Chapter 8: Kid, Where Do You Think You’re Going?

"Sigh!"

Thirteenth Aunt let out a helpless sigh and said nothing more.

Chen Jie naturally did not object; he was still hoping that she would loosen his muscles and bones again, as that was the key to activating the "Blood Dragon Jade" and returning home. Time waited for no one, and with Old Chen lying in the ICU, he had long been anxious to return.

"But I must say this first: if you want Thirteenth Aunt to teach you martial arts, the price will not be cheap!" Liu Bamei stared intently at Chen Jie, smiling like a little miser. "To be honest with you, both my martial arts and Seventh Brother's were taught by Thirteenth Aunt!"

Chen Jie’s eyes lit up at these words. He knew full well the power of "Ghost Foot Seven." If he could learn even ten or twenty percent of Ghost Foot Seven's skills, wouldn't he be unstoppable in the domestic fighting circuit?

"Money is no object! My family doesn't have much else, but we have plenty of money!" Chen Jie said with a bold, sweeping gesture, sounding absolutely certain. He had to act like a wealthy man now, didn't he? Even though he didn't have a single penny to his name, it didn't stop him from putting on airs.

Liu Bamei studied Chen Jie. Seeing that he didn't even blink when he talked about money, she concluded he must truly be wealthy. She breathed a sigh of relief—the rent for next month was covered!

Thirteenth Aunt smiled helplessly and remained silent. What could she say? The family was strapped for cash, after all.

***

When in Rome, do as the Romans do. Although Chen Jie was anxious, he knew some things could not be rushed. He had originally wanted Thirteenth Aunt to perform another "bone-setting" session to push his [Martial Arts Merit Value] past 100, but she explained that given his current physical condition, she could only perform the technique once a day to avoid harming his health. He had no choice but to settle in for the time being.

While Liu Bamei was busy cooking, Chen Jie settled into the dilapidated house. To his surprise, while technology was not advanced in this era, newspapers existed. True to her background from a prominent family, Thirteenth Aunt had the habit of reading them. The papers were printed in traditional characters; though Chen Jie couldn't write them, he could read them well enough.

He spent the next while flipping through the newspapers. This was a parallel world, with a historical trajectory significantly different from the one he knew.

The Great Qian Dynasty.

This was a dynasty that had lasted for over a thousand years. The historical path had diverged during the Tang Dynasty. Li Shimin had seized the throne and become Emperor Taizong, just as in history. However, the Crown Prince, Li Chengqian, had not been deposed; instead, he had successfully staged a coup and become the founding emperor of the Great Qian Dynasty. Bizarrely, Li Chengqian had not only changed the name of the country but also moved the capital to Beiping.

The historical track hadn't just diverged; it had taken a sharp turn. By the present day, the Great Qian Dynasty bore a striking resemblance to the late Qing Dynasty Chen Jie knew. History was surprisingly consistent. Even without a change of dynasty, the internal structure had long since rotted away.

The Great Qian’s Beiyang Fleet had recently fought a major battle in the East Sea against the joint naval fleet of the Easterners, only to be utterly defeated, losing control of the seas. The once-greatest fleet in Asia had been completely crushed.

The consequences of defeat were dire. Global powers flocked to the Great Qian, throwing their weight around. The dynasty was now teetering, and the people were suffering. Not only had the government signed various unequal treaties with foreign powers, but internal taxes had become increasingly heavy. The world was in chaos, opium was rampant, and foreign powers vied for influence. The people lived in dire misery, leading to a surge in martial arts practice and the proliferation of gangs.

"Damn! How did I end up in such a chaotic era?" Chen Jie muttered. "The key is that to freely travel through the 'Martial Saint Gate,' I have to practice martial arts to earn [Martial Arts Merit Value]! But in the age of firearms, what’s the point of martial arts? Isn't it just a matter of a single bullet?"

He let out a sigh and put down the newspaper. Next, he checked the currency of the Great Qian Dynasty. They also used copper coins, where one coin equaled one 'wen.' One thousand coins made a 'diao,' and one 'diao' was equivalent to one silver dollar. While the exchange rates varied slightly, the difference wasn't huge. The only real difference was the low cost of living; a single 'wen' could buy a nutritious breakfast, giving it the purchasing power of roughly ten yuan.

A rickshaw cost 200 'wen.' The Ximen Rickshaw Company had 20 rickshaws. This meant the company was deep in debt, unable to pay next month's rent. Yet, when totaled up, the rent, living expenses, and debts amounted to less than five 'diao.' Five silver dollars would solve everything.

Chen Jie calculated that one silver dollar here had the purchasing power of ten thousand yuan. Back home, a silver dollar—weighing 26.5 grams—cost about 7.5 yuan per gram to produce, meaning the cost was around 200 yuan. The purchasing power difference between the two worlds was 50 times!

He took a sharp breath, his eyes shining. He was too poor, and the economic crisis was real. "I’m going to be rich! Old Chen’s medical bills are covered! If I go back, grab some silver dollars, and bring them here, I'll be an overnight tycoon! And once I’m rich, I can bring goods back from here to make another fortune! I’ll be profiting on both ends!"

Suddenly, he remembered that every activation of the 'Blood Dragon Jade' required [Martial Arts Merit Value]. He felt a burst of adrenaline, determined to earn as much merit as possible to become a traveler who could move freely between worlds.

"Practice martial arts! I must practice martial arts!" His heart raced with excitement.

***

At dinner time, Liu Qi returned. He had been fighting in a ring at the street corner today. Though he won, he dared not let Thirteenth Aunt know. He had suffered some skin abrasions on his arm, so he had delayed his return until dark.

Seeing him, Thirteenth Aunt called out, "Xiao Qi, come over and meet Young Master Chen!"

Liu Qi was startled. "Young Master Chen? What Young Master Chen?" He looked at Chen Jie, scanning him up and down. "Kid, which gang do you run with?"

Chen Jie smiled, unsure of how to respond. The boy before him was 'Ghost Foot Seven.' Chen Jie had seen his leg techniques—ferocious and brutal—and naturally dared not act out of turn. Even though Liu Qi was short, only 1.65 meters, a head shorter than Chen Jie’s 1.78 meters, he was a genuine hard-liner. If they were to fight, Chen Jie wouldn't last two seconds under his kicks.

Thirteenth Aunt scolded him, "What do you mean 'which gang'? Is that how I taught you to speak?" She turned to Chen Jie apologetically, "Please forgive him, Young Master Chen. This is Liu Qi. He never liked his books as a child, has always been idle, and loves to pick fights and cause trouble everywhere."

Chen Jie smiled, observing Liu Qi more closely. He was young, a few years Chen Jie's junior, with sharp, fierce eyes that darted around. The scars on his hands suggested frequent brawls. Even with the fresh, bleeding scrape on his arm from the ring, he hadn't bothered to bandage it, acting as if the injury were nothing at all.