Guard Selection

Once the mind is clear, there are no more distractions.

Su Yang composed himself and quickened his pace in sorting the medicinal herbs.

The afternoon sun shone through the window, casting dappled light on the medicine cabinet, and the pharmacy was filled with the dry, bitter scent of herbs.

After lunch, Old Zheng went out to the medicinal market in the west of the city to buy a batch of ginseng that he urgently needed. At this moment, only Su Yang was left in the pharmacy to look after the soup pots.

"Squeak!"

The slightly ajar back door was pushed open a crack, and a slender figure slipped in before quickly closing the door again.

"Honglan, what brings you here?"

Su Yang looked up and saw that it was Miss Honglan.

She wore a slightly worn, light green maid's dress, the cuffs still damp with a few drops of water. Her breathing was slightly rapid, and her cheeks were flushed from walking quickly. In the quiet afternoon, her movements were exceptionally light, like a cat treading on fallen leaves.

"Su Yang".

She clutched a small bag wrapped in a clean handkerchief tightly to her chest, the edge of the handkerchief dampened by steam. Confirming that no one was inside, she seemed to have made her final decision, and walked a few steps to Su Yang's side.

"This... is for you."

She placed the warm cloth bag into Su Yang's hands, her fingertips icy cold, carrying the chill of well water: "I... I went to the main kitchen at noon to deliver the washed clothes and helped the cook peel an extra bowl of garlic. She secretly gave me one... It was filled with meat and was still warm."

The cloth bag is warm to the touch, and you can feel the softness of the dough beneath its gentle texture.

"Honglan, this..."

Su Yang looked at the unexpected object in his hand.

"You're going to participate in the selection soon..."

Honglan interrupted him, her voice soft yet exceptionally clear. She finally raised her head, her usually downcast eyes reflecting the sunlight streaming through the window, clear and unwavering, filled only with pure worry and a touch of cautious anticipation: "Make sure you eat well, so you have strength. I... I heard them say that the selection process for the guards is very tough."

She paused, as if summoning all the courage she had ever known, her voice even softer, yet each word struck a chord deep within: "Su Yang, you will definitely be chosen! Become a guard... become a guard, escape slavery, and that will be wonderful!"

Having said that, she seemed to have used up all her strength, immediately lowered her head, took half a step back, and reverted to her usual taciturn maidservant demeanor: "I...I have to go back to the laundry room, there are still so many clothes to hang up. You...you eat quickly!"

Before Su Yang could say another word, she hurriedly turned around, opened the door, and her slender figure quickly disappeared into the bright afternoon sunlight outside, leaving only a faint scent of soapberry.

Su Yang held the warm steamed bun and stood quietly for a moment.

He untied the handkerchief, revealing a plump, white meat bun inside. The dough was soft and fluffy, exuding the aroma of wheat and a faint scent of meat. In the strictly hierarchical Huang household, the hardship a laundry maid could endure to receive such a complete meat bun was self-evident.

Without hesitation, he picked up the steamed bun and ate it in a few bites.

[Simplification point +0.2]

The dough is rich in wheat flavor, and the meat filling is perfectly savory. It's a simple dish, but the thought behind it makes it feel extra special.

The warmth settled in my stomach, dispelling the slight chill in the afternoon pharmacy.

He carefully folded the handkerchief and tucked it into his robes.

This is not a steamed bun, but a small but incredibly important support that someone silently placed in his hand at a critical juncture in his life.

...........

time flies.

The day of the selection arrived in the blink of an eye.

At 3:45 AM, in the west courtyard of the Huang residence, at the archery range.

The once-empty training ground is now a desolate place, roughly enclosed by hemp ropes.

The central loess arena, bleached white by the autumn sun, was hard and reflective. It was packed with people all around, with no fewer than seventy or eighty candidates for servants and household servants. Many more servants stood on tiptoe and craned their necks, their buzzing discussions forming a scorching wave of voices.

Under the distant pergola, several managers leisurely sipped their tea.

On the wooden platform directly north of the arena, the head instructor of the academy, Yang Yunxing, sat alone in a grand master's chair, dressed in a dark gray outfit, his back straight as a pine tree.

He kept his eyes half-closed, seemingly oblivious to the surrounding noise. Only when his gaze occasionally peeked through his eyelids, sharp as a knife, would the surrounding commotion suddenly subside.

Behind the wooden platform, Fei Jianhua was whispering something to a kind-looking guard in charge of clerks. Fei Jianhua had a stiff smile on his face, but there was no smile in his eyes, only a glint of calculation.

Su Yang stood at the back of the crowd on the east side, dressed in a clean, coarse cloth outfit.

The surrounding area was filled with excited commotion and tense shrinking, but he stood tall and calm. His gaze calmly swept over the arena, the wooden platform, and the pavilion, and also swept over Chen Le's face in the crowd, which was slightly distorted by excitement and occasionally glanced at him with malice.

Finally, he lowered his eyes and looked at his steadily outstretched hands.

His knuckles were distinct, concealing an explosive power that had evolved from the Tiger Style Fist but was not yet fully mastered. The clean handkerchief in his bosom was pressed tightly against his chest, still retaining the warmth of the afternoon sun and the steamed bun from that day.

He slowly clenched his fist.

"Click."

The joints cracked softly, almost imperceptibly, yet with an unusually solid feel.

The complete Tiger-shaped Fist intent within the body is like a deep pool, surging calmly yet powerfully.

His five senses were heightened to an unprecedented level of sharpness. He could even clearly detect the slight tremor of excitement in Chen Le's heavy breathing from a dozen steps away, and feel countless gazes around him, some curious, some scrutinizing, and some malicious, falling on him as if they were real.

The time has come.

Just now.

On the wooden platform, Yang Yunxing, the instructor who looked like a stone statue, slowly and completely opened his eyes.

He didn't get up, and he didn't scold him.

But what suddenly burst forth from those fully open eyes was a coldness and majesty born of years of battle and bloodshed, like a long sword drawn from its sheath, instantly cleaving through all the noise on the field!

"quiet."

The two words, though not loud, possessed a strange penetrating power, clearly overwhelming all other sounds and drilling into everyone's ears.

The entire room fell into a deathly silence.

All eyes turned to that dark, cold face.

Yang Yunxing stood up and walked to the edge of the wooden platform.

He wasn't particularly tall, but standing there, he exuded a natural, mountain-like sense of oppression.

"Today's selection of guards is to strengthen the manor's military capabilities and protect the peace of our home." He began, his voice steady and without unnecessary words: "Those who pass the selection will immediately be freed from slavery and become guards of the manor, enjoying guard pay, clothing, and food, and will be able to learn more advanced martial arts."

A few words were enough to make all the candidates in the audience breathe heavily, and their eyes ignited with a burning passion.

Free yourself from slavery!

Practice martial arts!

This is an incredible opportunity that most of them wouldn't even dare to dream of!

"The selection process will only test one thing!"

Yang Yunxing's voice boomed like a bell, silencing all the noise: "Strength!"

"There are three pairs of stone weights in the arena: weighing 60 jin, 90 jin, and 120 jin respectively!"

Each time he announced a number, a gasp rippled through the audience.

One hundred and twenty jin!

That was a level that only the most elite soldiers in the army could reach.

"Those who can lift sixty catties ten times can be retained as auxiliary soldiers, with a monthly allowance of five hundred cash, meals provided, and training provided. In the future, the best will be selected for regular service."

"Anyone who can lift 90 jin ten times will be directly selected as a formal guard, with a monthly stipend of one tael and five mace, and will learn martial arts!"

"As for this 120 jin..." Yang Yunxing's gaze swept across the entire room like lightning, his tone suddenly rising, carrying a confident allure: "If anyone can lift it, not even ten times, just once overhead and set it down steadily—their monthly allowance will be set at two taels! In addition, they will receive an extra five taels of silver, and I will personally guide them for three months!"

As soon as he finished speaking, the entire room erupted in uproar!

Five taels of silver!

The coach personally provided guidance!

This is no longer just a selection process; it's a reward of a fortune for a horse's bones!

The Huang family's eagerness to recruit talent and their willingness to offer generous rewards were clearly evident.

Yang Yunxing was very satisfied with the result.

With chaos looming, what he needed was this ruthlessness, this fierce man who could intimidate the villains.

"There's only one rule: lift it up, put it down, don't let it slip, and don't let it fall to the ground."

His voice was as firm as iron, booming, "Now, begin!"

A guard, holding a roster, began to call out the names aloud.

Those called forward, whether nervously or excitedly, stepped forward and, under the watchful eyes of countless people, grabbed the heavy stone locks.

"drink!"

The first servant to go up turned red in the face and struggled to lift it. By the eighth time, his arms were trembling violently. On the tenth time, he almost used his back to lift it. The stone weight hit the ground with a loud thud, and he staggered. He barely made it through and was already drenched in sweat.

The next few people, some gave up after the fifth attempt due to exhaustion, some dropped the stone weight on the ninth attempt, hitting their feet and crying out in pain before leaving the stage, and some barely managed to complete the task but in a disheveled state.

Only two or three out of ten pass the test, making the elimination rate extremely high. Sighs of regret or relief could be heard from the sidelines from time to time.

Chen Le was called in earlier.

He took a deep breath, stepped forward, and steadily lifted the 60-pound weight ten times. Although he could be seen gritting his teeth and persevering in the last two lifts, he managed to complete them without looking too bad.

As he stepped off the stage, he glanced defiantly in Su Yang's direction, only to find that the other man hadn't even looked at him, but was calmly staring at the ring. He felt a surge of frustration.

"Next up, Su Yang!"

The name was sung.

In an instant, almost everyone's eyes were on him.

The bizarre scene during the registration the day before yesterday had already spread, and now everyone wanted to see just how capable this medicine boy, who was said to have "terrified Chen Le with one glance," really was.

Su Yang remained calm and strode out of the crowd.

His steps were not fast, but unusually steady, each step as if measured, carrying a peculiar rhythm. When he reached the pair of heavy, 120-pound stone locks, he did not take a deep breath and gather his strength like the others, but simply bent his knees slightly, stretched out his hands, and grasped the cold lock handles.

It feels cold and rough to the touch.

Su Yang gripped the lock handle, his limbs brimming with immense strength. He was absolutely certain he could lift the stone locks ten times, or even more, with the ease of a toy.

But is it necessary?

His goal was clear: to become a formal bodyguard, earn five taels of silver, and receive personal instruction in martial arts from Instructor Yang. A single lift of 120 jin was enough to achieve all his objectives, even exceeding them—the extra reward and personal instruction were specifically designed for this one move.

Ten times?

That was no longer a genius or a fierce soldier; that was a prodigy, something beyond the realm of reason. In a deep and secluded mansion like the Huang residence, revealing one's true strength too early might not be a blessing. Countless gazes would shift from curiosity to investigation, from envy to jealousy, and even fear. The relationships within the mansion were deeply intertwined, and for a medicine boy with no connections to suddenly gain such attention, trouble would likely befall him before he even had a chance to enjoy the reward.

Conceal your sharpness by appearing blunt, and show weakness to the enemy.

This is the health preservation principle contained in Zheng Lao's medicinal cuisine, and perhaps it is also the way to survive in this world.

Just once, just right.

Make it look difficult, make it look like you're giving it your all, make it seem like this is your limit. Get what you deserve, avoid the unnecessary, and that's it!

Once the mind is set, the power follows the mind.

The surging force instantly subsided by most of its original size, leaving only enough power to support the "one move" and to be perfectly controlled.

Then, under everyone's gaze, he took a deep breath, his facial muscles tensing slightly, and the muscles in his arms bulging clearly beneath his shirt. With a powerful thrust of his waist, the stone lock lifted off the ground with a resounding thud; the movement was solid and forceful, far from light and agile.

The moment the stone lock passed overhead, his arms visibly paused, the veins on the back of his hands bulging, as if he were resisting an invisible pressure. He steadily, even somewhat sluggishly, held the heavy object in place for a moment.

The sunlight illuminated the fine beads of sweat that quickly appeared on his forehead, and also revealed the slight opening and closing of his nostrils as he strained. His chest heaved, and his breathing became noticeably heavier for a fleeting moment.

Then, he slowly and steadily lowered the stone lock down, as if each inch it sank required extra control. Only when the bottom of the stone lock made a muffled "thud" and firmly embedded itself in the ground did he exhale a long breath of stale air mixed with white mist.

He released his grip and stood there, his chest rising and falling slightly. He raised his hand to wipe the sweat that was almost dripping down his chin. His face was flushed from the exertion, his breathing was not yet fully calm, and he exuded a genuine sense of exhaustion, as if he had just gone through an extreme ordeal.

He looked up at the nurse calling out names, his gaze still calm, but beneath that calm was an undisguised perseverance after exhaustion.

The entire room fell silent.

now.

To outsiders, he lifted 120 pounds, using all his strength and pushing himself to the limit.

"He actually lifted it! It looked difficult!"

"He's a real man! He just kept pushing through!"

"He should take these five taels of silver!"

Under the pergola, the managers exchanged glances and nodded slightly.

Behind the wooden platform, Fei Jianhua's tense lips relaxed slightly.

once?

He squinted at Su Yang, who was panting and wiping away sweat in the arena—his face was flushed, his breathing was heavy, and his arms were trembling. He certainly looked exhausted.

"Looks like that's how it is," he thought with a cold laugh.

He's quite strong, but not to the point where he needs to pay special attention to him.

The strange occurrence the other day was indeed due to Chen Le, that good-for-nothing, scaring himself out of his wits.

Yeah.

A genius who "just meets" the standard is always easier to handle than a "heaven-defying" prodigy. He'd secured the instructor's favor and the five taels of silver, but whether he could hold onto them in this secluded mansion was another matter entirely.

He picked up the herbal tea, took a sip, and glanced at Chen Le, who was pale-faced not far away. He already had a plan in mind.

"Good lad!"

Yang Yunxing, who remained seated throughout, had eyes as sharp as a hawk's.

He saw the steady pause of the arm as it passed overhead, the timing and density of the sweat beads, and the excessively even control as it was lowered.

This young man is hiding his true abilities.

But it was concealed perfectly, demonstrating the strength to be selected and receive a hefty reward without unduly provoking others. This precise control of power and the ability to assess situations accurately…

A deep sense of approval flashed across Yang Yunxing's eyes.

"good!"

He stood up and strode into the center of the field.

"One hundred and twenty pounds, passed the test in one go."

His voice was loud and clear. He patted Su Yang's sweaty shoulder and said, "You're strong and can hold your ground. You're a good prospect!"

"From this day forward, you are officially a bodyguard of the Huang family! You are awarded five taels of silver. Starting tomorrow, at Chenshi (7-9 AM) in the training ground, I will personally instruct you!"

He paused, looked into Su Yang's eyes, and said in a low but clear voice, "With me, you can do whatever you want. What I want to see is all of you."

Su Yang's heart stirred slightly. He raised his eyes to meet Yang Yunxing's sharp yet unmalicious gaze and nodded frankly, "This disciple understands!"