"Don't look around, Chu Ming can't help you transcribe. Look at me, Kid Hou. As long as you tell me where you got this cultivation technique, I'll take you in as my disciple," Shao Pengshu said.
"Really?" Hou Wuchun was instantly excited. "If my mother knew I could have Lord Shao as my teacher... Master, just wait."
Shao Pengshu pulled Hou Wuchun back, "Why are you running to Chu Ming? Can't write? Want Chu Ming to help you transcribe?"
"Though Chu Ming can write, he's not a martial artist. His transcription of the cultivation technique lacks the essence; it's just form without intent."
"Tell me where to transcribe it, and I'll personally go."
Hou Wuchun shook his head, "I can write, Master. Let go of me, I'll go ask Brother Chu."
"You can write, then transcribe it yourself. What's the point of begging Chu Ming? You're talking gibberish!"
Hou Wuchun, sweating from anxiety, said, "Master, Brother Chu, Brother Chu."
