From a tuberculosis patient to a martial arts master

The door to Guangchu Building closed behind me.

As Zhu Hongcai descended the bluestone steps, Lin Jizhi greeted him with a hearty laugh:

"Hey kid, how's it going?"

His eyes gleamed with smugness: "It's exactly as Master said!"

Zhu Hong's eyes still held a hint of surprise. The scene of the jade inkstone shimmering with light and containing the universe within a mustard seed was still vivid in his mind.

He nodded slightly, his tone initially tinged with genuine emotion, "Today has truly been an eye-opening experience. However," his fingertips unconsciously traced the brocade pouch inside his robe, then he changed the subject, asking with a hint of doubt:

"Brother Lin, isn't this mustard seed pouch exclusively for cultivators?"

"Special assignment?" Lin Jizhi scoffed upon hearing this, casually slapping a pillar on the corridor: "That's just layman's talk from the streets."

He curled his lip, his expression dismissive:

"Although most of those who refine these standardized mustard seed pouches are cultivators, do they not need resources for their cultivation? Do they really think that eating the morning mist and drinking dew can temper their soul? Ha!" He shook his head and laughed, "Cultivating the soul cultivates character, martial arts cultivates destiny; in the end, it's all cultivation. They need medicinal herbs to refine pills, ores to forge weapons, and even the caves for meditation and breathing exercises require money to purchase. Which of these can be separated from the word 'wealth'?"

"Since we can't live without each other, we'll naturally have to exchange what we have and what we don't have."

Zhu Hong suddenly realized, a self-deprecating smile flashing across his eyes: "I was indeed confused, I had forgotten the principle of 'wealth, law, companion, and land'."

Influenced by the shallow understanding of the original owner of this body, he subconsciously always imagined those cultivators who refined their souls as the white-browed old Taoist who could pluck the sun and moon and fly to immortality.

Unexpectedly, my fellow Daoist also needs the resources of his cave dwelling.

"Alright, you've learned a lot now, it's getting late."

Lin Jizhi glanced at the already high sun and said, "I'll take you to the cashier's office again, and that will finish today's task." With that, he turned around and led the way.

Upon hearing this, Zhu Hong quickly followed suit, replying, "Okay."

……

The "Bank Disbursement Office" and the "West Granary" shared a courtyard.

The process of withdrawing money was quick and extremely ordinary, quite different from the mysterious scene inside Guangchu Building; the only sounds were the light tapping of abacus beads and the turning of pages.

Verify the seal, check the amount, and sign and affix your seal.

Before long, a jingling wad of five taels of silver was pushed in front of Zhu Hong. "A hundred taels for a fine horse, a thousand taels for a beautiful woman." He picked it up, weighed it in his hand, and a smile involuntarily appeared on his lips.

"Of all the extravagance, money is the most real thing."

If you are short of money:

Even heroes are often short-tempered and disliked. How much less so those who cultivate martial arts?

Che Luan Dan Er.

After accepting the loose silver, Zhu Hong turned and headed towards the granary at the west end.

The granary was managed by an old granary official surnamed Sun, who was round, always smiling, and very kind.

After verifying his waist token, he summoned two servants in blue robes and instructed them to carefully measure out three bushels of the finest rice using an official measuring cup. The rice grains were bright white, plump, and glossy—truly the best rice he had ever tasted before.

In martial arts, cultivating life begins with refining the body.

The foundation of meat preparation lies in ensuring sufficient blood and qi.

The nourishment of qi and blood is never achieved by simply strengthening muscles and bones. It requires seven parts training and three parts nourishment. And the most basic and practical way to nourish is through the food we eat.

As stated in the book:

Grains nourish the body, and refined rice contains vital energy.

The brown rice that ordinary people eat has a coarse and hard husk and little essence. It can only fill the stomach and relieve hunger and cold. How can it nourish the blood and qi? Even the white rice that farmers eat is mostly not sifted clean and cannot compare to the fine rice in the official granary.

While I was pondering this.

The two servants worked quickly and efficiently, and had already divided the fine rice into two thick burlap sacks, which they stacked in a pile.

"Hey, that handsome young man."

The granary official, Sun Wang, called out to him and pointed with a smile to the two bags of rice: "Your share of rice, three shi of the finest japonica rice, has been packed properly, in two bags in total."

Zhu Hong snapped out of his daze and looked down at the two bulging rice bags on the ground. He bent down, picked up one bag in each hand, weighed it in his hands, and finding it to be quite heavy, he put it into his mustard seed pouch with a slight thought.

He then turned around and bowed to Old Clerk Sun:

"I apologize for disturbing you."

"Ah, you young folks are so well-mannered." Old Clerk Sun waved his hands repeatedly, his eyebrows and eyes crinkling with laughter, his wrinkles smoothing out.

"Remember, from now on, you'll come to collect it on the 15th of each month."

Zhu Hong nodded again, turned around and left the granary.

……

"Is everything ready?"

Lin Jizhi waited for a while, picking his teeth with a blade of grass to pass the time.

Seeing Zhu Hong's figure turn out, he flicked a blade of grass, straightened up, grinned, and said with a mocking tone, "If you hadn't come, I would have thought you were left in the granary by that old Sun to help count grains of rice!"

"I've certainly kept Brother Lin waiting."

Zhu Hong quickly stepped forward, apologetic smile plastered on his face: "Everything's taken care of."

"Just kidding, it's alright," Lin Jizhi waved his hand and smiled, "We're all in the same boat, no need to be so formal." He then glanced at the sky, saw the sun rising, and asked:

"Is there anything else you need me for?"

"Thank you, Brother Xie Lin. There's no need to trouble you further." Zhu Hong quickly cupped his hands, his expression earnest. "You've already gone to so much trouble today, how could I dare to bother you any more? Besides," he paused, revealing a sincere smile:

"I'm a free person, I have nothing else to do."

"Kid, you're quite polite and not clingy." Lin Jizhi raised an eyebrow and chuckled, "Alright, then I won't bother you anymore." He reached out and gave Lin Jizhi a light pat on the shoulder. "I still need to get back to work before 11 PM to clock in. If I'm late, the boss will definitely scold me for taking the opportunity to slack off."

After saying that, he waved his hand, took a few steps and turned into the shadows of the corridor, leaving only his back view.

……

"It's time to get things done."

Seeing that Lin Jizhi's figure had completely disappeared into the end of the corridor, Zhu Hong slowly turned around and walked out of the government office.

Stepping out of the tall, heavy doorway and onto Zhenchuan Street, the early winter wind whipped up a corner of a wine flag along the street and brushed against his shoulder. He raised his hand to tug at his robe, but then suddenly stopped.

Yes.

Zhu Hong looked down at his clothes, and a thought became clear to him:

Now that I'm a registered constable in the public service, how can I not go to that charity hall in this attire when I'm "doing business"?

"After all, you have to adapt your approach to the situation."

He curled his lips into a half-smile: "This time, we'll borrow Zhong Kui to fight the ghost."

Having made up his mind, Zhu Hong turned and headed towards his residence in Anping Lane.

He pushed open the door and pulled out the dark blue robe he had just received from the government office. He took off his everyday clothes and put it on; the wide sleeves and cinched waist fit him perfectly.

He then fastened the waist badge bearing the four characters "Jinyang Constable" to his waist, glanced at the worn bronze mirror in the corner of the room, and saw a man in the mirror who, though thin, possessed an air of unyielding discipline due to his official attire. He straightened his clothes, locked the door, and muttered:

"What a handsome young man."

After self-reflection, there was no further delay; the goal was:

Muddy Alley.

……