Chapter 86: Rousing the Entire City, Master and Disciple United

The next day!

Dawn broke.

【Host: Lin Chen】

【Realm: Opened Orifice (7/24): (1/100)】

【Clear Wind Palm: Perfected】

【Water Cloud Palm: Minor Success (9/10)】

Last night, he finally opened his seventh orifice.

With the Opened Orifice realm and Clear Wind Palm perfected, this time his goal was no longer the top ten.

…

…

When Lin Chen arrived at the training ground, all the students and disciples of the martial arts hall were already there.

The scene took him by surprise.

Jiang Qing and Fu Jingya stood at the very front, while Gu Qingqing and the other girls stood in the back rows; Lin Chen did not hesitate and joined them at the front.

“Senior Lin, you’ll definitely win!”

“Senior Lin, I’m rooting for you!”

“If Clear Wind Martial Arts Hall doesn’t treat you as a top-tier disciple, it’s because they’re blind.”

As he walked forward, the junior sisters around him eagerly cheered and encouraged him; when he heard the last remark, Lin Chen paused, gave the girl a faint smile, then continued on.

“Senior Lin smiled at me—I knew he resented Clear Wind Martial Arts Hall too.”

“Clear Wind Martial Arts Hall didn’t even give Senior Lin top-tier treatment—that Lü guy can’t even compare to him. They deserve to be humiliated.”

By the time Lin Chen reached the front row, Kong Yinglei and Shen Lin also appeared.

“Today’s match will be held at the city gate. The three of you come with me; other students of the hall may also go to the city gate to watch.”

Hearing this, Lin Chen froze—the match was being held at the city gate? That meant the entire county’s populace would come to watch, including villagers from outlying towns.

If it were held inside the city, those villagers wouldn’t want to pay the entry fee and might not come; but at the city gate, it’s free—anyone with free time would flock to see the spectacle.

Whether they understood martial arts or not, people naturally loved a good show.

The Jing Shui Martial Arts Hall students marched behind Kong Yinglei in a long procession—these were the new cohort; the previous cohort had already arrived at the city gate and secured their spots early.

…

…

At the Poyang County city gate!

In just one day, a stage had been erected; though it was still before the hour of Chen, the area was already packed with people.

On the left side, soldiers guarded the area—reserved for the county’s elite, already filled with seated spectators.

On the right side was the section allotted to martial arts hall students: veterans from the eight halls, including many martial artists who had completed their three-year terms and left, now standing in this zone.

The lowest section, the most crowded of all, was packed with common folk.

“Don’t push! This spot was claimed first by our village!”

At the very front, Zhao Canghu beamed with pride—he’d had foresight; last night he’d sent villagers here to secure positions, and today he’d led them out before dawn.

Look at the other villages—they were lined up over a li away; those with poor eyesight couldn’t even see the fighters on the stage.

Yet some ignored order: several burly men pushed toward them, knocking several villagers from Linhu Village to the ground; Zhao Canghu immediately shouted to stop them.

Too bad, the men ignored him.

“What’s going on?”

The constables maintaining order saw the commotion and hurried over.

“Officer, we’re making room for Master Liu—he’s close friends with Commissioner You.”

The lead brute grinned, but the constable merely glanced at him: “I don’t know any Master Liu. Commissioner Miao has ordered: anyone disrupting order will be arrested. Are you testing me?”

Hearing this, the men turned pale—jail meant being beaten half to death before release.

They quickly retreated back into the crowd.

“Thank you, Officer,” Zhao Canghu said gratefully.

“Don’t let your villagers wander around—others might steal your spots.”

Facing Zhao Canghu, the constable’s tone softened; he smiled and added a warning.

“Village Chief, you’ve got real influence—even the officer’s helping us,” a villager chuckled in flattery.

“I’ve got no influence at all—he’s doing this for Lin Chen’s sake. Forget it, you coarse folk wouldn’t understand. Just remember this: no one in our village dares speak ill of Lin Chen. If I catch you, you’ll be punished by village law.”

Zhao Canghu was old and sharp—he’d seen this officer before.

Back when he’d gone with Lin Chen to find Qianqian in the southern district, one of the ten constables trailing the patrol captain was this very man.

The officer must have recognized him from that day, hence the favor.

Otherwise, with that brute’s words, the officer would’ve made them give up their spot.

On the right side stood a group of young people.

They were the previous cohort of martial arts hall students; they cared deeply about this match.

The top twenty of this new cohort—especially the top ten—would be fierce rivals in next year’s county trials.

Only those who placed in the top ten of last year’s hall competition didn’t care about this new cohort; over a year had passed, and those ten had opened at least eighteen orifices.

None of those ten had come.

…

…

In the crowd, a girl pushed hard against those around her, refusing to be shoved down.

Hua’er strained her slender frame, but her weak strength couldn’t hold against several women who shoved her back; her face twisted with grievance.

Master Yu told me to deliver a letter to Lin Young Master based on his ranking in this match—I must watch closely.

Thinking of Master Yu’s instructions, Hua’er instinctively reached into her chest—and froze, her face draining of color.

One of the letters was missing.

She stopped pushing forward, bent down, and searched the ground—but it was a sea of feet, the floor invisible.

“Why are you pushing?”

“Hey, girl, if you’re not watching, leave. Why are you shoving me?”

Those around her grew impatient; Hua’er ignored them, still bent low, frantically searching.

“Officer, someone’s disrupting order here!”

Someone reported to Lin Xiuyong, who came over, saw Hua’er shoving people while bent over, and frowned: “Little girl, stop causing trouble.”

Hua’er was frantic, looked up, eyes brimming with tears: “I… I lost Master Yu’s letter—it’s meant for Lin Young Master. My mistress was formerly a patrol inspector of the Wuzheng Office.”

Though desperate, she wasn’t foolish—she knew she had to reveal her mistress’s identity now, or Lin Xiuyong might drag her away.

She wasn’t afraid of being taken—she feared losing time and never finding the letter.

“Inspector Shu?”

Lin Xiuyong paused—he knew who the head of the Wuzheng Office was, but he’d never paid attention to inspectors.

Yet the girl’s expression didn’t seem like a lie.

Around them, the crowd’s impatience eased—they realized she’d lost something, hence her distress.

As for what an inspector was, these common folk didn’t know—but they sensed it was someone important, and dared not scold her.

Lin Xiuyong scanned the dense crowd, thought for a moment, then called out: “Fellow villagers, this girl lost a letter. Please check your feet—if you see an envelope, call out. A letter’s worthless, but don’t bring trouble on yourselves.”

The government office constables dealt daily with all manner of riffraff; during such a grand event, thieves would surely strike. His words were meant for them.

The envelope was worthless—return it, and no harm done.

But no one answered.

Lin Xiuyong looked at the packed crowd, took Hua’er to the front, and asked: “Why bring the letter with you to watch the match?”

Had she been delivering it, then stopped to watch?

“I came to deliver the letter to Lin Young Master—he’s competing today, so I came here to wait and give it to him after.”

Hearing this, Lin Xiuyong’s eyes lit up—he had a suspicion: “Which Lin Young Master are you talking about?”

He’d seen the list of competitors this morning—there was only one Lin.

“Lin Chen.”

Matched!

Lin Xiuyong sighed in wonder—he felt a strange fate binding him to this Lin Young Master: first meeting him at the dock, then the missing child case, now this maid.

“I’ll take you to find Lin Young Master. I’ll find your letter.”

Another chance to meet Lin Young Master—he wouldn’t let it slip. And now he had a shocking suspicion.

Everyone said Lin Young Master came from Linhu Village, with no family or backing—but this maid said the former Wuzheng Office inspector had written him a letter.

This wasn’t no backing—this was a powerful patron.

No wonder Lin Young Master had reached the sixth orifice so quickly and made it onto the competition list—he had a benefactor behind him.

Lin Xiuyong led Hua’er toward the stage, ignoring the curious glances of his fellow officers, and headed straight for the Jing Shui Martial Arts Hall section.

A cup of tea earlier, Kong Yinglei had arrived with the hall’s students.

Lin Chen arrived, scanned the crowd, and spotted the village chief, his parents and elder brother, and the villagers of Linhu Village.

As he nodded to them with his eyes, his gaze caught Lin Xiuyong—and behind him, Hua’er.

“Sister Hua’er?”

Seeing the faint redness in Huahua’s eyes, Lin Chen’s expression turned icy instantly. He stepped out of the line and walked over—his master and mistress had left the county, leaving Huahua behind. If she had been bullied, how could he, as a disciple, face them later?

When Lin Xiuyong heard Lin Chen speak up and saw his sudden cold expression, he felt a surge of relief inside—the girl hadn’t lied, and clearly she knew Lin Young Master well.

“Young Master Lin, this young lady said she was delivering a letter to you but accidentally dropped it. I brought Huahua over first, since the crowd there was too thick and chaotic. As for the lost letter, I’ll go find it for you.”

“Thank you, Brother Lin.”

Lin Chen thanked him, then turned to Huahua: “Is this a letter from my master?”

“Yes. Master Yu told me to deliver two letters to you, but I lost them.”

Seeing Lin Chen, Huahua felt as if she’d found family again—tears fell like a curtain of rain.

“Don’t worry, Sister Huahua. Letters aren’t valuable. With Brother Lin’s help, we’ll find them soon.”

Lin Chen comforted Huahua, glancing briefly at Lin Xiuyong. In such a crowded scene, pickpockets would surely take advantage—but the envelopes themselves held no value.

Even if they couldn’t find them now, Brother Lin could track down the thieves and force them to return the letters. The only real risk was if the thief discovered they were letters and tore them up on the spot.

But thieves rarely open letters on the scene. If Brother Lin finds the head of that gang, he can still recover the letters.

“Young Master Lin, I’ll go look for the letters now.”

Lin Xiuyong departed. Lin Chen led Huahua toward the Jingshui Martial Hall area. When he saw Kong Yinglei, Jiang Jie, and the other disciples watching curiously, he explained: “Sister Huahua is from Commissioner Shu’s retinue. She came to deliver a letter to me.”

Kong Yinglei nodded slightly. She didn’t know what relationship Lin Chen had with Commissioner Shu, but she knew Lin Chen had received his Opening Meridian Pill thanks largely to Commissioner Shu’s intervention.

After explaining Huahua’s identity to Master Kong, Lin Chen turned to her with curiosity: “My master wrote me two letters?”

Normally, one letter would suffice.

If the content was too long, you could just add another sheet inside the envelope—no courier system in this era imposed weight limits on letters.

“Master Yu told me to decide which letter to give you based on your ranking in the contest.”

Now that the letters were lost, Huahua no longer held back.

Lin Chen froze. Two letters? Deciding which one to give him based on his contest ranking?

Three breaths later, Lin Chen felt a deep pang—he understood why his master had done this.

One letter was meant to encourage him; the other, to caution him.

If his ranking was poor, he’d receive the encouraging letter, to keep his spirit up on the martial path.

If his ranking was high, he’d receive the cautionary letter, to prevent arrogance and complacency.

Master Yu truly thought deeply.

Lin Chen could guess it. Kong Yinglei and Shen Lin, both former instructors themselves, quickly deduced the truth as well.

Both women’s expressions softened. To write two letters with such care—Master Yu, the man Lin Chen spoke of, was truly a great teacher.

“Lin Chen, who is this Master Yu?” Kong Yinglei couldn’t help asking.

“Master Yu is my instructor at the Martial Hall. Without him, I could never have achieved what I have today.”

Lin Chen’s tone was solemn, filled with reverence. Even though he was now a Martial Hall student, and even before Master Kong and Instructor Shen, he would not hide his gratitude and respect for his former instructor—not for the sake of convenience or favor.

The Wuzhengsuo warrior standing nearby, listening to their conversation, wore a thoughtful expression.

He was Su’s trusted aide and knew what his lord sought.

If the letters’ contents were truly as he suspected, they would greatly aid his lord’s plans.

A scholar from a humble background, bound in loyalty to his master—wasn’t that precisely the kind of moral achievement his lord wished to promote?

Thinking this, the man slipped away quietly and gave a few quiet orders to his subordinates nearby.

(End of Chapter)