Da Xuan Martial Saint

"Do you still have some impression, what's the matter?"

Chen Mu asked.

After pondering for a moment, Chen Hong said, "Youying's father passed away last year, and now she's living with me. She's also reached the age for marriage, and you haven't settled down yet. I was thinking we could discuss a marriage proposal for you two, what do you think?"

Chen Yue listened on the side, blinking her eyes.

Chen Mu had intended to decline, but after giving it some thought and recalling some memories about "Zhang Youying"—she seemed to have been quite a cute little girl when they were young—he said, "I don't want to settle down in the next two years, and I haven't seen her for many years. I don't even know what she looks like now."

Chen Hong laughed and said, "She's a grown young woman now, and no less impressive than Yue'er. Hmm... It's good that you don't go today. I haven't mentioned this to Youying yet; I'll go back and bring it up to see how it goes."

At this point,

seeing that it was indeed getting late, Chen Hong stood up to take her leave, and Chen Mu pulled Chen Yue along to see her to the door.

Once Chen Hong's figure had disappeared,

Chen Yue tilted her little head and looked at Chen Mu, saying, "Brother, it's about time you found yourself a wife."

Chen Mu closed the door and reached out to touch her head.

"No rush."

In fact, now was not the right time for him anyway. Once he had perfected his blade technique and become a Head Constable, then even if he had desires, he could be choosy without issue. But then again, once he held that position, there would be many who would gravitate to him for his status, so taking a look now wouldn't hurt.

Chen Yue whispered, "Once Brother has a wife, he won't want me anymore."

Upon hearing this, Chen Mu couldn't help but laugh, "How could I not want you? Yue'er is the most important."

After coaxing the little girl back into the house, Chen Mu went into the firewood room and continued practicing his blade technique.

...

The sky had grown dim.

Chen Hong quickened her steps and soon arrived at a spacious street and alley and entered a courtyard.

The courtyard was not large, just a "single-entry" yard. Besides the main entrance, there were three rows of houses forming a circle, each row consisting of four rooms, making a total of twelve. Although they looked somewhat old, they were still clean.

The residents in such a courtyard were generally not people of power or prestige, only slightly more affluent than the impoverished lower class, usually inhabited by families of four or five people.

As soon as Chen Hong entered the courtyard,

a rather greasy-looking middle-aged man came over with a worried expression and asked:

"How did it go?"

He was the father of Zhang Hai, also known as "Butcher Zhang" on the streets, quite famous for his craft of slaughtering pigs and butchering meat, a profession that provided him with a comfortable life. But this issue with Zhang Hai had left him completely at a loss.

After all, he was just a butcher, at most someone who regularly delivered meat to some "masters." Although he knew some low-class characters, dealing with the City Defense Division and matters of prison was beyond his reach. After all, no riffraff, thief, or even gang member could have the influence to extract someone from prison.

As for those who really wield power and influence, he was not qualified enough to ask them to speak on his behalf.

"Alas."

Chen Hong sighed, first following Butcher Zhang into the house, then explained the situation.

Upon hearing this, Butcher Zhang initially breathed a sigh of relief, but then he sighed again and said, "Alas, your nephew has been a constable for so many years and still doesn't know any nobles who could say a good word for him... Back when your elder brother was still alive, I said that your nephew shouldn't become a constable.

In this world, without family background, without money or influence, being a constable won't bring in any silver, nor will it lead to promotions. It's not as good as taking a chance in the gangs, fighting tooth and nail—maybe even making a name for oneself."

Chen Hong wiped away her tears, "Being a constable is at least a stable job. We don't ask for much silver; living safely is enough. Besides, without Mu, the silver couldn't even be delivered into the jailer's hands."

Butcher Zhang shook his head and said, "Enough, let's not talk about this. Call Youying to have dinner."

Before Chen Hong could leave, a young girl about sixteen or seventeen years old walked in. She looked rather valiant, with a teardrop mole under her eye, and as soon as she entered, she asked, "Auntie, you're back. How is Brother Hai doing?"

Chen Hong recounted Zhang Hai's circumstances once more.

Zhang Youying sat listening, offering reassurance, "At least for now, he's out of trouble."

But she kept the second half of her thought to herself—given Cousin Zhang Hai's heftiness, this stint in jail might actually be a blessing in disguise, allowing him to slim down. Of course, such insensitive comments were best kept unsaid.

She also shook her head internally; she had long felt that Zhang Hai, being uneducated and loafing around daily, would inevitably get into trouble. She had once kindly warned Zhang Hai, but he didn't take her words to heart, and she let the matter rest, never expecting trouble to arise so abruptly.

Fortunately, it hadn't implicated her family or herself.

Chen Hong sat there, grieving over Zhang Hai's situation for a while, until Zhang Youying brought the food to the table. Only then did she come back to her senses, and remembering something, she asked Zhang Youying, "Youying, you haven't seen Mu for many years now, have you?"

Zhang Youying pondered for a moment, recalling the image of a young boy, Chen Mu, from her childhood. She had not seen him since then, but she could vaguely imagine what he might look like grown up, probably better-looking than Zhang Hai, though not particularly bright. She had asked him a simple question about counting chickens and ducks, and it had completely stumped him.

When Chen Hong suddenly brought up Chen Mu, Zhang Youying quickly grasped her aunt's intention.

So she said nothing, just watching Chen Hong, waiting for what would come next.

Sure enough, Chen Hong continued, "Mu is really a good kid. Even though his family is poor, he's a constable with a steady job. You are of age now, and I think..."

"Auntie, I'm not ready to marry just yet,"

Zhang Youying blushed slightly as she said, "Plus, I know a bit of reading, writing, and arithmetic, and I was hoping to be in charge of accounts in the future. I don't think a constable like Brother Mu needs someone to handle the accounting, right?"

Although she led a sheltered life, she knew a bit about the ways of the world. For the lower echelons' constables, if they had clout in the family that could buy connections to slowly climb the ranks, or if they went to the Inner City to learn martial arts and develop real skills, they would have a chance.

But without any backing, there was hardly any opportunity for advancement, and their salary would only allow for a modest living.

Knowing reading, writing, and arithmetic, and possessing beauty, she figured that even if she didn't marry into a powerful family, she could at least marry an innkeeper or a pawnshop owner. She'd rather handle some writing and accounting daily... It's best not to get involved with relatives.

"This..."

Chen Hong, hearing this, was suddenly a bit embarrassed.

Butcher Zhang shook his head and said, "Youying's skill in reading, writing, and arithmetic is truly not bad; she's never made a mistake in the accounts when helping me sell meat. What could she possibly do by marrying your nephew? You should stop worrying about it. I'll look around when I have time, see if there's a suitable family. She shouldn't be shortchanged."

Zhang Youying obediently hung her head, saying nothing.

Seeing this, Chen Hong could only sigh helplessly and drop the subject for now.

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