It was another chilly morning.

Jiang Huai woke up with a shiver. He rubbed his cold face and stretched his arms and legs to shake off the discomfort of sleeping curled up. Yesterday, despite hurrying along, they still missed the nearest post station and had to camp outdoors for the night.

Compared to staying at a station, Jiang Huai preferred camping in the wild. At least it was a bit more free and much cleaner than the cells at the post stations.

Over the past two weeks of traveling, Jiang Huai had experienced various conditions at the post stations. If they were lucky, they stayed in communal sheds, which were cleaned more often since they sometimes housed travelers who couldn’t afford better lodgings. Those sheds even had chamber pots, shared though they were, which was still better than nothing.

The cells, however, were a different story. They were seldom cleaned because prisoners weren’t often kept in them. The stench inside was unbearable, and Jiang Huai could only use his prison uniform to cover his nose and mouth while he lay down. Even then, the smell haunted his sleep, and he woke up feeling terrible the next day. If not for gradually getting used to the grueling trek and improving his stamina, he might not have lasted this long.

As for inns, Jiang Huai was sure the constables had decent accommodations, but the prisoners were packed together, no more comfortable than in the sheds, and not as good as camping outdoors.

But there was one significant advantage to camping: freedom.

When Jiang Huai stepped out of the makeshift tarp shelter, he spotted Xiao Jingzhao practicing martial arts nearby. His moves were sharp and fluid, the sound of his punches cutting through the air. Jiang Huai couldn’t help but watch for a moment longer, a trace of envy flickering in his eyes.

Xiao Jingzhao noticed the gaze, frowned, and turned around, catching Jiang Huai staring with an expression of admiration.

Admiring what?

Before Xiao Jingzhao could figure it out, Jiang Huai quickly looked away and busied himself, gathering yesterday’s firewood and feeding it into the stove he had built. He filled a clay pot with water, set it on the rack, and started the fire. Xiao Jingzhao walked over just then, carrying a bag of grains.

Since they were camping outdoors, the constables hadn’t bothered preparing dry cakes for the prisoners. After all, it was uncertain whether they would stay at an inn or camp out each night, and preparing in advance was too much trouble. A sack of mixed grains, however, was easy to carry and wouldn’t spoil.

Of course, raw grain couldn’t be eaten directly. It had to be cooked.

Initially, cooking was the constables’ job, as they didn’t trust the prisoners to do it. There were concerns about prisoners stealing food and sparking fights, or worse, adding something harmful to the meal. Even if only the prisoners got sick, it would still be a hassle for the constables.

As the newest constable, Xiao Jingzhao had been given the cooking duties after just a few days. It wasn’t exactly a desirable task—it required getting up early. Despite the prisoners appearing exhausted, the constables were equally tired from the journey and weren’t eager to take on extra work.

On top of that, Xiao Jingzhao had to prepare meals for the other constables, which made his workload heavier and his mornings even earlier.

Seeing this, Jiang Huai volunteered to help. Or rather, it was more of a repayment.

At first, Jiang Huai only wanted to express his gratitude to Xiao Jingzhao. But he soon discovered that cooking had its perks—like making the food somewhat edible.

When the constables cooked, they barely cleaned the grains, let alone washed them. Everything went straight into the pot—dust, wood chips, and all. The occasional pebble was the least of it; biting down on one could crack a tooth, and there was no way to fix that on the road. If the water ratio was off, the meal could be a disaster—mushy on the outside, rock-hard in the middle, or even half-cooked, making it worse than the dry cakes.

When Jiang Huai took over, he could afford to be more meticulous. He’d pick out the debris, rinse the grains, and soak them overnight. Although soaking grains in the summer risked spoilage, the cooler nights now made it safe and even allowed the grains to absorb more water, reducing cooking time and fuel consumption.

As for taste, Jiang Huai finally understood why people trying to lose weight ate whole grains. Despite all his efforts, the flavor didn’t improve much—it just became more palatable and easier to digest. Still, it was a significant improvement, and the prisoners’ attitudes toward him softened slightly. Of course, this was partly because they were preoccupied with currying favor with the constables and had little energy to bother him.

Jiang Huai poured the soaked grains into the pot, stirred them a bit, and covered it. Then he moved on to the next stove.

When everything was set up, he exhaled in relief. Now he only needed to keep feeding the fire and later add some wild vegetables they’d picked yesterday to finish the meal.

The constables’ food, however, was off-limits. Jiang Huai had initially wanted to help, but Xiao Jingzhao refused.

“No matter how bad my cooking is, the others won’t complain. But if someone gets sick and blames the food, how will you defend yourself?”

That one statement convinced Jiang Huai to back off. It wasn’t impossible, after all, for someone to make such an accusation. Better to avoid unnecessary trouble.

Watching Xiao Jingzhao prepare the food, Jiang Huai’s thoughts drifted back to the martial arts he’d seen earlier. His curiosity itched, and he wanted to ask.

“What is it?” A deep voice broke his train of thought.

Was he that obvious?

Jiang Huai blushed. Embarrassed but determined, he hesitated for only a moment before asking.

“Brother Wei, do you think I could learn martial arts?”

“Learn martial arts?” Xiao Jingzhao now understood the envy in Jiang Huai’s earlier gaze. He gave Jiang Huai a once-over. Even without checking his bone structure, he could tell that Jiang Huai wasn’t cut out for it. His physique was too weak—he’d accomplish little with great effort.

Though Xiao Jingzhao didn’t say anything, his silent scrutiny spoke volumes. Jiang Huai’s face fell in disappointment.

After a moment of thought, Xiao Jingzhao added, “Practicing martial arts requires eating and drinking well. Out here on the road, you’re barely getting enough to sustain yourself, let alone train.”

This remark hit home for Jiang Huai. He’d forgotten that exercise required proper nutrition. With his current diet, he could barely maintain his energy. Adding strenuous training would likely cause him to collapse.

“What’s your reason for wanting to learn martial arts?” Xiao Jingzhao’s question interrupted Jiang Huai’s thoughts.

“Not to be bullied,” Jiang Huai replied without hesitation.

“Has someone been bullying you? Who?” Xiao Jingzhao’s brows furrowed, his tone sharp as he glanced around, trying to identify the culprit.

During the day, he and Jiang Huai were practically inseparable—he had to keep a constant watch as Jiang Huai’s guard. There was no way anyone could have approached Jiang Huai under his nose unless it happened at night…

Xiao Jingzhao’s eyes narrowed, his normally gentle expression turning icy.

“No, no, no one’s bullying me!” Jiang Huai quickly waved his hands in denial, startled by Xiao Jingzhao’s reaction. “Brother Wei, with you around, no one in the group dares to mess with me. It’s just… once we reach Anyuan Prefecture, you’ll be heading back, and I…”

He trailed off, realizing his words sounded a bit clingy, as if he wanted Xiao Jingzhao to stay and protect him. Embarrassed, he fell silent.

Worried that he’d left the wrong impression, Jiang Huai looked up to explain, only to see Xiao Jingzhao lost in thought.

“Brother Wei?” he called softly.

Xiao Jingzhao snapped out of it, his face unreadable. “I see what you mean. You’re worried that once you’re on your own, without any martial skills, you won’t be able to defend yourself if someone tries to harm you.”

Jiang Huai nodded quickly, relieved that Xiao Jingzhao hadn’t read too much into his earlier words.

“Since you were watching earlier, did you remember any moves? Try showing me,” Xiao Jingzhao said.

Jiang Huai felt a little awkward but didn’t want to waste the opportunity. He tried to mimic the techniques he’d seen Xiao Jingzhao perform. However, having only watched for a brief moment, and with no natural aptitude for martial arts, his attempts were clumsy and quickly ground to a halt.

“This is all I remember,” Jiang Huai admitted with a sheepish smile.

Xiao Jingzhao’s brow twitched. He’d never thought it possible for the martial arts he’d practiced since childhood to look so awkward. The stances were nonexistent, and the movements were horribly uncoordinated.

“Do you know any other moves?” Xiao Jingzhao asked.

Jiang Huai thought for a moment and remembered the military boxing drills he’d learned during school training. Though nearly a year had passed since then, he had to relearn it for a club performance. With some effort, he managed to recall the sequence and demonstrated it.

At first, Xiao Jingzhao’s attention wandered, but as he observed the movements, his interest sharpened. The straightforward, efficient techniques intrigued him.

Martial arts, at their core, were meant to subdue opponents quickly and effectively. Xiao Jingzhao had always found his family’s techniques practical, but Jiang Huai’s drill seemed even more so—its simplicity leaving little room for error.

However, Xiao Jingzhao could see that the power behind the moves had been deliberately toned down. With slight adjustments, their lethality could be significantly enhanced.

Halfway through the sequence, Jiang Huai stopped, panting heavily. The exertion was too much for his undernourished body.

This experience only confirmed what Xiao Jingzhao had said: he wasn’t just “unsuited” for martial arts; in his current state, it was physically impossible.

Was this the end of his ambition?

Jiang Huai felt a pang of frustration. Once he reached the exile site, he could use his knowledge to improve his living conditions, making training viable. But on the road, drawing too much attention would invite trouble.

“If you only want to avoid being bullied, you don’t need extensive training. Learning a few key techniques will suffice,” Xiao Jingzhao said, breaking the silence.

Jiang Huai’s spirits lifted. He looked at Xiao Jingzhao, hope rekindled.

Xiao Jingzhao smiled faintly and began explaining. The principle was simple: be ruthless.

The human body, he explained, was both resilient and fragile. A well-placed strike to certain weak points could incapacitate or even kill with minimal effort. Jiang Huai’s lack of strength and stamina didn’t matter; with good aim and determination, he could protect himself.

Listening to Xiao Jingzhao talk about pressure points with a calm smile, Jiang Huai couldn’t help but feel a chill down his spine. The seemingly kind and gentle Brother Wei might not be as harmless as he appeared.