Huang Yu gaped, watching Zheng Fa’s figure retreat as he followed Steward Wu away.

He wasn’t quite sure what he was feeling. Remembering his own words earlier:

“I might be a little better than you…”

“You’re not that much worse than him…”

That was just me trying to comfort him.

Could he actually not be worse?

That feeling of “we’re on the same side” he had just felt had vanished. In fact, he was beginning to feel even more jealousy toward this “new friend” of his.

While he was lost in his thoughts, the reactions of those around him were simpler: “Who is this guy?”

But Zheng Fa…

“Where did Zheng Fa come from? Does anyone know him?”

“I remember he always sat in the corner.”

“I recall seeing him. He seemed pretty average, didn’t seem to be well-off. I thought he was just here to make up the numbers, but now…”

But some had noticed how Huang Yu had been speaking to Zheng Fa earlier.

“Brother Huang, you know that Brother Zheng?”

Huang Yu looked at the person asking him—a young man who had previously been hovering around Gao Yuan.

He remembered this young man’s sneer earlier when he had said, “I didn’t bring any money.”

Now, with a warm smile, the young man looked at him, and Huang Yu couldn’t help but feel strange.

“I… I came with him. His family’s situation probably isn’t great, worse than mine.”

“From humble origins, he’s become someone of note!” The young man showed no sign of the contempt he’d shown before, now nodding in genuine admiration: “Brother Zheng is indeed exceptional.”

Huang Yu felt a sharp sting of irony.

“Brother Huang, I haven’t changed that fast,” the young man said, as if sensing his discomfort. He gestured at his silk robes. “Before, we both wanted to cling to someone with influence. I had money, you didn’t, so naturally, I edged you out.”

His blunt honesty somehow felt genuine.

“But now it’s different, Brother Huang. Brother Zheng could be a powerful connection, and you got close to him first.”

Huang Yu suddenly had a moment of clarity.

Had he, in fact, bet on the right horse?

“There are still three of us left though, aren’t there?” Huang Yu thought, realizing things weren’t settled yet.

“You’re too late!” The young man gave him a pitying look, “You got there first, so I’m here to cozy up to you. If Zheng gets the study attendant role, I won’t even have the chance to ingratiate myself.”

He nodded behind Huang Yu, who turned to see several other young men smiling at him warmly.

Finally, he understood:

This must be the saying, “One person finds fortune, even the lowliest…”

Huh?

…

As Zheng Fa stepped out of the Waterside Pavilion, he noticed even more gazes following him.

Behind him, the other youths looked at him with expressions of confusion or enthusiasm. In front of him, Gao Yuan and Han Cheng eyed him with scrutiny and a hint of wariness.

What puzzled him more was Steward Wu’s subtle indifference toward him.

Had he somehow offended this steward?

Steward Wu wasn’t one for conversation and simply led the three of them forward. None of them dared speak; they just kept their heads down, following quickly and unable to enjoy the scenery around them.

Zheng Fa got the sense that they were headed toward the outer courtyard, and sure enough, when Steward Wu finally stopped, they were in a wide-open space.

This was more like a large training ground than a courtyard.

Half of the ground was paved with large, smooth bluestone slabs, on which various stone weights of different sizes and weights lay. The slabs themselves had been worn smooth by countless footsteps, shining in the light.

At the end of the stone-paved area stood a row of small huts, with racks holding various weapons outside the doors.

On the other side, a grassy patch led to a row of upright targets.

A burly man rode a horse across the grass, expertly maneuvering as he fired arrows from his bow.

Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh!

Zheng Fa couldn’t quite see how many arrows he loosed at once, but beside him, Steward Wu clapped and laughed, “Chief Instructor Xu, such impressive archery!”

The man heard this and, turning his horse’s head, charged toward them.

Clip-clop, clip-clop.

The sound of hooves hitting the stone slabs grew louder and louder.

The man showed no signs of slowing down; in fact, he leaned forward as if preparing to charge right through them.

With his face covered in a wild black beard and his towering stature, the sight of him bearing down on them was terrifying.

“Whoa!”

Just as Zheng Fa felt the horse’s breath on his face, the man pulled the reins hard, and the horse reared, its large black hoof barely three inches from his forehead!

Next to Zheng Fa, Han Cheng flinched, falling backward with a cry of pain.

The burly man dismounted, grabbing Han Cheng by the shoulder with a look of dissatisfaction. “This kid’s no good; he lacks courage.”

“He’s not here to be one of your guards,” Steward Wu chuckled, his smile unchanged even as the instructor had barreled toward them.

“Hmm?”

“These are the candidates for the Seventh Young Master’s study attendant,” he explained. “Madam specifically asked for you to check their suitability.”

Steward Wu then turned to Zheng Fa and the others. “The Seventh Young Master’s study attendant will not only study under Mr. Shen but will also learn martial arts from Chief Instructor Xu here. He’s here to judge your aptitude.”

Instructor Xu dropped Han Cheng to the ground, running his large hands over Han Cheng’s shoulders, back, and hips.

“No good! His talent for martial arts is subpar.”

Before anyone else could react, Han Cheng protested. Though usually silent, he knew these words could ruin his future. “Instructor, can you truly judge talent with just a few squeezes?”

“Hah!” Instructor Xu chuckled at him. “So you’ve got some spirit. Are you unhappy with my judgment?”

“Of course!”

Han Cheng gritted his teeth.

“I’ve trained every guard in the Zhao Estate. I’ve never misjudged someone’s potential in martial arts.”

Han Cheng’s face betrayed his disbelief.

“Let me ask you this: do you have trouble eating meals, especially rich, oily foods?”

Han Cheng paled, clearly caught off guard.

“Martial talent depends on two things—being born right and eating well!”

“At birth, your frame size, bone strength, absence of deformities or imbalances, and muscle strength determine a lot! If you have the talent, the biggest sign is this: a good appetite!”

Han Cheng was speechless.

“Of course, talent alone isn’t enough; you also have to be well-fed!” Instructor Xu continued, seemingly on a roll. “If someone has talent but doesn’t eat enough—it's worse than lacking talent! Steward Wu, as a martial artist yourself, I’m sure you understand.”

Steward Wu nodded, “Indeed, talent is a double-edged sword. Those with great talent need more nourishment. If they’re underfed, they won’t just fail to cultivate but may even have shorter lives.”

“Exactly! It’s like expensive flowers that can’t even sprout where weeds thrive.”

Zheng Fa sensed that as Steward Wu listened, he occasionally glanced his way, as if these words were meant for him.

And he wasn’t mistaken.

In Steward Wu’s mind, Madam’s request for Zheng Fa and the others to come to Xu Zheng was a subtle rebuke aimed at him.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by lotustale.com