Becoming a Saint Starting with the Chasing Wind Leg Technique

Chapter 99 Everyone is envious of the four who enter the sect

The outer city of Tianshui, the southern wharf belonging to the Zhou family.

Lin Hou'er's thin body was almost buried in a pile of smelly fishing nets as he gritted his teeth and tried to drag the wet, heavy nets ashore.

Sweat, seawater, and grime mixed together, making him look like a little monkey just pulled out of a mud puddle.

His younger sister, Lin Xiaochun, a little girl who was also pale and thin and whose clothes were covered in patches, was struggling to pull the other end of the net rope for him, her little face turning red.

"Monkey! Little Chan!"

A shout, trembling with immense excitement, came from afar. Fatty Chen, panting heavily and with a flushed face but frighteningly bright eyes, rushed towards the brother and sister, nearly tripping over the cable beneath his feet.

"Fatty, Fatty? What happened to you? Did you get beaten up? Or did you find some money?" Lin Hou'er was startled, loosened the fishing net, and looked at him warily.

"No, no!" Fatty Chen gasped for breath, grabbing Lin Hou'er's shoulder, his voice cracking with excitement. "Brother Jing! It's Brother Jing! Brother Jing is back! He... he told us—he told us to go to the martial arts school! Zhuifeng Martial Arts School! We can all go to the martial arts school now! And Xiao Chan too! And Brother Song Yi too! Let's go together! Right now!"

Lin Hou'er and Lin Xiaochun were both stunned, staring blankly at Fatty Chen, as if he wasn't speaking human language.

"Fatty—what did you say?" Lin Hou'er picked at his ears, wondering if he had been blown silly by the sea breeze. "Go to the martial arts school? Chasing Wind Martial Arts School? Us? And, and Xiao Chan?" His sister was only a teenager, as thin as a bean sprout.

"Yes! It's the Chasing Wind Martial Arts School! Brother Jing said it himself! He told us to go right now! No assessment required! The school will provide food and lodging, and teach us martial arts, all for free!" Fatty Chen spoke rapidly, his spittle almost landing on Lin Hou'er's face.

"No, no assessment? Food and lodging provided? And martial arts instruction?" Lin Hou'er murmured repeatedly, his thin body trembling. He suddenly raised his hand and pinched his arm hard.

"Ouch—!" He winced in pain.

Not a dream!

He reached out and pinched Lin Xiaochun's equally dazed face.

"Ouch!" Lin Xiaochun cried out in pain, covering her face. Her big eyes quickly filled with tears, but even more so with a sense of bewilderment and—unbelievable hope.

"Really? Fatty, you're not lying to us?" Lin Hou'er's voice trembled.

"I'd be a dog if I lied to you! Hurry up! Pack your things! No, no need to pack! Let's go! Let's find Brother Song Yi first!" Fatty Chen was impatient. He grabbed Lin Hou'er with one hand and tried to grab Lin Xiaochun with the other, but then he felt his hands were dirty, so he wiped them hard on his clothes before carefully holding the little girl's thin wrist.

Like puppets on strings, the brother and sister were pulled along by Fatty Chen, stumbling and falling as they left the stinking dock, their minds still blank.

Joining a martial arts school? For these impoverished people struggling to make ends meet, it was an unattainable dream!

It's a place where you have to sell everything you own, even your daughters, just to have a sliver of hope! And now, it's just like that—it's done?

In Xicheng, in Liutiao Lane, in front of a low, dilapidated mud-brick house.

Song Yizheng, his back hunched, was laboriously chopping up wet wood he had collected in the courtyard with a rusty wood-chopping knife.

He was nearly forty, and years of hard work and malnutrition made him look much older than his actual age, with deep wrinkles etched on his forehead. Hearing hurried footsteps and shouts, he looked up in confusion.

"Brother Song Yi!" Chen Pangzi and the other two rushed in.

"Fatty? Monkey? Xiao Chan? What are you all doing here—" Song Yi put down his wood-chopping knife and wiped his sweat.

After Fatty Chen rambled on and on about Song Jing's words, Song Yi froze on the spot. His calloused and cracked hands clenched and unclenched unconsciously, his eyes filled with a complex mix of shock, confusion, and bitterness, which ultimately coalesced into an indescribable sorrow and—a faint, almost extinguished flame.

"Xiao Jing—he—" Song Yi's voice was hoarse. He knew that his younger brother had gone to the martial arts school and made something of himself, but he never expected that he would make such a success. He also never expected that after his brother "made something of himself," the first thing he would think of was helping his relatives and friends who were struggling in the mud.

"A martial arts school—I went there once when I was young, paid three months' tuition, and learned some farming skills—" Song Yi murmured to himself, as if lost in memories, then shook his head with a bitter smile, "Later, my mother fell ill, and I had no money, so I left—I never thought that at my age, I could still—"

He took a deep breath, and a glimmer of light returned to his cloudy eyes: "Let's go! Since it's—since it was Xiao Jing who arranged it, let's go! Don't embarrass him!"

He didn't even ask if the martial arts school would accept an "old bone" like him; he had an almost blind trust in Song Jing's arrangements.

An hour later, in front of the imposing black lacquered gate of the Chasing Wind Martial Arts School.

Chen Pangzi, Lin Houer, Lin Xiaochun, and Song Yi were wearing clothes they had just hastily bought with the money Song Jing had given them.

Although they were the cheapest coarse cloth clothes, they were washed and clean, and stood together nervously.

Looking at the "Chasing Wind Martial Arts School" plaque hanging high above, at the two majestic stone lions at the entrance, and at the spirited and agile disciples entering and leaving the martial arts school, they felt unsure of what to do with their hands and feet, and their hearts were about to jump out of their throats.

A crowd of onlookers gradually gathered around. They curiously observed the four people: a kind and sturdy young man with a sallow complexion, a thin and wary boy, a little girl timidly clutching her brother's clothes, and a middle-aged man with a weathered face who looked like he had been a laborer.

This combination seems completely out of place with the renowned Chasing Wind Martial Arts School.

"Who are they? What are they doing standing in front of the martial arts gym?"

"Judging from their attire, they look like laborers or refugees from the South City Wharf area?"

"Could it be that you want to become an apprentice? Is the martial arts school recruiting new members today? I haven't heard anything about it."

"Them? Martial arts school entrance exams are so difficult, do you think they can pass?"

The buzzing of voices made Chen Pangzi and his companions even more nervous, and they lowered their heads even further.

Just then, the two heavy doors of the martial arts school were slowly pushed open from the inside.

A figure slowly walked out from inside the door.

Clad in a simple blue robe, with an upright posture, a calm face, and clear, resolute eyes, he was none other than Song Jing.

"Brother Jing!" Fatty Chen couldn't help but exclaim softly, as if he had found his pillar of support.

Song Jing gave the four a gentle smile and nodded. Then, his gaze swept over the growing crowd around him, and he spoke loudly, his voice clearly reaching everyone's ears: "Chen Shi, Lin Hou, Lin Xiaochun, and Song Yi. From this day forward, you are formal disciples of my Chasing Wind Martial Arts School. You will enjoy the same resources as inner disciples, and the school will arrange instructors to carefully teach you martial arts."

As soon as he finished speaking, two middle-aged men who looked like managers walked out of the martial arts school. They bowed respectfully to Song Jing and then said to Chen Pangzi and his three companions, "Four junior brothers/sisters/brothers, please come with us to complete the entry procedures, receive your clothing and tokens, and be arranged for accommodation."

Chen Pangzi and his three companions were stunned, even forgetting to react.

It was only after Song Jing nodded to them again that they seemed to wake from a dream, amidst countless expressions of shock, envy, and...

Under the incredulous gazes of others, feeling as if they were walking on clouds, they followed the steward dizzily into the tall gate that they had never dared to approach before.

Only after their figures disappeared inside the gate did the crowd of onlookers erupt in a commotion!

"My God! What did I just hear? Formal disciples? Inner disciple resources?"

"No assessment required? Direct entry? And all-inclusive?"

"How old is that little girl? She can already go to a martial arts school to learn martial arts?"

"That middle-aged man—does the martial arts school accept people this old?"

"Who are they? Why are they getting this treatment?!"

"It was that young man who arranged it! Who is he? He's got some serious influence!"

"You don't recognize him? Song Jing! The one who defeated Senior Brother Li Wei a couple of days ago and even relinquished the position of sect leader!"

"So it was him! No wonder! His words must carry weight at the martial arts gym now!"

"My God—these guys are incredibly lucky! They've risen to the top overnight!"

"I'm so envious! Why don't I have brothers and friends like that!"

Envy, jealousy, amazement, disbelief—all sorts of emotions spread among the crowd.

For these ordinary people, entering the Chasing Wind Martial Arts School, receiving its protection and martial arts instruction, is almost the only way to change their fate.

Now, watching four people from the very bottom of society cross that insurmountable barrier so easily, how could one not be filled with excitement?