Apotheosis Begins with Tai Chi

Silence fell over the scene.

The younger members of the various families, all of an age to have accepted the challenge, hung their heads. None of them dared to meet Chen Cheng’s gaze.

The expressions on the faces of the family elders, however, were far more complex. There was surprise, admiration, appraisal, and calculation—and above all, a shared frustration with their own juniors for failing to measure up.

After a long silence.

No one spoke up.

"It seems today’s victor has been decided! Come! Bring the prize up for Brother Chen of my Jiuan Hunting Manor!"

Wang Peng waved a hand, his voice as hearty as ever. He had, however, smoothly changed his customary address from "Little Brother Chen" to "Brother Chen."

As everyone watched, two graceful, beautiful serving maids approached, each holding a tray.

On the tray sat a black-glazed wine jug, its mouth sealed with a red cloth. It looked solid and heavy, and must have contained five jin of the Golden Ring Treasure Snake Medicinal Wine.

The two women stopped before Chen Cheng and gave a slight curtsy, their smiles radiant. A coquettish charm spilled from the corners of their eyes, clinging to Chen Cheng—soft, sweet, and sticky, like spun honey.

Many of the male guests exchanged knowing smiles.

The Tiger Slaying Banquet had an unwritten rule: in addition to the prize, the victor was also offered a pair of beauties.

If Chen Cheng so desired, he wouldn’t even need to speak. A single glance would be enough to take both women with him.

"Thank you, Manor Master."

Chen Cheng’s gaze remained fixed forward. He simply took the wine jug, turned, and walked back to his seat.

The two women couldn’t hide their disappointment. With heads lowered, they quietly withdrew.

However, this only earned him more appreciative looks from many in the crowd, who admired his self-discipline.

Chen Cheng had barely taken his seat.

Cao Zhao and several finely dressed young men from his table walked over.

Originally, only two of them had wanted to meet Chen Cheng, but now five had come.

Cao Zhao made the introductions.

These five were all prominent young talents from the Inner City. They were either from extraordinary families—wealthy, noble, or both—or possessed formidable Martial Arts skills and planned to participate in next year’s Martial Selection in Zhao City.

Three of them were there merely to make his acquaintance. After some pleasantries, they arranged to host a banquet for him in the Inner City at a later date. Their attitude was polite, yet it carried the unique reserve of those from a higher station.

The other two, however, had come with the intention of recruiting him.

"Junior Brother Chen, this is Pang Wanhe, eldest son of the Seventh Branch of the Pang Family, one of the Inner City’s Eight Great Races."

Cao Zhao gestured to the young man on his left—a man with sharp brows, bright eyes, and a ramrod-straight posture—and said seriously,

"Brother Pang has already reached the Peak of Seven Pillars of Blood Qi. He is certain to make the Golden List in next year’s Martial Selection and earn Military Merit!"

Cao Zhao then gestured to a young man on his right, who was dressed in a moon-white long robe and a brown fur cloak.

"And this is the Heir of the Shen Family—their future Clan Leader—Shen Qian. Brother Shen is only a few years older than us, but his businesses are already flourishing. He’s nothing short of a commercial prodigy!"

"Brother Pang. Brother Shen."

Chen Cheng cupped his fist in greeting, his gaze lingering on Shen Qian for a moment longer.

"No need for formalities."

Pang Wanhe said with a hearty laugh.

"Younger Brother Chen, your performance just now was truly stunning. On behalf of the Seventh Branch of the Pang Family, I’d like to offer you a stipend of no less than three hundred taels of silver per month. But I have one condition..."

Pang Wanhe paused.

"The sponsorship will be for a minimum of one year. During that time, you would have to live in the courtyard of my Pang Family’s Seventh Branch, spend at least one hour a day training my younger cousins in their fist techniques, and..."

Hearing this, Chen Cheng’s brow furrowed slightly.

’Three hundred taels a month is certainly tempting, but I’ll never agree to conditions that bind me so tightly and restrict my freedom. The question is, how do I refuse politely without offending Pang Wanhe?’

"Brother Pang!"

Noticing Chen Cheng’s expression, Cao Zhao quickly stepped in to smooth things over.

"My Junior Brother Chen is extremely diligent in his daily cultivation, to the point of self-torture. Forget an hour a day—he can’t even spare a single moment. Don’t make things difficult for him."

"Oh?"

Pang Wanhe was taken aback for a second, but his admiration for Chen Cheng only deepened.

"Younger Brother Chen is truly a rare talent. A pity. These are the best terms I can offer on my own... To go any higher, I’d have to go back and discuss it with my father. Perhaps we can speak again in the future?"

"Of course. We can speak again in the future."

Chen Cheng cupped his hands, then shot Cao Zhao a grateful look for the intervention.

"Chen Cheng."

Shen Qian spoke up, his voice low and serious.

"I’ve heard about you for some time, but I never expected you to progress so astonishingly fast. For you to remain with the Third Branch is truly a waste of your talents!"

"If you’re willing to come over to the Main Branch of the Shen Family, I can offer you one hundred taels of silver a month, plus two doses of Five Dragon Soup. Any Tributor privileges you have with the Third Branch will be honored by my side as well!"

"Thank you for the generous offer, Brother Shen."

Chen Cheng maintained a polite smile, his tone calm as he replied.

"As the saying goes, a man is nothing without his word. I have a prior agreement with the Third Branch. The term has not yet expired, so I cannot, and will not, abandon them."

As soon as he said this, Cao Zhao, Pang Wanhe, and the other young men couldn’t help but see Chen Cheng in an even better light.

He kept his word and valued his commitments; he was a man of loyalty and integrity.

Easy words to say, but not so easy to live by...

Especially when faced with such a generous offer from Shen Qian. Not just anyone could turn it down without so much as batting an eye.

Cao Zhao and Pang Wanhe exchanged a look, a silent understanding passing between them. They both came to the same conclusion: this Chen Cheng was someone absolutely worth befriending—perhaps even forging a deep connection with.

"Chen Cheng, do you really think you understand the Third Branch’s true situation?"

Shen Qian’s gaze sharpened, and his voice took on a confidential, almost intimate, tone.

"At the end-of-year contest for the Trade Document, the only fighter the Third Branch has is that Old Man Wen, Wen Yu. His Martial Arts started declining twenty years ago. He’s just collecting a pension from the Yongsheng Store. Do you really think he can win?"

"Once they lose the Trade Document, their trade routes will be severed, and the Yongsheng Store will be completely finished. The Third Branch’s meager savings won’t last them two months..."

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