Becoming an immortal from a canal worker

The next morning at dawn, the morning mist had not yet dissipated.

Chen Ping was awakened by the pain in his back.

That was a lingering effect of hitting the old locust tree last night.

He gritted his teeth and climbed up from the straw mat, stretching his stiff spine. A crisp "crack" was heard, followed by an indescribable soreness.

To Chen Ping’s surprise, although his back was burning with pain, he was in surprisingly good spirits, with a warm feeling emanating from his limbs.

The hard work of the past two months was not in vain. The skill he gained over time made him physically stronger than the average canal worker.

After drinking a bowl of leftover cold water from last night, Chen Ping pushed open the door and stepped out, disappearing into the slightly damp and chilly morning mist.

As I walked along the dirt road I'd walked countless times toward the dock, the surroundings gradually changed from quiet to noisy.

As soon as Chen Ping reached the stone pier at the entrance of the dock, he saw that familiar figure.

Old Liu was squatting there, holding a pipe and puffing away.

The old man had gray hair, was missing two front teeth, revealing a mouthful of yellow teeth, and his face was full of wrinkles when he smiled.

"Uncle Liu." Chen Ping paused slightly and nodded.

Old Liu squinted, his gaze sweeping over Chen Ping's slightly swollen shoulder. A glint of shrewdness flashed in his cloudy eyes before he reverted to his usual carefree demeanor.

"It's good that young people are energetic, but don't ruin your health." Old Liu tapped his pipe, lowered his voice, and gestured meaningfully toward the riverbank. "Take it easy. The atmosphere at the dock is off today. Someone has to fill the hole left by a dead man."

Chen Ping's heart stirred, recalling the rumors he had heard about Old Zhao last night. He replied in a low voice, "Thank you for the advice, Uncle Liu," and then turned and walked towards the cargo ship without saying anything more.

As the sun rose higher, the humid heat on the dock almost solidified.

Chen Ping was shirtless, his shirt already shiny with sweat, which poured out like a torrent.

But he didn't stop, and bag after bag of polished rice was delivered into the cabin.

"Four hundred and ninety-eight..."

"Four hundred and ninety-nine..."

Chen Ping silently counted the number of steps, each one firm and solid.

After last night's introductory training with the "Back of the Mountain" technique, he found that his control over the spinal dragon had improved significantly.

What was originally just a simple way to deflect force has now become a vague understanding of how to use the muscles in his back to absorb that heavy pressure.

The moment the fiftieth bag of polished rice landed on his shoulder, Chen Ping felt a jolt run through his body.

An unprecedented surge of heat, not from the muscles, but seemingly bursting forth from the depths of the bone marrow, instantly coursed through the limbs and bones.

The grain sacks, which were originally as heavy as mountains, seemed to lighten by 30% in that instant.

The feeling was like lubricating a rusty gear, making you feel refreshed from the inside out.

A pale blue light screen quietly appeared in front of the retina.

[Skill: Transporting (Master)]

[Moving Proficiency +1]

[Current Progress: Moving (1/1000)]

[Effects: Power flows throughout the body, the spine becomes like a dragon, qi and blood surge, strength penetrates to the extremities, and one remains tireless in prolonged combat.]

Breakthrough!

Chen Ping paused for a moment, then immediately resumed his normal pace and continued walking briskly towards the cabin.

But he could clearly feel that with each breath, his heartbeat became stronger, and each pump of blood brought a surge of heat.

Especially the spine, when it is straight, has a faint but powerful elasticity like a tightly taut bow.

"The spine is like a dragon..."

Chen Ping silently recited this sentence in his heart, unloaded the grain bag, and after only two breaths, his breathing returned to normal.

Just as he was about to turn around and carry a bag to enjoy the thrill of the increased strength, a sudden burst of noisy shouts pierced the hustle and bustle of the dock.

"Give me a shoulder rest! All of you, give me a damn shoulder rest!"

Chen Ping's eyes narrowed, and he immediately stopped in his tracks.

Several overseers dressed in short blue jackets roughly parted the crowd, cracking their whips, and escorted a burly middle-aged man over.

The man had a face full of scars, with a hideous knife scar on his left cheek. His eyes were as cold and sinister as a venomous snake. He was the chief steward in charge of the canal transport in this area, and was known as "Ghost Hand Zhang".

The once bustling dock instantly fell silent.

All the canal workers quickly unloaded the goods on their shoulders and hung their heads, not daring to breathe.

The phrase "rest" carries immense weight at the docks. Unless something major happens, the foreman will not allow these money-making animals to stop.

Chen Ping mingled in the crowd, slightly lowering his head and observing the situation out of the corner of his eye.

Ghost Hand Zhang's gaze swept across the crowd, as if he were picking out livestock at a market.

"Old Zhao is dead, you all know that," Ghost Hand Zhang's voice wasn't loud, but it carried a chilling aura. "But the canal transport can't stop, the shipping schedule can't be delayed, and ship number seven needs to keep watch tonight, we're short a watchman."

These words immediately caused a stir among the crowd.

Ship number seven! It was the very ship where Old Zhao had his accident.

Old Zhao was on guard duty there last night, and this morning his body was found downstream with his eyes gouged out. What's the difference between going on guard duty at this time and sending someone to their death?

Everyone instinctively shrank back, and Chen Ping was no exception. Although he had just broken through, he didn't want to be the first to stick his neck out at this time.

However, what you fear most is what happens.

Ghost Hand Zhang sneered, his gaze sweeping over the evasive old hands before finally settling on Chen Ping.

Chen Ping's heart skipped a beat; the sense of danger of being targeted by a venomous snake made his muscles tense instantly.

"you."

Ghost Hand Zhang raised the tip of his whip and pointed precisely at Chen Ping, "That new guy, the one who's pretty tall."

The surrounding crowd scattered in a flash, leaving Chen Ping all alone.

There's no escaping it now.

Chen Ping took a deep breath, slowly raised his head, and met Ghost Hand Zhang's cold gaze.

"What's your name?" Ghost Hand Zhang looked Chen Ping up and down, a hint of satisfaction flashing in his eyes.

This young man has a strong physique and plenty of energy; he's perfect for warding off disaster.

"Reporting to the steward, Chen Ping," Chen Ping said calmly, neither humble nor arrogant.

"You're the one," Ghost Hand Zhang said without room for argument. "You'll be guarding Ship Number Seven tonight. If you get through tonight, you'll get 100 coins plus two catties of fatty meat."

A collective gasp rippled through the crowd.

One hundred coins was equivalent to three or four days' wages for an ordinary canal worker.

But those present only felt sympathy, not envy.

You have to be alive to receive money, but you also need to be alive to spend it.

Chen Ping remained silent for a moment.

He knew perfectly well that he couldn't refuse.

On this dock, the words of these managers are law.

The consequences of refusing would probably be worse than encountering demons; having your legs broken and being thrown out would be the least of your worries.

Moreover, feeling the power surging within him after breaking through to the [Transportation] mastery level, he felt more confident.

"I...accept it." Chen Ping clasped his hands in a fist and replied in a low voice.

Ghost Hand Zhang narrowed his eyes, then a cold smile curled at the corner of his mouth: "He's got guts. Get on the ship at 7 PM tonight, don't mess things up."

After saying that, he didn't waste any more words and turned to leave with his men, which slightly eased the oppressive atmosphere on the dock.

The surrounding canal workers looked at Chen Ping with complicated expressions.

There was schadenfreude, pity, and indifference as if looking at a dead person. Afterwards, everyone dispersed to get back to work, afraid of getting tainted by bad luck.

Just as Chen Ping was about to turn around, a rough, large hand patted his shoulder.

It's Old Liu.

The old man sighed: "One hundred coins, money to buy my life... Kid, be smart tonight."

He looked around, and when no one was looking, he quickly stuffed something into Chen Ping's arms, lowering his voice to say, "I got this from a wandering Taoist priest a few years ago. It may not work, but it'll keep you as a keepsake."

"Remember, no matter what you hear or see at night, don't turn around or make a sound until you're on the deck!"

After saying that, Liu Laoguo didn't wait for Chen Ping to thank him. He puffed on his pipe and disappeared into the crowd.

Chen Ping reached into his robes and touched a cold, hard object.

It was an object made from the tooth of some unknown wild animal, with a few blurry characters engraved on it, and it smelled of tobacco and sweat.

He gripped the beast tooth tightly, raised his head, and looked at the No. 7 boat moored in the shadows on the river.

The setting sun had not yet completely disappeared, but the ship seemed to be shrouded in an impenetrable gray fog, exuding a chilling aura.

Chen Ping's gaze gradually hardened.

"One hundred coins..."

Chen Ping was silently calculating in his mind.

He touched the empty purse in his arms, which contained only thirty-odd copper coins that he had saved up over the past two months.

It's still a long way off if you want to save up ten taels of silver to buy a doghouse in Anping Ward of Shanyang City.

But that's just how the world is.

If you want to risk your life to make money, first, you need a belt that's tight enough.

Chen Ping didn't think any further, but simply tightened the worn-out hemp rope around his waist with a blank expression.

He was not in a hurry to board the ship.

When the gong signaled the end of the workday, he went to the accounting office as usual to collect his thirty coins for the day's work, and then turned and went to the market.

This time, he didn't go to that dirty stall selling pork belly.

He spent all thirty coins, not keeping a single one, and bought them all at the most expensive braised meat shop.

"Cut half a pound of braised beef, with tendons, and also get two steamed buns."

Beef was a rare commodity at this dock, and this meal cost him all of his hard-earned money for the entire day.

Chen Ping found a sheltered corner and began to chew heartily.

The well-braised beef is firm and chewy, and every bite is bursting with flavor. The rich, meaty texture is far superior to that of lymph node meat.

The meat entered his stomach, turning into a surge of heat that quickly filled his parched stomach and nourished his body.

As night fell and the river was completely shrouded in darkness, the distant sound of the watchman striking the gong to signal the hour of Xu (7-9 PM) could be heard.

"Thump—! Thump—!"

Chen Ping swallowed the last bite of the biscuit, patted the crumbs off his hands, and stood up.

At this moment, his complexion was ruddy, his eyes were sharp, and his energy and spirit were at their peak.

He strode steadily toward the pitch-black No. 7 ship.