But with Tie Qingyang having laid it all out, he understood that pursuing a High Tier Martial Skill right now wasn’t just unrealistic—it was asking for trouble.
Besides, he couldn’t let Situ Bai know about this, or it would be tantamount to betraying his master.
Still, Low Tier Martial Skills had their advantages.
The tasks were easier, and the risks of Cultivation were lower...
This would allow him to steadily accumulate attribute points and save a great deal of Cultivation time.
Tie Qingyang opened the two iron caskets one by one.
Inside lay five neatly arranged, thread-bound manuals. Their pages were yellowed, clearly showing their age.
These were all Martial Skills he had collected over the years.
"There are five in total. Three are Fist Techniques, one is a Leg Technique, and one is a staff technique. Of the three Fist Techniques, two follow a hard and overpowering style, while one focuses on using softness to overcome hardness. Each has its own emphasis."
Wan Ze picked up the manuals and quickly skimmed their core principles.
With his current level of insight, he quickly identified the strengths and weaknesses of these Martial Skills.
The aggressive techniques were brittle, while the defensive one lacked explosive power. In other words, they each had their limitations; their ceilings were low.
But for him, none of that mattered.
All he cared about was the tangible increase in Attributes on his status panel that came with mastering a new Martial Skill.
"I’ll take all five. Name your price, brother," Wan Ze said decisively, putting down the manuals.
He then reached for his wallet.
Tie Qingyang quickly waved his hands, feigning anger. "Hey! What are you doing, little brother? Slapping me in the face! These are just common, dime-a-dozen manuals; how much could they possibly be worth? Between you and me, do we really need to keep score? Put it away, put it away!"
Five Low Level Martial Skills were dirt cheap.
Given the friendship between him and Wan Ze, there was no need for such formalities.
Wan Ze chuckled, speechless. He stopped insisting and said thoughtfully, "When I was coming in, I couldn’t help but overhear your call. It sounds like you’re in some trouble. If there’s anything I can do to help, just say the word."
Tie Qingyang’s expression faltered for a moment. Seeing the sincerity in Wan Ze’s eyes, he felt a warmth in his heart and smiled candidly. "I appreciate the offer, little brother. Thank you. But as for this matter... I don’t plan on troubling you with it for the time being."
Wan Ze gave him a surprised look.
Tie Qingyang smiled frankly, his words tinged with the rugged pride of a man from the streets. "Before I met you, little brother, I was still Tie Qingyang, the man who made a name for himself as Master Tie in An City with nothing but his own two fists. I can’t just become some spineless wimp who depends on others for everything now that I know someone like you, can I? Haha! Little brother, let’s be honest. The moment I really can’t handle something on my own, I promise you’ll be the first person I call for help!"
At this, Wan Ze just shook his head and smiled. He didn’t press the issue and rose to take his leave.
After seeing Wan Ze out, Tie Feiyang hurried back upstairs, a complex, unreadable expression on his face.
He leaned close to Tie Qingyang and lowered his voice. "Dad, just now... did you let Brother Wan overhear your phone call on purpose?"
"Bullshit!" Tie Qingyang’s eyes bulged, his voice suddenly jumping an octave. "Am I that kind of person?!"
Tie Feiyang didn’t dare talk back, just shrinking his neck with a sheepish grin.
’Isn’t everyone out there saying you’re a cunning old fox?’ he grumbled to himself.
But he only dared to let that thought rot in his gut.
Tie Qingyang couldn’t be bothered to argue the point. He waved a hand, his brow furrowed. "Enough idle chatter. Get some men over to the Entertainment Center. Do some recon, find out who’s behind this. And tell Zhang Song to keep a low profile. Have him hide the merchandise securely. Be careful. A lot of eyes are on us right now."
"Right, I’m on it," Tie Feiyang replied, but he didn’t move. He tried to hold his tongue, but failed. "Dad, are we really not going to ask Brother Wan for help? With a small thing like this, if Brother Wan were willing to step in, it’d be over in a flash..."
Before he could finish, Tie Qingyang’s left shoe came whistling through the air, kicked right off his foot.
"Get out!!"
Tie Feiyang dodged it with a sidestep, an aggrieved look on his face. "I was just asking! Look at you, flying off the handle again!"
"What’s there to ask! You want to use a dragon-slaying blade to kill a chicken? Do you think we run a slaughterhouse here?" Tie Qingyang stood there on one bare foot, so angry his mustache was practically quivering. "You dare give me another one of your bright ideas, and I’ll throw the other shoe right in your face!"
Tie Feiyang nodded again and again, shuffling meekly toward the door.
Just as his hand touched the doorknob, a furious shout came from behind him:
"Halt! My shoe! Pick it up and bring it back here!"
"...Oh."
Tie Feiyang obediently turned back, bent over to retrieve the shoe, and presented it to Tie Qingyang with both hands.
Tie Qingyang took it and slowly slipped it on. Only then did he glance up at Tie Feiyang, his tone softening. But seeing his son’s expression, he let out an exasperated laugh. "What, you still don’t get it?"
Tie Feiyang hung his head, admitting honestly, "...I guess I don’t really understand."
Tie Qingyang shot him a glare, disappointed that his son wasn’t sharper. "If you can’t figure it out, then get lost! Don’t you come back to see me until you do!"
Tie Feiyang opened his mouth, but the words wouldn’t come out.
’Does that mean I’ll never get to see you again in this lifetime?’
’Ah, forget it.’
"Dad, please take care of yourself."
"???"
For a moment, Tie Qingyang didn’t know how to react.
By the time he snapped out of it, the little brat had already bolted out the door, faster than a startled rabbit.
"That... That little bastard!" Tie Qingyang pointed at the door, not knowing whether to laugh or curse. In the end, he slammed his hand on the table and let out a huff.
But after his outburst, the room fell silent. He leaned back in his chair, staring at the empty seat Wan Ze had just occupied, and said nothing for a long time.
’He’s my son, after all.’
’Some things only need to be hinted at.’
’I, Tie Qingyang, have been around for decades. It’s not like I haven’t seen my share of trouble.’
’It’s just that at my age, making a true friend isn’t easy.’
’That kid, Wan Ze, he values relationships. I know that.’
’And it’s precisely because I know that, that I’m so reluctant to use him as a hired blade.’
’This bond of friendship... it wears thinner each time you call upon it.’
’When a problem comes along that even a blade can’t solve, then of course I’ll ask for help.’
’But this little squall right now...’
Tie Qingyang finished putting on his shoe and stood up. He pushed open the window, and the night wind rushed in, carrying the cool air of early autumn.
He squinted, his gaze fixed on the faint lights of the Entertainment Center in the distance. His face was a mask of cold resolve.
’He had gone legit, it was true.’
’But going legit didn’t mean he’d gotten too old to fight!’
’Did those people really think he’d lost his teeth?’
...
...
「By the time Wan Ze returned to the martial arts hall from the teahouse, dusk had not yet fully given way to night.」
Wan Ze lined up the five iron caskets on the floor of the training hall. He had already decided on the Cultivation order on his way back.
「Three hours later.」
In that time, he had raised five Martial Skills from uninitiated to the Basic level.
He hadn’t even eaten dinner, completely immersed in his Cultivation.
The other students in the martial arts hall had long since trickled out. Sun Fan and Zhou Xianchuan had said their goodbyes and departed.
He was the only one left in the training hall.
Under the bright lights, his shadow danced on the wall as he practiced the moves over and over again.
The shadow rose and fell. There were no flashy movements, only endless repetition.
「10:00 PM.」
In his mind’s eye, the progress bar for the final Fist Technique silently crossed the threshold.
Intermediate!
Almost simultaneously, a series of numbers updated under his personal Attributes.
In total, the five Martial Skills had brought him—
[Physical Strength +0.05]
[Power +0.05]
[Endurance +0.05]
[Agility +0.01]
[Coordination +0.01]
...
Wan Ze closed his eyes, clearly feeling the qi and blood surging within him. A vigorous, new power was erupting from deep within his bones and sinews.
He opened his eyes and looked down at his palm.
Under the light, his knuckles looked well-defined, no different than they had three hours ago.
But he knew something was different.
The further he progressed.
Every tiny improvement was a fundamental transformation.
"This is the right path," he murmured.
Without getting up, he remained seated cross-legged, quietly savoring the new, vigorous power coursing through his body.
Strictly speaking, the total Attribute bonuses gained from five Low Tier Martial Skills were indeed less than what a single High Tier Martial Skill could provide.
But Wan Ze knew this path wasn’t paved with overnight miracles.
’A mountain is built from handfuls of earth; an ocean is formed from drops of water.’
Even with the panel, it only allowed him to catch up a little bit faster than everyone else.
For now, this was the most suitable path for him. It was absolutely one worth following!
"Attributes, keep ’em coming!!!!"