"Afraid?"
Zhong Lin gently patted Little Stone's head and asked with concern.
"No... not afraid."
Despite trembling legs and a pale face, clearly terrified, those eyes were still fixated on the tragic state of the Town Mountain Tiger.
Zhong Lin didn't say more. How could he not be afraid? After all, Little Stone was just a five or six-year-old child.
He lowered his head to pull out the arrow from the Town Mountain Tiger's eye socket, casually wiped it clean with the dirt on the ground, then placed it back into his arrow quiver, squatting down to search the tiger's body.
Moments later, he retrieved a money pouch and a book wrapped in brown paper from the Town Mountain Tiger.
The pouch contained not large coins but silver, quite a bit, a good eight taels. This unexpected windfall made Zhong Lin very happy, but at the moment, all his attention was focused on the book, his heart pounding.
Could it be the secret martial arts manual, protected so carefully by a bandit?
Carefully unwrapping the brown paper, a yellowed and creased book appeared before his eyes.
The creases indicated that the Town Mountain Tiger must have often read it, yet it remained well preserved without damage.
"Second brother, is this a book?"
Little Stone asked, full of curiosity.
"Yes!"
Zhong Lin gently opened the pages but soon revealed a pained expression.
It was indeed a secret martial arts manual, for the book featured illustrations of little figures practicing punches, but he quickly discovered a bothersome problem.
He couldn't read.
Beside the little figures were some annotations, but alas, he didn't recognize a single word.
"Imagine, I was a proud graduate of a 211 university in my past life, now I've become illiterate." Zhong Lin remarked with a helpless sigh.
His past life was but a rustic village fellow from a small mountain village, without access to education. Literacy was monopolized by special classes, so it was normal for him not to recognize the characters.
Even though the drawings were there, Zhong Lin didn't dare to practice randomly without understanding the meanings, lest he end up like someone who mistakenly practiced the Taoist Nine Yin Divine Claw into the Evil Sect's Nine Yin White Bone Claw, suffering paralysis.
Reluctantly, he wrapped the book back up and tucked it into his bosom, carrying Little Stone and quickly departing.
"Young brother, if you don't mind, you can have your little brother ride on this old man's ox cart."
Zhong Lin, after some thought, placed Little Stone onto one of the ox carts. Even if the little guy was malnourished, he still weighed forty to fifty pounds, making it tiring to carry him for long.
"This old man is named Cui Xian. Might I inquire the young brother's esteemed surname? Were it not for your help, my family would have met a gruesome end in the wild." Cui Xian respectfully inquired.
"Zhong Lin, pleased to meet you, Old Cui."
At over fifty years of age, calling him Old Cui was not inappropriate.
"The Zhong surname? There aren't many Zhong families in Black Mountain. They're primarily in Xiaoniu Village, Upper River Village, and Lower River Village. You must come from one of these, right? Who would've thought such an expert archer could come from a humble village? Truly remarkable!" Cui Xian praised, stroking his beard.
Zhong Lin glanced in surprise at Cui Xian: "Old Cui, you are exceptionally knowledgeable."
"Not at all, just lived long enough to know a few more things than others. With the heavens bringing a great drought, having to leave home and wander, now I'm but a stray dog." Cui Xian sighed, lamenting the hardships of the world.
Not wanting to meander, Zhong Lin asked directly, "Old Cui, I overheard you mention martial artists. Could you enlighten me?"
"Haha, it seems young brother is quite curious about martial artists. I don't know much myself, but I can tell you this: martial artists are those who practice martial arts. Commoners who practice basic farming skills at most are called martial artists, but only those who reach grading levels are called martial artists."
"What is grading?"
Zhong Lin looked intrigued.
"I'm not entirely sure, but supposedly, when martial practitioners train to a certain level, they break through their limits, gaining extraordinary divine power, known as grading. It's said there are nine levels; the ninth-grade martial artists are in the Skin Grinding Realm, bearing hundreds of pounds of strength, mainly with hides tough as armor. Just like the Town Mountain Tiger, arrows can't pierce its skin, knives only leave white marks. Shooting an arrow is like shooting buffalo hide; you can't break through unless you hit a weak spot." Cui Xian's eyes showed fear.
Zhong Lin nodded thoughtfully, realizing it was indeed terrifying.
In the ancient dynasties of Huaxia, having swords at home wasn't a problem, but having armor was akin to rebellion.
If someone was armored and armed, they could chase down dozens of people. With hundreds of armored troops, one could sway the outcome of a battle of tens of thousands.
Now a martial artist, upon reaching a grade, is essentially armored, showcasing how powerful a ninth-grade martial artist was.
"The eighth grade is called the Muscle Strengthening Realm, where the muscles contract powerfully, explosively fierce, with agility.
Above that, the seventh grade is the Bone Forging Realm, where bones are like steel, strength boundless, said to have a force of a thousand pounds; none can withstand a single blow."
"And what else?"
Zhong Lin's eyes lit up with excitement.
Cui Xian shook his head with a wry smile: "I'm just a peasant from the countryside; what I know comes from my son who works in the county. Beyond that, I don't know, but my son said the Skin Grinding, Muscle Strengthening, Bone Forging are the Lower Third Grades of martial arts, focusing mainly on body training. Above them are the Middle Third Grades, where they possess Qi Blood Power inside, but I don't know the specifics."
Though feeling regret, Zhong Lin confirmed that this world indeed had transcendent power and a system already in place.
Just the Lower Third Grades had such power, so what about the Middle Third Grades? And the ultimate First Grade?
Were they even stronger?
Could they split stone and break monuments, tear tigers and leopards by hand?
Or move mountains and stop seas, capturing stars and taking the moon?
Zhong Lin's logic was limited, but his imagination was not.
...
"We've arrived."
Zhong Lin looked up to see a tall city gate, the faint sight of blue bricks and white walls, with a few high buildings behind it.
"We've finally arrived at Black Mountain County."
The closer they got, the more buildings of Black Mountain County became visible, with stone-paved roads, not mud walls or thatched houses, but constructions of stone and wood, not ornate but possessing a classic elegance.
The stark contrast between the village and the county city was like two different worlds.
At the city gate stood soldiers with long spears on guard, watching the people and refugees flowing in and out.
There was no obstruction for refugees entering the city, indicating there was a way to make a living, even if it meant becoming a slave over starving to death.