Chapter 109: Master Su, You Didn

Poyang County, Shao Family!

“Worthless brat!”

Shao Hong knelt on the ground, while a middle-aged man wielded a whip, striking him fiercely.

“Do you realize how great a disaster your actions have brought upon the Shao family!”

Shao Hong remained silent; with his current strength, his father’s qi had declined, and the whip strikes didn’t hurt much—he wore more defiance than pain on his face.

“Master, the deed is done—punishing Hong-er won’t undo it,” said the woman beside him, her face filled with pity as she pleaded.

“A doting mother raises a spoiled son! What does Lin Chen’s feud with Qingfeng Martial Hall have to do with him? What does it have to do with our Shao family?” The middle-aged man’s face twisted in frustration. “Li Tianqi lost his hall master position, and Qi River has become a laughingstock in Poyang’s martial circles—neither of them seeks revenge. What makes this insignificant Opened Meridian cultivator think he can retaliate?”

Shao Zhen never imagined his own son could be this foolish.

Anyone with eyes could see Lin Chen had boundless potential—he’d already caught the attention of Master Su.

In past years, it might have mattered little, but now, with the County Contest approaching and tied to Master Su’s official record, reporting Lin Chen to the Wuzheng Office is tantamount to opposing Master Su—utterly idiotic.

“Father, I know Lin Chen is now favored by Master Su, which is why I directly reported him to the Wuzheng Office. I specifically sent Uncle Li to Fucheng to hire a thug to deliver the letter—I took care to hide my identity.”

Shao Hong was defiant—he’d arranged everything perfectly; Master Su would never trace it back to him.

He never expected a single letter to defeat Lin Chen. Later, he’d spread the rumor to Yanshan County—their martial halls wouldn’t miss this chance to exploit Lin Chen’s alleged fraud. When public outrage mounted, the Wuzheng Office would surely send investigators, delaying Lin Chen’s participation in the County Contest.

Even if Lin Chen later proved his innocence, that was irrelevant—his goal was simply to make Lin Chen miss the County Contest.

If Lin Chen couldn’t compete, he wouldn’t get the contest rewards—he refused to believe Lin Chen could catch up in cultivation afterward.

“It’s all your mother’s fault for spoiling you.”

Shao Zhen sighed to the heavens—he knew his son’s thoughts all too well.

But this matter wasn’t so simple.

Whether or not Lin Chen could participate in the County Contest, Master Su would never abandon him.

Mastering the Qingfeng Palm in three months—what kind of insight is that?

“Right now, our Shao family faces only two paths: either abandon our decades of legacy to save you, or sacrifice half our legacy to save you.”

Shao Zhen’s words made Shao Hong tremble; the woman beside him cried out anxiously: “Master, it can’t be this severe!”

“This can’t be hidden. Master Su will trace the letter’s sender—and he’ll trace it back to our Shao family. Falsely accusing a martial hall student, especially a genius like this, is a grave crime—punishable by exile to the frontier.”

Hearing “exile,” Shao Hong’s face finally paled.

“Father, I don’t want to go to the frontier.”

“Don’t want to go?” Shao Zhen sneered. “Do you want to watch our family’s decades of legacy crumble to dust?”

Shao Zhen’s face showed pain—he had only one son. If he were truly sent to the frontier, the Shao family would be left without heirs.

The only option now was to abandon their estate.

…

…

Wuzhengsuo.

Lin Chen stood to one side, watching Master Su sip tea calmly, his mind full of confusion.

Today, someone from the Wuzhengsuo had come to him, summoning him to the office—Master Su wished to see him.

But upon arriving, Master Su merely sat there, leisurely drinking tea, saying nothing about why he’d called him.

A cup of tea passed.

Footsteps approached the door. Lin Chen turned his gaze—and when he saw the two figures enter, his confusion deepened.

“Master Su, Shao Zhen brings his disobedient son, Shao Hong, to beg for forgiveness.”

As soon as he entered, Shao Zhen noticed Lin Chen standing to the side—his heart lurched. He knew he couldn’t hide this from Master Su; the man had anticipated his actions, or else Lin Chen wouldn’t be here.

Su Lingchuan glanced once at Shao Hong behind Shao Zhen, then said nothing.

“Worthless beast, kneel!”

Shao Zhen kicked his son hard. Shao Hong, dazed and unprepared, collapsed onto his knees in the main hall.

“Master Su, this beast lost to Lin Chen in the three-month contest and harbored revenge in his heart. He dared to send a letter to the Wuzheng Office, fabricating false accusations against Lin Chen.”

As he spoke, Shao Zhen turned to Lin Chen and bowed deeply: “Young Master Lin, I failed as a father. I’ve brought this beast here to beg Master Su’s pardon—and since you’re here, you may kill or maim him as you see fit. My Shao family will not object.”

Lin Chen finally understood why Master Su had summoned him.

Looking at Shao Hong kneeling on the ground, Lin Chen felt speechless. He’d been in this world over a year—he’d thought it lacked spoiled heirs, and now here was one.

He and Shao Hong had little personal grievance. The three-month contest was decided by skill—if losing meant hatred, then every martial hall student in history would be mortal enemies. The Wuzhengsuo had held countless contests.

His feud with Qingfeng Martial Hall drew mockery from other halls—but no one mocked Shao Hong.

Lin Chen said nothing, his gaze fixed on Master Su.

Since Master Su had summoned him, he’d follow Master Su’s lead.

“Enough of this pathetic drama. I offer your family two choices: either Shao Hong is exiled to the frontier for ten years—he may return after that.”

Shao Zhen’s face twisted. Normal conscription offered survival chances—but those exiled to the frontier were thrown into the front-line assault units, where death was nearly certain. Ten years? He might not even survive a year.

“Or your family leaves Raozhou Prefecture. Shao Hong will be expelled from the Wuzhengsuo.”

Su Lingchuan’s expression remained calm, but at that moment, the aura of a ninth-rank martialist surged forth. Shao Hong trembled violently on the ground; even Shao Zhen struggled to bear it.

“We accept Master Su’s judgment. My family will leave Raozhou Prefecture in one month.”

“Three days. I give you three days,” Su Lingchuan rose, his gaze sharp. “Had it not been for your elder brother, your family’s meager wealth couldn’t have saved your son.”

Shao Zhen froze, silent for a long while, then bowed deeply: “Thank you, Master Su, for your mercy.”

“Beast, get out!”

Turning, Shao Zhen kicked Shao Hong straight out the door. As he turned away, he seemed to age decades, his back bent as he left.

“Lin Chen, don’t think I’m being soft on Shao Hong. Shao Zhen’s elder brother, Shao Gang, once rendered great service. Shao Gang left no heirs, and the former County Magistrate showed Shao Zhen favor, helping him break through to the Internal Organ stage. It was only after twenty years that the Shao family built its current foundation.”

“Master, your care for your disciple is deeply felt—I would never resent you,” Lin Chen smiled.

He understood Master Su’s meaning: forcing the Shao family to leave Raozhou Prefecture was, in a way, protecting Shao Hong. If Shao Hong still clung to his grudge and did something else, Lin Chen’s growth rate meant he wouldn’t spare him.

Su Lingchuan was pleased with Lin Chen’s response, his aura receding: “The Shao family has accumulated considerable wealth in the county. Shao Zhen won’t take it with him. There’s a fish market in town under their name—interested?”

Fish market?

Hearing “fish market,” Lin Chen’s eyes lit up. As the son of a fisherman, he knew exactly what it meant.

Poyang County had only three fish markets. Anyone wishing to sell fish in the county had to rent a stall within them—each stall cost twenty taels per year. Each market had twenty stalls.

That meant four hundred taels of income per year.

Owning a fish market meant owning a steady hen that laid golden eggs.

But as he thought deeper, Lin Chen realized accepting the fish market wasn’t wise.

His focus was on martial cultivation—he couldn’t manage the market himself.

His parents? They lacked the ability.

A fish market—a steady income—would inevitably entangle them with powerful factions. With their limited vision, they’d be easily exploited.

As always:

His current talent meant no faction in Poyang dared offend him.

But once Liyi conflicts arose, things changed.

Cultivate more. Clash less!

Though dull, this was the most correct path.

With him, his family wouldn’t suffer. His mother, in the village, basked in the praise of the other women—she lived contentedly.

“Master, may I sell the fish market?”

“Since I’ve given you the fish market, how you handle it is your own decision. When Shao Zhen delivers the deed, I’ll have someone send it to you.”

“Thank you, Master,” Lin Chen said, sincerely grateful.

“I’m pleased you thought to sell it.”

Su Lingchuan admired Lin Chen more and more. The fish market’s value was higher if kept—but for someone of Lin Chen’s humble origins, the leap from fisherman’s son to market proprietor was a massive status boost most couldn’t resist.

Only someone with unwavering martial resolve and clear goals could let it go.

Lin Chen grinned. He wasn’t just avoiding trouble—he knew accepting the market would change his identity.

Being a fisherman’s son, though often looked down upon, was also a mark of his origin.

Could a fish market’s young master still be called a poor scholar?

Besides, once he entered the ranks, wouldn’t he have no shortage of fish markets?

“Any difficulties in your martial cultivation?”

Su Lingchuan dropped the Shao family topic. The Shao family wasn’t among Poyang’s top clans—their status came solely from Shao Gang’s past service.

That service had sustained them for thirty years—and now it was spent.

As for the fish market, had Lin Chen not mentioned selling it, Su Lingchuan would have brought it up anyway. He and Lin Chen shared the same understanding: keeping his household registration unchanged benefited Lin Chen.

“Other than that, I’m low on silver.”

Lin Chen grinned. When you needed to cry poverty, you cried it. In the past three months, he’d spent two hundred taels on Opened Meridian Pills and another two hundred on secret herbs for Iron Bone Art—he had little left.

“I recall the Wuzhengsuo awarded you five hundred taels after the three-month contest. You spent it all?”

Su Lingchuan was startled. Five hundred taels in under three months? Add the Purple Crystal Marrow he’d given him—and Lin Chen’s spending rivaled that of elite youths in Fucheng.

“Lin Chen, I know you want a high rank in the County Contest, but remember—you walk the Extreme Martial Path. The County Contest isn’t your goal. Focus on mastering Iron Bone Art. Next month, the Wuzheng Office will summon you for elite training. Think long-term.”

Su Lingchuan couldn’t help but advise. After his master’s guidance, his obsession with results regarding Lin Chen had faded.

The Extreme Martial Path was inherently difficult—it demanded steady, careful steps.

“I understand, Master,” Lin Chen’s smile vanished, his face serious. He realized he wouldn’t get more silver from Master Su—but fortunately, he had Shao Hong, the fool, sending him money.

Truly, a fool who brought him coal in the snow.

"Hmm."

Satisfied with Lin Chen’s compliance, Su Lingchuan prepared to offer a final word of encouragement: "How far have you progressed with Iron Bone Art?"

"Your humble disciple has only just reached perfection."

"No rush, take it slow..."

Shh!

Before Su Lingchuan finished speaking, his right hand suddenly snatched at Lin Chen’s arm—so fast that Lin Chen had no time to react.

The next instant, Lin Chen felt his palm gripped as if by iron pincers, his entire body’s qi and blood freezing in place.

"Good!" Su Lingchuan retracted his hand, revealing a faint white mark on his palm: "You’ve bounced back one-tenth of my force. Iron Bone Art is truly perfected."

Lin Chen’s lips twitched—Senior Su didn’t believe what he’d said.

His Clear Wind Palm reached perfection in three months—how could Iron Bone Art reaching perfection in three months be so hard?

Was his credibility really that low?

Yet Lin Chen knew he’d only achieved it thanks to the Thousand Hammer Diagram; otherwise, he couldn’t have reached perfection in three months.

"I retract my earlier words. A martial artist must strive—every opportunity to obtain cultivation resources must be seized. I have high hopes for you in the County Contest."

Su Lingchuan no longer cared about his dignity; what shocked him wasn’t just Lin Chen’s perfected Iron Bone Art, but the ferocious surge of qi and blood he’d sensed within Lin Chen’s body.

It far surpassed that of any ordinary martial artist with ten opened acupoints.

It seems I can have a proper talk with Zhang Wangshan about the County Contest rewards.

Watching Su’s sudden change of demeanor, Lin Chen ventured cautiously: "Then, Senior Su, about the money I spent..."

"Money is meant to be spent—how else will your martial realm advance? How will your techniques improve?"

"I understand," Lin Chen thought of Su’s earlier attitude, then heard his current firm words—he almost doubted whether he’d imagined the previous exchange.

Senior Su’s attitude had changed as if he were two different people!

After Lin Chen left, Su Lingchuan pondered for a while, then turned his gaze to the door: "Send Zeng Qingyao from Jingshui Martial Hall to see me."

"Also notify Tai Rubai from Tie Xue Martial Hall."

(End of Chapter)