Chapter Three: The Golden Finger, Now on Auto-Pilot

After the time it took to finish a cup of tea, Chen Fan walked out of the alley, carefully tucked the "Fierce Tiger Fist" manual into the bundle pressed against his chest, and turned to leave.

Back in the alley, the disheveled man rubbed the two pieces of broken silver in his hand, shook his head with a smile, and muttered, "Poor kid..."

He meandered through the winding alleyways, but suddenly stopped in his tracks. Turning back with a resigned look, he found a young man in a blue robe silently following him.

The disheveled man narrowed his eyes and laughed, "Junior brother, your Shadowless Steps are getting ever more refined. I think you’re already close to the 'Subtle' realm, aren’t you?"

The blue-robed youth did not reply. He looked at the broken silver in the man's hand and sighed, "Senior brother, did you swindle someone again?"

At these words, the disheveled man looked a bit embarrassed. "How can you call it a swindle? It was a fair deal—he wanted it, I sold it. Besides, the manual I sold wasn’t a fake! And I didn’t pass off any of Flying Tiger Sect’s core techniques..."

The "Fierce Tiger Fist" was certainly authentic, and it was indeed suitable for beginners. But it was hardly rare or precious. In Feiling County, no martial household, school, or sect lacked this art in their library! In fact, if one enrolled in a martial hall, these types of techniques were freely available for students to choose from.

Compared to other strength-training arts of its level, the power and effect of this fist technique were decent, but they still fell short of any core family skills. Adequate, but not outstanding.

Ultimately, martial cultivation required nurturing the body from a young age, guidance from a teacher, and a balanced, nourishing diet. If one joined a martial hall, instructors would provide guidance and even special herbal broths to aid in training. Without a capable teacher and proper resources, the manual itself meant little.

Techniques like the Fierce Tiger Fist were studied every year by disciples in many martial halls and households, yet not all could master them. The true value of the halls lay in their instruction.

And these were only the basic fist techniques—if it were some sect-secret art, dozens or even hundreds of silver taels wouldn't buy it, and the disheveled man would never dare sell such things so casually.

He chuckled, "Training in martial arts requires money too, doesn’t it? If I can earn a bit more each month, that’s more resources for me to improve. If I can break through to the fourth level of martial cultivation, then next time I attend an exchange in Yan Capital, I can restore Flying Tiger Sect’s reputation..."

The blue-robed youth narrowed his eyes and sighed deeply, saying no more.

...

Clutching the manual tightly to his chest, Chen Fan hurried home to his small courtyard, and began poring over the "Fierce Tiger Fist."

He was naturally sharp and quick-witted. Before long, he had memorized all the diagrams and important points.

Stepping out into the yard, Chen Fan recalled the essentials of the technique: the Fierce Tiger Fist consisted of five forms, all modeled after the pouncing and striking of a tiger.

He conjured up memories of tigers he had seen in city zoos in his previous life, feeling a surge of excitement. Then he opened his eyes and thrust a fist forward.

Following the instructions precisely, he practiced all five forms of the fist method. Only then did the string of characters before his eyes change:

[Fierce Tiger Fist: First Form (Auto-training in progress)]
[Progress: 1%]

Chen Fan was stunned, then overjoyed.

So, unlocking the skill only required performing all the movements at least once!

"Does auto-training mean my martial arts progress increases even if I do nothing at all?" Chen Fan wondered silently.

"I wonder how efficient auto-training is?"

As the thought crossed his mind, the characters flickered, and new information appeared:

[Current auto-training efficiency for Fierce Tiger Fist: 9.5% per day]

Suppressing his excitement, Chen Fan waited a little over an hour. As expected, his training progress increased to 2%. He could clearly sense his improvement in the fist technique, or perhaps it was just his imagination.

"Just as I thought. Nearly 10% a day—by this calculation, I’ll master the first form in just over ten days. With all five forms, I’ll have them down in about two months..."

Chen Fan knew little of martial arts, so he had no idea whether this was fast or slow, but he was encouraged.

Staring at the mysterious interface before him, he thought, "I wonder if there’s a way to boost my progress and efficiency..."

Narrowing his eyes, he decided to practice the forms physically as well. If he trained while auto-training, the progress should stack and speed up.

So, following the manual, he punched again and again.

Unfortunately, his current progress was too low, and his body was still thin and weak. The forms remained stiff and awkward, and his punches soft and powerless.

Another hour passed. When the first form reached 3%, the time didn’t seem to have shortened much, nor did the efficiency change.

Chen Fan sheepishly stopped training.

"Hardly any progress at all..."

There were two possibilities: either his progress was independent of his own efforts, or his natural aptitude was so poor that any bonus was too slight to notice.

Either way, there was little point in practicing hard. Chen Fan felt frustrated.

Just then, his stomach growled loudly—a fierce hunger overtook him.

He was taken aback. "I had breakfast in town, and it’s only just past midday. Why am I so hungry? Could it be that auto-training martial arts consumes energy?"

It was still a while before noon, but Chen Fan was already so hungry he could hardly stand it. He rushed to the kitchen and ate the last two flatbreads, but they didn’t satisfy him. He then boiled last night’s leftover meat, finally filling his stomach.

Sated, Chen Fan couldn’t help but sigh as he cradled the bowl of broth. "This is all money..."

Another hour passed, and his Fierce Tiger Fist reached 4%.

"Being able to train on auto means I don’t have to delay my work. It’s truly convenient."

Thinking of his job, Chen Fan grew even more resigned. In this rigidly hierarchical, feudal world, no matter how many ways he could imagine to make money, none were actually feasible.

The bookkeeper’s job he currently held, which paid three taels of silver a month—far above a laborer’s wage—was already a generous sum. But not all of it could be spent on food, and even eating meat every day was hard to guarantee.

And to pursue martial arts, he needed even more funds. If he wanted to join a martial hall—not even the prestigious White Cloud Hall, but something like Flying Tiger Sect—it would still require considerable money.

"As the saying goes, ‘the poor study literature, the rich study martial arts’—it’s not without reason!"

The pressure of those twenty taels he owed to Pi Liu loomed in his mind, and a trace of ruthless determination arose in his heart.

...

After starting auto-training, Chen Fan found himself constantly hungry. He spent money on stacks of flatbreads and dried meat to carry with him, eating whenever hunger struck.

In the blink of an eye, ten days had passed. The progress of the first form of Fierce Tiger Fist steadily rose, finally reaching 100%, and auto-training for the second form began.

The efficiency of the second form was no different from the first. All five forms were parallel techniques, not increasingly difficult ones.

At dawn, Chen Fan was in the courtyard, practicing the first form of Fierce Tiger Fist. He settled into a horse stance, body slightly arched, every part of him aligned precisely as the manual described.

Crack!

He punched out, and the air whistled. The movement was smooth and powerful, without the slightest stiffness. He even felt as if his body had developed muscle memory, as though he had been practicing this technique for years.

"Truly amazing!"

Although the other four forms were still at a mediocre level, this one form filled him with confidence. It was a strange and wonderful feeling. He felt that if he punched with full force, he could put a hole in his wooden door.

Of course, he didn’t actually try it.

In that moment, he couldn’t help but recall Li Lin’s effortless palm strike on the main street, and his pride immediately vanished. The gap was still immense.

"I wonder if I can handle Pi Liu and his gang..."

Chen Fan narrowed his eyes. In a world where martial artists possessed such wonders, he could not help but feel greater awe toward the so-called Black Tiger Gang.

Pi Liu might not be a big deal in the Black Tiger Gang, but he might have learned a move or two.

"I need to find a way to figure out what that guy is capable of..."