From a tuberculosis patient to a martial arts master

Zhu Hong stood in the corner, chewing on the pancakes he had just bought, his gaze calm.

What do you mean by "young master"?

Simplicity is the right approach.

Those who win get a government job and live off the government. Those who lose can only blame themselves and keep going.

That's fair.

At least no one died.

Amidst the buzzing discussion, a sudden commotion arose at the back of the crowd.

"Make way! Make way, everyone!"

"Are you all blind? What are you doing blocking the way?"

Everyone turned around and saw a gray-clad servant struggling to clear a path for those behind him.

"Why are you pushing?"

One of the men, who was being pushed and became increasingly agitated, couldn't help but mutter, "Are they rushing to be reincarnated?"

"What did you say?!"

The servant immediately glared, put his hands on his hips, and cursed:

"Let me tell you, this is Young Master Jiang from Zhenyuan Martial Arts School. Are you sure you can afford to take responsibility for blocking our way?"

Following behind him was the only son of the Zhenyuan Martial Arts School's master:

Jiang Chengzhi.

The young man, dressed in brocade, had an air of pride between his brows. He appeared to be about seventeen or eighteen years old, and a short sword inlaid with jade hung at his waist.

There was another person following closely behind. Zhu Hong frowned when he saw him; that person was Zhao Biao.

"What a coincidence?"

He shook his head: "It really is a never-ending trouble."

As for the man who had been grumbling earlier, his voice immediately quieted down when he heard that they were from Zhenyuan Martial Arts School.

Although they are all from different walks of life, the disciples of the martial arts school are different from these self-taught individuals. They have a proper master and receive medicinal baths to strengthen their muscles and bones. It is a proper "martial arts student" training class, so they are naturally not to be trifled with.

This group of people pushed and shoved their way to the front of the line.

As Zhao Biao passed by Zhu Hong, his rough gaze swept over him casually before suddenly freezing, his face instantly filled with astonishment.

"Zhu Hong?!"

His voice was loud and clear, and his shout drew the attention of many people around him. "What are you doing here!"

Zhu Hong swallowed the last bite of the pancake, patted the crumbs off his hands, looked up at him, and said in a flat tone, "Exactly, as you can see."

"You said you're here to participate in the selection process?"

Zhao Biao's brows furrowed instantly.

"I don't have time to be a spectator." Zhu Hong glanced at him casually and said, "What, are you planning to change careers as an instructor? Coming here to play around. No, wait," he paused, as if suddenly recalling something from the past, and slowly added:

"I'd forgotten you'd also participated in this selection process, it's just a pity..." A faint hint of mockery flashed in his eyes:

"I didn't get over it."

Zhao Biao's most sensitive spot was hit, and the veins on his forehead bulged instantly: "How dare you!" His eyes flashed, and he leaned forward.

"Don't think that just because you've joined the ranks of martial arts performers, you can spout nonsense at will. Don't forget," he paused, his tone revealing a murderous intent:

"You're nothing but a dog that wags its tail and begs for food in our Zhao family."

"The contract is still in effect."

The crushing defeat five years ago was a thorn in his side, one that he would not tolerate any explanation from anyone. When he first entered the world of martial arts, he was full of high spirits, thinking that he would surely be able to make a name for himself. However, he was swept off his feet after just one appearance on stage, and missed his chance to enter the officialdom.

According to the example:

You have to wait three years to apply again.

But time waits for no one, and by the time his term was up, he had already passed the age of thirty-five.

"Yeah?"

Zhu Hong looked up to meet his gaze, his eyes cold but showing no fear: "Then I hope you'll stay." He grinned.

"The authorities will handle the case then, saving us trouble."

"Sharp-tongued," Zhao Biao said through gritted teeth, his face ashen, "Once we're inside, the real deal will be revealed! Then..." He paused, then let out a cold snort:

"Let's see if your mouth can still be so stubborn."

At this moment, Jiang Chengzhi turned his head, a hint of annoyance in his eyes, as if his emotions had been disturbed: "Uncle Zhao, what's all this commotion?"

He frowned:

"But is someone dissatisfied with something?"

After saying that, he glanced contemptuously at Zhu Hong, the 'protagonist' he had already identified in his mind.

"It's nothing serious," Zhao Biao said, his arrogance subsiding.

"Just an ignorant peasant."

"Is that so?" Jiang Chengzhi raised an eyebrow and looked at Zhu Hong again.

Seeing that the other person, instead of being frightened or ingratiating, looked back at him under his gaze?

He was furious!

"Hey, what's your name?"

Jiang Chengzhi slightly raised his chin and said to Zhu Hong, "You've come to see this young master, don't you know how to greet him?"

Zhu Hong raised his eyes slightly, glancing sideways at Jiang Chengzhi's arrogant demeanor. He let out a low "tsk" before turning his head back to the gate of the examination hall, sparing no extra glance.

What a bunch of pampered rich kids!

Wisdom teeth, huh? What kind of idiot crawled out of some nook and cranny and bites anyone it sees?

This thoroughly enraged Jiang Chengzhi.

In this small corner of the city, who would dare to disrespect him?

"Okay, very good."

Jiang Chengzhi laughed coldly, his pride replaced by a sinister glint: "You've got guts. I hope this backbone will help you get through the first two trials." He paused, then said, word by word:

"In the 'real combat exercise,' I will personally request from you, sir, to give you a chance..."

"Let me personally see you off!"

Upon hearing this, Zhu Hong turned his head and uttered two words: "Too talkative."

"you……"

Jiang Chengzhi clenched his fist instantly, his knuckles turning white, as if he were about to engage in improper conduct.

"Thump—"

A heavy clapper sounded, making people's eardrums vibrate.

It's 9:00 AM!

The two vermilion gates of the examination hall creaked open, and the soldiers standing on both sides of the corridor exuded an even more menacing aura than those outside the gates.

A dark-faced, bearded constable led the six constables out.

The constable was a burly man with broad shoulders and a thick waist. His dark-colored official uniform was taut, and a broad-shouldered sword hung at his waist. When he stood in front of the door, he was like a black iron tower. His gaze swept across the entire area like that of a hawk, carrying the imposing aura of a trained warrior.

The six constables followed closely behind, each with their own distinct appearance.

One of them was Wang Zhenshan. He glanced around and spotted Zhu Hong. He nodded slightly as a greeting.

"Those who want to change their fate, get in here!"

At this moment, Liu Dutou's voice resounded like a great bell.

"Those who just want to watch the show, and those who are just pretending, will be dealt with with a beating!"

He emphasized the last sentence, and with a swift motion, he drew his broadsword, its blade flashing a cold light in the thin winter sun. This startled several onlookers in the back of the crowd, who hurriedly shrank back.

"Captain Liu, you're scaring me again."

Before the glint of the blades had completely faded, a dignified voice came slowly from behind the vermilion gate.

"It's...it's Magistrate Shen!"

"Lord Shen!"

Upon seeing the newcomer, the crowd erupted in a clamor, raising their voices in unison.

Jinyang City was governed by a prefecture, with the Prefect and his assistants being the Assistant Prefect and the Sub-Prefect. Although the Sub-Prefect was an assistant official, he held real power over grain transport, police supervision, and water conservancy, and was also the presiding official of today's "selection of military officers".

In previous years, he usually didn't show up; he only managed the roster.

today:

Unexpectedly, he showed up in person.

"Shen Tongpan".

Upon seeing this, Liu Kui quickly composed himself and bowed respectfully.

The six constables bowed in unison.

"Your subordinate greets Magistrate Shen!"