Martial Arts: My talent multiplier increased

Core Disciple Token.

Fang Yuan was perfectly clear about the significance of this item within the Fang family. Anyone who held this token enjoyed the same resource allocation, access to the Martial Arts Pavilion, and elixir quota as the direct descendants of the main family. Historically, no more than five members of collateral branches had ever held this token.

Fang Zhengkun reached out and picked up the brocade bag, weighed it in his hand, and handed it to Fang Yuan.

"One hundred taels of silver, an extra reward for the top scorer in the assessment."

Fang Yuan took it with both hands; it felt heavy and substantial.

One hundred taels.

When those three words hit Fang Yuan's head, his heart skipped a beat, but his face remained expressionless.

Adding the fifty-two taels in the wooden box, the total is one hundred and fifty-two taels.

The unlocking fee for the system's level 2 enhancement is one hundred taels of silver.

enough.

More than enough.

Fang Zhengkun picked up the boxing manual again, flipped through it, and handed it over.

"The Layered Wave Fist is a high-grade Yellow Rank martial art. Created by the Fang family ancestor, the fist techniques are layered, with each wave higher than the last, and it is designed specifically for those with abundant Qi and blood. With your foundation, practicing this method will be twice as effective with half the effort."

Fang Yuan took the boxing manual and ran his fingertips along the cover of the book. It was old but sturdy, and every page was well preserved.

Finally, Fang Zhengkun picked up the black iron token, but instead of handing it over directly, he held it between his fingers and looked at Fang Yuan.

"This token represents the status of a core member. The holder enjoys the right to reside in a first-class courtyard, a monthly quota of three bowls of Qi and Blood Soup, year-round access to the Martial Arts Pavilion, and—"

Fang Zhengkun paused for a moment.

"—The priority allocation of all core resources of the Fang family."

He handed over the token.

Fang Yuan stood up and accepted the token with both hands.

The black iron felt cool to the touch, not heavy, but surprisingly heavy. It didn't feel like a piece of iron; it felt like a door that had just been pushed open.

"Furthermore," Fang Zhengkun leaned back in his chair, his voice not loud, but clearly audible to everyone in the hall, "from today onwards, you and your family will move into the Grade A courtyard. The household affairs office has already made arrangements, and you can move in today."

Fang Yuan gripped the token and bowed respectfully.

"Thank you, Patriarch, and thank you, elders."

No superfluous words, no lengthy expressions of gratitude. Just eight simple words, clean and concise.

Fang Zhengkun's gaze lingered on him for two more breaths, and the corner of his mouth moved almost imperceptibly.

Fang Shoude nodded slightly beside him. He didn't like talkative young people, and Fang Yuan's attitude suited his temperament perfectly.

Fang Shouye showed no expression, but his hand holding the teacup steadied a little more—he never expressed his approval of a young man verbally.

Fang Shou'an remained seated in the chair on the far right, twirling his teacup twice, a gentle smile playing on his lips.

But he rubbed the pad of his thumb against the side of the teacup three times.

When Fang Yuan walked out of the main hall, it was already quite dark.

He tucked the brocade pouch into his bosom, clipped the boxing manual to his waist, and held the token in his palm.

Three things were pressed against the body, each carrying warmth.

Stepping out of the inner courtyard through the archway, I could see two figures standing under the porch in the front yard.

Fang Lin and Meng Wan.

The two had been waiting there for an unknown amount of time. Fang Lin wore a faded coarse cloth shirt, his hands hanging at his sides, his fingers constantly fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. Meng Wan stood beside him, a few drops of water on the bluestone slab beneath her feet, whether from tea or something else, it was unclear.

As Fang Yuan approached, Fang Lin's gaze first fell on the tattered training clothes he was wearing, then swept over the bruises on his left shoulder, and finally settled on his face.

Fang Yuan took out a brocade pouch from his pocket and opened it in front of Fang Lin.

The moment the bag was opened, the dazzling silver light illuminated Fang Lin's face.

"One hundred taels of silver." Fang Yuan handed the brocade bag to his father.

Fang Lin's hands trembled. He looked down at the neatly stacked silver ingots and loose silver in the bag, opened his mouth twice, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down, but he couldn't utter a single word for a long time.

Meng Wan leaned over for a look, and two lines of tears immediately fell down her cheeks.

She didn't know what to say, she just reached out and gripped Fang Yuan's arm tightly, her nails digging into the fabric, her whole body trembling.

Fang Yuan then took out the boxing manual from his waist, raised his right hand, and revealed the black iron token.

"A top-grade Yellow Rank cultivation technique, a core disciple token. From now on, our family will move to a first-class courtyard, and we'll have a monthly quota of three bowls of Qi and Blood Soup."

Fang Lin's hand, which was gripping the brocade bag, froze completely.

He looked up into his son's eyes, an expression Fang Yuan had never seen on his father's face before—not happiness, not excitement, but the bewilderment of a river that had been blocked for too long suddenly bursting its banks.

Fang Lin opened his mouth, his lips twitched twice, and a turbid tear rolled down from the corner of his eye, falling onto the red rope of the brocade pouch.

He wanted to speak, to say something, but his throat felt like it was being squeezed.

This man, who had spent most of his life growing vegetables, had lived in a remote corner of a side branch for over a decade, never imagining that his son would one day stand here, holding the token of a core member of the family.

Meng Wan was crying so hard she couldn't speak. She let go of Fang Yuan's arm, turned around and threw herself into Fang Lin's arms. The two of them stood in the dimly lit corridor, their shoulders rising and falling.

Fang Yuan stood two steps away, not moving closer.

As he watched his parents' backs receding, a surge of warmth welled up in his chest, a feeling of soreness but not discomfort.

After a while, Fang Lin wiped his face, sniffed, and his voice still had a nasal tone.

"Yuan'er, does your shoulder... hurt?"

Fang Yuan twitched the corner of his mouth: "It doesn't hurt."

Fang Lin wanted to say something, but swallowed it back and just nodded vigorously, several times.

The move was faster than Fang Yuan had imagined.

Four servants from the household affairs office arrived quickly and efficiently. There wasn't much stuff in Fang Yuan's secluded little courtyard, and they finished moving it in two trips.

The Grade A courtyard is located on the east side of the Fang family's inner courtyard, and it is at least three times larger than the old courtyard.

There are three main rooms and two side rooms. The courtyard is paved with smooth bluestone slabs, and an old locust tree grows in the corner. Behind the main rooms is a small, square courtyard covered with fine sand, which serves as a small training ground.

Fang Ying was the first to rush into the courtyard.

The little girl ran very fast, her short legs pushing off the ground alternately, the hem of her cotton-padded coat billowing in the wind. She ran a whole lap around the yard, stopped under the old locust tree, looked up at the canopy, then looked down at the bluestone slabs under her feet, and then turned around and waved at Fang Yuan.

"Brother! This yard is so big! The trees are so tall! The ground is so slippery!"

Fang Yuan stood at the gate of the courtyard, watching his younger sister frolic in the yard.

Meng Wan was busy making the bed and changing the old bedding she had brought from the old courtyard, muttering that she was going to the market to buy new ones. Fang Lin squatted in the corner of the courtyard, touching the soil at the base of the wall, subconsciously wondering if he could plant something here.

A person who has spent half their life growing vegetables will still check the soil as the first thing they do when they arrive in a new place.

Fang Yuan didn't disturb them and turned to go into his room.

The room is more than twice the size of the one in the old courtyard. It has a large wooden bed, a desk, a chair, and the window faces east, so it will be able to receive the first rays of sunlight tomorrow morning.

He closed the door.

Fang Yuan walked to the desk, took out the brocade pouch from his arms, untied the red string, and poured the silver onto the table.

Silver ingots and broken silver rolled and tumbled, covering most of the tabletop, gleaming a soft, cool white in the light of the oil lamp.

One hundred taels.

In addition, there were fifty-two taels saved up in the wooden box.

One hundred and fifty-two taels of silver.

Fang Yuan sat down at the table, his gaze sweeping over the pile of silver coins, and his breathing involuntarily deepened.

He spread out his right hand.

A cold light rose from the palm of his hand, and a semi-transparent system panel slowly unfolded before his eyes.