“Seriously, you have way too many hobbies,” Lin Wan said, looking at Lu Zheng in disbelief. “Do you have some kind of system or something?”
Lu Zheng stumbled at her words. “Weren’t you reading martial arts novels? Since when did you start reading web novels?”
“My mum reads them, so why can’t I?” Lin Wan retorted. “Martial arts, medicine, magic, calligraphy, piano… what other skills haven’t you shown off in front of me?”
“Tch, you’re a police officer. What could I possibly hide from you?” Lu Zheng teased with a grin.
“Is that sarcasm? That’s definitely sarcasm, isn’t it?” Lin Wan narrowed her eyes.
Lu Zheng raised an eyebrow. “Think about it. What do all these things have in common?”
Lin Wan clenched her small fists, making a creaking sound, then thought for a moment. “They’re all related to muscle control?”
Lu Zheng gave her a look of approval, like a teacher proud of a student. “And intent.”
“Intent?” Lin Wan asked.
“Practising *Mountain Bearing* all the time makes grasping intent easier, doesn’t it?” Lu Zheng explained.
“Is that… how it works?” Lin Wan said, still doubtful.
“Martial arts and medicine are obvious. Those come from years of hard work, bit by bit,” Lu Zheng said seriously.
The jade seal remained silent.
“Yep, exactly,” Lin Wan nodded, accepting his explanation.
“You know about the magic,” Lu Zheng continued.
“Pfft,” Lin Wan burst out laughing, recalling how that Japanese female magician had been completely fooled.
“As for calligraphy and piano, those artistic things are similar. It’s all about practice and emotional investment,” Lu Zheng explained. “The *Eighteen Styles of Mountain Bearing* is way harder than writing or playing the piano. If I can master martial arts, with all the intent and movement control that requires, then calligraphy and piano are perfectly scientific and reasonable, right?”
“Right… I guess?” Lin Wan nodded, finding his logic somewhat convincing.
It was certainly more reasonable than crafting a nuclear bomb from scratch. A university student building a Gundam or a reactor? *That* would definitely mean they had a system.
“Exactly. So, in theory, if you master something as difficult as the *Eighteen Styles*, calligraphy and piano are simple skills you can pick up in no time,” Lu Zheng said matter-of-factly. “You might not reach Yan Zhenqing or Beethoven’s level, but surpassing the average person by a mile is no problem.”
Lin Wan nodded, still a bit dazed. She hadn’t mastered it yet, so she could only listen, but it seemed… reasonable enough?
“Of course, theory is theory, and practice is practice. I’m just one example, so maybe I’m a genius,” Lu Zheng said with a wink. “So don’t put too much pressure on yourself.”
Lin Wan glared at him. “What’s that supposed to mean? Underestimating me? Just wait. Once I master *Eighteen Styles*, I’ll learn calligraphy and piano in no time too.”
“Absolutely. You’ve got this. Keep at it,” Lu Zheng said, clenching his fist encouragingly.
“Home. Practice,” Lin Wan declared, pulling Lu Zheng along, excitedly taking out her phone to call a cab.
“Don’t forget to wear the Hanfu. It feels right for practising national arts,” Lu Zheng reminded her.
“Drop dead,” Lin Wan shot back.
…
The next day, Lin Wan went to work, while Lu Zheng lay in bed, chatting with his mum on the phone before getting up to wash and prepare to travel to the ancient world. Just as he was about to cross over, his phone rang.
“Hello, Mr. Liu?” Lu Zheng answered. It was Liu Zhenming.
“Mr. Lu, free today?” Liu Zhenming asked.
“What’s up?”
“The major shareholder of Nandou Huairen Hall wants to meet you for lunch, get to know you,” Liu Zhenming explained. “Probably about that old ginseng. They likely want to build a connection for priority access to quality goods in the future.”
Lu Zheng raised an eyebrow. “They’re that sure I’ll get more good stuff?”
“Mr. Lu, we’ve done business a few times. Let’s be straight,” Liu Zhenming said with a laugh. “You’re not a full-time herb dealer, but you’ve got connections for this kind of quality. One leads to another. Building a relationship makes future deals easier. Nandou Huairen Hall is a big name in pharmaceuticals, with deep pockets and fair prices. They might not match auction prices, but they’re fast, and they’ll take high-quality herbs that don’t quite make the auction cut. So, how about it, Mr. Lu? Lunch?”
Lu Zheng thought for a moment and agreed. “Sure. When and where?”
“Noon, 249 Jingxi Road, Ning’an District. Shallow Sea Villa.”
“Got it,” Lu Zheng nodded, then hung up.
…
Lu Zheng let out a breath. He had once planned to trade between worlds to become a small-time tycoon, but the ancient world wasn’t exactly normal. Before he knew it, he was cultivating immortality. In less than a year, he had a hundred years of cultivation. With his current strength, was money still an issue? And more importantly, was money still his goal?
“Hmph,” Lu Zheng scoffed, shaking his head. Of course it was.
He hadn’t stayed at the Burj Al Arab, visited Neuschwanstein Castle, indulged in Monaco’s extravagance, or fished for tuna on a Pacific island. These were his dreams as a poor kid. Had he achieved them? Not even a small goal.
There were many ways to make money, but Lu Zheng didn’t want to risk trouble. The modern world had scarce natural resources, and a three-hundred-year-old ginseng had earned him sixty million. It was a quick way to wealth, so he decided to keep this business going.
…
At noon, Lu Zheng arrived at Shallow Sea Villa on time.
The villa was a standalone, Western-style building, lush with greenery and blooming flowers. As he entered, a faint old melody drifted in, perfectly matching the decades-old architecture, creating an immersive atmosphere.
The lunch was a success, with everyone enjoying themselves. Lu Zheng met Xie Feng, the major shareholder of Huairen Hall, and sold a century-old ginseng weighing less than a pound for twelve million after tax.
Lu Zheng was very satisfied.
…
In the ancient world, Renxin Hall.
“Lu Lang’s here,” Liu Qingyan, attending to a patient, didn’t stand when she saw Lu Zheng enter.
Lu Zheng nodded, greeted Liu Qingyan and her father, then washed his hands and sat at another station, taking on some of the clinic’s patients.
The ancient world was great for this. No medical licence was needed to practise. In the modern world, treating Lin Wan had to be done in secret to avoid trouble or worse. What a hassle.
