Chapter 24: I Am Ill

Min Ming washed away the ointment and hastily took the medicine. Having regained a shred of strength, she propped herself against the bedstead and slowly stood up, appearing as though she might collapse at any moment.

Chen Yi washed his hands in a water vat, pulled back the curtain, and stepped into the bedchamber.

At the sight of that handsome face, Min Ming’s powdered, pretty countenance turned even paler.

Chen Yi’s expression turned cold. He stared straight at her. "You want to be my concubine, yet you poison me? What kind of twisted games are you playing with me?"

As the words hit her ears, a wave of weakness washed over Min Ming, and she slumped back onto the bed. The bedframe shuddered slightly.

Exposed. It was all exposed... It was over...

"No, don't... please, I beg you, spare me. It was the Wuyong Pavilion that made me do it, it was them... Please, I beg you, spare me, give me a way to survive..."

Min Ming’s eyes were red, like a frightened fawn.

"Spare you? You poisoned me and nearly killed me, and now you say it’s all the Wuyong Pavilion’s fault, and you are blameless?"

As Chen Yi spoke, he walked slowly toward her. Min Ming struggled to avoid his gaze, her hands and feet trembling slightly.

"Thousand-Household... I, I was wrong. The Wuyong Pavilion forced me; I didn't want to... but I was still wrong. *Sob*... I originally wanted to be your concubine, and you promised not to touch Min Ning, but, but... Thousand-Household, it is my fault..."

Min Ming’s face was already streaked with tears.

Chen Yi stepped closer, coldly savoring her panic, and reached out to lift her chin. "These things were yours to promise me in the first place..."

Suddenly, as if seeking to seize the initiative or establish some form of protection, Min Ming took the initiative and leaned into him. She trembled as she wrapped her arms around him, her soft body pressing directly against his chest.

"I promise you... I was wrong, I shouldn't have... but I had no choice, I didn't want to, it wasn't my will, *sob*... I... I will redeem myself, I will be your concubine, your maid, is that alright? Is it? *Sob*... Thousand-Household, I was wrong..."

She cried and pleaded, clinging tightly to him. It was less an act of naive affection and more an act of active submission, hoping to trade her confession for a shred of pity. Such initiative suddenly reminded Chen Yi of the way Min Ning had extended her tongue when they kissed.

The sisters were opposites in temperament, yet so strikingly similar.

Chen Yi felt her tears soaking into his chest.

She had succeeded.

His heart softened. He held her shaking shoulders as gently as he could, wanting to say something, but he felt it might undermine his authority. Thinking that his leniency might be exploited by this cunning courtesan, he remained silent.

Min Ming only felt a terrifying silence.

"I... I will make it up to you, Thousand-Household. Let me... let me... groom..."

The courtesan’s voice was intermittent. Her face was flushed with unbearable shame, and she could hardly bring herself to say those two words—the words no courtesan could easily utter. But she gritted her teeth and finally said it:

"Take me as your primary concubine!"

Chen Yi immediately suppressed the pity in his eyes, his gaze turning icy once more.

No matter what... he had to make her suffer a bit to teach her a lesson.

"Master..."

A voice came from somewhere.

Chen Yi was startled and looked toward the bed.

Yin Tingxue was clutching the quilt, staring straight at him, her voice as thin as a thread:

"...I am sick."

There was a tremor in her whisper.

Chen Yi was momentarily stunned.

Her saying "I am sick" was not a reminder of her illness, but a pretext—a shield to protect a woman she had never met. Perhaps it was out of a shred of kindness, or perhaps out of the shared plight of women, or perhaps a bit of both.

Chen Yi understood that if he insisted, Yin Tingxue could not stop him.

But even so...

Forget it.

Chen Yi sighed softly, touched Yin Tingxue’s forehead, then glanced coldly at Min Ming and planted a sudden kiss on her lips.

It was a light touch, quickly withdrawn, like a dragonfly skimming the water—less a reprimand than a playful tug at the strings of affection.

Min Ming’s earlobes remained red, her expression dazed, looking at Chen Yi in disbelief. She couldn't understand why the reprimand she received was so light.

"Go back, get some rest, and don't let Min Ning worry."

Chen Yi said gently, adding at the end:

"This matter... I will not take it to heart."

...

The next morning arrived with the second crow of the rooster. The events of last night faded like the wind.

Looking at the *Cangshan Fist* manual, Chen Yi took a deep breath.

After much deliberation, he decided to channel his internal energy into it. Having a martial art for unarmed combat meant he could face enemies even without a weapon. And when armed, a hand-to-hand technique could also provide a boost, as long blades were difficult to wield in close quarters.

[You come into contact with *Cangshan Fist* for the first time. Knowing it is an extremely profound martial art, you muster all your spirit and vow to master it.]

[After about two years of study, you fail.]

Chen Yi was stunned.

Failure... this was the first time such a thing had happened. This manual was truly not simple.

[You spend five years repeatedly practicing the footwork and strikes, letting the principles of the manual permeate your body. You put in painstaking effort, but the results are minimal.]

[Ten years later, through hard training, you have memorized the *Cangshan Fist* by heart. Perhaps heaven rewards the diligent, as you begin to grasp some of its subtleties. You practice the footwork and, by chance, master a trace of its essence.]

[In the twentieth year, you stop focusing on mere repetition and try to grasp the inner perception. This meditative state lasts for decades.]

[In the forty-ninth year, you finally grasp the essence of the fist philosophy. You throw a punch, and faintly, you can hear the surrounding air vibrate.]

[*Cangshan Fist (Beginner)*]

Despite his expectations, Chen Yi was nearly shocked out of his wits.

Forty-nine years of internal energy could have brought other arts, like the *Slaying Dragon Blade* or the *Eagle Drop Skill*, to perfection and merged them into a new art. Yet, *Cangshan Fist* was still only at the beginner level.

However, surprise aside, the subsequent gains brought Chen Yi some comfort.

He raised his arms, took a stance, and a surge of majestic fist intent rose within him. The intent washed over his entire body, as if cleansing his marrow and renewing his sinews. His mind was filled with the philosophy of the fist, and his breath became longer and calmer. Gradually, the texture of his skin seemed to become more refined, and his blood and energy merged into a seamless whole.

He dropped his stance, took a deep breath, and laughed:

"Not bad."

"This punch cost me forty-nine years of effort."

Come to think of it, what rank of warrior was he now?

In *Heaven Beyond Heaven*, warriors of the world were divided into nine ranks; beyond the ninth rank were those considered "unranked."

Within the nine ranks, there were further distinctions. Those who could circulate energy through their meridians to break ten men were the "Lower Three Ranks." Those who channeled internal energy into martial arts, capable of rivaling soldiers and piercing armor, were the "Middle Three Ranks."

As for the "Upper Three Ranks," the third rank was considered an entry to mastery, where martial arts were perfected and internal energy overflowed, earning the title of "Lesser Grandmaster." The second and first ranks were collectively called "Grandmasters." The second rank possessed an inner world within their meridians, while the first rank was the pinnacle of martial arts, divided into true and false, large and small; the upper grade being the true.

Chen Yi estimated that he was in the Middle Three Ranks.

As for the specific rank, after learning *Cangshan Fist*, he should have reached the sixth rank. If he faced a fifth-rank expert, such as the recently rising Huang Liuqing of the Bailiu Sect, although he might not be able to face him head-on, he would certainly be able to turn on his heels and flee.

As for warriors below the fifth rank, dealing with them would be no problem.

After preparing lunch for Yin Tingxue, Chen Yi pushed open the door and headed not toward the West Depot, but toward the East Depot.

Although he still carried the badge of a West Depot Thousand-Household, one could not simply show up without a proper greeting. It was better to pay a visit and make himself known.

The East Depot was not far from the West Depot, and it didn't take long for Chen Yi to arrive at the East Depot magistrate’s office.

The guards at the gate saw Chen Yi and immediately said with enthusiasm:

"Morning, Thousand-Household Chen."

Chen Yi replied, then said:

"I’ve come to greet the brothers of the East Depot and get to know everyone."

The guard turned back and shouted:

"Thousand-Household Chen is here!"

The drill ground of the East Depot seemed to go quiet for a moment.

Chen Yi crossed the threshold and walked in slowly.

Several East Depot agents saw Chen Yi and offered their salutes. Chen Yi’s performance in the East Depot hall that day had earned him the favor of many agents. He figured that, other than the members of the Ding'an faction, no one would think of causing him trouble.

He saw the East Depot Thousand-Household, Wang Gu, who had been practicing on a giant wooden stake, suddenly stop and look at Chen Yi with an inscrutable expression.

When Chen Yi noticed the gaze and looked over, Wang Gu put on a smiling face and walked over:

"Thousand-Household, please, come this way. Let me show you around the East Depot."

Chen Yi glanced sideways, thinking to himself:

*Unsolicited kindness always hides a motive.*