Why do I have so many masters?

Chapter 132 Getting Rich (1/2)

Under Wu Changqing's care, Wang Anfeng's injuries, from which the poison and vigorous qi were cleansed, were no longer serious. He then employed the Silver Needle technique, stimulated his blood circulation, and disguised himself as uninjured. Estimating that his tracks would go unnoticed, he shouldered his wooden sword and returned to the mortal world.

Seeing no one around, he finally breathed a sigh of relief. To better conceal himself, he chose not to take the main roads and instead made a lengthy detour, approaching Fufeng City from a different direction.

When he left the city, it was morning. After the relentless pursuit, combat, and healing at the Shaolin Temple, it had become late afternoon. In early autumn, the sky already bore the colors of the setting sun's molten gold. Find more to read at My Virtual Library Empire

Standing before the city gate, Wang Anfeng turned to regard the lingering sunset, observing the bloody radiance that snaked across the sad aqua sky, remarkably alike to the scene above the Mi Family estate on that day. If one were to insist on a difference, it might be somewhat similar to the fresh blood that spurted from Xia Changqing's throat.

His countenance was just as ghastly at that time.

Wang Anfeng's thoughts scattered, and for a moment, he was lost in a trance.

Passersby glanced at the young man standing in a daze, unaware of what he was contemplating, then quickly dismissed the matter from their minds as they made their way into the city, thinking of the hot water and ample food at home, as well as their families, their spirits quite elevated.

The crowd bustled to and fro, with the young man singularly standing aside. Merely inches apart, yet he was utterly out of place.

It wasn't until the setting sun sank behind the mountains and the twilight colors in the sky began to thin that Wang Anfeng came back to his senses. He tightened his clothes and walked toward the city, his solitary and slightly cold aura dissipating, once again appearing as a serene youth.

His hairpin had been lost to the wind during the brawl with Xia Changqing, and his clothes were also somewhat tattered. He had simply tied his black hair with a grass rope at the Shaolin Temple and changed into a loose-fitting grey garment. With a wooden sword on his back, he looked no different from any young martial artist roaming the Jianghu.

Logically, carrying a sword should have made him very conspicuous. However, young men in such attire were a common sight in Fufeng City, coming and going every day. It was so ordinary, in fact, that it failed to arouse anyone's attention.

It was only upon uneventfully entering the city that the youth finally relaxed. Looking around, he realized he hadn't eaten a single grain of rice all day. Having had no meal at the Shaolin Temple, a thunderous growl resounded from his stomach the moment he was at ease, his face involuntarily wrinkling with a touch of bitterness.

Near the city gate, there was no shortage of taverns and eateries, with more than a dozen various diners within view, offering delicacies from both Jiangnan and the Northern Frontier. Even the cuisine of Wangxian County could be found. The wafting aromas only intensified Wang Anfeng's hunger and thirst.

Yet, he pretended not to see these establishments, with his hands resting on his stomach and head bowed as he hurried along, wrestling with his thoughts.

I want to eat.

No, you don't.

I want to eat...

No, you don't.

The food at the city gate is too expensive.

It's not worth it.

After walking for another ten minutes or so, he turned into a rather secluded alley, following the scent for about a kilometer until he saw a small stall. The youth could no longer move his feet and, as if possessed, walked over to the vendor and sat down.

At the stall, two pots faced the sky, their white broth bubbling with vegetables and pork. After sitting down, Wang Anfeng took an exquisitely made pouch from his bosom, quite weighty to the touch.

It had been taken from Xia Changqing, though he had not checked how much silver coin was inside. Judging by its heft, it was not inconsiderable. The young man reached inside and felt something like a jade plaque and several yuanbaos. With a slight sense of relief, he circulated energy in his fingers, prying a small bead from the yuanbao and placing it cautiously on the wooden table, saying,

"Shopkeeper, please bring me a jin of cooked meat, no..."

"Half a jin will do, as well as a basket of flatbreads."

As Wang Anfeng's palm opened, the item in his hand rolled onto the table, shining a golden hue. It was actually a bead of gold. The shopkeeper glanced at the gold, taken aback for a moment, then, as if afraid that Wang Anfeng would change his mind, quickly stepped forward to snatch it in his hand, retreating two steps and shouted out,

"Alright then, young master, please wait a moment."

"Your food will be ready shortly, I'll get your change now."

The young shopkeeper swiftly turned and retreated into the house. Wang Anfeng was slightly taken aback. Opening the delicate purse again, he looked inside with the help of the fading daylight. He saw three exquisite yuanbaos gleaming with a noble but not dazzling gold light, along with several jade plaques.

There was carving on them, indiscernible in the shadow, and as such, unclear. Wang Anfeng moved his hand slightly, turning the jade plaques to see the inscription on them.

'Ten thousand taels.'

Wang Anfeng's heart lurched, almost leaping out of his throat, followed by a sense of surreal absurdity.

Pork costs fifteen coins a catty.

So this little pouch is equivalent to...

Uh, well...

Equivalent to...

The youth's expression turned slightly dazed, unable to come to a conclusion in his mind, which became a tangled mess. He simply tossed the thought aside.

After all, whatever that number was, it was certainly more pork than he could eat in a lifetime. Just now he had felt a bit guilty for asking for meat, but now he felt calm again, with nothing left but anticipation for the delicious food.

While carefully stowing the purse away, he thought to himself that there was so much money inside—it was no wonder Xia Changqing hid these things so deeply.

If it weren't for a voice tipping him off, he would have never found it.

Thinking carefully, that voice seemed to be his third Master's, so skilful...

The youth nodded slightly, affirming to himself the identity of his third Master with delight and reverence as he sighed.

Truly worthy of being called a master thief!

............

Inside Shaolin Temple.

Wu Changqing looked at Hong Luoyu, who was hanging in the air nonchalantly and asked,

"When do you plan to teach Anfeng qinggong?"

The master thief, with a straw in his mouth, replied lazily,

"Qinggong...no rush, no rush."

"At least wait until his injuries have healed, and the effects of his breakthrough have subsided. Only then can he start cultivation. Otherwise, it's not easy to grasp it properly. If he does it wrongly, he could turn out to be neither here nor there. Walking around in Jianghu, he's bound to fail sooner or later."

"How to say it, my survival also had something to do with him. Now that he's called me 'third Master', I should at least put in some effort. It's my first time being a Master after all, and I've got to maintain the dignity of a Master. Even though it was that Ying who forced me to admit it, I have to make that kid understand from the bottom of his heart that his Master isn't just some thief..."

Upon reaching this point, Hong Luoyu suddenly remembered something. He flipped over, switched the position of the straw in his mouth, and with a provocative look, eyed the green-robed scholar. He smirked and said,

"Speaking of which, old medicine jar, there are four people here, but it seems only three are that kid's Masters."

"Oh my, why do I feel like someone is superfluous here?"

"Hey hey hey, I'm talking about you, Mister Ying..."

As the words fell, Mister Ying showed no reaction, and Hong Luoyu shrugged, feeling a bit bored by the lack of response.

Just then, a shadow suddenly appeared behind Hong Luoyu. With his qinggong, he naturally tried to dodge, but for some unknown reason, he couldn't move an inch. His face tensed as a palm grabbed his forehead and then pressed down hard, smashing his face directly onto the bluestone with such force that it embedded into it.

Where his face, and the bluestone met, wisps of blue smoke seemed to rise.

Wu Changqing sighed at the master thief who had once again led himself to trouble and inserted the ear plugs he had borrowed from Ci into his ears, then lowered his gaze to the medical book in his hands, murmuring,

"That's the third time today..."

PS: First release