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"Jun'er!!" Song Zhenguo shouted, his face filled with panic as he rushed forward to hold her tightly. "What's wrong with you? What happened!? Tell me—what's going on?"
Jun'er rested weakly in his arms, a helpless smile appearing on her pale face.4Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡroRtCMRfAd
"Brother Song... I... I..."
Standing nearby, Lu Sheng silently watched the scene unfold. Deep down, he had suspected that Jun'er—and perhaps the other women on that ship—were not truly human. But he hadn’t expected his instincts to be right.
The women aboard that ghostly vessel... they were likely long-dead souls, tethered to the ship by some strange, dark power. Their beauty was merely a lure, serving some unknown purpose.
Without disturbing them, Lu Sheng quietly stepped away. He moved to an open space nearby, watching over the unconscious Chen Jiaorong as he began circulating his inner breath to recover.
With every completed cycle of the Black Tiger Jade Crane Art, Lu Sheng could feel a faint tingling sensation in his injuries—clear signs that his muscles and bones were beginning to mend.
About the time it takes for a stick of incense to burn, Song Zhenguo returned. His eyes were red, and Jun'er was gone.
"Let's go. We're heading back..." he said in a low, raspy voice. His tone was heavy, hoarse with sorrow.
Lu Sheng understood. Jun’er must have been connected to the ghost ship—the Red House. Now that the ship had perished, she too had vanished with it. Song Zhenguo had likely come to that same grim realization.
Saying nothing, the two of them hoisted Chen Jiaorong onto their backs and began the journey toward Yanshan City. The road was silent. Neither spoke, each lost in thought.
It wasn’t until they were near the city gates that Song Zhenguo finally broke the silence.
"Brother Lu... can I also learn martial arts from you?" His voice trembled, and his eyes pleaded with desperation. Grief clung to his words—Jun’er’s death had carved a deep wound in him.
Lu Sheng stopped walking. He looked at Song Zhenguo for a long moment, then let out a soft sigh.
"There must be a powerful force backing Jun'er. Otherwise, the Yanshan City authorities would never have allowed the Red House Ghost Ship to operate unchecked on the river," Song Zhenguo said, shaking his head with a bitter smile. "To be honest, they rarely harmed anyone during ordinary times. Perhaps that was their hidden tactic—only acting when necessary."
He let out a heavy breath, eyes clouded with pain.4Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡLLYXrhrKav
"I know what you're thinking. Jun'er's death was caused by that white-robed female ghost. Brother Lu has already taken care of her, so it’s over now. I just... I just hope such a tragedy doesn’t happen again."
Lu Sheng looked at him and saw the sorrow etched deep into his eyes—an exhaustion that came not just from grief, but helplessness.
"You have to understand," he said slowly, "in this world, ordinary martial arts can be bought with money. But unique martial arts—those passed down or created—aren’t shared so freely."
Song Zhenguo’s gaze hardened, filled with determination.4Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡaWbWK0qk6g
"Then what must I do for Brother Lu to teach me? Do I need to become your disciple? That’s not a problem!"
"No... there’s no need to rush," Lu Sheng replied, his tone steady. "I’m not even sure whether you have the right foundation to begin martial training. I need to test you first."
In truth, Lu Sheng was still a fledgling martial artist himself. He didn’t have any formal method to test someone's potential. At best, he could let Song Zhenguo try and observe the results.
Passing on unique martial arts wasn’t something to be taken lightly. It was an unwritten rule among martial practitioners, and Lu Sheng had no intention of breaking it.
The truth was, most unique martial arts were forged through years of dedication—painstaking research, relentless experimentation, and often at great personal cost. Many creators had sacrificed their health, some even suffering permanent injury or disability, just to perfect a single technique.
Why would anyone hand over such hard-earned knowledge to an outsider without cause?
It was no different from asking a self-made tycoon to hand over his life’s fortune to a stranger. Would that ever be possible?
This was the reality behind so-called “family martial arts.” If not passed on to outsiders, they were naturally preserved and inherited within the family line.
Lu Sheng had heard of martial arts being casually passed down to others. Usually, this happened when the techniques were too common—easy to acquire and therefore not truly valued.
But he didn’t worry about that sort of thing.
Thanks to the modifier, no one could match his cultivation speed. Even if others practiced the same martial arts as him, he would reach the peak far faster—perhaps countless times faster—than any ordinary practitioner.
What he did worry about, however, was exposure. If others discovered that his martial arts came from deducing and refining various styles through mysterious means, it would certainly draw unwanted attention.
That didn’t align with his quiet plan to grow stronger in the shadows and accumulate power without notice.
"Let’s test your potential first. After that, I’ll consider teaching you martial arts," Lu Sheng said, deciding to observe Song Zhenguo’s aptitude before making any promises. If he did show real talent, Lu Sheng was willing to teach him some foundational techniques.
"Alright!" Song Zhenguo responded immediately. He understood the necessity of a test—after all, even in fantasy novels, disciples had to pass trials before learning any real skills.
With that settled, the two of them brought the unconscious Chen Jiaorong into the city. As they approached the gate, the owner of a nearby clothing store spotted them and immediately rushed off—likely to inform Chen’s family.
Lu Sheng, knowing his current appearance was far from suitable for public attention, asked Song Zhenguo to take Chen Jiaorong back to the Chen residence to explain everything.
He, on the other hand, slipped away quietly and made his way home.
As he walked through the streets, he noticed people staring at him with strange, curious eyes. Children even ran behind him, pointing and giggling as if watching a spectacle.
Lu Sheng had no choice but to quicken his pace. When he finally reached his doorstep, he patted his body and froze.
His keys and money pouch had both been burned in the earlier chaos.
"Damn... this is a real loss... All the banknotes were in there..." Lu Sheng stood stunned, a sinking feeling forming in his gut.
Knock, knock, knock.
With no other choice, he raised his hand and knocked on the door.
"I’m coming!" Xiaoqiao’s quick footsteps echoed from inside. "Who is it?"
"It’s me," Lu Sheng replied. "I dropped my key. Open the door, Xiaoqiao."
As soon as she recognized his voice, Xiaoqiao rushed to open the door. It creaked open slowly, revealing her small, cheerful face. She looked up with a bright smile—until she got a good look at him.
The moment her eyes met his soot-covered, disheveled appearance, she froze. Her expression shifted from confusion to shock.
"You, you, you...!!!" she stammered, her eyes going wide—then suddenly rolled back as she collapsed to the floor in a faint.
Lu Sheng was speechless. From downstairs, he could hear voices of startled shopkeepers reacting to the commotion. Without hesitation, he quickly stepped inside, scooped up Xiaoqiao, and gently placed her on the bed.
Then he got to work. He fetched water, boiled it, and prepared a wooden basin.
After scrubbing himself thoroughly, the water turned pitch black from all the smoke and ash on his body. Not satisfied, he fetched another basin and used a towel to wipe himself down again. This time, the cloth came away stained gray and black—but finally, he felt clean.
Once he was washed and dressed in fresh clothes, Xiaoqiao slowly regained consciousness.
She blinked up at him, eyes wide, studying his face carefully. Then recognition dawned in her expression—it was indeed her young master, Lu Sheng.
Lu Sheng calmly explained everything. He told her his clothes had been burned in a fire, but thankfully he hadn’t suffered serious injuries.
Panicked, Xiaoqiao ran off to call a doctor. Besides the silver Lu Sheng kept on him, the household had set aside a small sum—enough for Xiaoqiao’s daily expenses—which could easily cover the medical fee.
As the doctor examined and carefully applied medicine to Lu Sheng’s burns, Xiaoqiao sat quietly by his side, her eyes brimming with tears. She looked like she wanted to reach out and touch him, but held back for fear of causing him pain.
After his wounds were treated, Lu Sheng finally allowed himself to rest. For the time being, he stayed home to recover—and even stopped going to school.
After just half a month of rest, most of Lu Sheng’s injuries had healed. However, his appearance had changed drastically.
Though there were no scars left from the burns, his entire body was hairless. All his hair had been scorched off—leaving him bald, with no eyebrows, no beard, and not even a trace of fuzz. He was completely smooth-skinned from head to toe.
As he continued recovering at home, the time for the annual examination drew near.
Meanwhile, there was no word from Song Zhenguo. No one knew what he was up to after returning. As for Chen Jiaorong, after going back and learning the full extent of the situation, he sent a letter thanking Lu Sheng for saving his life. However, he made no mention of the Red House Ghost Ship—likely because Song Zhenguo had chosen not to tell him. And even if he had, perhaps Chen wouldn’t have believed it.
In his letter, Chen explained that he had been placed under house arrest. He had boarded the pleasure boat without permission, and although it wasn’t considered a criminal act, it was certainly a disgraceful matter in the eyes of his family. The incident had nearly cost him his life. Furious, his father forbade him from leaving the house altogether.
Not long after, Chen Yunxi came to personally express her gratitude to Lu Sheng. She presented him with a pair of exquisite white jade qilin as a token of thanks and conveyed an invitation from her father, the head of the Chen family, asking Lu Sheng to visit their estate once he had recovered.
When she saw Lu Sheng’s bald head, Chen Yunxi was momentarily shocked—but then couldn’t help herself. She covered her mouth, half in amusement, half in concern. Her eyes showed both worry and mischief as she teased him gently.
They bantered back and forth for quite some time, laughing together. It was almost afternoon before she finally took her leave.
After spending more time recuperating, Lu Sheng began planning to test his current strength. His mind kept returning to that final move he had unleashed on the pleasure boat—the one that haunted his thoughts.
But before he could carry out his plan, an unexpected visitor arrived—and slightly disrupted everything.
………….
Beside the General's Mansion in Yanshan City stood the Zuiluan Tea house.
On the third floor of its pointed-roof structure, in a private room at the top, Lu Sheng sat across from a veiled woman dressed in black.
Between them, the table was neatly arranged with a few snacks—melon seeds, pickled chicken feet, dried fruits, and nuts. In the center, a large vermilion teapot emitted a soft stream of steam, while two cups of green tea rested quietly in front of them, each half full.
Lu Sheng picked up a dried fig, placed it lightly in his mouth, and chewed slowly. His eyes, however, remained calmly fixed on the woman seated across from him.
"How many times have we met now?" he asked.
Duanmu Wan gave a faint smile, a trace of weariness evident on her face.
"I just happened to be passing through," she replied softly. "Came to see someone… a friend, maybe. I didn’t expect to run into you on the street."
She had been riding down the avenue when she spotted Lu Sheng emerging from a breakfast stall. Their paths crossed, and Lu Sheng suggested they have tea together. Surprisingly, she had accepted.
"Miss Duanmu… were you looking for that treasure again?" Lu Sheng asked, his voice low. Much of what he knew about the strange events in Jiulian City had come from her. He was eager to hear more—especially about the hidden world she seemed to move within.
"Yes," she answered with a tired nod. "Many people are after it."
She truly looked exhausted. The black veil she’d worn in the street now hung with her wide-brimmed hat on the coat rack beside her. If Lu Sheng hadn’t seen her face from below, he might not have recognized her at all.
His gaze drifted to her hands—slender and pale, but marred with scratches and dried blood. Her cuffs were stained, and her trouser legs bore dried patches of yellow mud, likely splashed on during hurried travel. The dark circles under her eyes revealed a lack of proper rest.
"You really look worn out," Lu Sheng said softly.
Duanmu Wan sighed and nodded, her composure stripped away. Gone was the graceful, mysterious aura she had once exuded. In its place was visible fatigue and quiet frustration.
"Some people always think they’ve already won. They won’t listen to anything, always convinced they’re right." Her voice trembled slightly. "No matter how much evidence you bring to show they’re wrong—it’s meaningless… Don’t you find people like that infuriating?"
Lu Sheng didn’t respond at once. He simply watched her, silent.
"Utterly detestable."4Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡHzNILr8Wdb
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Hi there, Taleria here!4Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡykLMXiEDGc
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