Chapter 321 - 183: Jianghu Is Not Just About Fighting and Killing, But Are You Worthy of My Respect?

Chapter 321: Chapter 183: Jianghu Is Not Just About Fighting and Killing, But Are You Worthy of My Respect?

A cool sensation spread over his skin as the ointment was applied. Wan Ze was a little surprised because the coolness quickly turned into a gentle warmth.

"I’ve realized you get into more trouble than I do," Zhai Jia said as he applied the ointment. His fingers pressed into Wan Ze’s arm, following the grain of the muscle, kneading the ointment into the skin, into the still-twitching muscle fibers.

Wan Ze was speechless. He decided to just keep quiet and let him do as he pleased.

The aching numbness in his arm slowly faded under the ointment’s effect.

Zhai Jia’s movements were quick.

After finishing with the ointment, he took out a roll of bandages and began wrapping Wan Ze’s arm, starting from the wrist. Each new layer overlapped the previous one by half. The tension was just right—not so tight it would cut off circulation, but not so loose it would slip down.

He paused when he reached the elbow, checked the angle, and then continued upward, stopping just below the shoulder to finish it off and secure it with a small clip.

"Not bad. My bandaging skills are pretty decent, huh?"

He tucked in the end of the bandage, dusted off his hands, and stood up. Taking two steps back, he tilted his head to admire his handiwork, his expression like that of a painter admiring a freshly completed masterpiece—pure, self-satisfied contentment.

"Decent? You might as well just strangle me with it," Wan Ze said irritably. He glanced down at his right arm, which was wrapped up like a zongzi. The bandages were neat, each layer perfectly aligned. It was indeed a good wrap, but it was also indeed tight.

He tried wiggling his fingers and could feel the indentations the bandages were making on his skin.

’It’s not really necessary. With my current level of Horizontal Training, it would heal overnight anyway. But that would be a bit too shocking for anyone to see, so I’ll just let Zhai Jia do his thing.’

Zhai Jia chuckled at his words, crouched back down, loosened the bandage by two loops, and secured it again.

"Ah Ze, on a serious note, you know how Brother Yu and I have a small team? You want to give it a shot with us? Try a run?"

Wan Ze looked up at him. "How does it work?"

Zhai Jia glanced around. The hallway was empty. He leaned closer to Wan Ze and lowered his voice. "We take commissions... mostly escort jobs. The most exciting ones are snatching goods. We usually split the take sixty-forty, and we split our forty percent. A single run can net goods worth two or three hundred thousand. If we’re lucky, we might even score a Divine Weapon... and that stuff is priceless."

Zhai Jia let out a sly laugh. "The stuff from those guys isn’t exactly legit. If we take it, we take it. No one’s going to file a police report, and no one would dare to. It’s the rule of the street: dog eat dog. It’s all about skill. The losers just have to suck it up, and the winners take all."

Wan Ze raised an eyebrow slightly. "So, you’re saying we can also get Martial Skills?"

As far as he was concerned, there were ways for him to make money. Martial Skills were what he cared about most.

A million in the bank wouldn’t make him stronger, but a Martial Skill would.

His status panel currently showed several uncompleted High Level quests: thirty thousand practice sessions of the Twelve Divine Intentions Fist, thirty thousand practice sessions of the Cloud-Breaking Fist, and one hundred thousand repetitions of the Wave-Treading Shocking Swan Body Technique... Every single one would make him stronger.

If he could get his hands on a few more Martial Skills, even just Middle Tier ones, every little bit would add up. The cumulative increase to his All Attributes would be substantial.

’The future is full of potential!’

Zhai Jia was taken aback. He hadn’t expected the first thing Wan Ze thought of to be Martial Skills.

Most people’s eyes would light up at the mention of "two or three hundred thousand" or "Divine Weapons."

But not Wan Ze. He skipped right over all that and went straight for the Martial Skills.

But the thought only lasted a moment. He didn’t dwell on it, nodding with a smile. "Of course. If we can’t find any ready-made Martial Skill manuals, we can pry them from the mouths of these guys. Eight out of ten things they own are illicit, hidden away from the light of day. Anyone in this line of work is bound to know some decent Martial Skills. And if I can’t break them, there’s still Brother Yu. He’s a genuine interrogation expert. Very few people can last an hour with him."

Wan Ze lowered his head, thinking.

The bandages on his arm were wrapped very neatly.

"When do we leave?" he asked, quickly raising his head, his tone crisp.

Zhai Jia was taken aback again. He snapped out of it, mentally reviewed their recent schedule, and said thoughtfully, "Sometime this week. Once we’re done, we can take over that senior’s business right on time. There won’t be any delays."

But then he glanced at Wan Ze’s arm, his brow furrowing slightly. "But that injury of yours..."

"It’s a minor issue," Wan Ze cut him off. He flexed his right hand. The muscles under the bandages were still faintly sore, but it no longer affected his ability to make a fist.

An injury like this really was nothing to him.

"..." Zhai Jia opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but swallowed his words.

He knew Wan Ze too well. Once this guy made up his mind, not even ten bulls could drag him back.

’Besides, I was the same way back in the day... I’d get injured and never say a word, just grit my teeth and keep training until the pain reached my very bones before I’d stop to catch my breath.’

That kind of drive was bone-deep, which was why he admired Wan Ze so much.

"Alright, enough talk then. Just contact me beforehand when the time comes." Wan Ze stood up, letting his right arm hang at his side. Despite the bandages, his movements were already natural, as if he’d already grown used to the discomfort. "Goodnight, Brother Jia."

With that said, he turned and left.

Zhai Jia froze for a second, watching Wan Ze’s departing back and scratching his head.

’How come I get the feeling Ah Ze is even more of a warmonger than Brother Yu?’

’Brother Yu is the reserved type—cool on the surface but burning with passion inside.’

’Ah Ze is the overt type—he doesn’t say much, but his actions are faster than anyone’s.’

’Heh, this pair of martial brothers... each one is more of a handful than the last.’

"Want me to walk you out?" he called after him.

"It’s just a few steps, no need. You should head back too... You’ve had a busy enough night," Wan Ze said, waving his hand dismissively.

Zhai Jia shook his head and chuckled. He stood up, tightened the cap on the ointment jar, and put it back in the medicine cabinet. He then gathered the scattered bandages, turned off the light, and left as well.

Wan Ze wasn’t in a hurry to leave because he was eager to rest. It was because Feng Jiuchen had sent him a message for the first time in days.

In the alley outside the martial arts hall, the night wind blew in from the entrance, carrying a chill.

Wan Ze took out his communicator. On the screen was a short message of just four words: "Huangliang, the usual spot."