Martial Arts, You can't practice what you want.

So a big box of martial arts secret manuals really surprised Wang Xiaoer.

Just a month ago, the nine-year-old Wang Xiaoer immediately had a question: Where did Master get so many secret manuals from?

So that night in the secret chamber, Wang Xiaoer asked, "Master, where did you get so many secret manuals from?"

Zhang San answered very calmly, "I bought them."

Wang Xiaoer's understanding of the martial world came mostly from his dad and various storybooks. He asked in confusion, "Isn't each sect's martial arts secret manual a legendary object? How could they be sold?"

After Wang Xiaoer spoke, Zhang San took out a sword art secret manual from the Star Sea Sect, which used to be the number one orthodox sect, White Sect.

Wang Xiaoer was stunned in place.

On the contrary, Zhang San, looking at the dazed Wang Xiaoer, lamented that outsiders indeed had huge misunderstandings about martial arts.

Zhang San said to Wang Xiaoer, "Little Er, do you know? Martial arts and literature are actually quite similar."

Wang Xiaoer said, "Huh?"

Zhang San said solemnly, "Let me explain it this way. If I put the Four Books and Five Classics in front of you, and after you finish reading them, I give you an exam paper, can you guarantee you'll get full marks? Or will you certainly pass the imperial examination?"

Wang Xiaoer scratched his head and said, "I probably...can't."

Zhang San nodded and said, "That's right. Knowledge and answers are actually all in the books. Which student hasn't read them? But why have some people studied for twelve years and still can't even get into our county's Qinghua Academy, when the answers are clearly all in the books?"

Wang Xiaoer said, "Master means..."

Zhang San said seriously, "Little Er, you're a smart kid. How can you not understand this? At its peak, the orthodox White Sect certainly had to be mystical, so more people would come to them as disciples and give them red envelopes and disciple gifts. Now the White Sect has declined, so of course they'll sell anything they can. Secret manuals are the same."

Wang Xiaoer scratched his head and said, "How is this like a money shop going bankrupt so they sell their abacuses?"

Zhang San scolded with a laugh, "What did you think? The orthodox and unorthodox sects are all just business deals. Without money, no sect can keep their mountain gate open."

"Alright, stop thinking so much. Go through all these secret manuals, it will definitely help your future martial arts training." Zhang San instructed.

Then Zhang San took Wang Xiaoer, who was holding several sword art manuals, and left the secret chamber.

At night, Zhang San snored loudly asleep while Wang Xiaoer stayed up late reading attentively by the oil lamp.

...

...

The next few days at the bookstore were peaceful.

Zhang San sold paintings that didn't sell well, while Wang Xiaoer spent every day immersed in all kinds of martial arts books, even turning down invitations from the neighborhood girls to come out and play.

Zhang San was very pleased by this.

He just didn't know if he was pleased that Wang Xiaoer had listened to his advice to stay away from women, or that Wang Xiaoer was so diligent in his studies.

As for Zhang San himself, he always seemed lazy. Although he did practice martial arts, it was only for a short while late at night when everyone was asleep. Wang Xiaoer had even asked Zhang San why he didn't practice more diligently, like his dad who trained day and night without stopping.

Zhang San said hard work was for people with insufficient talent. For a genius like him who received such a gift from heaven, of course he should spend his time on more meaningful things.

Like sleeping.

However, seven days later, while Zhang San was sleeping in the bookstore and Wang Xiaoer was crouching in the corner reading, they suddenly heard a commotion outside on the street...

Zhang San actually had no interest in street gossip, but thanks to his extremely high martial arts skills and the sensitivity honed from years as an assassin, whether he wanted to or not, Zhang San could hear the street chatter clearly.

It turned out what had people talking was a rare homicide case in the county!

To be honest, in this age of oppressive taxes and rampant organized crime, homicide cases weren't particularly rare events in county cities, unless it was an especially poor and destitute village.

But this time, the victim was an officer from the yamen, a bailiff named Wang Hu.

In the martial country of Dawu, every county bailiff was at least in the mid-stage of the human order, if not late stage, and also an official. The unorthodox Black Sect usually didn't dare touch such people.

Moreover, it was said the new county magistrate had received his official seal of office directly from the district governor, indicating the close relationship between the two. From how the new county magistrate had replaced all the yamen staff with his own trusted followers on his very first day in office, it was clear he was quite influential.

And in that group of people brought in by the new county magistrate, there was no one stronger in martial arts than this bailiff Wang Hu.

Some even said this bailiff actually had earth order martial arts.

But after just a few days as bailiff, Wang Hu had been killed. How could this not surprise people?

Listening to the street chatter, Zhang San recalled seeing a man in bailiff's clothing following the new county magistrate during his inaugural procession around town.

Zhang San murmured, "Too bad I couldn't hear his breathing or get close, but just looking at his build, the thickness of those arms, and the quality of that heavy blade at his waist, at minimum that Wang Hu was in the late stage of the human order. Even mid stage of the earth order is possible."

With his deep understanding of the various martial arts sects, Zhang San had discerning eyes.

And a suspected mid to late earth order, at minimum late human order master bladesmith, had died within days of becoming bailiff.

Moreover, from what the townspeople were saying, the bailiff seemed to have died from a stab wound to the chest from a sword or dagger-like weapon, and there were signs of an intense struggle at the scene, ruling out a sneak attack or poisoning.

Zhang San had lived in this small county for over ten years. He was confident that in a direct confrontation, there was no one in this county city besides himself who could have killed that bailiff.

Of course, except for that Xiu Wangchou who had come to town with a Star Sea Sect sword some days ago.

Half-reclining in his armchair, Zhang San muttered, "Could it have been him? Looks like trouble is brewing."