Start with everyday skills and grind your way to immortality.

At the third quarter of midnight, the night is at its darkest.

Chen Qian didn't go to sleep, but changed into a neat set of shorts and went to A Qing's house.

That night, there wasn't a moment of rest.

……

As dawn approached, a wisp of bluish-gray appeared on the horizon.

Chen Qian returned to his own courtyard, still feeling the chill.

Without disturbing her sleeping brother and sister-in-law, she simply rinsed her hands and face by the well.

At that moment, the door to the main room creaked open.

Aqing came out.

She had clearly not slept all night; her eyes were somewhat dark, but her gaze was much clearer than yesterday.

Holding a broom, he seemed to be preparing to help sweep the yard.

Upon seeing Chen Qian, she was somewhat at a loss for words.

He then called out softly, "Young Master."

Chen Qian dried his hands and walked up to her.

Instead of offering any words of comfort, he abruptly asked, "Can you act?"

Aqing was taken aback, then looked up somewhat blankly: "Acting...acting?"

"It's very important. If you can't act, you have to find another way."

Eyes facing each other.

"Uh, I know a little."

……

As the sun rose higher, the noise from the streets grew louder.

"Sister-in-law, I'm going to meet some friends today, so I won't be back for lunch."

Chen Qian greeted everyone at the door and then turned and walked out of the alley.

Walking among the crowd, he appeared calm and composed, as if he were just a scholar out for a leisurely stroll.

Linjiang County is still bustling, but an undercurrent is brewing.

In the past, this county town was mostly filled with familiar faces of merchants and laborers.

But today, on just one street, he saw several groups of people who didn't fit in.

At the entrance of the teahouse sat two dusty Taoist priests, their robes covered in mud.

His satchel was bulging, and his eyes were sinister; he didn't seem like someone who cultivated tranquility and inaction.

At the street corner, three warriors carrying heavy cloth bags were talking in hushed tones.

Their tiger's mouths were covered in calluses, and the bloodthirsty aura emanating from them could be smelled from several meters away.

There were even a few strangers dressed in strange clothes and speaking with accents from other places, who were gesturing around the streets with compasses.

These people all had a kind of江湖 (jianghu, a term referring to the world of martial arts and chivalry) air about them, or even a bandit-like air.

Throughout the journey, Chen Qian's brows furrowed slightly.

"Recently, there have been more unfamiliar faces in Linjiang County."

Just as I was pondering this, a very low murmur of conversation broke out.

[Experience in reading between the lines +1]

[Auditory recognition experience points +1]

"Old Luo, even you guys smelled the scent and came?"

"Hey, how dare you talk like that? This Linjiang County isn't yours to run. I heard a batch of red goods leaked out of the ghost market a couple of days ago, everyone says it came from..."

"Shh! Keep your voice down! Haven't you heard that the 'King of Hell' at the county government is arresting people all over town?"

Chen Qian withdrew his wandering gaze, lowered the brim of his hat, and walked calmly through the chaotic street.

"Red goods, out-of-town desperados... it seems things aren't peaceful in Linjiang after all."

He sighed inwardly, but did not stop walking.

Before long, the iconic dead old locust tree in the west of the city came into view in the distance.

The tea stall was doing very well; every seat was occupied.

People from all walks of life gather here, exchanging toasts and spittle flying everywhere.

The bustling market, as noisy as a boiling pot, is a perfect hiding place.

Chen Qian did not approach rashly.

He first went around to the narrow alley behind the tea stall to make sure there were no hidden sentries.

He then observed the directions of the three surrounding alleys and mentally planned out the two best retreat routes should a conflict occur.

After completing all the reconnaissance work, he straightened his clothes and slowly walked in from the front of the street.

Instead of going directly to the innermost spot, he first found an inconspicuous corner on the edge.

I ordered a bowl of broken tea, and while blowing on it to cool it down, I subtly glanced towards the deepest part of the tea stall.

The table at the very back of the tea stall.

There was no one there.

About fifteen minutes later.

During this time, Chen Qian was also constantly gaining experience in divination using the Five Elements.

This experience point is the easiest to gain besides literacy.

A slight commotion arose outside the tea stall, and the previously noisy crowd subconsciously quieted down a bit.

Two people strode in.

Walking to the side and behind was Zhao Rong, the playboy who had been frightened by Chen Qian that day.

Today he changed into a low-key brocade robe, and his usual arrogance was gone; instead, he appeared somewhat reserved.

Walking in front was a young man whom Chen Qian had never seen before.

This man was extremely tall, with broad shoulders and a thick waist, and was dressed in what appeared to be an ordinary black outfit.

But the bulging muscle lines under the fabric also show that he must be a trained fighter.

What's most chilling are his eyes, sharp as knives.

As he surveyed the entire area, the surrounding martial arts practitioners all avoided his gaze, not daring to meet his eyes.

"Are those Zhao Feng and Zhao Rong?"

"Shh! Keep your voice down!"

"What brings you here, sir? I heard that last month you single-handedly took down that gang of bandits roaming outside the city."

The hushed whispers around him reached Chen Qian's ears clearly.

[Auditory recognition experience points +1]

"Zhao Feng, the son of the county magistrate?"

Chen Qian's gaze suddenly narrowed.

Even the original owner of this body, a scholar who was oblivious to the world around him, had heard of this name.

I thought Zhao Rong would at most bring one person or a bodyguard from his home to make a scene.

"Zhao Rong, Zhao Feng..."

Chen Qian thought to himself with a chill: "No wonder Zhao Rong dares to be so arrogant, it turns out he's from the Zhao family, the county magistrate."

Under the guidance of "observing words and expressions".

Although Zhao Feng's blood and energy were not as violently unleashed as that of the stall owner in the ghost market, it was clear that he was definitely not at the level of "warm blood"!

This is definitely the work of a master who has ignited the fire within!

"Something's not right."

Chen Qian made a judgment instantly.

If it were only Zhao Rong, this纨绔 (wán kù, a spoiled brat), he could still put on airs.

However, when facing a martial arts constable like Zhao Feng, who has been fighting on the front lines for many years, close contact would easily expose one's true nature.

Moreover, what if the other party has malicious intentions, or wants to take you back for interrogation about the origins of the "expert"?

With my current rudimentary understanding of the "Golden Bell Cover" and "Eight Steps to Catch the Cicada" techniques, I probably wouldn't even have a chance to escape from him.

"A wise man does not stand under a crumbling wall."

Chen Qian lowered the brim of his hat, using the figure of a large, fat merchant next to him to cover himself.

Without the slightest hesitation, they retreated silently.

……

Zhao Feng walked into the tea stall, his eyes scanning the area like those of a hawk.

The legendary "master" was not found.

He walked to the table and placed the agreed-upon Biluochun tea in it.

"What time is it?"

Zhao Rong wiped the sweat from his brow, feeling somewhat guilty: "Brother, the appointment was for noon today. That expert has a strange temper; perhaps... he's still testing us?"

Zhao Feng was about to speak.

A little beggar timidly approached, clutching a dirty piece of paper in his hand.

"Gentlemen...gentlemen, an old man wearing a straw hat asked me to give this to you."

"They said there was a reward."

Zhao Feng's eyes narrowed, and he pinched the paper between two fingers.

Upon unfolding it, there was only one line of hastily written ink:

"The tea's gone cold. Turn left after you go out, and at the third alley, let's have a chat over the wall."

Zhao Feng raised the corner of his mouth.

"What a vigilant guy."

He casually took out three or four coins and gave them to the little beggar.

"Let's go!"