"You damn fatty..."

Cao Zhao slowly sat up and asked in a low voice.

"Do you still like her?"

"Tch—"

Fatty Fang scoffed, his eyes gazing up at the sky.

"Back then, I was still just a kid. What did I know about ’like’? Now, there’s only one thing on my mind... Military Merit!"

"What a coincidence."

Cao Zhao smiled.

"Me too."

With that, he stood up, his gaze falling upon the mountain of flesh on the ground.

"Come back to the Inner Hall for now. I’ll talk to the old man later... With your strength, you’re good enough for the Upper Courtyard."

The air suddenly fell silent.

Fatty Fang didn’t move or make a sound. After several breaths, a sentence rumbled from his throat.

"...Thanks."

"No need."

Cao Zhao waved his hand.

"If you’re going to thank someone, thank Chen Cheng. He’s the one who put in a good word for you. Otherwise, I couldn’t be bothered with you."

"Pah!"

Fatty Fang shot up, spat in Cao Zhao’s direction, and said irritably,

"The one I’m thanking is my brother Cheng! Who the hell do you think you are, Cao Zhao? You think you can get in line ahead of my brother Cheng?"

"...You damn fatty."

Cao Zhao stared at him, squeezing a curse through his teeth.

"You son of a bitch!"

"Heh..."

Fatty Fang grinned, then flopped back down, his thick belly rising and falling.

’Brother Cheng, I really owe you for this one...’

After resting a bit longer, Fatty Fang scrambled to his feet, stood up straight, and formally thanked Chen Cheng.

"Three years ago, I lost my head and beat Cao Zhao so badly he was bedridden for half a year. His old man personally applied pressure... I thought I was doomed to waste away and die in the Lower Courtyard for the rest of my life."

"Thank goodness the heavens let me meet you! Brother Cheng! This debt of gratitude... I really don’t know how I can ever repay you..."

"Offer him your body in return."

Cao Zhao winked from the side, a sleazy grin on his face.

"You fuc—"

Fatty Fang shot him a vicious glare. Just as he was about to curse, Cao Zhao raised his hand to stop him.

"I’m just kidding... Immortal Tower tonight, my treat..."

"I’m not going!"

Fatty Fang spat.

"Suit yourself."

Cao Zhao shrugged and said with a smile,

"Let’s call the old scores even. From now on, you walk your sunny road, and I’ll cross my single-plank bridge... But if we happen to bump into each other on that bridge, don’t think I’ll hesitate to kick you off!"

Fatty Fang stared at him for a moment, then suddenly broke into a grin.

"When that time comes, we’ll see who kicks who to death!"

Cao Zhao smiled too.

Neither of them said another word. It seemed the incident from three years ago had finally been put behind them.

Afterward, Cao Zhao found Zhu Mingyuan and had him arrange the follow-up matters for Fatty Fang.

Fatty Fang, in turn, gave all twenty or so taels of silver that the Li Family had received to Chen Cheng.

As for the ten taels of silver Chen Cheng owed him, he refused to take it back, no matter what.

"My dear brother, when you condensed the Three Pillars of Blood Qi, I received a reward from the Middle Courtyard. When you achieved Three A+ grades, I received another one. And now you’ve helped me return to the Inner Hall... If I were to make you pay me back, would I, Marquis Fang Wenhao, still be considered human?"

With him putting it like that, Chen Cheng didn’t insist any further.

Once everything was settled, the Cao Family’s carriage was already waiting outside the side gate of the Inner Hall.

Chen Cheng boarded the carriage with Cao Zhao, and it set off smoothly toward the Inner City.

...

The carriage traveled north along the main street of An Nan District. The sound of its wheels gradually deepened, as if they were rolling over a different kind of road surface.

Chen Cheng lifted a corner of the curtain. The towering city wall, like an iron curtain, was right before his eyes.

He had lived for sixteen years, but this was the first time he had ever been here, seeing this chasm-like barrier that lay between two worlds from such a close distance.

The city gates were wide open.

But all pedestrians and carriages entering or leaving had to stop briefly at the checkpoints on either side to have their Travel Permits inspected.

The Patrol Soldiers guarding the gate, clad in armor and holding spears, stood in formation, their gazes sweeping over the surroundings like sharp blades.

People came and went in a bustling stream, yet not a single one dared to cause trouble.

When it was the Cao Family carriage’s turn, the Patrol Soldier merely glanced inside, briefly recorded Chen Cheng’s name and origin, and then let them pass directly.

"There are only two ways to enter the Inner City," Cao Zhao explained casually. "One is to be guided by someone from the Inner City, and the other is to hold a Travel Permit issued by the Government Office or one of the Eight Great Families."

"The rules are a bit rigid, but the peace and stability of the Inner City are largely thanks to them."

"Indeed."

Chen Cheng nodded, saying no more.

The carriage passed through the gate.

In that instant, the light changed abruptly.

It didn’t just get brighter; it became completely different.

It was as if the carriage had burst through an invisible film, and they were suddenly enveloped in a different kind of air.

Chen Cheng looked up.

Before his eyes, the world had been turned upside down.

The streets were more than three times wider than those in An Nan District, paved with neat, straight, blue-gray stone bricks, with not a speck of mud in the cracks.

The storefronts on either side were bright and open, their signs mostly black with gold lettering, some even inlaid with copper borders. In the windows of a silk shop, whole bolts of brocade and satin were arranged in rows, their colors dazzlingly vibrant. The sound of string and bamboo instruments drifted down from the second floor of a tavern, mingled with the soft, floating laughter of women.

The air was filled with the fragrance of tea, pastries, cosmetics, wine, cooked food, and medicinal herbs... The only thing missing was the slightest hint of the stench from the Outer City.

The pedestrians on the street walked slowly.

There were young masters in silk shirts fanning themselves, and young wives holding their husbands’ arms, their long skirts dragging on the ground without fear of getting dirty. A few half-grown children ran past, chasing a leather ball. The ball was made of vermilion-tanned cowhide, and it bounced steadily and evenly on the stone slabs.

Cao Zhao leaned back against a soft cushion, casually telling Chen Cheng interesting tidbits about the Inner City. Occasionally, when they passed a well-established shop, he would offer an introduction, his tone as casual as if he were strolling through his own backyard.

Wu’s Weapon Shop, which could forge Treasure Soldiers. Shen’s Pharmacy, famous for its Five Dragon Soup. Wanbao Money Shop, with connections all over the world... and so on and so forth.

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