It was plain to see that Old Huang was troubled.
Yes, he kept a low profile—but he couldn't be treated as a stepping stone every single time.
Over the years, how many schools had climbed up by treading on the Sea Sand style, each one recruiting disciples in droves and raking money in.
Old Huang loved money, and he envied them sorely.
At the root of it, the reason he kept a low profile was that, apart from the Three Heroes who had already graduated, he had produced no presentable successor in all these years. If he wanted to be high-profile, he had nothing to be high-profile with.
"They've gone too far!" Ah Zhen said. "Master, leave it to us. We'll make sure those people from the Night Heron Martial Arts Hall slink home in disgrace."
"I'm strong, Master—leave it to me!" Cheng Kuiqiang said.
Liu Chun laughed. "Your cultivation is a bit short of the mark. Night Heron Hall sets a high bar. I'd guess the disciples coming for the formal hall visit will be Purple Membrane at the very least."
Huang Sihai nodded. "That's right. This time Night Heron Hall plans to send eight people for the exchange—four from Pine Hall, four from Heron Hall...
"Pine Hall is about the level of our first-floor students. Heron Hall is second-floor level—nothing to do with you.
"Heron Hall is manageable. Our own hall's second floor has masters too. They can't match the Three Heroes, but they should be able to hold their own against Heron Hall. Even if they lose, it won't be a crushing defeat... Pine Hall is the trouble. As far as I know, their Pine Hall disciples could field four Purple Membranes for this visit without any strain.
"On our side, apart from Liu Chun, among you lot... the closest are Ah Zhen and Cheng Kuiqiang. You two—can you reach Purple Membrane within a month?"
Huang Sihai looked at Ah Zhen and Cheng Kuiqiang.
"No problem," the two of them promised.
"Very well. Cheng Kuiqiang has innate divine strength, and he's been practicing hard qigong under Lion Head Buddha. If he makes Purple Membrane, he'll be a master within his own realm—he'd have a real chance," Huang Sihai said, stroking his beard and thinking it over.
Ah Zhen pouted. "Master, I'm not bad either. My Flipping Sand Palm is nearly at minor success, I've cultivated soft force, and I can hold my own in a fight."
"You? You're a girl—your innate constitution is a bit weaker... Just don't lose too ugly, and that'll be enough," Huang Sihai said bluntly.
"We're still one short." Liu Chun frowned. "Master, why not just let me take all the bouts?"
"That won't do. If we let them fleece you, all on your own, wouldn't it look like my Sea Sand style has no one left?" Huang Sihai vetoed the idea.
He pondered a moment, then looked at the others. "Anyone else confident of reaching Purple Membrane within a month?"
No one made a sound. Forget Purple Membrane—plenty of people in the hall didn't even have Green Membrane yet.
Li Xiuwen had been looking down, lost in thought; when he raised his head, he met Huang Sihai's gaze.
"Ah Wen? Are you confident?" Huang Sihai asked offhandedly.
"Master, I'm just about there. I could give it a try," Li Xiuwen said after a moment's thought.
He did have confidence, but he couldn't promise too much. If he took this chance to show himself off a little, he might win Old Huang's favor—and with it a downpour of resources.
"Fine. Then work at it. Even if you fall short, you'll go up anyway. With luck, you'll be matched against their strongest disciple, and you can still play your part."
Old Huang clearly expected nothing of Li Xiuwen. Whether this poor boy could even cover next month's fee was an open question—Purple Membrane, no less.
"Master... if we win, is there a reward?" Ah Zhen couldn't help asking.
Li Xiuwen pricked up his ears. He was in fact somewhat reluctant to step forward.
He didn't like fighting, and a fight with nothing in it for him, he wanted to fight even less.
Huang Sihai shot Ah Zhen a glance and said with a laugh, "Rewards, rewards, morning to night. You really are my disciple."
"You taught me well, Master," Ah Zhen said with a grin.
Huang Sihai said, "Of course there's a reward. If you can win and boost the Sea Sand name, I'll reward you with one fish ball to help you force your breakthrough."
Ah Zhen said, "That's all, Master?"
"What more do you want?"
"Nothing..." Ah Zhen didn't dare say more.
With so many disciples watching, Huang Sihai perhaps felt a little stingy too.
He figured this ragtag bunch's odds of beating Night Heron Hall weren't high anyway, so he said,
"How about this: win, and it's two fish balls, plus three months' fees waived. Good enough?"
"Yay! Master, you're so generous!" Ah Zhen cheered.
Li Xiuwen's heart went hot as well.
By his count, that came to 2,800 dollars!
Back when he worked at the hair salon, two years of wages—eating and drinking nothing—was what it would have taken to save that much.
"One more thing. If you can win, I'll additionally teach you a movement technique as a reward—one normally reserved for the second floor, one you'd have to pay extra to learn."
Old Huang kept raising the stakes, and everyone's hearts blazed, each of them itching to get started.
Even the self-important Liu Chun was a little stirred.
A movement technique!
It falls under fighting techniques, but it is far rarer.
The vast majority of martial artists never in their lives get the chance to touch one.
Learn a movement technique and pair it with your fighting techniques, and a Purple Membrane has hope of defeating a Black Membrane.
Like Cheng Kuiqiang's hard qigong, a movement technique can serve as a martial artist's trump card!
Li Xiuwen's heart stirred too. Money could always be earned, but a chance to learn a movement technique did not come often.
This time, Old Huang was truly generous!
"Master, I think I can reach Purple Membrane too."
"Me too."
Everyone who had just been silent raised a hand.
"Talk is useless. Before the visit, I will personally inspect your cultivation. No Purple Membrane, no deal."
With that, Huang Sihai turned and left.
He had never counted on these people winning in the first place.
He knew perfectly well in his own heart that the aptitude of the disciples he had recruited was genuinely inferior to Old Ye's carefully handpicked ones.
He was only dangling a few rewards to fire up this crowd's enthusiasm for training, hoping next month's loss wouldn't be too miserable.
...
At dusk, the last light slanted through the gaps between buildings, scattering flecks of gold.
Li Xiuwen, a loose coat draped over his shoulders, was walking briskly home.
Suddenly, the manhole cover ahead was pushed up from below, and a tall figure climbed out.
One of his hands was wrapped in bandages, and several vicious scars scored his face. When he saw Li Xiuwen, the corners of his mouth curled upward.
"Ah Wen, long time no see. Did you miss your Brother Ji?"
Li Xiuwen's heart sank. He had never expected this Brother Ji to still be alive.
Going by his look, he had taken wounds—no doubt he'd fought with someone.
Li Xiuwen offered a cigarette, lit it, and bent at the waist, smiling. "Brother Ji, what have you been up to all this time?"
Brother Ji took a couple of drags and said, "Nothing much. Just killed some fool who didn't know better."
"Brother Ji, mighty as ever! I've got a few things to do, so I'll head home first." So saying, Li Xiuwen turned to go.
"What's the hurry, off to your next life?... It's about that time, isn't it—next month's payment. My own pot has barely been able to boil lately." Brother Ji pressed a hand down on Li Xiuwen's shoulder, smiling.
"This is all I have—forty dollars." Li Xiuwen smiled bitterly and pulled four crumpled bills out of his shoe.
"You'll have to work hard and earn more." Brother Ji took the money and handed Li Xiuwen a small oil-paper packet. "Good stuff. Take it."
Li Xiuwen opened it. Inside the oil-paper packet was a pinch of white powder. His face changed. "Brother Ji, what is this?"
"Never seen it? Powder. Don't say I've ever shorted you—a pinch the size of this fingernail is worth fifty dollars. I look on you as a brother." Brother Ji grinned.
"Brother, I don't touch that stuff. My aunt would beat me to death," Li Xiuwen said helplessly.
"Then should I beat you to death right now?" Brother Ji's face turned faster than a page flips. He narrowed his eyes, and danger radiated from him.
Li Xiuwen understood: Brother Ji meant to use opium to control him, to make him run his errands.
Many bosses control their men this way. Once a man is hooked, he is forever beholden to the boss—never able to quit, never able to leave.
"Brother Ji, whatever you want done, I'll listen to you. Absolutely devoted—my family lives right here. I can't run," Li Xiuwen said, his face bitter.
Brother Ji thought about it. There was something in that. He took back the oil-paper packet and grinned. "Three days from now, come find me here at nine at night. From then on, make the powder for me, and I guarantee you'll make big money."
Brother Ji slapped Li Xiuwen's shoulder hard. Li Xiuwen immediately staggered and sat down on the ground, fear showing on his face.
Brother Ji smiled, pleased with himself, and swiftly dropped back into the sewer.
Li Xiuwen brushed off the dust and stood up, his eyes like a cold pool ten thousand ages could not thaw.
Killing intent condensed into water, dripping into that cold pool, spreading ring after ring of ripples.
Chapter 16