Chapter 37: Mustering Forces to Demand Justice
It was late at night—around the hour of the Rat.
After sending off Gu Junrong and the other two, Chen Ming returned to his room to read. On the red‑clay brazier beside him sat a pot of huangjiu (yellow wine), filling the whole room with its fragrant aroma.
As a modern man, he valued privacy. He didn’t need anyone to attend to him at night.
The two maidservants, Chunxiang and Xiaxiang, lived elsewhere, and in this courtyard, he was the only occupant.
Suddenly, the window slid open from the outside, and a woman’s voice floated in: “At last, I no longer have to fight in the alley.”
A dark silhouette flipped inside—it was Zhong Shuyu, clad in a full night‑attire.
Chen Ming seemed to have anticipated her arrival—two wine cups had already been prepared. He said calmly, “You could’ve just come in through the main gate.”
Zhong Shuyu argued with conviction, “We’re meeting in secret at night—how could we use the front gate?”
She confidently seated herself on the stool across from him, her eyes fixed on the pot of yellow wine.
She swallowed audibly. “Where did you get this wine?”
“It’s home‑brewed.”
Chen Ming picked up the pot, poured her a cup.
Zhong Shuyu drank it in one gulp. Her eyes lit up, and she praised, “Good wine.”¹
“Are you not afraid I put poison in it?”
“What would you poison me for?” Zhong Shuyu let out a light, teasing laugh. “If you wanted to kill me, you’d have done it long ago. If you wanted... other pleasures, you’d slip in some love potion—that’s marital delight.”
She had just drunk, and her eyes flashed with a hint of coquettishness.
Chen Ming had long known she wasn’t some proper noble lady, but hearing such bold and brazen words still caught him off guard.
Over the past ten months, Zhong Shuyu had come to train with him every few days.
After a while, he discerned the pattern—she came on Mondays, Thursdays, and Sundays, just like a weekly market visit.
They had sparred nearly a hundred times. Though they rarely spoke, they had become quite familiar.
This was the first time they’d sat down and chatted like this.
He said, “You have a weak tolerance for alcohol—after just one cup, you’re already speaking nonsense.”
Zhong Shuyu sighed and said, “I thought you were different from other men. Didn’t expect you’d be this dull.”
With that, she grabbed the wine jug and tilted her head back to drink.
Chen Ming sensed something unusual in her behavior tonight, but he tacitly refrained from asking.
During these ten months, he had never inquired about her matters.
She likewise never asked of his, preserving the pure bond of training partners.
This tacit understanding was precisely why their partnership endured so long.
Zhong Shuyu downed the entire pot of yellow wine in one breath. Wiping her lips, she stood and drew her sword. “Come on—today I absolutely intend to beat you.”
Chen Ming picked up the long saber resting nearby.
Together, they left the courtyard.
“Present your sword.”
They began to spar in the courtyard.
…
After thirty‑odd moves, Zhong Shuyu suddenly snapped, “No more.”
Chen Ming halted, looking at her in puzzlement.
She glared at him, furious. “Every time you hold back. Doesn’t it bother you?”
She had sparred with her two senior brothers before.
At first, they had been patient—but after a few bouts, they began to find excuses to avoid her. Even her own senior brothers were like that.
But this man—Chen Ming—came to spar with her every few days, never showing impatience. He would fight calmly with her for over fifty moves before finally achieving a narrow “victory.”
It was always like that.
His strength far surpassed hers—he didn’t need more than ten moves to beat her.
At first, Zhong Shuyu had come to him out of a twisted curiosity—to see just how long he would tolerate it.
One month passed, then three, then half a year...
He remained the same.
Unknowingly, she began to enjoy it.
Chen Ming’s encouraging gaze—his generosity, his acceptance—guided her, inspired her...
It was something she had never experienced in others.
“Why are you so good to me?”
When Zhong Shuyu said this, tears welled up in her eyes.
A giant question mark popped up in Chen Ming’s mind. We’re just training partners—what kind of nonsense are you imagining on your own?
Since she had already spoken so directly, Zhong Shuyu decided to go all in.
“I’m leaving… going to a faraway place. I don’t know when I’ll be back, or if I’ll even come back…”
Chen Ming thought for a moment and said, “Then I wish you a safe journey, miss.”
Seeing that he still didn’t get it and remained as dense as ever, Zhong Shuyu’s face flushed red with frustration.
She bit her lip, then finally summoned her courage and asked,
“Do… do you want me to go?”
Wait, you’re being serious?!
Chen Ming’s scalp tingled. He could only brace himself and reply, “Whether to go or not should be for the lady to decide yourself.”
A gust of wind blew past, carrying away the tear hanging from the corner of the young lady’s eye.
Clang—
A longsword fell to the ground as the girl turned and fled, covering her face.
Chen Ming watched her silhouette vanish into the night and sighed.
That was the second sword she had left behind here.
She must be really rich.
Then he recalled that the only ranked martial artist willing to spar with him had now fallen out with him.
He felt a twinge of regret.
——
Early the next morning, Chen Ming sat down to breakfast with his elder brother, sister-in-law, and their children.
His niece, Chen Lirong, was almost two years old and was still being fed some meat porridge by her wet nurse.
His nephew, Chen Lide, was a year older and sat very upright.
He now faced the delicious food on the table with a calm expression. But that sneaky gulping motion didn’t escape Chen Ming’s perception.
Clearly, the little guy was a born foodie.
Only after Chen Ming sat down did the others begin eating.
After breakfast, the two brothers went to the study.
Chen Rui spoke with some concern, “Ah Ming, I heard that yesterday Envoy Sun sent someone over. Did something unpleasant happen between you two?”
“Mm.”
“Was it because of the Martial Arts School Guild?”
Chen Ming felt a bit gratified—this showed that his elder brother was no longer as naive as he was a year ago.
At the very least, he now understood the family’s current crisis.
“So you already know, big brother. Don’t worry, I have my own way of handling it.”
Seeing that Chen Ming was confident, Chen Rui said no more. “That’s good.”
He trusted Ah Ming could take care of it.
Just then, someone ran in from outside in a panic. “Something’s wrong! A group claiming to be from the Martial Arts School Guild forced their way in. They said they’re here to confront Second Young Master!”
That was fast.
Chen Ming was a bit surprised. He turned to Chen Rui and said, “I’ll handle it. You go keep sister-in-law and the kids company.”
Chen Rui nodded.
He knew full well he couldn’t help with martial matters. So he went back to the rear courtyard to comfort his wife.
“Let’s go. Lead the way.”
Chen Ming strode toward the door, a surge of heroic spirit rising in his chest.
Over the past ten months, Chen Ming’s main source of experience came from the students he had taken in—now totaling twenty-eight people.
He also sparred with Zhong Shuyu from time to time.
Altogether, over the three hundred days, he had gained a total of 18,000 experience points.
Of these, 8,000 were allocated to the Three Suns Body Tempering, pushing his cultivation to the Eighth Grade.
Another 7,000 were used on the Swallow Returns Sword Technique.
He had more than 3,000 points left in reserve.
He had been lying low for nearly a year, developing steadily in secret.
Now, at last, he could openly challenge martial artists from other schools.