Chapter Fifty-Four: An Invitation from Mr. Fox

Earlier, Liu Lei had only caught a fleeting glimpse of the second half of "Journey to the West" and, though he had barely skimmed its pages, the few words he read had piqued his interest greatly.

Now, upon hearing Feng Jingzhe's critique, he felt a deep sense of puzzlement.

"Brother Feng, I just glanced over it, and the prose in that book is concise, the phrasing and structure display the hand of a true master. Truly, it's an exceptional work, a rare and fine piece of writing..."

"Heh... That's exactly the problem! It's too good of an essay! This 'Journey to the West'—damn it, is it supposed to be a story or not? We're not taking the imperial exams here; the flaw lies precisely in its conciseness. Take the grand 'Havoc in Heaven'—so many twists and climaxes, but all the book offers are six words: 'The cosmos trembles, the Jade Emperor is shocked.' Only you scholars would appreciate something like that."

Feng Jingzhe couldn't be bothered to continue complaining. He waved his hand dismissively, intent on leaving. He was pressed for time and had no patience for further delays.

"Brother Feng, wait. If what you say is true, and 'Journey to the West' is such a splendid story, why not publish the entire thing? Not too many volumes, just three: upper, middle, and lower. You know, storybooks and plays are selling like hotcakes in Chang'an these days..."

Just as he was about to mount his blue mule, Feng Jingzhe froze. He turned back to Liu Lei, as if trying to read something from his face.

"Brother Liu, you have a real knack for business. Everything you see turns into a money-making venture. But your idea is a bit conservative. If it were up to me, I wouldn't bother with three volumes. I'd sell it chapter by chapter—a thousand words per chapter, drag out a story for three to five years..."

He had meant it as a casual jest, but to Liu Lei, these words struck like thunder, igniting his spirits.

"Brother Feng, can a story really be sold like that? And for three to five years? That would be a lucrative business indeed... Brother Feng..."

"Uh... I was just speaking off the cuff, don't take it too seriously..."

Seeing Feng Jingzhe's evasive attitude, Liu Lei instinctively assumed he was about to cut him out and go into business with Sun Fugui alone.

"Don't! Brother Feng, I've always been on your side from the start! Just like with the medicinal herbs last time, I was the first to invest, wasn't I? Give me a chance, Brother Feng, take me along..."

Liu Lei was in a hurry—he was the second son of the Liu family of Runan, born of a concubine. In matters of inheritance, there was still a legitimate elder brother above him. He desperately needed to prove his worth, or else when the time came, the vast Liu family estate might have nothing to do with him.

As his arm was tightly gripped, and seeing the man’s eyes redden, his voice trembling with the threat of tears, Feng Jingzhe could only sigh in resignation.

"This matter isn't as simple as just selling a story. It can't be explained in a few words. Tomorrow, go find Sun Fugui, and we'll seek out a quiet place to discuss it in detail..."

"We have just the place! Come to my place... It's perfect for business discussions..."

At this, Meng Xiaodie, who had been listening nearby, eagerly volunteered.

"Alright, let's leave it at that. I have matters to attend to, we'll talk later..."

"Wait, Young Master Feng, if you're going to sell the story, what about Tang Hongdou..."

Meng Xiaodie called out in a fluster, but Feng Jingzhe was already on his blue mule, replying carelessly, "No rush. Let the bullets fly for a while. The greater the hype, the harder the fall..."

At this stage, he had no intention of revealing to those so-called scholars that the story arc in the Women's Kingdom still held a beautiful song. Once that song was released, it would be a knockout blow...

More than half an hour later, on the gambling house arena, the man known as Diga was once again pinned to the ground and beaten mercilessly.

The odd part was, while the one taking the beating kept cursing and shouting, the one delivering the blows was sweating profusely and gasping for breath. Anyone unaware would have thought he was the one being pummeled.

As Feng Jingzhe felt the fists raining down on him growing weaker and more sluggish, he had no choice but to raise his left hand in surrender.

Judging by the results, these recent sessions of seeking out punishment were no longer having the desired effect. His self-healing had improved, and his body—flesh and skin—had grown tougher. Now, after just the second match, the third and those to follow would serve little purpose at this level of training.

Swaggering as he opened the iron cage and stepped off the ring, he was pondering what new methods to employ for further growth when a young attendant stopped him.

"Sir Diga, please wait. My master invites you upstairs for a discussion..."

"Who is your master? Can't we talk here..."

Feng Jingzhe's instincts pricked with caution. He wasn't afraid of danger—in fact, he almost welcomed it—but he was wary of his identity being exposed.

"Don't worry, sir. My master is the proprietor of this gambling house. He wishes to discuss a transaction with you, and assures you won't regret coming up..."

Sensing something, Feng Jingzhe looked up toward one of the private rooms behind the wooden railing on the second floor.

At that very moment, his gaze met that of a masked man. To his surprise, the man wore an eye patch, apparently blind in one eye. Feng Jingzhe had a hunch—the wine cup that had suddenly rescued Li Xiaodao in the ring months ago must have been thrown by this man.

"Very well, lead the way..."

The other was masked as well, indicating that their upcoming conversation was nothing more than a business deal.

Feng Jingzhe was soon led to a private room upstairs. Intriguingly, there was a small door inside. Through the door, the room was brightly lit, the air carrying a faint scent of sandalwood—clearly, the candles were no cheap fare.

"Hahaha... Diga, is it? That's a unique nickname! Let me introduce myself—you may call me Mr. Fox, as others do."

The one-eyed man’s voice was rough, his laughter hearty and forthright.

"And what business does Mr. Fox have with me?"

Feng Jingzhe's voice was even rougher than his counterpart's. One had to master such tricks when out in the world.

"Hahaha... Straightforward men, both of us. Let's not waste words. Brother Diga, I've been observing you for some time. If I'm not mistaken, you don't come to the gambling house for the trivial prize money, but to temper your body, am I right?"

This was not hard to deduce, nor was it much of a secret. After all, who else would come so often just to get beaten up?

"No need to deny it. Men like you, who try to break through by tempering the body, I've known at least a hundred. Yet none have ever succeeded in advancing from the Bronze-skin stage to Stone-cracking."

Feng Jingzhe was in no rush to speak, so he let the other man have his say.

"You have the toughest body I've ever seen. In plain terms, you're durable, built to endure. I need that resilience for a match I want you to fight for me..."

Mr. Fox was confident, as if certain Feng Jingzhe would not refuse.

"If you want my help, shouldn't we talk terms first?"

Feng Jingzhe spread his hands, noncommittal.

"For someone like you, talking about money would be an insult. What I offer is a complete martial art manual—one that can take you from the Bronze-skin stage straight through to Stone-cracking..."