The meal ended in silence.
Qin Dahai cleared the dishes while Qin Feng stood to the side.
"With your constitution, martial arts is indeed a struggle."
Qin Dahai said while rinsing the plates, "Honestly, there’s nothing wrong with vocational school. You could live a peaceful life. You might not be famous, but at least you’d be safe. The path of the Martial Dao, on the other hand, is filled with trials of blood and fire..."
"I want to try."
Qin Feng said, "If I really can’t get into a Martial Arts High School, I’ll go to a vocational one. It just means I won’t get a good placement since I missed the early admissions."
"Alright. Dad supports you."
Qin Dahai dried his hands, walked into the living room, and made a call on his wrist-mounted terminal.
A light screen popped up, displaying the image of a middle-aged man in blue work clothes, his face smudged with grease.
"Dahai?"
On the other end was his uncle, Wang Ming, a Power Armor Maintenance technician.
The background was noisy, filled with the clang of metal and the roar of machinery.
"Ah Ming, you busy?"
"Just finished repairing the leg hydraulics on a ’Raging Bear.’ Taking a break. What’s up?"
Wang Ming picked up a water bottle and took a huge gulp.
"I wanted to ask you something. You know about Xiaofeng’s situation. The school is pushing him toward vocational school, and he’s not allowed to practice martial arts there until the high school entrance exams are over. I was wondering if you know any reliable Martial Arts Halls? A professional one."
Wang Ming fell silent.
He knew all too well how much money a Martial Arts Hall could burn through.
"Brother, with Xiaofeng’s condition... a Martial Arts Hall, I’m afraid..."
He didn’t finish his sentence, but the meaning was clear.
"Let him try. We can’t just give up like this."
Qin Dahai’s voice remained steady.
"That’s true."
Wang Ming rubbed his chin.
"The Extreme Martial Arts Hall. It’s over in the No. 3 Industrial Zone. The master is named Sun Chan Hall, and he has a great reputation. Our factory director specifically mentioned him. The fees... I heard the regular class is three thousand a month, and the master’s class is ten thousand a month."
"Okay. Send me his contact info."
"Alright."
The call ended, and Qin Dahai’s terminal soon received a contact card.
"Dad, that’s too expensive."
Qin Feng’s eyes went wide.
His father’s monthly salary was ten thousand Imperial Coins. He had to cover rent, utilities, food, and the extra Nutrient Liquid Qin Feng needed for his condition. There was never much left over each month.
The most basic class was three thousand a month, while the master’s class was a full ten thousand.
"Don’t you worry about the money."
Qin Dahai forwarded the contact card to Qin Feng. "Go find your uncle tomorrow. He’ll take you there to check it out."
"Dad..."
"Go to sleep."
Qin Dahai cut him off, his tone leaving no room for argument.
Qin Feng returned to his room.
The room was small, containing only a bed and a desk.
He lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling with his eyes wide open.
「The next morning」
Following his father’s instructions, Qin Feng went to his uncle Wang Ming’s house.
Wang Ming lived in the more remote Hongye community. His house was even smaller than Qin Feng’s, with six people living in two rooms.
When Qin Feng arrived, his three younger cousins were chasing each other around the living room, and the youngest was crying in a cradle.
Wang Ming had just gotten off the night shift. He had dark circles under his eyes and looked exhausted.
"Xiaofeng, you’re here. Have a seat."
He greeted Qin Feng, then turned and called into the house, "Li Juan, pour the boy a glass of water."
His aunt, Li Juan, peeked out from the kitchen. She looked somewhat haggard, the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes deeper than those of other people her age.
She glanced at Qin Feng, nodded, and brought out a glass of water.
"Auntie."
Qin Feng greeted her.
"Your dad told me everything yesterday."
Wang Ming motioned for him to sit and pulled up a chair for himself. "About the Extreme Martial Arts Hall, I’ll send you the master’s contact info directly. Just add him and say that I, Wang Ming, referred you."
He operated his wrist-mounted terminal and sent Master Sun Chan Hall’s contact card to Qin Feng.
"Our factory director said that Master Sun is an upright man. He doesn’t go in for any of that flashy nonsense. He recommended him to us specifically."
Wang Ming explained in a low voice, "I heard he competed in the Starry Sky Cup and later spent a few decades with a group of Wandering Merchants. He’s the real deal."
"Thank you, Uncle."
"We’re family. No need for thanks."
Wang Ming looked at his nephew. He wasn’t short, but he was thin and frail, with a sickly pale complexion.
He fumbled in his pocket as if to pull out a cigarette, but then lowered his hand.
"The registration fee is ten thousand a month. I’ll just..."
"Uncle, my dad will give it to me," Qin Feng said quickly.
Wang Ming ignored him and started operating his terminal.
A moment later, Qin Feng’s terminal beeped.
[Transfer received from Wang Ming: 10,000 Imperial Coins.]
"Uncle, I can’t take this!"
Qin Feng shot to his feet. "Your family..."
"Take it."
Wang Ming’s tone grew heavier. "It’s not easy for your dad, raising you all by himself. This is the least I can do as your uncle. If you feel bad about it, then once you’ve made a name for yourself, repay your dad properly and take good care of your little cousins."
He forced the transfer through, giving Qin Feng no chance to refuse.
"Go on. Add him and set a time to go check it out."
Staring at the hefty transfer, Qin Feng’s eyes began to sting.
He stood up and bowed deeply.
"Thank you, Uncle."
He said nothing more and turned to leave.
Some debts of gratitude are better kept in the heart than spoken aloud.
After Qin Feng left, a brief silence fell over the living room.
His aunt, Li Juan, came out of the kitchen. She looked at Wang Ming, her lips moving slightly.
"You gave him the money?"
"Yeah."
Wang Ming leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temples.
"Ah Ming, don’t you know our family’s situation? Lao Er’s Nutrient Liquid will run out next month, and the third one needs a new school uniform. Ten thousand! That’s more than a month’s worth of food for our whole family!"
Li Juan’s voice wasn’t loud, but it was filled with exhaustion and helplessness.
"That kid, Xiaofeng, he’s been sickly since he was little. He’s not cut out for martial arts. Isn’t this money just going down the drain?"
She had seen the transfer record, and the number on it stung her eyes.
Wang Ming looked up at his wife.
"Li Juan, he’s my sister’s only son. His dad treats me like a real brother. Back when I couldn’t find a job, he used his military connections to get me into the maintenance plant."
"I know, that’s not what I meant..."
Li Juan’s tone softened. "I just think we have to take care of our own family first. Your nephew, he’s a good kid at heart, but his body... Sigh. It’s not a worthy expense."
"We won’t know if it’s worth it until he tries."
Wang Ming stood up and walked to the window. "He calls me uncle. I have to at least give him something to hope for."
Li Juan watched her husband’s back for a moment, then turned and went back into the kitchen.
In the pot, cheap, synthetic rice porridge was steaming.
-----------------
Qin Feng returned home.
His father had already left for work.
He was all alone in the empty house.
He sat on the living room sofa and opened the contact card his uncle had sent.
[Name: Sun Chan Hall (Extreme Martial Arts Hall)]
He took a deep breath and sent a friend request.
[Request sent.]
While waiting, Qin Feng stood up and walked out onto the balcony.
The balcony was tiny, with just enough room for one person to turn around.
He assumed his stance, taking up the opening posture of the "Imperial Basic Body Refining Technique."
He had been practicing this Body Refining Technique since the first grade, for a full nine years.
Every movement, every detail, was etched into his very bones.
He slowly sank his waist, raised his arms, and executed a "Mountain-Splitting" motion.
His form was standard, flawless.
But only he knew that every time he practiced, the circulation of his Spiritual Energy was sluggish, like rusty gears being forced to turn. He was putting in twice the effort for half the results.
Qin Feng performed the entire "Imperial Basic Body Refining Technique," with all nine of its movements, from start to finish.
His form was standard and meticulous.
He continued until his vision went black and his whole body ached with exhaustion.
When an ordinary person trained to this point, they would simply need to replenish their nutrients and rest. After their body recovered, it would become tougher, and their vitality index would naturally rise.
To put it simply, cultivation consisted of three steps: damage, recovery, and improvement.
But because of his hidden ailment, Qin Feng’s recovery step was far, far too slow.
After finishing a set of the basic Body Refining Technique, Qin Feng lay down on his bed and fell into a deep sleep.