Chapter Fourteen: The Beginning

Page 1/3
At Ping’an Lane, inside Chen Mu’s home.
“Two paupers,” Chen Mu muttered in disappointment as he fiddled with a few pieces of broken silver.
The return gifts from the two were far inferior to those from Master Yan!
Fortunately, his portrait business had been thriving lately, so this small sum was insignificant.
The two young thugs now had broken legs and wouldn’t dare trouble him for at least half a year.
Tucking away the silver, Chen Mu walked to the west side of the courtyard.
Beneath a thatched shed lay a small pile of broken stones.
These were deliberately collected for practicing the flying locust stones.
Whoosh... bang!
Whoosh... bang!
A series of low whistling explosions echoed throughout the yard.
After an hour of practice, Chen Mu rubbed his aching arms and stopped.
“I can’t practice at home anymore,” he frowned, staring at the pockmarked earthen wall, afraid he might smash it to pieces.
With a thought, he summoned the gray wall.
Writing: 1132/10000/Second Tier;
Drawing: 569/10000/Second Tier;
Throwing: 1331/10000/Second Tier;
He had trained the flying locust stones to the second tier, their power gradually manifesting.
Within ten meters, every shot hit its mark, and the impact was formidable, comparable even to small-caliber firearms from his previous life.
It was thanks to the power of the flying locust stones that he had easily broken the legs of two thugs.
“This is just second tier...” Chen Mu said with eager anticipation.
After a brief rest, he resumed contemplating the Red Hawk Form Training Technique.
According to Sheng Hong’s introduction, this technique was a secret art capable of completely transforming the body.
With continued practice, it could gradually break through human limits, granting strength, speed, and reflexes beyond ordinary reach.
It was also the reason Captain Lu could leap five or six meters with a single step.
The Red Hawk Form Training mainly focused on enhancing speed.
The difficulty lay in mastering the breathing method, which had a comprehensive set of requirements.
Sixty breaths made one cycle, with specific demands on the depth, pace, and rhythm of each breath.
Each breath connected and responded to the next, forming a continuous loop.
Chen Mu needed to change his breathing habits to remain within this cycle continuously.
Only then, combined with the correct postures of the training, could one truly enter the path.
He had been diligently altering his breathing habits these days and could now largely maintain steady breathing.
Today was the day to test the leaping posture.
Chen Mu focused intensely, strictly following Sheng Hong’s taught footwork, running and dodging around the courtyard.
At one moment, his breathing and overall movement suddenly linked in a certain way.
His whole body felt like a car with the clutch released—power and motion perfectly connected.
His exertion became smooth and effortless.
As soon as he stopped, Chen Mu immediately summoned the gray wall.
Writing: 1132/10000/Second Tier;

Page 2/3
Drawing: 569/10000/Second Tier;
Throwing: 1372/10000/Second Tier;
Red Hawk Form Training: 3/10000/First Tier;
“Finally, I’ve made it onto the list.”
...
At the West Market, inside the Security Hall.
A small pharmacy tucked away in a narrow alley.
Ordinary townsfolk usually came here to seek medical help or buy medicine.
Chen Mu, dressed in a gray-white long robe, stepped along the green-brick path, passing through the narrow alley barely wide enough for a sliver of sky, and entered the inconspicuous pharmacy.
Fifteen minutes later, he hurried out carrying a bundle of herbs.
Afterward, he visited several other small pharmacies, purchasing various herbs separately to avoid drawing suspicion.
Only then did he hasten home.
Now that he had entered the initial stage of the Red Hawk Form Training, he needed to take the corresponding secret medicines.
Buying herbs from different shops was to prevent any one pharmacy from noticing anything unusual.
He measured the herbs according to the prescription and poured them all into a clay pot to begin boiling.
“There must be some secret to this, but for now, this will have to do,” Chen Mu sighed.
Taking medicine, eating meat, and training—these were the few activities he did at home.
To others, it might seem dull and monotonous, but he found himself oddly engrossed.
Only every few days did he have to leave to paint portraits.
This was his sole source of income and couldn’t be interrupted.
Occasionally, he also went to the county office to help draw wanted posters.
This was a promise made earlier to Captain Du.
Though unpaid, it was not without benefit.
At least no street thugs dared to trouble him anymore.
...
Time passed slowly; half a month later.
Chen Mu stepped out, preparing to buy meat at the East Market.
Training consumed great energy, and he needed at least two pounds of meat per meal to stave off hunger.
To supplement nutrition, he planned to buy several hens and raise a few sheep, pairing their milk and eggs.
He worried about losing his hair from overexertion.
Just as he arrived at the East Market, he saw a crowd gathered at the crossroads.
Zheng the butcher was leaning against the corner, joining the spectacle.
“Why is there such a crowd?” Chen Mu asked as he approached Zheng.
“Remember the Wang family massacre? They caught the culprit. Today, they’re beheading him,” Zheng replied, his jowls jiggling as he enjoyed the excitement.
At Chen Mu’s prompting, he stood on tiptoe to look.
In the center of the crossroads was a stone platform about three or four meters in diameter.
On it knelt a prisoner in a prison uniform, shackled at the feet, hands bound behind the back, head covered with a black sack.
Surrounding the platform stood many constables and officers.
To the north of the crossroads was a gray cloth canopy, under which three officials sat calmly.
In the middle was a middle-aged man in his forties.
He had a square face, slightly dark complexion, and a stern expression—he was the magistrate of Qingshan County.
Captain Du, the protector of peace, sat to his left.
On the other side was an elderly man in his fifties or sixties with graying beard, likely the county assistant.
Zheng whispered, “That fierce bandit’s formidable. I heard Captain Lu was seriously injured trying to capture him.”
To have wounded Captain Lu?
He must be another master of the Form Training!
Suddenly, the crowd grew noisy, and Chen Mu turned his head just in time to see the prisoner’s head covering removed.
Staring at the face, Chen Mu’s heart skipped a beat.
This man looked exactly like the portrait on the wanted poster.
But Chen Mu knew well that Master Yan had drawn that portrait, which was still four or five points off from the bandit’s true appearance.
“This guy isn’t the real massacre bandit!”
“Did they accidentally catch the wrong man? Or is this a scapegoat arranged by the county office?”
He couldn’t dwell on it any longer—he had to leave quickly!
“Cut me ten pounds of meat, half tenderloin, half belly. I’ll buy some white wheat first and come back for it,” Chen Mu told Zheng, then left without waiting for a reply.
After just a few steps, voices called from behind. Chen Mu paused briefly, then strode away swiftly.
...
At East Market’s Anle Lane, inside the Ruyi Zhai private room, seven or eight people were drinking and chatting.
A middle-aged man with a round face and small eyes, well-fed and prosperous-looking, sat at the head of the table.
“There’s a new young portrait artist in town with superb skills. His portraits are said to be lifelike. Master Yan, have you heard of him?” the man smiled, addressing Master Yan beside him.
Master Yan’s heart skipped a beat, but he feigned calm. “I’ve heard. Is the boss interested in hiring him?”
The prosperous man nodded. “Yes. Bringing him into our Miao Painting Studio will boost our influence.”
“But I heard he’s connected with the county office; it’s risky to make a move against him,” Master Yan said, troubled.
“You’ve got it wrong, Master Yan. For talents like this, you can’t use force,” the man shook his head.
“Our studio has connections, and he has skill. Cooperation means more clients for him and more influence for us—it’s a win-win.”
“Then I’ll give it a try,” Master Yan nodded.
“Much appreciated, Master Yan,” the man said with satisfaction.
After more toasting and merriment, Master Yan wore a broad smile as he parted from the group.
Accompanied by two burly bodyguards, he left the Ruyi Zhai.
Not far from there, his smile faded into a cold scowl.
“I never thought that brat would really make a name for himself!” Master Yan cursed inwardly.
“Zhang Qing and Li Fan are both useless. If we had taken him down early, none of this would have happened!”
Feeling threatened, he frowned deeply.
“If that kid joins Miao Painting Studio, my position won’t be safe.”
“No, I must get rid of him!” Master Yan glanced at the two burly men behind him.
“These two are tied to Miao Painting Studio’s connections; I can’t use them.”
“It looks like I’ll have to visit the Ghost Market again. Another expense. Damn brat!” Master Yan’s face darkened as he strode away briskly.

Page 3/3