On his first day of work, Su Mo ended his cultivation early, only to find his aunt was up even earlier, having prepared breakfast specially for him.
“Auntie, I could have eaten outside. The martial arts hall opens early; I don’t want to disturb your rest.”
“You can eat outside from now on, but today is the first day. I had to make it for you myself,” Li Jintian seemed quite happy.
Chiba Mitsuaki was also up at the crack of dawn, and even Kotaro, who was still in elementary school, shuffled out of his room rubbing his sleepy eyes: “Good morning, Masaka-nee.”
Only Chiba Keiko was not at home, having been called back late last night for an urgent mission.
This wasn’t the first or second time this had happened; the family was used to it by now. Given her status as the deputy sect master’s disciple, she was basically never in any real danger.
As Su Mo ate the steaming hot breakfast, he couldn’t help but reflect inwardly: If the real Chiba Masaka had returned, she would probably be very happy.
Unfortunately, her fate had been decided from the moment she was born. She was destined for a life without happiness.
In comparison, he was much luckier.
Su Mo headed out wearing simple casual clothes today; he would change into his training uniform at the martial arts hall.
Perhaps because he had mentioned to Chiba Keiko that he had studied martial arts before, his assigned job was precisely that of a martial arts instructor—though he still had to go through the application process first.
Arriving at the interview location, Su Mo saw the words “Loyalty and Righteousness” written above the martial arts hall’s entrance, which he assumed was the hall’s name.
From inside came the sounds of the instructor’s scolding and the students’ cries, which sounded quite miserable.
He knocked on the open door, and everyone inside turned to look.
There was only one instructor, a middle-aged man in his forties with a resolute face that clearly marked him as a martial artist.
The students were mostly in their teens, with a few possibly under ten years old. They stood in line, crying, clearly still not fully awake.
“Hello, are you Mr. Takahashi Mitsuyo? I’m here to apply for the martial arts instructor position.”
The middle-aged man glanced at him. Unlike other men who might have lit up at the sight, his face darkened, and his tone turned distinctly unfriendly: “Wait first. The students need to finish warming up.”
With that, he ignored Su Mo and continued reprimanding the disobedient students: “Your parents signed guarantees when they entrusted you to me. Don’t blame me for being harsh—this is the punishment for your disobedience… Higashino-kun—do you have a problem with that?”
A thin, frail-looking teenager of about fifteen or sixteen stepped forward, smirking and shaking his leg, the very image of a delinquent: “Instructor Takahashi only teaches us useless stuff. You never share the real techniques. Why should I listen?”
Takahashi Mitsuyo raised an eyebrow: “You’ve practiced basic skills for less than three days and already want to learn advanced techniques?”
The teen lifted his chin, defiance written all over his face: “I can take on several guys my age by myself. These basics are unnecessary for me.”
Among the other students, a few of the older ones exchanged knowing, resigned smiles.
Wasn’t this just like them in the beginning?
Aside from parental pressure, anyone who came to the martial arts hall had some interest in martial arts. And those who stayed were often “experts” just like this kid.
Takahashi Mitsuyo didn’t get angry. He simply crooked a finger: “Come on, then. Let me see how capable you are. If you can withstand three moves from me, I’ll teach you the real stuff.”
A glint of excitement flashed in the teen’s eyes. He figured if he dodged quickly enough, three moves would be a piece of cake.
Su Mo stood watching quietly from a distance, the corner of his mouth unconsciously curling up.
Well, well, a spirited young lad…
The teen was indeed agile, but he was no match for Takahashi Mitsuyo, who had trained for years. With a casual reach, Takahashi grabbed him like a chicken and lifted him up.
“I wasn’t ready that time! Again!” the teen protested, unwilling to concede.
“Fine. Again.”
The result was exactly the same.
“I still wasn’t rea—”
Before he could finish, Takahashi Mitsuyo kicked him to the ground: “No one gives you that many chances in a real life-or-death fight.”
Then his tone suddenly shifted, and he glanced at Su Mo: “Unless you have well-connected family.”
Su Mo understood immediately: So that’s why he’s so hostile—it’s about me coming in through connections.
After being roughed up, the teen, though still defiant, quieted down considerably and finally managed to stand properly.
After getting the students in line for morning training, Takahashi Mitsuyo walked over to Su Mo.
He gave Su Mo a once-over, his expression disdainful: “Soft and delicate skin. Your sister really has the heart to send you here. From now on, cleaning is your responsibility.”
Though he was being looked down on, Su Mo didn’t argue. He accepted readily.
His delicate appearance was partly due to good genes, partly because higher cultivation levels had a noticeable beautifying effect, and partly due to the Golden Skin Fruit’s efficacy. He really didn’t look like someone who practiced martial arts.
However, if he were to show the not-yet-fully-healed scars on his arms right now, the other man would probably view him in a completely different light.
Su Mo picked up a broom and began sweeping the courtyard meticulously, acting every bit the privileged connection hire.
During the lunch break, he was assigned a separate room to rest in. The conditions weren’t great, but they weren’t bad either. It had all the essentials, even a bookshelf.
Su Mo picked up a book at random and started flipping through it when he suddenly heard someone whistling outside. Then, he saw someone sneakily slip out of the martial arts hall.
Sure enough, when afternoon training began, one person was missing—the spirited kid from the morning, the one who had mouthed off. He had most likely been called out to goof around somewhere.
Takahashi Mitsuyo scowled and muttered “idiot,” then proceeded to explain the key points of the movements to the remaining students.
There were over thirty students in total. Nearly half were still in the foundational stage, spending their days mainly on horse stances and physical conditioning. The other half had no major issues with basics, but something felt off when they practiced.
It took Su Mo a while to realize what it was: they lacked killing intent.
The main goals for these young men and women were fitness and self-defense, so what they learned were mostly flashy moves without any real lethal techniques. To Su Mo, who was accustomed to life-and-death battles, this naturally looked strange.
He even felt Takahashi Mitsuyo himself wasn’t much of a master…
Just F-rank, at best.
Having a C-rank sweeping the floor for you? This must be the peak of your life!
The day passed rather dully. The only bit of entertainment was watching Takahashi Mitsuyo scold people.
It had to be said, someone who could be a martial arts instructor did have some real skills—at least when it came to the art of verbal reprimand, his prowess was undeniable.
After work, Su Mo headed home, humming a tune all the way, feeling perfectly content.
Passing by a small alley, he suddenly heard sounds of mocking laughter, as if someone was being bullied.
Being someone who enjoyed watching a bit of drama, Su Mo couldn’t resist peeking. He saw the spirited kid from earlier being pinned down and beaten by seven or eight hoodlums, blood gushing from his nose and mouth.
“Well, well, he really is ‘taking on several guys his age’,” Su Mo’s eyes lit up, and he chuckled to himself. “Just not successfully.”
Adhering to the principle of speaking up when seeing injustice, he called out: “Hey, which boss are you guys working for? Do me a favor and let him go.”
All attention shifted to him. The hoodlums wore expressions of disbelief.
Anyone who could say something like that must be from the underworld.
But since when did the underworld have such a pretty girl?