Chapter 31: Entrustment
After Hong Mingquan finished speaking, he brushed past Chen Ming and entered the ancestral hall to stand vigil, not giving him a chance to ask questions.
He could only suppress his doubts deep within.
After a while, the appointed time arrived.
Huo Qianqian, Zhao An, and the rest of the direct disciples carried the coffin out of the door, followed by a long line of guests, forming a procession to send Huo Chengkun on his final journey.
The funeral procession only stopped once it had exited the south city gate.
In the end, Chen Ming and the others watched as Huo Qianqian and the direct disciples, along with some registered disciples, carried the coffin until they disappeared at the end of the official road.
Huo Chengkun’s coffin was to be sent to a place called Xiaoshui, to be buried alongside his late wife.
Hong Mingquan was also in the funeral procession, yet he had just asked Chen Ming to find him later that night.
This was what Chen Ming found most puzzling.
There was another thing he noticed—Sun Shicai, the fourth disciple, was absent from the funeral procession.
Not even attending his own master’s funeral—this was hard to justify.
Once the funeral procession had departed far into the distance, the crowd began to disperse.
Some people started whispering among themselves, saying that now that the old master Huo had passed, the grand Huo Residence might just fall apart and fade into obscurity.
"Actually, given the strength of Master Huo’s disciples, if they were willing to unite as one, the Huo Residence’s influence would be no less than before. It’s just a pity…"
Clearly, many had already seen through it—Huo Chengkun’s disciples each harbored their own agendas.
"Hey, that fourth disciple of Master Huo—he’s clearly in the city, yet he didn’t even show up for his master’s funeral. Truly—"
"Master Li, be cautious with your words. That one is now a patrol envoy of the Six Doors."
"So what? Such unfilial conduct is disgraceful."
"……"
Chen Ming didn’t continue listening.
He left directly.
…
Deng Residence.
Deng Ziyang was drinking alone in frustration. When he saw Chen Ming enter, he said joyfully, "Senior Brother, you came at the right time. Come, have a few drinks with me."
Chen Ming sat down opposite him and remarked with a sigh, "I didn’t expect Master Huo’s death to hit you this hard, Brother Deng."
"Rubbish!"
Deng Ziyang slammed his cup on the table, face full of anger. "I’m just indignant. That day, the old bastard refused to take me as a disciple. I swore to myself, that one day, I’d trample all his disciples beneath my feet right in front of him!"
As he spoke, his expression grew more and more resentful. "But now the old bastard just went and died like that. Tell me—infuriating or not?"
Chen Ming refilled his empty cup and said, "Even though he’s dead, his disciples remain. He may not see it, but the whole city’s people will."
Deng Ziyang downed the cup in one gulp and said, "Heh, lucky him."
Chen Ming offered a few more words of comfort, and Deng Ziyang gradually came to terms with it.
"Actually, there’s something I’ve been wanting to ask your opinion on." He took the opportunity to change the subject. "I want to open a martial arts school specifically for introducing children to martial arts. Is there any trick to it?"
"Open a martial arts school?"
Deng Ziyang frowned. "Pardon my bluntness, but with your strength and character, if you were willing to marry the daughter of a wealthy merchant, you could easily obtain a more advanced cultivation method. Focus on training for ten years, and you might even reach Sixth Grade. That’s the straight road to success. Why bother with something as thankless as opening a martial arts school?"
Chen Ming naturally understood.
This kind of life plan was indeed a shortcut for someone of humble origins like him to transcend social class.
On Earth, many had taken that path—it was commonly known as becoming a “phoenix man.”
But really, if given a choice, who wanted to be a phoenix man?
He said, "Back then, I trained in martial arts at the Huo Residence for several years but never grasped the essence of it. I asked the instructors, but they ignored me. So I wasted years without learning anything. Only after leaving the Huo Residence and practicing repeatedly on my own did I gradually comprehend the key points…"
"I believe, there must be countless people like me in this world—slow-witted. So I want to open a martial arts school, so children like me won’t waste their time just because they run into a heartless instructor."
Listening to his words, Deng Ziyang’s expression turned a bit complicated. "You… why do you always act so foolishly? Always choosing these kinds of thankless endeavors."
He suddenly remembered something—Huo Chengkun once said that a martial artist needed a heart as pure as a child’s.
Perhaps, it was exactly because Chen Ming had such a sincere and innocent heart that his cultivation had progressed so rapidly.
Chen Ming said, "Brother Deng, please give me your guidance."
Deng Ziyang said, "Since you want to open a martial arts school, of course I won’t stop you. However, opening a school isn’t an easy matter—there’s a lot more to it than you’d think..."
…
……
When Chen Ming left the Deng residence, he was still digesting the information he had just received from Deng Ziyang.
"Good thing I thought to ask Deng Ziyang before opening the martial arts school, otherwise I would’ve brought trouble upon myself."
Ancient times were unlike Earth—aside from national law, there were also clan rules.
Likewise, every profession had its own trade rules.
In Qingfeng City, there was a Martial Arts School Guild, composed of twelve existing schools in the city.
They had established a trade rule—essentially an excuse to unite and block newcomers from entering the profession.
To open a new martial arts school, there were two ways.
The first was to get joint sponsorship from three established schools.
That was completely out of the question. Forget about him—even Deng Ziyang didn’t have that kind of clout.
The second option was to accept the guild’s challenge: win three consecutive duels, and one would qualify to open a martial arts school.
There was also a hard requirement—only martial artists of at least Eighth Grade could open a school and accept disciples.
Of course, if one was a powerful outsider, say a Sixth Grade expert, no one would dare utter a single word of objection.
"This is the martial world, huh?"
Chen Ming felt like he was finally brushing against a corner of the martial world. His heart stirred with anticipation.
But first, he would focus on advancing to Eighth Grade.
…
After nightfall, Chen Ming still went to the Huo Residence as promised.
When he knocked on the door, the doorkeeper who answered looked as if he had aged ten years.
Of all those affected by Huo Chengkun’s death, none suffered more than the household servants of the Huo Residence.
Chen Ming didn’t say he was looking for Hong Mingquan, only that he had left something behind and came back to retrieve it.
The doorkeeper didn’t suspect anything and let him in.
He went straight to the courtyard where Hong Mingquan lived.
"Fifth Senior Brother."
He called from outside the courtyard.
"Is that Uncle Chen?"
A somewhat youthful voice responded from inside. Soon after, a lantern was lifted from within the house by a boy of about eleven or twelve.
It was none other than Hong Mingquan’s son, Hong Zilin.
Chen Ming asked, "Zilin, is your father here?"
"Greetings, Uncle Chen."
Hong Zilin came to open the door and said, "My father isn’t here. He asked Uncle to come by—he has something to entrust to you. Please, come inside to talk."
Chen Ming wasn’t too surprised to see him acting like a little adult, with a maturity and calmness far beyond his age.
In this era, many children were precocious, especially those from poor families.
Among the kids who trained martial arts with him, several already behaved like little adults.
"Alright."
Chen Ming followed him into the house and saw that Hong Mingquan’s wife, Madam Li, was also inside. He quickly greeted her, "Greetings, Sister-in-law."
Although martial artists didn’t observe as many formalities, being in the same room late at night with someone’s wife and child was still inappropriate.
He asked, "Do you know why Senior Brother Hong asked me to come?"
Hong Zilin said, "Uncle Chen, this is a letter my father wrote. You’ll understand once you read it."
Chen Ming took the letter, opened it, and skimmed through it quickly.
Only then did he realize why Hong Mingquan had summoned him.
He wanted Chen Ming to help take care of his wife and son.
The letter said that he might be gone for ten days to half a month.
That female senior—no one knew whether she would return to the Huo Residence seeking vengeance. So he wished to entrust his wife and child to Chen Ming.
Chen Ming found it quite odd. His relationship with Hong Mingquan wasn’t close enough to entrust a wife and son, was it?
Perhaps Hong Mingquan was just clutching at straws.
Even though it was a bit troublesome, he really couldn’t refuse.
After all, what Hong Mingquan offered was just too generous.
He was offering the Five Elements Saber Technique as compensation.
This saber technique was far superior to the Eight Trigrams Saber Technique—it was Huo Chengkun’s signature saber art.
It was one of the things Chen Ming needed most.
The Eight Trigrams Saber Technique was still too shallow.
It only worked against underprivileged martial artists like Zhuang Xiaotian and Guan Peng.
Against disciples of prestigious families, it wouldn’t be effective.
Hong Zilin had already presented a thick martial arts manual with great respect and said, "This is what my father asked me to give to Uncle Chen."
Chen Ming accepted it, flipped through a few pages, then tucked it into his robe and said, "Will you come with me now, or should I come pick you up tomorrow?"
Hong Zilin replied decisively, "We’ll go now."
Soon, the mother and son packed their belongings and came out carrying their bundles.