Chapter 70: Wind and Snow

Surviving In A Martial Arts World To Become A Saint

The next day, heavy snow fell.

In front of the Wang residence on Sifang Street, a figure stepped out through the snow.

Chen Qing cupped his fists briefly, "Young Master Wang, farewell."

Wang Zhi smiled and returned the courtesy, "Brother Chen, rest assured."

Chen Qing turned and walked away, his figure disappearing into the wind and snow, heading straight toward Wang's Cloth Shop.

A servant nearby approached and whispered, "Young Master, this Master Chen... just drank a cup of tea and left?"

"Don't ask too many questions."

Wang Zhi's gaze followed that departing figure, gently shaking his head, "Do your proper duties. Today's matter need not be publicized."

Some words were best left unsaid, with mutual understanding.

Chen Qing's visit to the Wang family was to secure a stable future for her.

Wang Zhi was a clever man.

With today's tacit "guidance," as long as he remained in position, Wang Zhi would surely provide extra care.

The wind and snow continued. Chen Qing arrived at Wang's Cloth Shop.

He raised his hand and lightly knocked the door ring.

"Creak—!"

The door hinge made a sound as a little girl about thirteen or fourteen years old, with cheeks red from cold, poked her head out.

"Who are you looking for?" the little girl asked.

"Please inform her that I'm looking for Yang Huiniang," Chen Qing said.

The little girl said "oh," retracted her head, and soon poked it out again, "Manager Yang asks you to come in, to the side hall."

She stepped aside to make way.

Chen Qing walked in slowly.

"Who is that young man, Little Peach?" a woman asked.

"I don't know, he came looking for Manager Yang," the little girl replied.

"Could he be Manager Yang's cousin?" another woman nearby looked Chen Qing over and said.

Little Peach's eyes immediately widened, filled with curiosity.

Everyone in the cloth shop knew that the young master had promoted Yang Huiniang and was very polite to her, recently even somewhat deferential. All of this was because of Yang Huiniang's cousin.

Chen Qing stepped across the threshold. The air was filled with the unique smell of starched fabric and dyes mixed together, warmer than outside but still damp and cold.

He walked toward the small side hall that served as both accounting room and rest area.

Lifting the thick cotton curtain, warmth mixed with faint ink fragrance and charcoal fire scent greeted him.

Yang Huiniang sat behind an old writing desk, head down checking account books. She still wore that old dress washed until it was white, but over it she had a clean deep blue fine cloth cotton vest, and her hair was arranged more neatly than usual, showing the bearing of a manager.

Hearing movement, she looked up. Seeing Chen Qing, those eyes that always carried gentleness immediately brightened.

"Ah Qing!"

She put down her brush and quickly stood up, a genuine smile blooming on her face, "Come in and sit quickly, it's terribly cold outside, isn't it?"

She hurried to the charcoal brazier in the corner, picked up fire tongs and stirred the glowing red charcoal blocks to make the warmth even stronger.

"No need to fuss, cousin."

Chen Qing sat on the long bench beside the brazier, "I just came to see you. I heard you were promoted to manager but hadn't congratulated you in person yet."

Yang Huiniang sat beside him, somewhat embarrassedly tucking stray hair behind her ear, "Oh, it's just the young master showing favor, and... it's also thanks to your good fortune."

Her voice lowered, "If you hadn't passed the martial examination as a scholar, the Wang family wouldn't have..."

"Cousin."

Chen Qing interrupted her, his tone serious, "You became manager because you work diligently and are reliable. It's due to your own abilities. The Wang family was just following the situation."

Yang Huiniang's heart warmed, knowing he was afraid she might overthink. She smiled and stopped dwelling on this topic, instead asking, "How is aunt? Is she settling in well at the new place? I passed by and saw that area. It's close to the Zhou courtyard, much quieter, a hundred times better than Mute Bay."

"All is well, mother feels much more at ease."

Chen Qing nodded, his gaze sweeping over the cloth piled in the corner of the side hall, "As manager, you don't have to go into the water to pound cloth yourself anymore, do you?"

"Yes!"

Yang Huiniang nodded vigorously, her eyes curving into crescents, "Now I mainly check accounts, arrange work, inspect quality, and occasionally guide new girls. All those torturous dirty and tiring jobs from Granny Wang... cough, the former manager, are gone."

Her tone carried the relief of a burden lifted, then became somewhat wistful, "It's just that sometimes seeing Little Peach and the others, so young and having to soak in cold water, reminds me of my own past..."

Outside the window, cold wind swept past the eaves with a whooshing sound.

"I still remember when we were children at the old house..."

Yang Huiniang looked at the dancing charcoal fire, her expression growing distant, the corner of her mouth unconsciously showing a nostalgic smile, "Once in winter, on a day just as cold as this, I secretly took grandfather's precious pipe to play with, and ended up hitting it against the corner of the millstone, denting the spout badly."

Chen Qing also remembered that incident, "The old man was so angry his beard stood on end, searching the whole courtyard for the 'culprit.'"

"Exactly!"

Yang Huiniang remembered that scene, finding it both funny and somewhat frightening, "I was terrified, hiding behind the woodpile not daring to come out. That pipe was grandfather's treasure, he usually wouldn't even let us touch it much. But then..."

She turned to look at Chen Qing, her eyes flickering with gratitude and mischief, "Then you, you quiet one, just stood up without a word, saying you had accidentally dropped it while playing with it."

How old was Chen Qing then? Only eight or nine years old, wooden and taciturn, yet he had stood up at that moment.

Chen Qing smiled and said nothing.

"That beating grandfather gave..."

Yang Huiniang remembered how Chen Qing looked being beaten, her voice lowering with heartache, "He broke two feather dusters. You endured it without crying once, and never gave me away. Later... later it was Second Aunt who noticed green moss from the millstone corner on my sleeve that she guessed..."

"All past matters," Chen Qing said.

"But I've always remembered, Ah Qing," Yang Huiniang smiled.

Chen Qing said, "Couldn't just watch you get beaten."

His reason was simple.

Yet this simple statement made the warmth in Yang Huiniang's heart grow even stronger.

In the cozy side hall, the charcoal fire crackled.

Chen Qing looked at the old dress washed white that his cousin wore.

He solemnly took out a plain-colored pouch from his chest and placed it on the old writing desk between them.

"Cousin, please accept this."

Yang Huiniang's gaze fell on the pouch. She was stunned at first, then reacted, "Ah Qing! What are you doing? Put it away quickly!"

She urgently pushed the pouch back toward Chen Qing, her tone carrying unquestionable determination, "I'm a manager now, my monthly salary is enough with surplus. You've just settled aunt, everything needs money, take it back quickly!"

Chen Qing didn't move, only steadily pushed the pouch back, saying earnestly, "Back then you gave me your dowry money for martial training. Now that I have the ability, this token of appreciation, cousin must accept."

"That little money was nothing!"

Yang Huiniang became anxious, her eyes slightly reddening, "Seeing you achieve what you have today makes me happier than anything! I absolutely cannot take this money..."

She spoke while trying to push the pouch away again.

This time, Chen Qing was quicker. His broad palm steadily pressed on the pouch, also holding down Yang Huiniang's outstretched hand.

"Cousin, please accept it. I can earn money myself now. And if you don't take it, I'll always feel like there's a stone pressing on my heart."

Yang Huiniang's hand was covered by his warm palm, that heavy pouch right underneath.

She looked at the concern in Chen Qing's eyes, and her pushing motion finally stopped.

She lowered her head and finally gripped that pouch tightly.

The heavy weight in her hands filled her heart with mixed emotions.

She patted Chen Qing's arm, "...Ah Qing... you've really made something of yourself!"

The two chatted for a while longer before Chen Qing stood to take his leave, "Cousin, I won't disturb you further."

"Then go slowly on your way back. When you have time, feel free to visit at home." Yang Huiniang's voice still trembled somewhat.

"Alright."

Yang Huiniang saw Chen Qing to the cloth shop entrance, watching his figure disappear into the vast wind and snow.

She stood for a long time before turning back inside.

Her gaze fell on that pouch, her heart still churning with complex emotions.

Yang Huiniang gently untied the cord and roughly counted, there were actually fifty taels or more...

After leaving the cloth shop, Chen Qing first bought some meat, then headed home.

He didn't wear much clothing. With transforming strength achieved, his qi and blood were perfectly harmonized, tendons, bones, and skin unified as one. This bitter cold was merely like a gentle breeze to him.

His exhaled breath condensed into a straight white ribbon that lingered long in the frigid air.

Near the entrance to Mute Bay under the old locust tree, a huddled figure caught Chen Qing's attention.

The person was hunched over, wrapped in a tattered cotton coat so patched that its original color was unrecognizable, wearing a dog fur hat pulled low, with drooping ear flaps that couldn't hide ears red from cold.

On his shoulders he carried a crude peddler's pole, with wicker baskets at both ends covered in thick snow, vaguely revealing needles and thread, inferior rouge, coarse salt blocks and other sundries.

The heavy load bent his shoulders, and he trudged through the snow with labored steps, each one appearing incredibly difficult. His straw shoes were long soaked through, with toes exposed through holes frozen purple-black.

In the wind and snow, the man struggled to see the path ahead, raising a face carved with lines by bitter wind and hardship.

Their eyes met.

Chen Qing's steps halted, and the wind and snow seemed to freeze at that moment.

This person was none other than Liang Badou.

Only now, the light in his eyes had long been extinguished, leaving only numbness after life's heavy blows, and the panic and humility that suddenly surged upon recognizing an old friend.

"Master Chen."

Liang Badou's voice was dry and hoarse, carrying a tremor.

He instinctively tried to straighten his back, but the heavy load pressed him even lower.

He fumbled trying to set down his burden. The snow was too deep, the baskets tilted, and contents nearly spilled out. He frantically tried to steady them.

Chen Qing watched this scene, quickly stepped forward, and steadied the toppling load with his hands.

"Brother Badou, no need for such formality." Chen Qing's voice was calm.

Liang Badou finally stood steady and looked up at Chen Qing cautiously.

His lips trembled as he forced out a smile uglier than crying, that smile mixed with embarrassment and humility, "It's Master Chen, you've returned?"

That address of 'Master Chen' was like an invisible ice wall instantly erected between the two.

Chen Qing was silent for a moment, then asked, "In this bitter cold, why are you still out peddling?"

Liang Badou rubbed his cracked, frozen hands, breathing white mist, his eyes darting away unable to meet Chen Qing's gaze, his voice barely audible, "No choice, Master Chen. Several mouths at home are waiting, and Third Master he..."

He paused, his throat working as he swallowed bitterly, "...committed an offense, was stripped of office, house confiscated. I lost my position too, could only return and become a street peddler, scraping by."

He spoke incoherently, as if wanting to pour out all the grievances and bitterness accumulated in his heart, yet felt incredibly awkward under Chen Qing's calm gaze, finally only sighing, "Ah, these times are hard, harder than back in the reed marshes..."

Chen Qing looked at the extinguished light in his eyes, at that load that had crushed his youthful spirit, as if seeing countless shadows struggling and sinking in this chaotic world's mire.

Fate truly was a cruel manipulator of clouds and rain.

Chen Qing untied the coarse cloth at his waist, took out several taels of broken silver, and pressed them into Liang Badou's hands full of cracks and calluses without allowing refusal.

The heavy, cold weight in his hands made Liang Badou's whole body tremble.

"Take it, buy some thick winter clothes and charcoal for the family."

Chen Qing said, "It's cold and the roads are slippery. Go home early."

Liang Badou's lips trembled violently. He wanted to say words of thanks, wanted to decline, wanted to ask where Chen Qing was employed now... countless words stuck in his throat.

Finally they turned into burning tears in his eyes. He bent deeply in a bow, choking out, "Thank you for Master Chen's great kindness! Thank you Master Chen..."

Chen Qing said nothing more, only nodded slightly, turned, and continued forward through the wind and snow.

The snow was falling even harder now.