Before leaving, second brother-in-law quietly pulled Sanlang Brooks aside, deftly handed over a silver ingot weighing a full five taels, and whispered, “Sanlang, this is the private savings I’ve put aside over time. Don’t tell your sister about it.”

Sanlang Brooks hesitated, “Brother-in-law, you usually spend a lot. Why not keep it for yourself?”

He knew Casey Johnson’s character—generous and eager to help. Whenever a family in the village was in trouble, Casey Johnson would bring money over without being asked, spending it like water.

Because of this, second sister often nagged him and started to keep a tighter rein on the finances, no longer letting him spend freely.

Second brother-in-law smiled, “No matter how much I spend, it’s only right to give my brother-in-law some silver. Sanlang, I have high hopes for you. You’ll have a bright future—just don’t forget your brother-in-law.”

With things said to this point, Sanlang Brooks stopped protesting and reached out to take the silver. “Thank you, brother-in-law.”

As soon as brother-in-law walked away, second sister came over, directly handed him a heavy money pouch—at least a dozen taels. “Sanlang, mother wouldn’t accept it, so you take it. Remember to be focused and virtuous, and be more filial to mother. She’s getting old…”

Her voice choked up as she said the last sentence.

Sanlang Brooks nodded earnestly. “Don’t worry, second sister. I will.”

But second sister reminded him again, “This money is my own private savings. Don’t tell your brother-in-law.”

“Ah!”

Sanlang Brooks’s expression was odd. His second sister and brother-in-law really were a funny pair.

The two sums together made nearly twenty taels—a considerable amount. In the past, Sanlang didn’t manage household affairs and knew nothing of daily expenses; whenever he needed money, he just asked for it. But now he understood that the family’s various expenses were becoming a heavy burden, and they were close to running out of resources. He really needed to be careful.

This money came at just the right time. With twenty taels, used sparingly, he wouldn’t need to ask mother for more during the children’s exam period.

That night, a gentle breeze rose, spring rain drizzled, and from the distant Jing River came the loud, clear sound of frogs.

This night, this rain, these sounds—fresh and gentle, with a vibrant energy flowing through them.

It was already the hour of the pig, but the lamp in the room was still lit.

Under the lamp, Sanlang Brooks was fully focused, writing swiftly, practicing by composing an essay. One beautiful regular script character after another appeared on the paper, forming lines, forming paragraphs…

Chapter Seven: The Bully Shows His Might, the Beauty Passes on Her Skill

The wind was gentle, the rain continuous, and the frogs croaked in chorus.

Suddenly, the chorus of frogs seemed startled by something and became chaotic.

At the unseen Jing River, beneath the Wanqing Bridge, frogs leapt desperately from the water, scattering in all directions.

Splash!

A whirlpool rose on the river’s surface, and then a pincer as thick as a baby’s arm reached out, nimbly grabbing a frog that failed to escape.

The pincer closed slightly, instantly killing the frog. The mangled flesh was sent back into a mouth lined with sharp teeth.

Gurgle, gurgle.

Ripples spread, revealing two green, glowing eyes. A body as large as a washbasin floated and sank in the water, its full form unseen—no one could tell what kind of aquatic creature it was.

In moments, all the frogs nearby had fled, and silence fell.

But on the riverbank, dogs barked wildly.

Pop—the lamp flickered.

Sanlang Brooks heard the barking, looked up at the window, and saw only the deep, rainy night. Nothing was visible. He listened again; the barking gradually stopped.

He ignored it and continued writing quickly.

…

The rooster crowed, dawn broke faintly, and the rain had not stopped, still falling in a steady drizzle.

Sanlang Brooks woke up, got out of bed to wash, and ate breakfast.

Mrs. Brooks asked, “Yuan’er, the exam is coming up. Are you still going to the martial arts school?”

Sanlang Brooks replied, “One must persevere and not give up halfway.”

Mrs. Brooks sighed. Her son went to the martial arts school under the pretense of strengthening his body. After this period, his spirit had indeed improved, so she couldn’t object.

But all the neighborhood gossips said that Nancy Foster from the martial arts school spent all day drinking in taverns, never returning sober. She hardly looked like someone who knew martial arts—most likely just a con artist from the jianghu.

Actually, Mrs. Brooks didn’t care much whether Sanlang could learn martial arts. She was more interested in another bit of gossip: Nancy Foster’s daughter, Yvonne Foster, was a great beauty. She wondered if Sanlang had other intentions in joining the school.

After thinking for a moment, she asked, “Yuan’er, is it Master Foster teaching you martial arts, or his daughter?”

“I’ve just started and don’t know anything yet. How could I be learning real skills? I’m just practicing stances, taught by Master Foster.”

Mrs. Brooks listened, feeling inexplicably disappointed.

She had met Yvonne Foster before—indeed, a beauty, almost fairy-like. Because of her martial arts training, she was tall and graceful, with a shapely figure—clearly someone who would bear children well. The only flaw was her background in the martial arts school, which didn’t quite match her own Sanlang.

Sanlang Brooks had no idea that in the blink of an eye, his mother had thought so much. After eating, he took an oil-paper umbrella and headed out to the martial arts school.

On rainy days, there were few people on the streets.

As he walked, someone suddenly rushed out from an alley ahead and crashed solidly into him.

Sanlang Brooks fell to the ground, his umbrella crushed in an instant.

“Who doesn’t have eyes, dares to bump into your grandpa!”

The man was short and stocky, standing with hands on hips, cursing loudly.