Chapter 110: I Am Your Senior Uncle

Zhang Ye knew nothing about antiques. Even if a genuine antique worth thousands stood before him, he would be unable to discern its value by the slightest margin.

Yet, this did not prevent him from understanding that antiques could fetch high prices. Two years ago in Lihua County, a scrap-collecting woman purchased an old painting album for a mere 1.7 yuan. One of the paintings inside was then sold to someone for 30,000 yuan—a thousandfold profit that clearly revealed the true worth of antiques.

What followed caused an even greater stir: the buyer later auctioned the same painting in the Magic City for over a million yuan.

Now, seeing that scrap-collecting woman again, Zhang Ye immediately recalled whether she was a lucky soul or simply unfortunate. While turning 1.7 yuan into 30,000 was impressive, watching the painting’s value soar a hundredfold after that sale must have been a bitter pill to swallow.

Had he only heard about this incident, Zhang Ye would have found it difficult to locate the woman and acquire that painting. But he remembered clearly: she lived right across from Zhao Haidong's house, not far from his own.

When he first heard of this, his mind was ablaze with ideas. Now that the chance to obtain that painting presented itself, he naturally felt tempted. Even if he spent 30,000 yuan to buy it, he could resell it for over a million. Should everything go smoothly, his plan would suddenly become feasible.

However, he had school today and no time to waste. Zhang Ye suppressed his thoughts for the moment, returned home for breakfast, then rode his bicycle to school.

Outside the gates of No. 1 Middle School, a bustling street spanned across. During school hours, countless small stalls lined the sidewalks, vendors catering to students with steamed buns, mantou, and soy milk. Naturally, the area was also dotted with stationery shops and small eateries, so even students who missed their home breakfasts could find something to eat here.

On this road, riding a bike was impractical, so Zhang Ye pushed his bicycle as he passed by. Just as he intended to enter the school, an old man caught his attention.

The man was dressed in tattered clothes, with long, graying hair and beard, disheveled and unkempt, resembling a beggar. Yet his garment was distinct—a faded green, one-piece Taoist robe patched extensively, giving off a forlorn air.

“Master,” Zhang Ye’s eyes lit up, silently murmuring.

In his previous life, it was only after this master had bestowed alms upon him for over ten days at school that Zhang Ye had learned the Five-Animal Qigong. Although he had given up after some practice due to lack of results, his experiences in this life made him appreciate its preciousness as a secret art.

Moreover, especially during this summer vacation, Zhang Ye had practiced diligently and clearly felt the benefits the Five-Animal Qigong brought—not just physical, but sensory as well. His senses became sharper; subtle sounds and changes from meters or even kilometers away could be detected.

Suppressing his excitement, Zhang Ye cautiously approached, reached into his pocket, and pulled out five yuan to drop into the old man's small bowl.

At that moment, however, he felt a sudden grip on his wrist, followed by a steady, albeit aged, voice whispering in his ear, “Who taught you your martial arts?”

Zhang Ye’s Five-Animal Qigong had been passed down by that old Taoist. Though he hadn’t deliberately displayed it, his movements and posture unconsciously revealed traces of it. To ordinary eyes, it was insignificant; to a true expert, unmistakable.

The old Taoist immediately recognized the foundation of Zhang Ye’s skill—a technique he himself had mastered. His heart stirred, and he grasped Zhang Ye’s hand, eager to inquire.

“I… learned it from a senior,” Zhang Ye replied, startled but thoughtful.

“A senior? Could it be Qingyu?” The old Taoist hesitated, then murmured softly, quickly pulling Zhang Ye into a corner.

“Where is Qingyu now?” the old man asked eagerly.

Zhang Ye was completely confused. Qingyu? Who was that? His answer was a spontaneous attempt to explain, as such martial arts wouldn’t have come to him without reason. Naturally, he needed a plausible story.

Unexpectedly, this response felt surprisingly accurate. The Five-Animal Qigong was not exclusive to the old Taoist; at least one other named Qingyu had mastered it. Judging by the old man’s anxious demeanor, the two likely shared a close connection.

“Who are you? And why should I tell you?” Zhang Ye quickly slipped into character. Having read many novels, he knew how richly varied such plots could be. The strange and fantastical were commonplace. His act was convincing enough.

“I am your senior uncle,” the Taoist declared bluntly.

“Senior uncle?” Zhang Ye eyed the old man curiously.

The Taoist puffed his beard and glared angrily. “Yes. Qingyu should have told you about me. I am Qingshan, the master of the Gu Yue Sect. Qingyu is my junior brother. You practice the Five-Animal Qigong, right? How long have you been training?”

“I left,” Zhang Ye said. “Because I helped him out, he taught me the Five-Animal Qigong. But after a few days, he left. I don’t know where he went.”

“Sure enough, that’s his character. Doing things his own way—coming and going as he pleases, no one can control him.” The old Taoist nodded, not surprised. He then appraised Zhang Ye once more and said, “Now that I have news of my junior brother, there’s no reason for me to stay here. Practice the Five-Animal Qigong well—it will benefit you greatly.” With that, he prepared to leave.

“Wait, senior uncle, are you just going to leave like that?” Zhang Ye pursued him. He still wanted to learn real combat techniques. The Five-Animal Qigong was valuable, but mainly for physical conditioning. Against true warriors, it was little more than a punching bag.

“Is there something else you need?” Qingshan asked.

“My master promised to teach me the fighting methods of the Five-Animal Qigong, but he left without a trace. Since that’s the case, senior uncle, could you teach me?” Zhang Ye pleaded with a hopeful smile.

“You...” The old Taoist suddenly grabbed Zhang Ye’s arm. Startled, Zhang Ye’s body reacted swiftly and fluidly like an agile monkey, writhing intensely. His arm slipped free like an eel, and he shook off the old man’s grasp in a single motion.