Chapter 61 Plundering Wudang Once More

With everyone else taking care of everything, Fang Xinghe suddenly found himself with plenty of free time.

He decided to take the opportunity to make a trip back to Mount Wudang. Purchasing a truckload of rice, flour, grain, and cooking oil, he headed up the mountain to visit Master Zhong and his senior martial brothers and sisters.

The moment everyone laid eyes on him, they greeted him with immense warmth and enthusiasm.

"Little Fang, you've really made something of yourself!"

"We keep seeing news about you all the way up here on the mountain. You're amazing!"

"You mentioned learning martial arts here at Wudang, and when Master saw it, the wrinkles on his face practically melted into a smile~~~"

Daoist Master Zhong, who had been watching them reminisce with a gentle smile, instantly put on a stern expression upon hearing this. "Do you all have nothing better to do? Such a racket, what kind of decorum is this?"

The group scattered like startled birds and beasts. Master Zhong then turned his complaints onto Fang Xinghe. "Come if you want to come, why bring all this useless junk? How much money have you even earned yet?!"

Fang Xinghe didn't mention how much a single advertisement of his was worth; he simply emphasized, "These are all daily necessities, just a small token of appreciation. It didn't cost much."

"Let this be the only time."

Master Zhong turned around and immediately dragged Fang Xinghe toward the practice grounds.

"Come, come, come. It's been half a year, let me see how far your martial arts have progressed."

When the first set of forms was completed, Master Zhong gripped his beard tightly.

When the third set of forms was completed, Master Zhong's eyes went wide round.

When the seventh set of forms was completed, Master Zhong put his hands behind his back, maintaining an expression so steady and profound it seemed unfathomable.

"Hmm, your foundations are laid quite solidly. It seems you have truly been keeping up with your practice."

Right after that, his tone shifted smoothly into one of paternal kindness and warmth. "Disciple, are you really unwilling to inherit the mantle of the Sanfeng Sect? Any of these senior brothers of yours, if sent out into the world, are quite capable fighters..."

What on earth was going on here?

Fang Xinghe was torn between laughter and tears, hastily waving his hands. "Please, Master, stop joking around. I've always been a lay disciple; becoming an ordained Daoist would needlessly saddle me with the Bureau of Religious Affairs as an extra mother-in-law, along with all sorts of honorary godfathers. It just doesn't fit my path."

"Sigh!"

Master Zhong let out a regretful sigh, his expression desolate.

"Forget it, forget it. How many days can you stay this time?"

"I can't quite say for sure right now. There might be an endorsement press conference coming up later, I have to wait for notice."

"Well, every day counts. Come, it's about time you learned some new martial arts. The Longhua Fist and the Chen-style Tai Chi—which one would you like to learn first?"

At a rate of one or two days per set, the order didn't really matter.

Fang Xinghe ended up staying for a total of seven days. Not only did he learn three advanced boxing forms, but upon leaving, he even swiped Master Zhong's beloved white waxwood pole.

"Master Zhong, I can't find one this long back home. Can you have one shipped over to me?"

Master Zhong blew into his beard and glared in exasperation. "A seven-meter-long white waxwood pole—even our Daoist temple only has this one single piece!"

"Your Daoist temple?"

Fang Xinghe aggrievedly pursed his lips, not saying a single extra word.

Master Zhong instantly clenched his fists... and accidentally yanked out a handful of his own beard.

Senior Brother Chen chimed in with a cheerful smile, "Master, it really is inconvenient for the little junior brother to practice martial arts at home. We can just have someone craft another one!"

"Hmph!"

Master Zhong flicked his sleeve angrily. "Take it, take it! Is there anything else you've set your sights on? Spit it out all at once!"

If you're going to chat like that, Master, then I truly won't stand on ceremony...

Completely devoid of shame, Little Fang immediately began picking and choosing, demanding two heavier practice swords as well as a genuine long spear complete with a spearhead.

Since he had no way of carrying these items himself, Wudang would have to ship them under the temple's name, which would likely take about a week to arrive.

By then, he should have already returned home.

"Well then, I'm off, Master, Senior Brothers. See you during the winter break!"

Barring any accidents, he would still be spending the Lunar New Year up on the mountain this year; if an accident did happen, it was hard to say—it would all depend on how things played out.

Then, on the very evening before his departure, Senior Brother Charlie Wang suddenly came looking for him.

"Junior Brother Fang, do you happen to need a manager right now? If you don't have a suitable candidate in mind, would you consider me?"

"Huh?" Fang Xinghe was slightly taken aback. "I actually haven't considered this matter yet, but it certainly does need to be put on the agenda."

"That's great, that's great! I'm applying for the job!"

Charlie Wang was extremely excited.

He was very direct, dumping out both the good and the bad right from the start.

"Let me lay out my situation for you first. My English name is Richard Simon, born in the San Fernando Valley of Los Angeles, and a graduate of the USC Annenberg School for Communication and Journalism.

"I came to Mount Wudang to travel specifically because I've idolized Bruce Lee since I was a child and have been interested in Chinese martial arts. Right as I arrived, our martial arts school was being established, and I've been studying on the mountain for six years now. I'm now a formal disciple of Master, though I am not an ordained Daoist.

"This year I am thirty-two years old, and I have come to deeply understand that practicing martial arts, cultivating the mind, and entering the Dao are lifelong pursuits that cannot be rushed. Feeling the urge to move after a period of stillness, I'm preparing to go down the mountain to find a job, balancing life and spiritual practice.

"When spring arrived, I took a trip around Wuhan and discovered that I have no other marketable skills besides teaching English.

"With my background in communication studies, it's very difficult to find a relevant job in China.

"But after you came back, I suddenly realized that I could actually be your manager. During my university internships, I learned how American agents and managers work. Although I'm not familiar with the situation in China, I know what my duties are.

"Compared to a manager with established connections in the Chinese entertainment industry, I am a blank slate in this regard and need to start from scratch.

"However, I also have my own advantages—I am a genuine Caucasian American.

"Dealing with Chinese companies means I don't need to have too many reservations; rather, they are the ones who need to be mindful of me.

"Moreover, my learning capacity is very strong. Whether in publishing, commercial collaborations, or the film and television industry, I have USC as my backing and can learn a wealth of advanced experience from my former classmates and friends.

"Right now, I don't have Hollywood connections, but in the future, I imagine I will. My classmates graduated eight years ago—who knows what positions they might climb to?

"More importantly, I don't actually lack money. My family background is quite affluent; by Chinese reckoning, we are petty capitalists.

"Therefore, I'm hoping to build a career, not fleece you for money.

"Junior Brother Fang, I believe you can definitely surpass Jet Li, and I'm willing to help you achieve that. It makes my blood boil!

"So as for my salary, I can accept going without pay for the time being. At the end of the year, depending on my performance, I will take a 2% to 4% commission from your total post-tax income as compensation.

"If there are any changes in the future, we can discuss them then. How does that sound?"

To be honest, Fang Xinghe felt a slight twitch of irritation.

Why would anyone need to be mindful of a Caucasian American? What kind of logic was that!

Yet this wasn't Senior Brother Charlie's fault; it was simply the reality of the present era. The country needed time to develop, and so did its people.

Therefore, from a purely rational standpoint, Senior Brother Charlie truly was an excellent candidate.

He had a wonderful personality—unpretentious, enthusiastic, straightforward, idealistic yet devoid of vulgar mercenary habits, possessed of great patience, and enjoyed a stellar reputation among his fellow disciples.

Above all else... was trust.

Any senior brother who could stay on the mountain long-term was a core pillar of the Sanfeng Sect, not just a short-term student who paid tuition. They required Master Zhong's recognition.

Treating the Sanfeng Sect as their home, this group shared deep emotional bonds that formed an exceptionally solid foundation of mutual trust. Combined with Master Zhong's endorsement, he was far more trustworthy than any agent scouted from the outside.

After a brief moment of contemplation, Fang Xinghe replied, "Let me consult Master Zhong."

Master Zhong's response was: "Charlie is a fine boy—clever yet uncorrupted, with a tremendous passion for traditional Chinese martial arts and Daoist philosophy."

Stopping right at the point of sufficiency, it was exceptionally insightful.

Fang Xinghe had his answer and immediately agreed to take Charlie Wang on a probationary trial.

A senior brother was a senior brother, but work still depended on ability.

Charlie Wang felt no dissatisfaction whatsoever. Happily packing his things, he followed Fang Xinghe down the mountain the very next day.

And just like that, scoundrel Fang returned loaded with bounty. Not only did he walk away with the treasured pole he had been eyeing for ages, but he also abducted a grown man to take home with him, behaving precisely like a bandit descending a mountain.

How could anyone deny such personal charm?