Chapter 385: Setting Off for Fucheng

"Brother, I am sorry!"

Zhang Huaimin successfully secured a position at the Liu family; after being unemployed, his return to the workforce as a Gate Guest was confirmed.

To celebrate, the two of them drank in the garden, though this time they did not call for any young ladies.

Halfway through their drinks, Zhang Huaimin apologized to Zhou You with a look of regret.

As it turned out, he had also seen through Liu Fengji's intention to win Zhou You over, and even more so, he saw through his sworn brother's determination to refuse.

As a sworn brother, he should have stood by him through thick and thin, yet he did not say a word, fearing he would lose his own opportunity.

"Brother, you don't know, but my pride and dignity were worn away long ago."

"The Liu family is a great clan; as long as you are in Fucheng, you cannot avoid them, and it would be best if you also..."

Zhang Huaimin saw Zhou You's calm gaze and slapped his own mouth, "Never mind, you make your own decisions."

He felt deeply moved by how much Liu Fengji had done for Zhou You; it would have worked on anyone else, and they would have been desperate to kneel and acknowledge him as their master.

Alas, Zhou You did not buy into that! With the Poison Dragon saliva in hand, the purpose of this trip had been fully achieved, and he had obtained clues about the Medicine King Sect and the Ten Thousand Poisons Secret Workshop.

As an important NPC providing clues, Liu Fengji had already fulfilled his historical mission, and Zhou You did not expect to keep opening treasure chests on him!

"Big Brother, don't overthink it. Liu Fengji taking you in is a case of 'the drunkard's heart is not in the cup'; you must be careful!"

Zhang Huaimin was not stupid either, "I know. While I am at the Liu family, I will keep an eye out for you."

After obtaining the Poison Dragon saliva, Zhou You began to refine it bit by bit to strengthen the power of his Poison Palm.

This item was indeed an ancient wonder-poison, far too violent; he could only refine a negligible wisp or two each time. At this rate, it would take at least a hundred years to fully refine it for his own use.

If he wanted to speed it up, he had to find the recipe for preparing the medicinal liquid.

"Medicine King Sect."

In Zhou Family Village, Zhou You muttered these three words and suddenly realized he had a lead! The young master of Xingren Tang, Hua Youxing, was an old acquaintance with a background in the Medicine King Sect; perhaps he could dig up some information.

Therefore, the most urgent task was still to move to Fucheng.

The village was already mostly packed; livestock, caravans, dry rations, and supplies were all in place.

They were just waiting for a clear, sunny day to set off! "Young Master, someone has collapsed from Hunger outside the gate!"

Zhou Laiwei suddenly came to report.

Zhou You found it strange; in these chaotic times, was a starving person lying at the gate even news? Even if left alone, wild dogs would drag them away to eat within moments, ensuring the ground wouldn't be polluted.

"This person is different!"

Zhou Laiwei explained repeatedly until Zhou You saw the person who had fainted from hunger and realized exactly how they were different. This person was a martial artist; the joints all over his body were red and swollen, unlike an ordinary person's, and his skin was bloated, leaving deep, sunken indentations when pressed.

This was the state of a body that had suffered heavy blows, exceeding its defensive limits, resulting in contusions, congested fascia, and fractured bones with marrow leakage.

In short, the external injuries were too severe and were already life-threatening.

"His Qi and blood are completely exhausted, his stomach is empty, and even if he were conscious, he couldn't even beat Liu Bing."

Zuo Shier commented.

Upon hearing this, Liu Bing's eyes widened; what did that mean, what did he mean he couldn't even beat him?

Oh, it was a martial artist, never mind then.

A moment later, the starving martial artist woke up and his first words were, "Food."

He swallowed his saliva, "Villagers, I am not here to rob you of food. I can see that the young and strong in your village have a foundation; clearly, you practice fist arts. I want to trade my fist techniques for some food, to have a full meal before I die."

This was too pitiful for a dignified martial artist! Zhou You ordered, "Give him polished rice, fine flour, beef, and fat chicken; let him eat as much as he can and take as much as he can." The martial artist couldn't help but swallow his saliva upon hearing this, "I will tell you the mantras and practice methods of my fist arts."

While the food was being prepared, the martial artist poured out the fist technique like beans from a bag, teaching everything without holding anything back.

After listening, Zhou You judged that this fist technique could at least be cultivated to the level of a high-level martial artist; it was not some nameless farm-style trick.

After the food was served, the martial artist clutched the food to his chest, stuffing it into his mouth as if it were his enemy, weeping as he ate.

"Thank you. As a martial artist, I am dying from heavy injuries, not from hunger; it is not shameful!"

As it turned out, the competition in Fucheng was too intense. Martial artists from all four directions gathered there, and to fight for a piece of territory to open a school, one had to win at least a dozen matches to emerge victorious.

This martial artist had originally been one of them, but he failed to hold out until the final victory. After fighting match after match, his travel funds were exhausted, his money ran out, and in the end, he couldn't even afford to eat.

In the final match, he went onto the stage starving and was beaten into a coma by a well-fed opponent, suffering heavy injuries all over his body.

Defeat was defeat; there were no revival matches, and no second chances.

"Fucheng is a prosperous place, yet one cannot even afford to eat."

Liu Bing was shocked; he had never heard of a martial artist going hungry! Someone nearby said gloomily, "Everything in Fucheng has an owner; without money, you cannot touch a single needle or thread."

Don't think that just because you can fight you can get ahead; there are plenty of people who can fight better and are more desperate than you. Without money, there is no food!

After this martial artist left Fucheng, knowing his injuries were too severe, he just wanted to go home to die, but the road was barren everywhere, and he couldn't find a single thing to fill his stomach.

He finally reached Zhou Family Village, but seeing the tight security, he couldn't break in with his heavily injured body and ended up fainting at the gate.

Fortunately, before he fainted, he desperately shouted twice, "Trading fist techniques for a meal."

Only then did Zhou Laiwei report it to Zhou You and receive his permission for an audience.

Otherwise, the martial artist's fate would have been to be dragged away and eaten clean by wild dogs while in a coma.

The martial artist was already full, but he was still desperately stuffing food into his mouth, clearly having been so hungry before that he feared tasting Hunger again.

"Don't rush, there is plenty of food; you can take more with you."

Zhou Family Village was not short of food; even if the martial artist could eat, he couldn't eat that much.

The martial artist suddenly stopped and bowed heavily toward Zhou You, "The fist technique I gave is real; please help me pass it on."

After saying this, he clutched his stomach, let out a loud cry, and collapsed limply to the ground, bloodshot streaks appearing in his eyes.

He had been eaten to death.

The group witnessed the tragic death of the nameless martial artist with heavy hearts; Fucheng was even more dangerous than they had imagined! Even if the martial artist had been well-fed, the injuries he accumulated from fighting in the Fucheng arenas were beyond saving; the only difference was dying sooner or later.

"Drag him away and bury him!"

Zhou You said to Zhou Laiwei, "His fist technique is not bad. Since the villagers have learned his fist, do not neglect the sacrifices during the annual seasons. He feared hunger most while he was alive, so set out a few more types of offerings."

As the words fell, the grave of the nameless martial artist landed in the fields of Zhou Family Village.

"Everyone, this is a warning from the heavens; Fucheng is by no means a good place. If you can't make a name for yourself, you won't even be able to return home."

"If anyone wants to back out, stay in Zhou Family Village; having enough to eat and getting by is still not a problem."

Before setting off, Zhou You gathered everyone to explain the stakes, yet not a single person backed out.

People live in this world for more than just a full meal; when the nameless martial artist ventured into Fucheng alone, could he not also have been well-fed and warmly clothed? Yet he still charged in without looking back. This is a high-stakes gamble: the winner gains fame and fortune, while the loser ends up with nothing.

(End of chapter)