Chapter 459: Assessment

Chen Wenjing sat down behind the desk, not in a hurry to speak; he first picked up a teapot to pour himself a cup, and took a slow, leisurely sip.

That pair of smiling eyes scrutinized Cheng Feng through the curling steam, as if gauging the quality of a piece of merchandise.

Cheng Feng sat bolt upright, his gaze meeting the other's calmly, neither hurried nor impatient.

The Merit Hall was quiet for a moment, with only the faint sound of fists and kicks breaking the wind drifting in from the courtyard.

"How should I address you, young master?" Chen Wenjing set down his teacup and finally spoke.

"Cheng Feng."

Chen Wenjing frowned slightly: "There is no family surnamed Cheng in Heimu Prefecture, is there? Let me ask again."

"Where are you from? Which school did you study under?"

"I am from Qinghe County in Lianshan Prefecture, and I studied under the local Tieshan Martial Arts Hall."

"Did you rely on anyone's connections?"

"None."

Upon hearing this, Chen Wenjing's expression turned calm, losing its previous air of amiability.

"Has your cultivation technique reached its limit, and you wish to exchange merit for the subsequent path of Martial Dao?"

Cheng Feng did not deny it and nodded: "The technique at the county martial arts hall reached its limit; to advance further, I had no choice but to seek another path. I heard that the Pacification Office judges heroes by their merit and does not ask about their background, so I wanted to come and try."

Chen Wenjing's expression showed understanding, then he said calmly: "It is true that we do not ask about background."

He crossed his hands on the desk and leaned forward slightly, "But you must know, merit in the Pacification Office is not so easily earned. Every point of merit is fought for with one's life."

"The rules of the office state that new recruits must pass three trials—body examination, heart questioning, and skill testing. Only if you pass can you officially cross the threshold of the Pacification Office. If you fail, you go back where you came from."

He paused, then added: "Last year, a total of two hundred and thirteen people came to take the test, and only thirty-three passed the three trials. Among those thirty-three, more than twenty died within half a year, and the rest either lost a leg or an arm."

When Chen Wenjing said this, his tone was as flat as if he were chatting about the weather, yet the scent of blood in his words was thick and impossible to dissolve.

"Warrior Cheng, are you sure you want to try?"

Cheng Feng's answer was only one word: "Try."

Chen Wenjing stared at him for two seconds, nodded, pulled a sheet of paper from under the desk, picked up a brush and scribbled a few lines, stamped it, and then shouted toward the door: "Lao Zhou, take him for the body examination."

A lean old man walked in from outside in response, wearing a washed-out gray short jacket, his face full of wrinkles framing a pair of small, piercing eyes. He scanned Cheng Feng up and down, said nothing, and turned to leave.

Cheng Feng stood up and followed.

The place for the body examination was in the west wing of the courtyard; in an empty room, there was only a wooden table and a few strange-looking instruments.

Lao Zhou had Cheng Feng take off his top and stand in the middle of the room, then began to circle him, his withered fingers pressing and pinching his body from time to time.

"Bone age eighteen, bone quality inferior, meridian quality inferior, Qi and Blood abundant." Lao Zhou's voice sounded like two pieces of sandpaper rubbing against each other.

"You have reached the limit of both tendon and bone refining, and your skin and flesh are polished well. Your breathing… have you reached Organ Refining???"

"Your skin, flesh, tendons, and bones… why are they so strange?"

Lao Zhou's fingers pressed again on the Dazhui Acupoint at the back of Cheng Feng's neck, and the confusion in those piercing small eyes grew deeper.

He had touched the bodies of countless Martial Artists at the Organ Refining stage; which one of them wasn't internally strong and externally solid, a seamless whole?

Yet the body of this young man before him exuded an indescribable awkwardness—the skin and flesh were abnormally hard, but the bones and meridians underneath were of inferior quality, as if a piece of crude iron billet had been forcibly plated with a layer of black gold.

"Bone quality inferior, meridian quality inferior." Lao Zhou repeated it again, his withered fingers pressing down the spine of Cheng Feng one vertebra at a time, frowning with every vertebra he pressed.

"By rights, with this kind of Root Bone, even tendon refining would be a struggle; to reach Bone Refining Perfection is already a miracle. How could you possibly step into the threshold of Organ Refining?"

Cheng Feng did not speak, just watched quietly.

He couldn't exactly say he had a Panmian!!

Lao Zhou circled to Cheng Feng's front, placed a palm on the Tanzhong Point on Cheng Feng's chest, and closed his eyes to concentrate and sense for a moment.

The sound of surging Qi and Blood coming from his palm was like a roaring river, surging and pounding beyond reason, more overbearing than any Organ Refining stage martial artist he had seen in the Pacification Office.

"How strange." Lao Zhou withdrew his palm and stroked his sparse goatee, "The bones and meridians are of the lowest quality, yet the Qi and Blood are overly abundant, and the skin and flesh are ridiculously hard."

"Kid, I've been examining people for twenty years, and this is the first time I've seen such a contradiction in a body."

Cheng Feng put on his top without changing his expression, tying his sash unhurriedly: "I once saved a wandering Daoist who fell into the river; he taught me a crude method for tempering tendons and bones and left behind a few pills. Perhaps it is the effect of those pills."

Lao Zhou looked at him suspiciously, clearly not quite believing this explanation. However, having worked in the Pacification Office for twenty years, he understood one truth—everyone who could stand in this room carried secrets they didn't want others to know.

Getting to the bottom of things would not only fail to elicit the truth but would easily offend people.

He returned to the table, picked up a brush, dipped it in ink, and wrote his evaluation on the paper. After finishing, he hesitated for a moment, added a line of small text at the end, and then picked up the paper and handed it to the clerk waiting outside: "Send this to the Merit Hall, present it to Lord Chen."

The clerk took the evaluation and hurried away. Lao Zhou turned around and said to Cheng Feng: "The first trial is passed. Turn left when you go out; Lord Chen is waiting for you in the Heart Questioning Room."

After he finished speaking, he added another sentence, his tone carrying a rare solemnity: "Kid, to be able to reach this point with such poor Root Bone, the suffering you've endured is likely ten times that of others. This kind of character is worth more than any superior Root Bone."

"If having many children counts, that is."

Cheng Feng added in his heart, his footsteps pausing; he turned back to bow to Lao Zhou, said nothing more, turned, and pushed the door open to leave.

The Heart Questioning Room was at the very end of the east wing of the courtyard; the location was remote, the windows were small, and the room appeared dim even in broad daylight.

Chen Wenjing was already sitting inside, with an oil lamp and a cup of tea that had long since gone cold on the table in front of him.

The flickering lamplight reflected on his face, giving his habitual smiling expression a somewhat sinister flavor.

"Sit."

Cheng Feng sat down on the chair opposite him. The chair was very hard, and sitting on it made his bones ache; it was clearly designed on purpose.

Chen Wenjing did not rush to ask questions, but first picked up the body examination evaluation and read it through. When he saw the eight characters "bone quality inferior, meridian quality inferior," his brow furrowed imperceptibly;

When he saw the evaluation "Qi and Blood abundant, skin and flesh abnormally tough" and the small line at the end, his brow smoothed out, and he even raised his eyebrows slightly.

He put the paper down and scrutinized Cheng Feng again, his gaze a bit sharper than before.

"Bones and meridians are both inferior, yet you have reached the Organ Refining stage. Either you have had a heaven-defying stroke of luck, or you have endured suffering unimaginable to ordinary people."

Chen Wenjing picked up the teacup, discovered the tea was cold, and set it back down, "Regardless of which it is, it shows you are no ordinary person. However, the Pacification Office does not ask about this; I will ask you something else."

He held up a finger.

"The first question: Why do you practice martial arts?"

Cheng Feng did not hesitate: "In order to live."

Chen Wenjing was noncommittal and held up a second finger: "Why join the Suppressing and Pacifying Division?"

"The path of the Martial Arts Hall in the county town has reached its end; if I want to live better, I must find another path."

Chen Wenjing held up a third finger, his gaze suddenly becoming as sharp as a Sword: "The third question—if one day, the orders of the Imperial Court conflict with the righteousness of the Jianghu, what will you do?"

The flame of the oil lamp flickered, and the shadow cast on the wall swayed along with it.

This question was more dangerous than the previous two combined.

Cheng Feng knew that his answer would be recorded, and if any trouble arose in the future, every word on this paper would turn into a blade stabbing at him.

He was silent for a moment, then met Chen Wenjing's gaze frankly.

"Sir, I am here to earn merit to exchange for cultivation techniques, not to be an official. The grievances between the Imperial Court and the Jianghu are not for a small person like me to worry about.

Whoever gives me food, I will sell my life for them. If the Suppressing and Pacifying Division gives me a way out, I will exert effort for the Suppressing and Pacifying Division. As for so-called Imperial Court justice or Jianghu righteousness—"

Cheng Feng smiled, his smile carrying a bit of the practicality and cunning of someone from a small place, "As a poor boy from Qingxi County, I don't understand such grand principles."

After listening, Chen Wenjing neither nodded nor shook his head; he simply picked up a brush and wrote a character on the paper.

Cheng Feng glanced at it, and the character was—"Real".

The "real" of being solid and genuine.

"The second stage is passed." Chen Wenjing put down the brush and put a smile back on his face; this time, the smile had less probing and more sincerity.

"Go, Wang Meng is already waiting for you at the Martial Arts Arena. He doesn't know his own strength when he strikes; if you can't hold on, just call out to stop. Don't force yourself and lose your life."

Cheng Feng stood up, cupped his hands, turned, and walked out.

At the Martial Arts Arena, Wang Meng was already waiting. This burly man was still shirtless, and the scar on his chest shone with a ferocious white light in the sunlight.

Seeing Cheng Feng walk over, he grinned, revealing teeth stained yellow by smoke, and spun the iron Sword in his hand in his palm.

"Kid, you passed the body inspection and the heart questioning? Not bad. But those two stages are just empty talk; my stage is the real deal."

He slammed the tip of the blade onto the ground, sparks flying everywhere, "The rules are simple—last for one stick of incense, and you pass. Choose any weapon, or use your fists and feet. If you hurt me, that's your ability; if you kill me—"

The warriors watching the fun on the sidelines finished the second half of the sentence in unison: "The Division will cover for you!"

Then came a burst of laughter.

Cheng Feng also smiled. He glanced at the weapon rack on the side of the arena; blades, spears, Swords, halberds, axes, hooks, and forks were all there, all unsharpened.

He walked over, then walked back, holding nothing in his hands.

Wang Meng's smile stiffened for a moment.

Cheng Feng walked to the center of the arena, one hand behind his back, the other hand beckoning forward, assuming the most ordinary starting stance.

"Please."

Wang Meng's face instantly flushed red: "Damn it, who are you looking down on?"

This was a gesture of guidance in the Martial Dao, a senior providing Martial Dao instruction to a junior.

Cheng Feng felt he should show his capabilities during an important stage.

After all, the Wang Meng before him was only at the Bone Refining Mid Stage.

Although the warriors of the Suppressing and Pacifying Division were battle-hardened and possessed extraordinary combat power,

Cheng Feng asked himself that he was not inferior, so he treated it as a sparring session.

The incense in the incense burner was lit, and before the first wisp of blue smoke had even risen halfway, Wang Meng moved.

He was burly, yet his speed was shockingly fast. The iron blade swept across his waist with a dull sound of wind; if this strike landed, let alone lasting a stick of incense, it would be a miracle to even remain standing.

Then, everyone saw a scene that left them dumbfounded.

Cheng Feng did not retreat but advanced instead; a hand, too fair to belong to a martial artist, reached straight out, and with a closing of five fingers, it caught the back of the blade perfectly.

Clang!

The iron blade was like being clamped by iron pliers, not moving a single bit.

The laughter on the sidelines was cut off as if by a blade, stopping abruptly.

Wang Meng's eyes widened, the veins on his arms bulging as he used all his strength to try and reclaim the blade, but the blade seemed embedded in a stone mountain; no matter how red his face turned or how thick his neck became, he could not pull it back even a fraction of an inch.

What shocked him even more was that Cheng Feng's hand was as steady as a rock, his wrist not trembling in the slightest.

Where the hell did this Organ Refining realm come from?

Even if there is a gap between Bone Refining and Organ Refining, shouldn't there at least be a few exchanges?

Before he could figure out the reason, Cheng Feng flipped and twisted his wrist; Wang Meng only felt an extremely overbearing force transmitted from the blade, his web between thumb and forefinger in sharp pain, and his five fingers involuntarily loosened their grip on the hilt.

The next second, the iron blade was already in Cheng Feng's hand.

Cheng Feng casually plunged the blade into the ground, the tip sinking more than three inches into the bluestone slab, the blade still humming.

He brushed the non-existent dust off his hands and asked in a calm tone: "Brother Wang, shall we continue?"

At this moment, the incense in the burner had burned less than one-twentieth.

Those warriors on the sidelines who had been waiting to watch the fun now all had their eyes wide open. Several people stood up straight unconsciously, and the arms they had originally crossed over their chests were lowered.

The man holding a blade who had been napping under the corridor pillar opened his eyes at some point, his gaze sweeping across Cheng Feng's back like a blade's edge, then closed them again, though the corners of his mouth curled up slightly.

"That is enough."

Chen Wenjing's voice came from under the corridor, breaking the silence on the arena.

He walked down the steps, his pace unhurried, but the expression on his face was no longer the perfunctory, polite smile from before, but a look of genuine interest.

He walked up to Cheng Feng, looked him up and down, and suddenly reached out to press a palm against Cheng Feng's chest.

This palm strike was silent and soundless, appearing light and effortless, but the moment the palm force touched Cheng Feng's chest, a yin-soft and lingering internal force burrowed inside.

Chen Wenjing was clearly trying to weigh Cheng Feng's caliber himself; this palm strike used about thirty percent of his power, and if it were any other Ordinary Organ Refining realm martial artist, they would have had to retreat at least half a step.

However, Cheng Feng's body only swayed slightly, and that yin-soft internal force entered his body like a clay ox into the sea, vanishing instantly.

Chen Wenjing withdrew his palm, looked down at his own palm, then looked up at Cheng Feng, a hint of undisguisable surprise flashing in his eyes.

"Good physique." He murmured these two words, then turned around and said loudly to the crowd on the sidelines, "The three passes have been cleared. Cheng Feng, from this day forward, you are entered into the roster of the Pacification Office and granted the rank of Apprentice Lishi."

He took a Black Iron Token from his sleeve; the front was engraved with the three characters for "Pacification Office," and the back featured a Xiezhi with wide, glaring eyes.

He solemnly handed the token to Cheng Feng and lowered his voice, saying, "The apprenticeship period is one month; you can become a full member after completing one bounty mission. Once you are a full member, the doors of the Gongxunge will be open to you."

Cheng Feng took the token; it felt heavy in his hand, and a cold metallic sensation spread from his palm to his fingertips. He flipped the token over, traced the patterns of the Xiezhi on the back, and suddenly asked, "In the Merit Pavilion, are there superior cultivation arts that can break through the Organ Refining realm?"

Chen Wenjing looked at him, his eyes holding a hint of deeper meaning.

"Yes. Not only are there ones for breaking through Organ Refining, but there are also secret arts for breaking through the Gangqi Pass, and it is even said that the top floor of the Gongxunge hides a supreme art capable of allowing one to step into the Xiantian Realm." He paused and lowered his voice even further, "However, the merit points required for those things are enough to keep you killing bandits for a lifetime. Young man, the path must be walked one step at a time."

Cheng Feng gripped the token in his palm, tightening his five fingers, feeling the sharp, distinct edges press into his palm prints.

"I understand."

He cupped his hands in a salute to Chen Wenjing and Wang Meng respectively, then turned and strode toward the gate of the Pacification Office. The Lishi in the courtyard automatically cleared a path for him, their gazes holding less contempt and more gravity.

Just a few steps out, Wang Meng's booming voice suddenly came from behind: "Brother Cheng, I'll treat you to a drink another day!"

Cheng Feng did not look back, merely raising his hand to wave, the corners of his mouth lifting slightly.

Emerging from the gate of the Pacification Office, the midday sun poured down over his head, spilling warmly onto his shoulders. People came and went on the long street, the steamed bun shop at the corner was emitting rising heat, and the air was filled with the tangible scent of human life.

Cheng Feng stood on the steps, looked down at the Black Iron Token in his hand, then looked up at the row upon row of rooftops in the Prefecture City in the distance and the faint outline of the green mountains visible even further away.

Above Organ Refining is True Qi, above True Qi is Gangqi, and above Gangqi is Xiantian.

Compared to the news in the county town, the resources here in the Prefecture City are truly far more abundant.

The road is still very long, but at least this step underfoot has been planted firmly and steadily.

Cheng Feng tucked the token away close to his body, straightened his lapels, and stepped into the bustling crowd.