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Meng Shan might have needed time to recuperate, but opponents were never in short supply at the Martial Review Hall. Tall or short, fat or thin, cautious or crafty, every type of fighter could be found there.
Seeing He Lingchuan appear every day, those itching for a bout would often challenge him outright. He even ran into two veterans from the Gale Army.
Thankfully, not everyone fought like Meng Shan and tried to beat him half to death every round, so whether He Lingchuan won or lost, he could face half a dozen opponents in a single dream session.
His strength, skill, and reflexes all improved through constant battle.
Another person profiting from this was Skinny, the bookie who managed the arena’s side wagers. Ever since He Lingchuan had begun frequenting the hall, the man’s income had skyrocketed. Rumor had it that he had nearly saved enough to pay his nephew’s school tuition.
* * *
The sun was three poles high.
On his way past home, He Chunhua stopped by to fetch a few documents. The moment he stepped into the side hall, he found his wife and eldest son sitting together at the table, leisurely enjoying pastries and tea.
A bite of cake, a sip of tea—both were smiling, chatting pleasantly.
When did these two become so...
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