Chapter 8: Fighting for Meat

  In truth, everyone had wao challenge An Jing on the very day, but they had all been too exhausted and sore from training to bear it, so they waited until the third day.

  Their collective challenge had nothing to do with the one-eyed instructor’s remark about the “standout leader.”

  Over the past half month or so, everyone had clearly seen what An Jing was capable of.

  Simply put, he was skilled both ierary and the martial.

  Those who surpassed him in schorship did not surpass him in martial prowess, and… actually, there was no one who surpassed him in martial prowess.

  Leaving other matters aside, on one occasion during an in-manor drill, a tall boy named Zhan Feng got into a dispute with another child.

  He was only twelve years old but already stood eight chi tall,* and his oppo was a skinny, dark-plexioned boy who, in truth, had astonishing physical strength.

  When those two fought, they kicked up gusts of wind, and no one else dared approach.But An Jing pinned each of them to the table with one hand, leaving them uo move as they begged for mercy.

  Because of that, even if initially everyone had only “accepted” it by default, after half a month, all of them aowledged An Jing as their de facto Senior Brother.

  The extreme enduraest results also proved that An Jing had the greatest stamina out of everyone present.

  But this aowledgment was based on the absence of personal gain.

  On the day of the test, An Jing’s dinner included ara bowl of red-braised spare ribs and a bowl of vegetable tofu soup.

  The steaming spare ribs smelled incredibly rich. The brown sauce seemed to carry a hint of spiess and medial herbs, stimuting everyone’s appetites. Even though the vegetable tofu soup looked ordinary, it appeared to have been simmered with a rich bone broth—something you might even sider a chef’s creation anywhere else.

  Hanging Fate Manor provided ample supplies of food: chestnut rice, meat broth, and bean-based meals, with the occasional egg or tofu. It was not a lot, but it was stable.

  That retty much it, though.

  A rge bowl of red-braised spare ribs, dripping with that oily, savory sauce, caused an immediate stir iire dining hall as soon as it appeared.

  Although An Jing did not turn around, he could tell from the sound of accelerated breathing behind him that nearly everyone was staring at him with green eyes of envy.

  Truth be told, his own eyes were green with envy, too.

  Without hesitating, An Jing devoured the meat before him at top speed.

  That night, a very satisfied An Jing heard twice as many people grinding their teeth in their sleep in the dormitory. Their sleep-talk all revolved around “roast meat” and “spare ribs.” The collective rese in the air ractically tangible, and he nearly couldn’t fall asleep… from amusement.

  He knew all too well that he definitely would not have a peaceful time from then on.

  But An Jing did not fear that in the slightest.

  pete with him for meat?

  Ha, what a joke!

  No matter who tried, he wouldn’t lose!

  An Jing got to eat those spare ribs for three straight days. Then, after everyone had recovered, out of the thirteen people who had pleted the entire run during the test, ten formally challenged An Jing uhe supervision of the instructor.

  “tinuous matches?”

  Upon hearing the rules announced by the instructu Yeqi—who always stuck close to An Jing—widened her already rge eyes in surprise.

  She asked in fusion, “Instructor Li, isn’t that a bit unfair? Brother Jing… An Jing has to win against every challenger in succession to remain Senior Brother?”

  This girl who came from the same region as An Jing was quite lively. Every time she saw An Jing, she would greet him happily as “Brother Jing,” and after training, she would bring him a bowl of water.

  He found it novel, having never had a younger sister before, so he was willing to look after her, occasionally giving her pointers on martial skills. Because of that, the two got along well.

  Of course, An Jing also khat if he ever truly had a younger sister, she likely would not be as sweet and low-maintenance as Gu Yeqi.

  “Exactly,” Zhang Ying—who stood behind An Jing, sp a bruise on his forehead—protested. “And it’s way too advantageous for the ter challengers! Even if he really wins, I doubt many will accept it!”

  “If he ’t keep up his stamina, that means his cultivation isn’t suffit,” answered Instructor Li (the one-eyed instructor), looking at An Jing with a hint of mischief, obviously wanting to test his limits. “And if anyone remains unvihey always challenge him again in the round.

  “You apprentices ’t take that long to decide victory or defeat anyway. It’s not possible, and you don’t have the ability t things out for long. One misstep and the oute is determined.

  “If you genuinely have the skill, beating ten people in a row won’t even take half an hour.

  “Want to be Senior Brother—the ‘leader’ of this i’s not that simple.”

  What Instructor Li said was true; An Jing did not think it was unfair at all. In fact, it was a great opportunity.

  An opportunity to subdue all those who refused to aowledge him!

  This time, ons were allowed in the challenge. Everyone could choose whichever wooden sticks, swords, or spears suited them, since Great had a thriving martial culture. Even a fair number of the younger geion had some exposure to onry.

  An Jied a short staff, using it somewhat like a mace, mainly for parrying the challengers’ ons.

  The first challenger used a bde, likely a butcher’s heirloom teique—his attacks were quite ferocious.

  That did not mean he bore extreme hostility; rather, he fully uood how skilled An Jing was. He khat if he did not use his full strength, he would be defeated in a single move. Actually, he himself did not believe he could win, but he was willing to risk it all for the sake of meat.

  After saluting each other, the challeruck first, stepping in and swinging his long bde in an ar a tricky angle below, aiming at An Jing’s inside line. Yet An Jing saw at ohat this person’s style was meant for a shorter, pointed butcher’s khat was why he o close the distao fight at cle. However, he was currently using a much longer bde, so rushing forward only made his swings unwieldy and threw off his ter of gravity.

  Seizing the moment, An Jing flicked the man’s long bde aside with his staff, then stepped forward and shoved him, causing the off-bance challeo tumble backward.

  The sed challenger probably came from a family of lumberjacks; he handled an axe well and chose a on he was obviously fortable with. With each swing, he radiated a fierd powerful aura, and had he mao nd an axe-blow on someohat person would have been severely injured on the spot. If An Jing himself had taken a direct hit, he would have been knocked out cold on the spot.

  The only problem was that An Jing was her wood nor timber.

  He could move.

  An Jing easily dodged that forceful axe strike, then jabbed his staff into the challenger’s side—right below his armpit—knog him off-band prompting him to yield.

  The third and fourth challehat followed posed no particur threat. One used a sword, another used a short spear. After a brief exge, An Jing spotted an opening each time aed them in succession.

  Although their stamina was solid and their talent was det—anyone who survived the Frost Camity had at least some ability, whether aided by parental prote or by sheer luck—most of them, even if they had killed before, had relied on that luck. Their martial skills were merely passable.

  But An Jing had practiced martial arts since childhood. Ba the Northern Frontier grassnds, he had fought alongside his mainst marauding bandits. He had also killed four or five crazed refugees who had resorted to ibalism. He had ambushed enemies and fought them head-on; he had real bat experience, and the differen level was just too great.

  He even had to sciously hold back all the time. Otherwise, his short staff might have reflexively struck his oppos’ hearts or smmed into their necks.

  That was also why he had chosen just a short staff. Being the rightful “meat-eating Senior Brother” by beating all the challengers was ohing, but actally killing a fellow disciple was another matter entirely.

  “They’re nowhere close,” Instructor Li remarked, shaking his head as he watched An Jing dispatch the fifth and sixth oppos like he was choppiables. “I inteo get a measure of the kid’s skills, but I never expected the gap to be so big.”

  He looked at the four remaining challengers with obvious disappoi. “None of them are going to cut it.”

  Among those st four, only one had det martial skills, while the others could at most bully other children. Even then, paring them to An Jing’s dispy, it was clear the gap was at least three or four levels wide.

  From the expression on that girl’s fae of awe and revere was obvious she had realized how good An Jing was and had lost her fighting spirit. She would probably give up immediately wheurn came.

  By this time, An Jing had already defeated the seventh challenger—he had not even used a on this round. He simply grabbed the oning long staff with his bare hand, then kicked the challenger back a full zhang, leaving him coughing and waving his hand i.

  Only one ke** had passed, and the ten challengers were nowhere near f An Jing to take half an hour. Even a ke and a half might be too long for them.

  Instructor Li frowned. He had e on a specific mission this time. An Jing being this good was certainly a plus, but it went against his pn to let him crush everyone else’s fighting spirit so thhly.

  His gaze swept across the two hundred or so Children of Camity. There were definitely some whose talent rivaled An Jing’s. However, precisely because they were so talehey reized how little actual battle experiehey had, and thus khey were no match for An Jing.

  As for those who did have real bat experiend det strength, they could all see how wide the gap was.

  Instructor Li sed several promising didates he had been optimistic about. None showed any desire to fight. He circled around, then finally spotted a youth atg the battle not with fear but with excitement, his fists ched. And he looked strong enough to pose a threat to An Jing.

  “You,” Instructor Li said, walking up to that youth. He patted the boy on the shoulder, then poi An Jing. “Go knock him down.”

  (End of Chapter)

  * Eight chi (八尺) here refers to a traditional ese measurement of height. Depending on the historical standard, one chi might be around 30 cm (roughly one foot), which would make eight chi approximately 2.4 meters (about 7 feet 10 inches). However, the term is sometimes used figuratively to indicate someoall for that era.

  ** Ke (刻) is a traditional ese time unit. One ke is equivalent thly 15 mihus, a ke and a half would be around 22–23 minutes.