Chapter Ten: Time Is Running Out

This world is truly wondrous, and Feng was quite excited, especially about the four mystical realms of martial arts.

There is the Copper Skin Realm, which strengthens muscles, bones, and flesh; the Stone-Splitting Realm, where one’s power can shatter stones and break tablets; and then the most formidable, the Army-Breaking Realm. It is said that those who reach this stage possess the ability to enter an army of ten thousand and take the head of the enemy general. Among them, a select few awaken what are called innate divine abilities.

Those with access to reliable information estimate that, in the world today, there are just over a hundred individuals in the Army-Breaking Realm, but those who have truly awakened an innate divine ability are fewer than the fingers on two hands.

For those in the Army-Breaking Realm, the nature of their awakened divine ability is their greatest secret, always kept as their ultimate card for survival.

According to well-informed sources, the chief eunuch Yu, who serves the emperor, is said to possess an innate divine ability and stands as a mighty figure in the Army-Breaking Realm.

As for the most mysterious realm—the War-Stopping Realm—it remains the stuff of legend.

Rumor has it that only those who awaken and fully master their innate divine abilities have a chance to touch this realm. Those who attain it are called immortals of the land, able to kill with a flick of a flower or a leaf, invisible and lethal.

Li Changsheng rambled on to Feng Jingzhe about many things, things he had never shared before. In the past, his young master would never have had such patience; after all, he was the sort to keep his hands busy even while listening to a courtesan sing at the brothel.

What was meant to be just a meal, Feng Jingzhe had planned to finish quickly and head out for a stroll. Yet, without realizing it, the crescent moon had already climbed to the tips of the willow branches. If not for the sound of the curfew drum as the neighborhood gate was locked, he would not have noticed how late it had become.

In the end, the conversation concluded with a sour mood.

The reason was Feng Jingzhe’s request to see the so-called "martial arts manual" Li Changsheng practiced. Li steadfastly refused, preferring to risk a kick rather than reveal a single word.

Disheartened, Feng Jingzhe could only lie on his bed, muttering curses against Feng Xiaoman, that tyrannical tigress, even as his eyes closed.

He slept soundly through the night—so much so that, if not for the gentle rise and fall of his chest, one might have thought he would never wake again.

As the sun outside illuminated half the wall, Feng Jingzhe was roused by commotion at the door.

It took a moment, after glancing around the familiar furnishings, for him to realize that all of yesterday’s events had not been a dream.

He soon heard lively voices, suggesting a group outside. One among them seemed to carry some status, for the conversation was filled with flattery directed at him.

"Master Zheng, if we place a few Shoushan stones here and plant some imperial bamboo, it will make the place more refined and elegant..."

"And this little pond—if we dig it two feet deeper and divert water from the river outside, we could create a circulating flow... Lotus blossoms in summer would fill the air with fragrance, and the moving water would keep mosquitoes at bay..."

"Very good, Wang Song, quickly note everything down. This will be my private residence, so spare no expense on materials..."

"Yes, young master, rest assured, I’ll see to everything personally and make sure all is done perfectly..."

The more Feng Jingzhe listened from inside, the more familiar the voices seemed.

"Well, well, isn’t that the debt collector Wang from yesterday?"

He sprang from his bed.

"The house hasn’t even been transferred yet, and the Zheng family dares to bring people in for renovations already? This is outrageous..."

Creak...

The nearly broken door was pulled open from within, and Feng Jingzhe came face-to-face with seven or eight people outside.

"Who are you? Why have you entered the viscount’s residence without permission?"

The craftsmen glanced at the young man leading them, their expressions betraying confusion.

"Ah, haha... Third Young Master Feng, you do forget important people. We just met yesterday, and you’ve forgotten already?"

Wang Song, seeing Feng Jingzhe, stepped forward to greet him.

"So it’s Butler Wang. Why have you brought so many into my house?"

Feng Jingzhe’s face was sour as he looked around for Li Changsheng.

He cursed inwardly, wondering where the scoundrel had gone. At such a critical moment, he was nowhere to be found—surely he had run off to hide when trouble arrived!

"Hahaha... Third Young Master Feng, don’t misunderstand. The house is about to change owners, so my young master brought people over to take a look. This way, when it’s time to tidy things up, we won’t be scrambling. If things aren’t to his liking, it’ll be a hassle to change them later..."

"Who said the house is changing owners? Didn’t I make it clear yesterday—there’s still a month left. If I repay the debt within a month, the house stays with the Feng family!"

"Oh, oh, oh, which frog is croaking so loudly? What big talk! Repay the debt in a month and the house stays with the Fengs... You?"

At last, the Zheng family's young master couldn't contain himself and stepped forward from the group, sizing up Feng Jingzhe's drowsy, disheveled appearance with undisguised disdain.

"Just woke up? Maybe you should wash your face first—or relieve yourself—before you come out to talk? Yesterday, I didn't come, which is why Wang Song was fooled by you! Isn't the whole point to get your general's wife to pay off your gambling debt for you? It's a clever plan, I’ll admit, and you’re lucky, but I doubt you’ll manage it in time..."

The newcomer wore a pale scholar’s robe, gently fanning himself with a folding fan, his smile cold and mocking as he approached.

In a flash, Feng Jingzhe recognized him from memory—the same slanted eyes, the hairy mole on his chin.

"So it’s you, Zheng Yongxiang..."

"Your memory isn’t so bad after all! I thought you were some dragon from across the river, daring to throw down two hundred taels in a bid against me for Miss Zixuan. Heh... turns out you’re just a bankrupt, pretending to be wealthy..."

Zheng Yongxiang cast his gaze around, finally settling it back on Feng Jingzhe.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk... Only you, Third Young Master Feng, would be so generous—this huge residence, and you let it go for fifteen hundred taels! Since you’re so magnanimous, I won’t fuss about that little squabble at the Scarlet Sleeve Pavilion."

He beckoned to Wang Song, who hurried over, bowing.

"Bring out the contract. This Third Young Master won’t get the money in time. After all, distant water can’t quench present thirst, and his wife, the Lady General of Zhenxi, won’t return to Chang’an before autumn at the earliest. Even if she shamelessly comes to pay, it’ll be too late—the house is ours, and ours it shall be..."

Hearing that she wouldn’t return until autumn, Feng Jingzhe was momentarily stunned.

If Zheng Yongxiang spoke true, it would indeed be impossible to clear the gambling debt within a month.

Though anxious, he showed no sign of it on his face.

As the saying goes, “Never lose your composure, even if you lose the game.” A man must stand tall, especially when faced with adversity!

Just as he was pondering how to retort, Li Changsheng came running in, shouting and waving what looked like a letter.

"Young... young master... the lady... a letter... the lady... sent a letter..."