Becoming an immortal from a canal worker

In the afternoon, as the sun began to set, the sounds of the market drifted in through the half-open wooden window.

Zuixianlou is the largest restaurant in Qingkou Town. It is a three-story wooden building with green tiles and flying eaves, and it is very impressive.

In a private room on the second floor facing the street, the view was excellent. Through the window, one could see several merchant ships loading and unloading cargo under the scorching sun at the Huaihe River wharf in the distance.

The octagonal table in the private room was already laden with steaming hot food and wine.

The waiter had just served the last soup and left.

The table was filled with four dishes and a soup, all steaming hot. There was braised crucian carp with its skin fried until crispy, stir-fried pork liver with a bright red color, stir-fried mutton with scallions and a fragrant aroma of cumin, and in the center of the table was a bowl of milky white old duck soup with a few goji berries floating on top.

Hu Qian raised his white porcelain wine glass, his face flushed: "Young friend Chen, this meal is a special celebration for you! You did a great job in Luhua Village, I toast you!"

"It's my duty to do things for money." Chen Ping raised his glass to clink glasses, tilted his head back and drank it all in one gulp. The spicy liquor rolled down his throat, dispelling some of the chill.

The two picked up their chopsticks and ate a few bites of the hot dishes to fill their stomachs.

Chen Ping put down his chopsticks, his expression slightly serious. He leaned forward slightly and lowered his voice: "Manager Hu, there's something I need to tell you. Last night, when I was killing those two White Gang spies at the camp, I heard them mention something outside the thatched hut... 'Dragon Head Sacrifice'."

Hu Qian paused for a moment as he held the pig liver in his hand.

He narrowed his eyes slightly, slowly put the pig liver back into the bowl, and put down his chopsticks.

The atmosphere in the private room instantly became more tense.

"The White Gang wants to sabotage the Dragon Head Festival?" Hu Qian's voice was also very low.

Chen Ping nodded: "Judging from the tone of those two spies, the peasant uprising in Luhua Village was just a side move, but it was discovered before they could explain it in detail."

Hu Qian remained silent for a moment, then picked up his wine glass and drank it all in one gulp.

boom--

He slammed his glass down on the table and suddenly chuckled coldly, "This is a bit troublesome, but there's no need to worry too much."

He picked up the wine jug and filled his cup, turning his gaze to the Huai River outside the window: "The new rules of this 'Dragon Head Ceremony' are a compromise made by our incense master to avoid a full-scale war with the White Gang and the Great River Gang."

He turned his head, a ruthless glint in his eyes: "But if the White Gang is shameless and dares to cause trouble at the Dragon Head Festival... then we'll just fight them."

Hu Qian raised his glass to Chen Ping, saying, "The White Gang only has the strength of that old bastard Yan Hai to be considered respectable. If things really come to a head, even our sect leader won't need to lift a finger. Your master, Manager Li Yuan, could easily chop off Yan Hai's head with a single stroke!"

Chen Ping held his wine glass but didn't say anything.

But he remembered Li Yuan's words that he could kill a gang leader.

"Come on, let's drink and eat! If the sky falls, the tall ones will hold it up!" Hu Qian clearly didn't want to say more about this matter and raised his glass again.

The two had just clinked glasses and swallowed their drinks when the wooden door to the private room was pushed open without any ceremony.

A middle-aged man in a faded long gown with a somewhat sleazy appearance walked in with a grin, holding a silver skewer in his hand and picking at his two distinctive wide front teeth: "Hey, Manager Hu, eating? I can smell the meat from far away."

Yellow teeth.

When Hu Qian saw him, he wasn't displeased at all. Instead, he smiled and waved, "Manager Huang, what brings you to the market today? Come, come, sit down and eat with us! Waiter, bring us another set of chopsticks and a bowl!"

With yellow teeth, he pulled out a chair and sat down opposite Chen Ping. He casually picked up his chopsticks, grabbed a piece of pig liver, and threw it into his mouth, chewing it until his mouth was full of oil.

After swallowing the pig liver, he picked up the wine pot in front of Hu Qian, poured himself a cup, looked at Chen Ping, and put away his playful expression, saying seriously, "Young friend Chen, this cup of wine is for you. If it weren't for your help in saving Yang Sen this time, he would probably be dead."

Chen Ping clinked his cup against Yang Sen's and shook his head slightly: "Yang Sen gave me some pointers before, and I'm a person who clearly distinguishes between gratitude and resentment; I have to repay this favor."

Huang Ya finished his drink, smacked his lips, and slowly pulled a thin, yellowed booklet from his pocket, pushing it in front of Chen Ping.

"I have offended you in the past... I am giving this copy of 'Piercing Clouds' to my young friend Chen as an apology and to make friends."

Upon hearing this, Hu Qian, who was picking up food nearby, suddenly widened his eyes, slapped his thigh, and exclaimed, "Wow! Did the sun rise in the west today? Yellow Teeth, you notoriously stingy person, you're actually willing to pluck some feathers today?!"

He urged Chen Ping, "Quickly accept it! This movement technique is a valuable item!"

Yellow Teeth rolled his eyes: "Old Hu, the way you're talking makes it sound like I'm usually so stingy."

Chen Ping's gaze fell on the thin booklet.

He flipped through a few pages.

His current lack is precisely the kind of agility and quick reflexes that allow him to focus on short-range bursts of speed.

Without refusing, he tucked the booklet into his pocket and cupped his hands in thanks, saying, "Thank you for your generous gift, Steward Huang."

"Don't be so polite! We're all brothers! Let's drink!"

The three of them drank and chatted until the sun set before parting ways.

At the hour of You (5-7 PM), the sky gradually darkens.

Chen Ping returned to the courtyard, slightly tipsy.

The courtyard was quiet. Old Liu wasn't there; he must have gone to visit Gouwa at Li Wenxiu's.

He locked the courtyard gate behind his back, sat down at the stone table, and took out "Piercing Clouds" from his pocket.

The booklet was thin, with only a dozen or so pages, and the handwriting was neat, with a few hastily drawn human figures next to it.

Chen Ping read on, word by word, by the light of the moon.

The general principles are short:

"Clouds rise beneath your feet, leaping like lightning, three short and one long movements, leaning forward, pushing off with the balls of your feet, driving with your waist and hips, inhaling to gather strength, and exhaling to explode."

The latter half breaks down the key points of these thirty-two characters:

When exerting force, only use the front third of your foot to push off, and do not let your heel touch the ground. Use your waist and hips to drive your legs, and do not rely solely on your legs for power.

The key is the stride rhythm – three very short steps of "step, step, step" to build up momentum, and the fourth step is a long burst of speed, with the center of gravity always leaning forward, as if about to fall over at any moment.

Chen Ping turned to the last page, where there was a line of vermilion ink in the blank space:

"If this movement technique is mastered, the method of exerting force and breathing can be integrated into daily steps. Force can be exerted while walking, sitting, or lying down. Over time, the movement technique will naturally develop without the need for deliberate exertion."

He stared at the words for a long time.

It can exert force whether walking, sitting, or lying down.

In other words, when this movement technique is practiced to a high level, even walking becomes a form of training.

Chen Ping closed the booklet and stood up.

Following the formula I had memorized, I started trying it out.

The first few times went poorly. Either I leaned too far forward and almost fell, or I couldn't transfer the power from my waist and hips, so I couldn't pick up speed and landed heavily.

He ignored it and continued.

Once, five times, twenty times—

The moon rose high in the sky, illuminating the stone table in the courtyard until it appeared white.

His light blue shirt was soaked with sweat and clung to his back; steam rose from his head, but his steps became increasingly smooth.

The thirtieth time.

Chen Ping took a deep breath.

tread!tread!tread!

Three very faint, crisp sounds rang out, and the body leaned forward to a precarious angle.

Whoosh—Soar!

He exhaled a breath of turbid air, his figure blurred briefly in the moonlight, and appeared five steps away without making much of a sound, landing silently.

Two lines of text popped up in front of my retina:

Martial Arts: Cloud Piercing Leap (Beginner)

Current progress: Beginner 1/500

Before Chen Ping could see it clearly, another set of images popped up below:

[Skill: Walking (Beginner)]

[Effect: Steady gait, tireless travel]

Current progress: Beginner 1/500

Chen Ping stared at the two lines of text and stood there for a long time without moving.

"Two skills?"