12: Chapter 12 The Appearance of a Grandmaster

Life in Tingzhu Pavilion was still as boring and leisurely as ever.

Chen Fan tossed the last bit of dried fish to the orange cat at his feet, which had already grown as round as a ball.

The orange cat purred contentedly, rubbing its furry head against his calf.

On the open ground not far away, Zhang Shan was practicing his boxing.

He was shirtless, his sweat soaking through his pants and clinging to his lean but increasingly defined muscles.

Whoosh!

He threw a punch, creating a clearly audible gust of wind that slammed hard against the stone lock in the courtyard.

“Thud!”

The hundred-pound stone lock let out a dull thud and shook violently.

Chen Fan lifted his eyelids and stole a glance.

In just over half a month, this kid had already attained a certain level of proficiency with that rudimentary Stone-Crushing Fist.

Back when I practiced the horse stance, I couldn't even last fifteen breaths.

The gap between people really is vast.

He withdrew his gaze and continued to rest with his eyes closed.

No matter how good talent is, can it put food on the table? Can it be as comfortable as having several wives and concubines?

Just then, a series of footsteps came from outside the courtyard.

They weren't the fawning, short steps of Daoist Xuanli, but steady and powerful ones, carrying an air of natural authority.

Chen Fan frowned; his rare peace and quiet had been disturbed again.

The courtyard gate was pushed open.

An old Daoist wearing a cyan robe entered. He had a gaunt face and white hair and beard.

Behind him followed a sweating Xuanli. Seeing Chen Fan in the courtyard, Xuanli squeezed out a smile that looked worse than crying; he wanted to say something but was stopped by a gesture from the old Daoist.

The old Daoist didn't look at Chen Fan; his full attention was drawn to Zhang Shan, who was practicing his boxing in the middle of the field.

Zhang Shan also stopped. Seeing the newcomer, he was somewhat at a loss.

“Continue,” the old Daoist said, brief and concise.

Zhang Shan instinctively looked toward Chen Fan.

Chen Fan waved his hand, signaling for him to do as he pleased.

Zhang Shan took a deep breath, assumed his stance again, and performed a complete set of the Stone-Crushing Fist from beginning to end.

The wind from his punches whistled, appearing powerful and imposing.

Compared to half a month ago, it was a world of difference.

The old Daoist nodded repeatedly. He walked up to Zhang Shan and placed two fingers lightly on the meridians of his arm.

A moment later, an irrepressible look of excitement appeared on his originally calm face.

“Good! Excellent bone structure! Exceptional Comprehension Ability!”

He turned his head to look at Xuanli.

“Under whose sect does this boy belong?”

Daoist Xuanli hurriedly bowed. “In reply to the Temple Master, he... he has no master yet. He is... a servant in Young Master Zhao's courtyard.”

Temple Master?

Chen Fan finally opened his eyes.

This was the true master of Qingyang Taoist Temple, Daoist Master Xuan Yangzi.

A martial arts expert in Qinghe County who could split a three-foot bluestone with a single sword strike.

Xuan Yangzi ignored Xuanli's answer. He simply stared fixedly at Zhang Shan, as if he had discovered a piece of peerless unpolished jade.

“Are you willing to take me as your master?”

As soon as these words were spoken, the entire courtyard was shocked.

Daoist Xuanli's mouth hung open so wide it could almost fit an egg.

The Temple Master was going to personally accept a Disciple?

One must know that Daoist Master Xuan Yangzi had not accepted a Personal Disciple in ten years!

Zhang Shan was also stunned. He looked blankly at Daoist Master Xuan Yangzi, then at the indifferent Chen Fan on the lounge chair. For a moment, he didn't know how to react.

Becoming the Temple Master's Disciple was a meteoric rise!

This was an honor that all Outer Sect Disciples of Qingyang Taoist Temple wouldn't even dare to dream of!

Xuanli rubbed his hands anxiously on the side, repeatedly signaling Zhang Shan to agree quickly.

Zhang Shan finally snapped out of it.

He did not walk toward Daoist Master Xuan Yangzi.

Instead, with a “thud,” he knelt down in front of Chen Fan.

He kowtowed heavily.

“Young Master saved my life and gave me a place to stay.”

“Zhang Shan's life belongs to the Young Master.”

“If the Young Master doesn't speak, Zhang Shan is going nowhere!”

His words were powerful and resonant.

Xuanli's face instantly turned pale.

It's over! This idiot!

Daoist Master Xuan Yangzi was also taken aback. Only then did he truly look at the young man who had been lying on the chair since he entered, too lazy even to move.

Playful, lazy, flashy on the outside but rotten within.

This was his first impression of Zhao Long.

But now, this waste he considered useless held the future of a martial arts genius in his hands.

Daoist Master Xuan Yangzi frowned.

“Young Master Zhao,” he tried to keep his tone as calm as possible, “this boy is a martial arts prodigy rarely seen in a century. In time, he might even glimpse the realm of a Grandmaster. Keeping him as a servant by your side is a waste of god-given talent.”

Grandmaster?

Chen Fan yawned.

Sounds like something impressive.

But what does that have to do with me?

He looked at Zhang Shan, who was kneeling on the ground with a look of determination, and then at the serious-faced Daoist Master Xuan Yangzi.

A bit annoying.

It's just taking a Disciple; why make it seem like a life-and-death parting?

“Do you want to take him as your master?” Chen Fan asked Zhang Shan.

Zhang Shan was stunned for a moment, then nodded heavily, but immediately shook his head. “I'll listen to the Young Master!”

“He wants to take you as his Disciple?” Chen Fan then looked at Daoist Master Xuan Yangzi.

Daoist Master Xuan Yangzi nodded with a grim face.

“Fine.”

Chen Fan waved his hand impatiently.

“One wants to teach, and the other wants to learn. Then go ahead.”

“It's no big deal. Don't kneel here and be an eyesore, disturbing my sleep.”

He rolled over and found a more comfortable position, as if he had just shooed away a buzzing fly.

The entire courtyard fell into a deathly silence once again.

Daoist Master Xuan Yangzi stared fixedly at Chen Fan's back. The bellyful of arguments he had prepared were all stuck in his throat.

He thought this playboy would take the opportunity to set conditions or make things difficult in every way possible.

But the other party had just lightly given away a future Grandmaster.

He gave him away so casually, so naturally.

As if it wasn't a living person, but a toy he had grown tired of playing with.

Zhang Shan was also stunned. He looked up at the back of the person who couldn't even be bothered to turn around, and his eyes instantly reddened.

Young Master... is doing this for my sake!

The Young Master is afraid of hindering my future!

At this moment, Chen Fan's image in his heart rose infinitely.

“Thank you for your blessing, Young Master!”

Zhang Shan kowtowed heavily three times toward Chen Fan's back, leaving bloody marks on his forehead.

Then, he stood up, walked to Daoist Master Xuan Yangzi, and formally performed the apprenticeship ceremony.

Daoist Master Xuan Yangzi looked at his new Disciple, then glanced back at the young man who was already snoring softly, his heart filled with mixed emotions.

He suddenly felt as if he couldn't understand this number one playboy of Qinghe County.

...

Zhang Shan left.

Following Daoist Master Xuan Yangzi, he moved to the Quiet Room in the back mountain where the Temple Master practiced in seclusion.

Tingzhu Pavilion returned to its former tranquility—in fact, it was even quieter than before.

Chen Fan enjoyed the freedom.

Without Zhang Shan grunting and practicing boxing in the courtyard, he could sleep even more soundly during his afternoon naps.

One afternoon, just as Chen Fan woke up, an unfamiliar young Daoist ran in frantically.

“Young Master Zhao! Young Master Zhao! A letter has arrived from the manor!”

He presented a wax-sealed letter with both hands.

Chen Fan took it and opened it.

It was his father Magistrate Zhao De's handwriting, no mistake.

The content of the letter was sincere and filled with fatherly care.

First, it mentioned that the bandit problem at Black Wind Mountain had been completely wiped out by the County Lieutenant leading troops, so he no longer needed to be afraid.

Then, the tone shifted, saying that his mother had recently fallen ill due to missing him, lying in bed and murmuring about him day and night, hoping he could return home as soon as possible to comfort her.

Mother is sick?

An image emerged in Chen Fan's mind from Zhao Long's memory of a graceful, luxurious woman who doted on him in every possible way.

It's fine to go back.

Life on the mountain is quiet, but I'm getting tired of eating wild game all the time.

It's time to go back and taste the roasted chicken from Zuixian Restaurant, as well as the warm bodies of Liu Ruyan and Su Qingyu.

As for this mother of his, he would just go back and take a look.

He crumpled the letter and tossed it onto the stone table.

“Got it.”

He stood up and stretched, his bones letting out a series of crackling sounds.

He spoke to the Daoist still waiting in the courtyard.

“Go prepare a horse.”

“I'm heading down the mountain.”