Chapter 11: Preparation: Get Money!

“Hahaha, I’ll treat you, Brother Hu, like my own little brother from now on.”

Zhang Xu wore a restrained, proper smile, deliberately infusing his words with warmth and favor.

Occasionally he reached out to pat Hu Tian’s thin shoulders twice, speaking gently with phrases like “work harder at your training” or “come to me if you need anything.”

Each light pat, each piece of advice, made Hu Tian nod eagerly, overwhelmed, his face breaking into an unguarded, almost tearful smile of gratitude.

He clearly regarded this newly arrived “superior root quality” junior brother as his personal possession, a new “little brother” he had claimed.

This scene, witnessed by other disciples arriving one after another, instantly sparked murmurs and complex glances.

Some envied Hu Tian for quickly securing the favor of an inner court core disciple; others scorned such sycophancy; some quietly speculated about Zhang Xu’s true intentions.

Su Yan, stepping into the martial hall, naturally saw this rather “lively” scene at the gate.

She did not pause her steps, but her beautiful eyes flickered slightly, glancing briefly between the beaming Hu Tian and the composed Zhang Xu.

In those usually bright, smiling eyes, a nearly imperceptible flicker of pity passed.

“So he’s already under Zhang Xu’s control? Then there’s no need to approach him.”

She sighed inwardly; the faint interest she’d felt due to his superior root quality instantly cooled and vanished.

Someone so swiftly won over by Zhang Xu’s “kindness” and “favor” had already lost his independence—he was no longer worth any extra attention or resources from her Su family.

She gave no further glance, as if it were merely an insignificant scene, stepping past a few whispering outer court disciples to nod slightly toward Jiang Ye by the gate, offering her usual faint smile:

“Good morning, Uncle Jiang.”

Her voice was clear, her manners impeccable.

After greeting him, she turned lightly toward the inner court, her blue lotus-colored robes swiftly vanishing behind the screen, not pausing a moment for the commotion at the gate.

Zhang Xu’s proud gaze swept over Su Yan’s slender, resolute back as she left, his lips curling into an unhidden smirk of triumph and mockery.

“Hmph, trying to steal my man?”

Zhang Xu sneered inwardly.

He turned his eyes back to Hu Tian, whose face glowed with delight from being “valued,” his smile deepening, more assured, more possessive.

A promising “loyal hound” had been successfully leashed—this pleased him greatly.

Jiang Ye merely gave a slight nod in response when Su Yan greeted him.

His seemingly aged eyes appeared to gaze toward the direction Su Yan had vanished, or perhaps simply drifted emptily into the void.

He observed both Su Yan’s decisive abandonment and Zhang Xu’s smug satisfaction, his heart utterly still.

The dependence of youths, the manipulation by aristocratic disciples—these were merely another brushstroke of varying intensity on the daily canvas of this martial academy.

In his world, only the power concealed deep within his marrow, slowly swelling as the “Tiger Form True Meaning” flowed, was real and unshakable.

“Brother Hu! You’re finally here! I’ve been waiting for you—I’ll train with you now!”

As Hu Tian stepped into the outer court, Lin Xiaohé’s delighted, affectionate voice rang out like a bird’s song.

She hurried over with light steps, her face lit with just the right brightness of a smile.

“Sure thing, Sister Xiaohé.”

Hu Tian answered readily, smiling, utterly unlike his shy, awkward self from yesterday.

After last night’s so-called “eye-opening” experience with Zhang Xu—witnessing the city’s night-time “prosperity” and his senior brother’s “generosity”—Hu Tian’s mindset had subtly but swiftly shifted.

He no longer blushed or fumbled at the approach of a girl; instead, he displayed a deliberately imitated, slightly arrogant air of “ease.”

During their joint practice, as they corrected each other’s movements, his fingers “accidentally” brushed her arm, his shoulder “unintentionally” lightly touched hers.

Even when she demonstrated a turning motion, he casually offered a light support to her waist.

These contacts were more direct, bolder than yesterday, carrying a Shitanyiwei .

This behavior left Lin Xiaohé, who had originally approached him willingly, momentarily flustered.

She hadn’t expected that in just one night, this country boy had transformed into someone so… slippery.

She silently withdrew her hand, which he had “accidentally” held for a moment, her fingertips curling slightly.

“Brother Hu… you’ve grown so much all of a sudden.”

Lin Xiaohé looked up at him, her smile still sweet, but a faint, unreadable scrutiny and caution flickered in her eyes.

She sensed that this Hu Tian, after last night’s “baptism,” was no longer as easy to deceive or control as the simple, honest Shi Lei had been.

“Didn’t you teach me that yesterday, Sister?”

Hu Tian grinned, not embarrassed by her withdrawal but pushing further, his arm naturally draping over Lin Xiaohé’s slender shoulder, giving it a light pat:

“You said fellow disciples shouldn’t be shy—we should look out for each other. I’m just following your advice.”

His words carried a teasing tone, his actions intimate beyond the bounds of ordinary fellow disciples.

“Y-yes… you’re right, Sister said so.”

Faced with Hu Tian’s increasingly bold, almost aristocratic familiarity, Lin Xiaohé’s heart was a tangle of mixed emotions.

She was pleased: the relationship with this “genius” junior brother seemed to be rapidly drawing closer, and her chance to tie herself to this promising “ship” had increased.

But she was worried: though Hu Tian appeared naive, he was not as straightforward or easy to manipulate as Shi Lei.

If this continued, once his wings grew stronger and his horizons broadened, her current flattery might not yield the expected returns—and might even lead to her being discarded once she lost her usefulness.

Her smile remained unchanged, but her body tensed almost imperceptibly, then forced itself to relax, letting the boy’s warm hand rest on her shoulder, while her mind raced ahead.

Afternoon.

Jiang Ye slowly drained the last drop of brown broth from his bowl.

The familiar warmth spread through his chest and abdomen, nourishing his sinews, bones, and blood—but…

He faintly wrinkled his brow.

As his strength continued to rise, he noticed the tonic’s nourishing effect was diminishing.

He silently calculated.

To sustain his daily cultivation—over two hours, with “extraordinary comprehension” enabling efficient transformation—and to maintain steady blood and qi growth without damaging his foundation…

“At least three bowls of Zhuangxue Tang.”

This conclusion weighed heavily on his heart.

What should he do?

He’d already drawn criticism from Huang Xiyu for drinking just one bowl.

If he asked for three, she’d surely fight him to the death.

Though Liu Qingshi, out of old affection, might agree…

But a seventy-year-old gatekeeper suddenly requiring such massive medicinal support was inherently unreasonable—and would inevitably draw suspicion.

“Dengshen Changjie” was his greatest reliance—and his absolute, unexposable secret.

Before he possessed sufficient self-defense, any anomaly must be carefully concealed.

Buy tonic medicines himself?

The moment the thought arose, Jiang Ye let out a silent, bitter laugh.

“Ah, I should’ve accepted the salary back then.”

When Liu Qingshi had settled in Anxi County, he had insisted on giving this old gatekeeper a salary, as thanks and care.

But back then, Jiang Ye, heartbroken and weary, had thought having a meal and shelter in the martial academy was enough—who needed money, an old lonely man like him? He had firmly refused.

Now he saw how shortsighted he’d been.

In this world, without silver to clear the path, you couldn’t take a single step.

“I need to find a way to get some money.”

Jiang Ye’s eyes lowered slightly, his thoughts turning cold and calculating.

In this turbulent world, to rise above others, suffering won’t do—you must consume others.

Getting money is the same: suffering won’t earn you enough for tonic medicine—you must… consume others!

Killers and arsonists wear gold belts; bridge-builders and road-repairers leave no corpses.

It’s always been this way.

“Who should I eat first...?”

As Jiang Ye pondered,

A slow, unsteady, yet stubbornly fierce step approached from afar and halted outside the martial academy gate.

Jiang Ye lifted his gaze.

The arrival was Shi Lei—missing for two days!

But the boy now looked truly pitiful.

His face bore overlapping bruises, old and new; his eyes swelled shut to slits; his lips split; a dried blood crust clung to his chin.