Chapter 103: There Aren't That Many Encounters Without Reason

“Lowly, lowly people?” Si Chongtian’s eyes widened in disbelief as he looked at Liu Qigang. “Uncle Gang, how can you say such things? Nowadays, everyone is equal; there are no more ‘lowly people.’”

“Heh!” Liu Qigang sneered sarcastically. “Lowly people? There are plenty of them. Don’t believe me? Look at the ‘senior colleague’ beside you—he’s a bona fide lowly person.”

Shi Tiexin’s brows suddenly furrowed.

Just moments ago, he had been marveling at the young master’s progress in cultivation. Now, suddenly, he hears such words dragged into the conversation. You’re talking about your own matters, and without reason, you involve me and speak like that—are you looking for trouble?

Shi Tiexin was furious, yet…

“Look, if I curse him as a lowly person to his face, he’d be unhappy, right? But so what if he is? I’m telling him straight—my force technique is at the second level, my sharp energy is perfected, and I’m about to enter the battle energy realm.” Liu Qigang stretched out his hand, and an inexplicable sharp aura radiated from his palm, almost glowing beneath the skin.

Shi Tiexin’s pupils contracted sharply. This state resembled that of Shi Yuhui very closely.

So this is what perfected sharp energy looks like? That busty nurse sister is even more formidable than I imagined.

“Lowly person, lowly person, lowly person—” Liu Qigang growled coldly, “I’ve cursed him three times in a row. What can he do to me? Chongtian, my virtuous nephew, what would you do?”

Shi Tiexin’s face became as hard as iron, but Si Chongtian’s face flushed with anger, nearly leaping up. “My heavens, Uncle Liu, I never knew you were such a person! We martial artists would rather die than submit; even if defeated, we must at least put up a fight with you!”

“Put up a fight? What right do you have to spar with me? You don’t even have sharp energy. One punch from me and I could shatter your skull.” Liu Qigang said coldly, “The only reason you dare to boast about sparring is because you know the secret realm will keep you from dying. But the secret realm isn’t omnipotent—you’ll still get injured and your energy will dissipate.”

“But I’m not afraid!” Si Chongtian shouted angrily. “I won’t cower or hesitate!”

“You’re not afraid? Right, you’re telling the truth. But your courage comes with conditions. You have complete medical support; you recover quickly from injuries. You have endless nourishing delicacies; your dissipated energy refills rapidly. But do you think everyone in the world has the same conditions as you?”

Liu Qigang pointed at Shi Tiexin. “I’m openly cursing him, and he doesn’t even move or say a word. You think he doesn’t want to? You think he lacks courage? You think he can’t fight or won’t fight? I’ll tell you—he comes from the Orphanage. I know the people from there. For him to be working as security here, doing what others in the orphanage envy, he must be a ruthless character who fought his way out of there.”

Si Chongtian looked at Shi Tiexin and murmured, “So, Brother Shi, you’re from the Orphanage?”

Shi Tiexin no longer remained silent. His voice was neither loud nor soft, heavy and steady, seemingly unprovoked but unwilling to beg for mercy. “Mr. Liu, you know so much about someone as insignificant as me; I truly admire that.”

“My force technique is at the peak of the second level, about to enter the third. I know everything happening in the factory, big or small, as long as I want to.” Liu Qigang finally turned to face Shi Tiexin, his sharp eyes like a hawk ready to strike for the kill. “Why don’t you make a move and spar with me?”

Shi Tiexin met his gaze without backing down, showing once again that shadowed, intimidating expression. “No medical insurance, so I dare not spar.”

If I had medical insurance, if I weren’t in debt, I’d really like to spar with you.

“Wise choice.” Liu Qigang nodded. “If a lowly person lacks the awareness of being lowly, then they can’t even be lowly people—they’re just dead.”

“How can it be like this!” Si Chongtian couldn’t accept it. Everything happening before his eyes conflicted with his understanding. “In the Mist Era, during the great flourishing of martial arts, shouldn’t everyone be like dragons? If you work hard enough, shouldn’t everyone be able to rise?”

Liu Qigang chuckled. “Everyone like dragons? You must’ve read too much mass-produced literature. But that depends on the perspective. Historically, even the lowest in modern society can eat their fill, dress warmly, avoid cold, hunger, infectious diseases, and parasites; they’re healthy and decent-looking—not like before when corpses littered the streets.

“Nowadays, it’s the great harmony world our ancestors dreamed of a hundred years ago—truly everyone is like a dragon.

“But dragons have ranks. Even if everyone is a dragon, there are still lowly dragons. The upper echelons remain the upper echelons. The lower levels want to rise? Ha, lowly people are lowly people—they just can’t rise.”

“No, no!” Si Chongtian stubbornly disagreed. “Uncle Liu, you’re wrong. You shouldn’t look down on others or constantly talk about ‘lowly people.’ Remember, fortunes change like the west and east of the Yellow River over thirty years…”

Liu Qigang interrupted him. “I’ve read that book too, called ‘Fighting Beyond the Atmosphere.’ It’s quite interesting. But the funniest thing is, though it says ‘don’t look down on poor youths,’ the protagonist was never truly poor. He was the eldest son of a great family, a genius in force technique cultivation, only briefly troubled.

“Since his fortunate encounter, he’s had resources no one else had—formulas, information, pills, intelligence, vision, connections. He’s not poor at all; he’s very rich. All his efforts are just to realize the potential of these hidden resources.”

Liu Qigang’s knowledge of mass-produced literature was surprisingly thorough, leaving Si Chongtian speechless. “Look at the protagonists of those juvenile literary works—either born with special bones or physique, or their fathers and grandfathers hold high positions with navy, rebels, and underworld connections, or they’ve received precious blessings before birth, or have assistance from powerful beings from higher dimensions. Some are even reincarnations of immortals’ sons, and such things are as common as dirt.

“They claim to be grassroots, from the bottom, but they’re not. These mass-produced stories have many absurdities, but one thing is absolutely true—those without foundation, background, or assistance just can’t advance or see as far as those who do.

“Think about the rivals and villains who are constantly surpassed—they’re always like that.

“Now think about the protagonists. Who truly succeeds solely by themselves? Who has no help, relying purely on personal effort? None.

“Do you know why? Because readers don’t like it. Why don’t they like it? Because it’s painfully obvious—they, from authors to readers, deep down think those without fortunate encounters can’t rise. Maybe they don’t consciously realize it, but do you see readers willing to read stories about protagonists who succeed purely by hard struggle?

“They don’t.

“Because they don’t believe it.

“They don’t believe pure personal effort can lead to success.”

Liu Qigang’s finger slammed forcefully on the table. “That, my dear nephew, is what it means to be lowly.”

Si Chongtian’s face flushed deeply with frustration. He disagreed with Liu Qigang’s words and racked his brain for a counterexample. Suddenly, he thought of one. “It’s not like there aren’t those who rise by themselves! The White-robed Empress, the Devouring Heaven Demon Technique, once a cripple, yet self-formed into the primordial…”

“Don’t talk to me about novels,” Liu Qigang snapped. “Nephew, have you heard the story of ‘Why not eat meat porridge?’ You’re just a kid who talks like that.”