Chapter 15: Ghost Market

Ping'an Square

Chen Mu sat next to the stove under a thatched shed.

On the ground beside the stove was a small furnace, on which sat a sand pot bubbling with hot steam. The rich scent of the medicine spread out.

He was simmering the Red Falcon Shape Cultivation Secret Medicine.

This secret medicine was quite valuable, costing one tael of silver per dose, which indeed made Chen Mu's heart ache.

Had it not been for the fact that his portrait business was relatively stable now, he wouldn't have dared to practice.

Once the secret medicine was ready, he poured it out to cool and Chen Mu drank it in one gulp.

After massaging his stomach a few times, he began to practice the Red Falcon Shape Cultivation Technique in the courtyard.

Chen Mu's figure darted back and forth, sprinting around the courtyard at a speed that ripped through the air, making his sleeves rustle loudly, comparable to a hundred-meter dash.

After running for a quarter of an hour, Chen Mu stopped and took a deep breath. His heaving chest quickly calmed down.

As his proficiency in the Red Falcon Shape Cultivation Technique increased, its effects began to show.

Chen Mu's overall physical qualities improved. His strength, speed, and endurance all increased to varying degrees.

After sprinting hard for a quarter of an hour, he recovered from his breathlessness rapidly and even had energy to spare.

"This speed, if it were in the Olympics in my previous life, wouldn't have won a single sprinting or long-distance championship!"

Writing: 1245/10000/Second Rank;

Drawing: 663/10000/Second Rank;

Throwing: 2465/10000/Second Rank;

Red Falcon Shape Cultivation Technique: 1050/10000/First Rank;

"Gained another 15 points of experience."

"It really is better with the secret medicine," Chen Mu sighed.

Over twenty some days of practice, each session with the full effort combined with secret medicine could yield between 8 to 15 points of experience.

The most experience was gained just after taking the medicine, and then it would decrease.

Since each practice session required his full effort, he could only practice six or seven times a day at most.

Any more would lead to unbearable soreness throughout his body. Probably reaching the limits of what his body could handle.

In this way, he could raise his proficiency by about fifty points a day.

"A breakthrough to Second Rank causes a qualitative change, which will likely lead to Muscle Transformation," he thought.

Sheng Hong told him that the Shape Cultivation Technique undergoes three transformations: Muscle Transformation, Bone Transformation, and Marrow Transformation.

Each transformation would significantly enhance physical fitness, breaking through the limits of ordinary people.

"Based on fifty points of experience a day, it will take about 179 days to achieve Muscle Transformation, which is about half a year," Chen Mu calculated silently.

"Half a year's practice to surpass most ordinary people isn't so bad. Hehe."

As for how long it would take to achieve the other two levels, he could not guarantee.

It was said to get increasingly difficult.

Luckily, he had the proficiency from the Grey Wall, so with diligence, success was always within reach.

Thinking this, Chen Mu felt suddenly at ease.

So, he continued to practice.

...

The morning passed quickly.

Chen Mu lit the fire to cook. He boiled some barley, stir-fried a green vegetable, sliced two jin of braised meat, and ate heartily.

With the passage of days practicing martial arts, his appetite had grown larger.

He needed meat at every meal, spending five to six taels of silver just on food in a month.

And that was not counting the Body Cultivation Secret Medicine. His total monthly expenses were at least thirty-five taels.

His predecessor had never even seen so much money!

"Thank goodness those old folks are rich," Chen Mu had given up any lavish hopes for the company of singer ladies.

He was prepared to stick to this way with the older clientele.

After dinner, donning a set of clean clothes, Chen Mu left for the county town.

He had an appointment today to paint a portrait for a certain Mr. Li.

Over the past few months, this business had become second nature to Chen Mu.

Upon arrival, he quickly got to work, and by evening, he returned home with a tip of over ten taels of silver.

He now had a client approximately every three or four days.

He could make about seventy to eighty taels a month.

Without this income, he wouldn't have dared to practice martial arts.

"Can't get too proud, though. This business won't last forever," Chen Mu was very clear-headed.

The ones who could offer silver for his portraits were the wealthy families in the city. There was a limit to their number.

"Must think of ways to increase income and reduce expenses."

He had no immediate ideas for increasing income.

But for reducing expenses, he had some clues.

The biggest expenditure was the secret medicine.

The costliest ingredient was a medicinal herb called Thousand Whisker Grass, which was half a tael of silver per plant.

The plant grows in the mountains outside the city, but it often flourishes in places rarely visited by people, making it difficult to collect.

In the village of his previous life, there seemed to be hunters who collected this herb.

"I must find time to visit my hometown," Chen Mu thought to himself.

...

In the evening, Master Yan slipped away from his two attendants and left Anle Square.

He took a familiar route to a modest stable in East Market.

He boarded a black-lacquered carriage and headed out of the city.

An hour later, the carriage entered a deserted village and stopped in a yard with a partially collapsed earthen wall.

As the last rays of sunlight vanished,

The desolate, quiet village came to life.

One after another, individuals cloaked in capes and veiled faces emerged from the dilapidated houses.

Lanterns hung on both sides of the streets, and mysteriously, numerous stalls had appeared along the way.

The merchandise for sale was bizarre and varied, ranging from antiques, herbs, tattered books, and unidentifiable animal meat to even an inky black human skull.

Master Yan dared not look too closely, wrapped his cloak tighter around him, and quickly slipped into an alley.

When he reemerged, the black cloth covering his face could not hide his pallor.

"Damn poor boy! Your life is really worth a fortune!" Master Yan lamented in pain.

"If that scholar makes connections with Miao Hua Workshop and the brothels, where does that leave my business?!" Master Yan gritted his teeth in hatred. More than one Singer had already inquired with him about Chen Mu's whereabouts.

On the journey back to the city by carriage, Master Yan leaned against the compartment to rest with his eyes closed.

"Having more money makes sense in its own way. At least it can get rid of that scholar without anyone being the wiser. No one would suspect it," Master Yan could only comfort himself this way.

Just a few more days, and the scholar would die in an accident, securing his safety completely.

"I've told you before, this line of work is treacherous, you really can't handle it," Master Yan sneered.

"Good advice is beyond the reach of the damned," he muttered.

"If the scholar is dead, so be it. I need to think of a way to bluff my way through with the boss from the east side of the district," Master Yan considered.

As he pondered how to deal with the suspicions of the Miao Hua Workshop's boss,

Suddenly, a cool breeze blew through.

Master Yan involuntarily opened his eyes and realized that for some unknown reason the carriage had stopped.

Just as he was about to ask what was happening, he discovered someone sitting opposite him.

Master Yan was suddenly startled.

With the chill breeze fluttering the carriage curtains, the moonlight penetrated the interior, illuminating half of the face of the person opposite him.

Master Yan immediately felt as if his heart skipped a beat.

"You... you are!"

Pff!

A flash of silver.

Master Yan suddenly felt a sharp pain in his heart, his body stiffened for a moment, then he began to shudder. Before long, he was completely lifeless.

The curtain flapped, the moonlight shone, and an indifferent face was revealed.

Looking closely, this face resembled seven or eight parts that of the prime suspect in the annihilation of the Wang family, whose head had been chopped off!

The figure just coldly watched Master Yan's face, frozen in fear and pallor.

The next moment, as a cool breeze blew, the figure vanished without a trace.

...

At the entrance to the County Government Office of Qingshan County,

Chen Mu had just stepped out of the office when he ran into Head Constable Lu.

"Young Master Chen, it's been a while," Head Constable Lu greeted with a smile.

"Head Constable Lu seems to be in better health," Chen Mu responded with a smile as well.

Last time, when they arrested the prime suspect in the Wang family's annihilation, Head Constable Lu had been injured and had taken some time to recover.

"All better now," Head Constable Lu said nonchalantly, waving his hand: "How is your Shape Cultivation Technique coming along, Young Master Chen?"

"Forget it, I'm just not cut out for it," Chen Mu said with a look of frustration.

Head Constable Lu's smile faltered; he had been counting on making some money from Chen Mu, and now he was giving up?

"If there's anything you don't understand, you can come to me," Head Constable Lu offered with sincere looking passion.

"Really!" Chen Mu's face lit up with surprised joy.

"Of course!" Head Constable Lu beamed with smiles. As long as he gets a taste of progress, he could always lure people to Sheng Hong.

Having spent quite a bit of money on recovering from his injuries recently, he was in need of some income.

"Ah, let's just forget it. Martial arts practice is just... too tiring..." After saying this, Chen Mu walked away with a look of embarrassment.

Head Constable Lu, who was about to continue persuading, was suddenly left standing in place, stunned.

Too tiring?

How am I supposed to convince you then?

Which martial arts practice isn't tiring!

He watched Chen Mu's retreating figure as if he was watching a big lump of long-legged silver slip away.

It's gone...