“These characters, I’ve pretty much mastered by now. Anywhere you go, words and knowledge are always the most fundamental prerequisites for mastering everything.”

Henry Webb lowered his head, using his finger to write and draw on the dust-covered ground, practicing the characters he had learned before.

“Henry Webb!” Suddenly, a half-grown child with pigtails sneaked over to his side and called out.

“This is for today.” The pigtails kid pulled out a rolled-up scroll of paper hidden in his arms and tossed it into Henry Webb’s lap.

“Same old rule, half a tael of silver for every hundred characters.” Henry Webb said calmly. Silver wasn’t worth much these days; if he didn’t charge a bit more, he really wouldn’t be able to save up any money.

“Alright, alright! Just hurry up, the teacher needs it first thing in the morning.” The pigtails kid lowered his voice, fished out a piece of broken silver from his clothes, and threw it to Henry Webb. Then he swaggered off.

This was ghostwriting homework.

It was a side job Henry Webb picked up while sneaking in to study.

The pigtails kid’s name was Brian Reed, the only son of a wealthy merchant family in Feiye City, and he was quite generous.

Henry Webb put away the silver and did some quick calculations.

“With this, I’m almost able to afford the tuition to learn Huishan Fist from Old Man Grant.”

Since he had a golden finger, he naturally wouldn’t give up on unlocking it so easily.

The information from the Breaking Boundary Pearl mentioned that it was about breaking through martial arts boundaries. Henry Webb had tried practicing some basic freehand fighting techniques under his eldest sister’s training, but none of it worked.

Later, from his eldest sister, he learned that there were some people in the world who had mastered a method called internal training.

These people were the true masters of the world, just like those in the Blackwater Gang where his eldest sister belonged—there were such experts among them.

But internal training methods were rarely passed on to outsiders. It was only through his eldest sister’s connections that Henry Webb managed, after searching for over a month, to find a place nearby that could teach internal training—Old Man Grant’s place.

But the tuition there was not cheap.

Chapter 2: Hope

Henry Webb didn’t just take on the pigtails kid’s homework here; there were three other children who came to him for ghostwriting as well.

All because of a special skill from his previous life: he could mimic different handwriting styles, and imitating a child’s handwriting was even easier.

After collecting a pile of homework scrolls, Henry Webb rolled them up, hid them inside his clothes, stood up, and quickly headed home.

As he passed by the riverside stone bridge street, he heard faint sounds of commotion coming from the weeds along the riverbank.

Mixed in were a woman’s cries and a man’s angry roars, along with the harsh sounds of sticks beating against human bodies.

Henry Webb paused for a moment, then quickened his pace to skirt around the area.

The scripture hall was in the inner city, which was very safe, with officers patrolling at all times.

But his home was in the slums, which were much more chaotic.

This stone bridge street was already within the slum area.

Back home, Henry Webb used a charcoal pencil he had prepared earlier to finish all the homework one by one. Then he patted off the charcoal dust and rolled everything up again for safekeeping.

Second sister Emily Webb used some stored vegetables to make a dish and a soup. The two of them sat at the table, waiting for the rest of the family to return.

The sky gradually darkened.

Eldest sister Charles Webb still hadn’t come back.

There was no news from their parents either.

Henry Webb’s parents were both craftsmen, specializing in carving stone statues for others. Lately, they had been working on carving Buddha statues for Mingde Temple outside the city.

“Mom and Dad probably have to stay at the temple again tonight,” second sister Emily Webb said softly. “But why isn’t big sister back yet?”

Eldest sister Charles Webb always came home every day.

“……”

Henry Webb didn’t say anything. He looked up at the window; the sun was almost completely set and could no longer be seen.

The wind blowing in had turned chilly, and there was a faint aroma of cooking from other households.

“Big sister always comes home at this time,” Emily Webb glanced at her younger brother and murmured softly, as if speaking to Henry Webb, or perhaps just talking to herself.

“I’ll go take a look. You stay home and don’t go anywhere,” Henry Webb stood up. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong, and he felt uneasy.

“Go and come back quickly,” Emily Webb urged.

“Mm.”

Henry Webb put on a coat. Though it was full of patches, at least it kept him warm.

He pushed open the wooden door and immediately saw, at the entrance of the alley to the right, a few tall, burly men standing there.

There were three of them in total, dressed in gray short jackets, their arms exposed, muscles bulging under their dark skin.

Henry Webb recognized all three—they were the notorious local thugs: William Brooks and his two lackeys.

William Brooks didn’t work or do anything productive, just loafed around all day. No one knew where he got his money to live, yet he was so robust.

But Henry Webb had heard rumors that some people suspected William Brooks was connected to the thieves’ gang. He often helped them by stealing people—secretly abducting and delivering them to the gang to be sold off.

They wanted children, single women, and even some good-looking men.

None of that really mattered, but the key point was that William Brooks had once seen Henry Webb’s second sister Emily Webb, and after that, he often hung around the area.

Later, he even had a run-in with eldest sister Charles Webb, which made him back off a bit.

Charles Webb was with the Blackwater Gang. Although she wasn’t a leader, she wasn’t someone a mere thug like him could bully.

Since then, William Brooks only came around when Charles Webb wasn’t home.

From a distance, Henry Webb looked over and happened to meet the eyes of the short-haired, muscular William Brooks.