Personal Disciple!

A disciple?! Liang Qu raised a hand to wipe the bloody froth from the corner of his mouth. Only then did he realize that the web between his thumb and index finger had torn open at some point, the flesh rolled back and his entire hand soaked in blood—likely from smashing that brick earlier. Failing to wipe away the bloody froth, he merely smeared another streak of crimson across his cheek. Yet despite his blood-streaked face, Liang Qu paid it no mind. His eyes were wide with disbelief. With so many people leaping down from the roof, followed closely by Hu Qi and Xiang Changsong, the identity of the elderly leader was self-evident. Yang Dongxiong! The true master of the Yang Family Martial Hall, rumored to be the mightiest grand martial master in all of Pingyang Town! Liang Qu did not know what Zhao Xueyuan, the third young master of the Zhao family, had been thinking before the brawl broke out. If he had known, he would have agreed completely. In storybooks, emperors were always wise and formidable, and commoners only suffered because treacherous ministers held sway and clouded the sovereign’s eyes and ears. But stories were, after all, only stories—written precisely because such ideals were so rarely attained in real life. Reality had few great detectives, and strangers were not your parents; no one cared to waste vast amounts of energy meticulously sifting right from wrong on another's behalf. When wronged, how many dared report it to the authorities? In a schoolroom, how many victims of bullying dared run to the teacher? Those above lacked the patience to parse who was right and who was wrong among those below. They would only see someone causing trouble and assume beating both sides and driving them out would settle matters neatly. Those of humble standing, accustomed to hardship, found it difficult to harbor illusions about those above them. Unless one could solve the problem once and for all by driving the tormentors completely out of one's sphere of life, the only one left battered and bruised would be oneself. Liang Qu had fully expected the masters of the hall to treat him as a troublemaker and throw him out. Never in his wildest dreams had he anticipated such a turn of events! Yang Dongxiong leaned forward slightly, a faint smile on his face. "What? Unwilling?" Hearing this, Li Libo and Chen Jiechang behind him grew frantic with anxiety. If they had been able to communicate with their minds, they would have screamed in Liang Qu's head ten thousand times: *Accept! Hurry and accept!* The surrounding apprentices remained dead silent. Liang Qu could feel them staring at his back, their eyes overflowing with envy, jealousy, and resentment. A disciple—a true, personal disciple! Not an ordinary apprentice who merely paid fees to enter the martial hall! Snapping out of his daze, Liang Qu immediately dropped to his knees and knocked his head three times against the ground with resounding thuds. "Disciple Liang Qu pays respects to Master!" A man's knees were worth gold, but kneeling to one's master brought no shame! As the old saying went, teach the apprentice and starve the master. If one wished to learn a craft, one had to care for the master in life and see him to the grave. That truth held wherever one went. Yang Dongxiong's actions convinced Liang Qu that his choice was not a mistake. "Good, good, good!" Yang Dongxiong was overjoyed. Bending down, he helped Liang Qu to his feet. "Up you get. You're wounded, so we'll leave the master-apprentice tea ceremony for later. But since you have knelt, the bond between master and disciple is sealed. From this day forward, you are my ninth disciple!" Liang Qu looked up to see seven figures standing behind Yang Dongxiong—six men and one woman. Though one was missing from the eight, Senior Brother Xiang and Senior Brother Hu were among them. Senior Brother Xiang winked at him playfully, while Senior Brother Hu gave him a subtle thumbs-up. "Congratulations, Junior Brother Liang!" "Junior Brother Liang is quite the handsome talent." "It's over! With Junior Brother Liang here, isn't my title as the most handsome ruined?" a tall youth exclaimed in exaggerated dismay. "Oh, give it a rest! Even without Junior Brother Liang, that title belonged to me anyway, alright?" "Neither of you has the decency to look in a puddle and see yourselves," the sole female disciple remarked with a cold scoff. Xiang Changsong patted his pockets, looking rather regretful. "A pity I don't have a decent welcoming gift on me right now. I'll make it up to you next time we meet." "Blast it, Junior Brother Xiang, why did you have to bring that up! I hate picking gifts the most!" The scene was thoroughly lively, and Liang Qu could not help but smile. *How wonderful. It seems my choice truly was right.* Stroking his beard, Yang Dongxiong looked at Liang Qu with growing fondness. He had not accepted a disciple on a whim, much less out of some desire to compensate him. It came purely from an appreciation for genuine talent. Earlier on the roof, Yang Dongxiong had listened to the apprentice dragooned into explaining the full story. Even if some details had been missing, a man of his years could see through the entire affair at a glance. Xiang Changsong had even chimed in from the side, recounting how Liang Qu had spent all his savings to save Chen Qingjiang simply because Chen Qingjiang had once shared a single flatbread with him. It was not because the tale was so famous that it had spread from Yixing to Pingyang Town, but rather because Li Libo and Chen Jiechang had mentioned it. After Hu Qi took his leave of absence, Xiang Changsong had been the only person the two knew in the martial hall; in their casual conversations, they had naturally brought it up. One deed heard with his own ears, one witnessed with his own eyes. Together, the two were more than enough to prove Liang Qu's fine character. On top of that, being able to fight seven opponents alone after only a month in the hall proved that his natural talent was far from weak. His qi and blood had to be at least as thick as a pinky finger to give him such physical prowess. He had talent, he had character, and he was already an apprentice of his own hall. His only shortcoming was an unrefined fighting method. He had fought too clumsily, meeting force with force when facing seven opponents at once, when he could easily have dealt with them at far less cost. Still, that was no major flaw. Many in the martial hall focused solely on the refining method and neglected the fighting method. They were all striving to become martial practitioners to carve out a living, so it was entirely understandable. It could be remedied in the days to come. Yang Dongxiong offered some words of encouragement. "Your courage is commendable, but your fighting method lacks finesse. While the refining method is paramount, you must never forget to study the fighting method as well. A martial practitioner, after all, wrests a path to survival through combat." Liang Qu quickly cupped his fists. "Disciple will keep it firmly in mind." He knew Master Yang was right. He had only learned the refining method, not the fighting method, and had relied entirely on raw guts during the clash. Yet he had had little choice. A fighting method was not something one mastered simply by posing and memorizing routines—one needed only look at the seven sprawled across the flagstones to see that. They had been at the hall for so long, yet all they could do was swing their staves around. Becoming an expert required prolonged sparring to build muscle memory. That Liang Qu had put on such a dazzling display on the grounds came down entirely to his physical attributes, along with the ferocity and calm composure forged while fighting for his life against the crab monster. Yang Dongxiong nodded and turned to his disciples. "Changsong, Hu Qi, since you already know each other, take your ninth junior brother inside to wash his face and change his clothes. Oh, and don't forget the other two. There should still be spare rooms in the back courtyard. Tidy them up tonight and let them stay." Liang Qu was smeared with blood—both his own and others'—which looked truly unsightly. Aches throbbed throughout his body from taking several solid blows, and he desperately needed to get cleaned up. "Yes, Master!" Xiang Changsong and Hu Qi cupped their fists, then stepped forward to help Li Libo and Chen Jiechang up. While Liang Qu could still walk on his own, Li Libo and Chen Jiechang had suffered heavier injuries and could barely hobble. Together, they made their way toward the corridor leading to the back courtyard. High walls on either side blocked out the moonlight and lanterns, leaving the narrow passageway pitch-black within. The training ground remained brightly lit, filled with shifting shadows. The crowd parted naturally to clear a path, like Mount Tao split by Erlang Shen. Scores of apprentices watched Liang Qu, the mockery, ridicule, and anticipation of a spectacle in their eyes giving way to awe, jealousy, and bitter resentment. In the flower beds, the crickets began chirping once more. The two sides diverged, one in the light, one in the dark. Liang Qu melted into the darkness, yet everyone present knew he was walking a far brighter path than anyone left on the training ground. Watching his new disciple depart in silence, Yang Dongxiong turned back toward the crowd on the training ground, his expression turning solemn once more. "The matter is settled, and I won't waste any more of your time. Form a line and come forward one by one to demonstrate!" Most of those present were senior apprentices and knew what was expected of them; those who had never experienced it before followed suit. A long queue quickly formed before Yang Dongxiong as the apprentices took turns stepping forward to display what they had learned that day, hoping for his guidance. Nearby, Lu Tingcai and the others lay battered and bleeding upon the ground, yet not a single person spared them a second glance.