Chapter 348: Probing

The tea shed was small, with a thatched roof and bamboo-slat windows, barely keeping out wind and rain. In the middle stood seven or eight long and square tables, occupied by over forty people.

Beneath the stove, a hired hand bent over stoking the fire and boiling tea. By the counter, the shopkeeper dropped copper coins into a drawer, then hoisted a heavy teapot and, with an apologetic smile, served tea to the customers, apologizing for his shabby, leaky shop and his coarse, old tea.

A handsome young master in white waved the shopkeeper away, sniffed the warm, faintly sour scent of the old tea, his face showing displeasure. He raised the tea bowl several times, only to set it back down again.

At his right hip hung a precious sword, at his left a fragrance sachet, and a white jade piece served as his waist ornament. Beside him sat a pure, lovely girl of sixteen, and behind him stood a middle-aged man with his eyes closed, his breathing long and steady — clearly a master at first glance.

The textbook setup of a young master from a wealthy family out traveling the world.

The youthful girl watched him wrestling with indecision and asked crisply, "Young Master Su, didn't you bring good tea with you? I saw you drinking some yesterday — why not take it out?"

"Ahem, that was a fine tea bestowed by an elder of the family,"

the white-clad young master replied in a tone half-embarrassed, half-boastful, lowering his voice, "there are too many eyes here. Taking it out would easily expose my identity."

"Too many... eyes?"

"Yes, look, Miss Wang."

The young master continued in a lowered voice, "Those bald men in the southeast corner — they have flood-dragon tattoos on their left arms. They're from the River-Turning Gang, based along the Huainan stretch of the Beijing-Hangzhou Grand Canal, monopolizing grain transport.

Those fellows in the southwest corner, though dressed in plain cloth, sit ramrod-straight with sharp gazes — either Embroidered Uniform Guard officers or elite garrison soldiers.

And then there are monks from the Grand Xiangguo Temple, Daoist masters from Longhu Mountain, greenwood heroes, South Sea merchants, Huashan swordsmen... all here to celebrate Old Madam Tu's birthday.

Where there are people, there is the jianghu; where there is jianghu, there are grudges and debts.

When the ferry comes later and we head out to sea, vast and boundless — who knows, someone might come to repay a kindness or settle a score."

At these words, the atmosphere in the tea shed stalled for a beat. Even the middle-aged master behind the young master couldn't help opening his eyes and shaking his head helplessly.

Buddy, you already know this place is full of masters — what good is lowering your voice going to do? You've gone and exposed everyone's identity at once. How awkward.

Still, the fact that he dared to remain so carefree in such a mixed and dangerous crowd proved, by implication, that this young master surnamed Su must have an extraordinary background.

Some had already begun speculating in secret: which sect or clan's young master was he, or perhaps the heir of some great noble family.

Swish—

The bamboo curtain was pushed aside, and a boy and a girl stepped into the tea shed, folding their oil-paper umbrellas, wrapped in fine rain and cool wind.

The former wore a blue lan-shan robe of everyday cut, with a finely crafted pair of glasses perched on the bridge of his nose.

The latter wore a two-piece horse-face skirt that reached the chest, pink on top and green below.

"Mas'r, there's a seat over here!"

Huiyu, who had rarely gotten to come out and play and had deliberately styled herself as a maidservant, said excitedly, drawing strange looks from everyone in the room.

Li Cheng walked over helplessly and sat down, giving Huiyu a flick on the forehead — not too light, not too heavy.

"Mas'r" was a holdover from the slave system of the Qing dynasty. Watching palace dramas all day without learning a thing — she deserved the punishment.

'Ho, a whole house full of odd characters and strange talents.'

Li Cheng casually set his invitation bronze token on the table, called the shopkeeper over for a pot of tea, and while waiting, scanned the room with his information-integration glasses, checking everyone's background as if flipping through a household register.

This world was indeed a Wu Xia setting, broadly divided into Post-Heaven and Pre-Heaven.

For instance, among the nine Embroidered Uniform Guard officers in the southwest corner, eight were Post-Heaven. Their leader, named Lu Hu, was at the peak of Pre-Heaven, a Embroidered Uniform Guard Vice-Battalion Commander.

Also at the peak of Pre-Heaven was a square-faced monk — Bitter Elm of the Grand Xiangguo Temple,

and a young Daoist — Zhang Fuluan of Longhu Mountain.

The most eye-catching white-clad young master was named Su Konghu, Young Valley Master of Ten Thousand Miasma Valley, early-stage Pre-Heaven. The girl beside him, Wang Biliu, was an ordinary person.

The only person in the room whose information the integration glasses couldn't see through was the middle-aged man behind Su Konghu. All it could read was his name: Song Zhong.

Mm. Song Zhong — "send him off to his end." What a name.

Li Cheng was observing everyone in the room, and the others were observing him in turn.

No tan on his face, no calluses on his fingers, no trace of labor — definitely a young master from a wealthy family. Yet his posture was sloppy and his tea-drinking manner casual, proving he wasn't from a noble clan, and didn't look like someone who'd trained in martial arts.

"Pardon the intrusion, sir. I am Cao Meng, Vice-Gang Leader of the River-Turning Gang."

A burly bald man walked over, first cupping his fist politely toward Li Cheng, then pulling a thick stack of silver notes from his chest and setting them gently on the table. "These are silver notes worth one thousand taels. Might the young master be willing to part with it?"

"Holy crap, so the TV dramas were telling the truth. Someone as naturally beautiful as me really is a calamity that topples kingdoms."

Before Li Cheng could speak, Huiyu was already overjoyed. She slapped the table and said, "Scram, scram, scram! My young master and I are deeply in love — how could we possibly be bought off with money?"

"Uh..." Cao Meng chose to ignore Huiyu's misuse of idioms. "I meant this invitation bronze token."

Everyone in the room instantly understood what Cao Meng meant. They glanced at the bronze token and the silver notes on the table, all waiting to watch the show.

Historically, the Great Ming treasure notes were the brainchild of a Ming emperor who had no grasp of finance — a scheme he'd cooked up on a whim. The paper was poor and couldn't last, and notes were issued but never recalled, leading to runaway overprinting. They quickly inflated and collapsed in value, and were utterly abandoned.

But the current Great Ming Emperor, Emperor Yong'an, had ascended the throne at fifteen and reigned for forty-two years. During that time he had reformed the laws, cut the imperial clan's expenses, established a Navy Ministry, lifted the sea ban, actively engaged in overseas trade and colonization, opened new sea routes for revenue, and overhauled the treasure-note system — greatly easing social tensions.

However, what was good for the country was bad news for the River-Turning Gang — the Great Ming had once relied heavily on canal transport, but now that the seas were open, grain and supplies could travel directly by sea from the south to Shuntian.

Canal transport — and the River-Turning Gang that lived off it — had been quietly declining.

For Cao Meng, one more invitation meant one more chance to see Old Madam Tu at the birthday banquet.

Perhaps he could latch onto the towering tree that was the Tu clan of the South Sea, and find a slim chance of survival for the River-Turning Gang's transformation.

Privately, Cao Meng had even prepared himself to offer himself up to Old Madam Tu — maybe the old lady liked vigorous, bald young fellows.

I-just-want-to-get-ahead. jpg

"I'm sorry, not interested. Please go back."

Li Cheng declined three times in a row, completely ignoring Cao Meng even when he raised the price to three thousand taels.

!

"Honored guest, your tea."

The shopkeeper, somewhat lacking in presence, came over carrying the teapot. The room was full of either Embroidered Uniform Guard officers or martial-arts-bearing young heroes and eminent monks — as an ordinary person, he couldn't afford to offend a single one of them.

"Let me pour the tea. Young master, are you sure you won't reconsider parting with the invitation?"

Cao Meng snatched the teapot from the shopkeeper's hand. Seeing that Li Cheng still refused, a glint flashed in his eyes. His left hand gripped the tea bowl, and the tip of his middle finger swept down along the rim with a speed that left no time to cover one's ears.

Crack!

The ceramic tea bowl split cleanly in half; the left half fell onto the table, spilling tea everywhere.

The amber-colored tea in the right half remained perfectly still, as if solidified like amber, within the broken bowl.

"Store Qi externally, that's true internal skill."

Su Konghu, the young master of the Ten Thousand Miasma Valley, couldn't help raising an eyebrow; seeing his female companion look puzzled, he explained: "The martial realms, from low to high, are Muscle Refinement, Skin Refinement, Tendon Refinement, Bone Refinement, Blood Tempering, Marrow Cleansing—crossing Marrow Cleansing leads to Primordial."

One can project true Qi outward, harming with falling leaves or flying petals.

To keep true Qi lingering outside, halting flowing water—that's beyond even an average mid-stage Primordial expert."

"Please."

Cao Meng extended his palm and pushed; the half-bowl, with its tea, shot swiftly sideways toward Li Cheng.

"If you understand Wu Gong, you'll know the gap between us. If you don't, this bowl will graze your arm and embed itself in the wall. Just in case you're some noble scion and I accidentally make an enemy."

Cao Meng silently calculated in his mind,

Even without factoring in internal cultivation methods or external Qi projection, his physical base stats already surpassed Captain America—he could kick over a car, pull a helicopter by hand, and win Olympic gold with his eyes closed.

Yet, players lay outside the scope of power systems he could comprehend.

Facing the flying half-bowl, Li Cheng calmly extended his palm and caught it steadily.

Then, before the stunned and bewildered gazes of all present, his right hand suddenly generated suction, drawing the half-cup of tea into his palm like a dragon drinking water, making it vanish.

???

Wang Biliu couldn't help asking: "Young Master Su, what kind of skill is that?"

"Don't ask—I've never seen it before."

Su Konghu scratched his head and glanced at the guard behind him. Song Zhong frowned slightly, saying nothing, muttering inwardly, "Absorbing Star Technique? Northern Darkness Divine Art? Doesn't seem like it—no internal skill I've heard of can suck water straight into the palm like a sponge."

"Fine tea."

Li Cheng smiled faintly, having secretly used a gravity energy sphere to suck the water away and store it in his inventory: "To return a favor is propriety, Young Master Cao—I'll treat you to a drink too."

Saying this, he opened his mouth and unleashed 【Dead Curse Torrent】.

His mouth erupted like a fire hydrant, spewing a jet of pitch-black, icy, malevolent energy that drenched Cao Meng from head to toe.

(End of Chapter)