In an alleyway in a large city you could see a unhealthily thin teen eating a piece of moldy bread he found in on a street, he had a name but he didn't like to recall it due to some trauma. He was an orphan, he had parents but he didn't like to remember due to some trauma. He refered to himself as Aren to others, there wasn't any profound meaning behind it, it was just easy to say with his degraded vocalcourds.
His body kept telling him to throw his newest meal up, but he did his best to stop himself like always. He shivered a bit with a sudden breese, his rags not protecting him from the elements. He wasn't one of those martial artist or cultivators able to produce feats far beyond human limits, he wished he was though.
He stood up shakily, his movents unstable. He traversed the alleyways in the glow of twilight, producing groans and the sound of stumbling, however much he didn't want to. After a few grueling minutes, he stood before a manhole cover. He took a blue-ish stone out of a make-shift pocket hidden on the inside of his rags, he hovered it before the manhole cover hearing the click of a lock unlocking.
He hid his blue stone once more, and started to struggle in wrangling the cover loose of the pavement. His arms sweating after opening it, he stumbled while entering the manhole. After half his body was inside of it he draged the loose cover, he draged it closer while going down. It was slow but it was best to be safe, when the cover was once again in the hole he again hovered a the blue stone infront of it until he heard the signature click of a lock locking.
He slowly decended the ladder, afraid of falling and obtaining an open wound. after carefully touching the ground he traversed the sewers, stumbling. Taking the path of left-left-right-left-right-right over more than an hour of slowly walking, his stomach growling occasionally. When he arrived at his destination, he saw a little abode with a tent slightly hidden enter his vision.
It was the place he lived, it was extremely uncomfortable. It was heaven compared to the makeshift living spaces most of the other homeless had, who had to suffer most of the elements.
He slowly entered his tent and did his best to ignore the sounds sewage flowing, he wouldn't be able to sleep but he still needed rest. over a few hours of pain and hunger he layed on the cold floor, the only seperation between him and the stone his uncomfortable rough rags.
Unlike the previous months, he heard footsteps and another teenager ramble to himself in anger "Trash...birthday...martial..." the angry teen slowly came closer, the footsteps louder and his voice clearer "I don't w... Fen Su... poor pare... assho..." At one moment he shouted "Fucking trash! Making fun of me! How dare they! They are courting death!"
Aren heard after that, the noise of something being thrown and landing reverbrate in the sewers. The angry teen then stomped off, leaving only the sound of sewage flowing. Aren didn't understand what happened that well, but he was scared out of his wits. People don't usually come down here, due to the sewage. He hadn't needed to hide his abode well, due to the people that come down here wanting to get out as fast as possible or don't even enter the sewers.
He stayed hidden in his little tent for hours, trembling in fear. He didn't know who that teen was but from what he gathered, he was from a martial family or was a martial artist. And you don't mess with either, if you want to live of course.
When he left his little tent, he saw a bag. He instantly made a huge smile "As they say 'One man's trash is another man's treasure.'." He wispered to himself in unbridled joy. He entered his tent with his new bag, including what it contained.
When he was in his shabby tent he opened it, expecting complete trash. When he looked inside of it he saw, a wooden box covered by cloth and a thin booklet with the words 'Base arts'.
He couldn't believe his luck, well he could but it was an amazing amount luck still. But just to be sure he unwrapped the cloth, and his dreams came true. Inside the box was salted meat, or 'jerky'. It was going to taste like shit or pure salt and he would have to chew it for minutes with each bite, but it was protein that he was missing.
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The book that he considered less important than the jerky was a well known martial manual, it wasn't a real martial art. It had the base of most martial arts, including the way to handle basic weapons and some rarer ones, a standard footwork technique, and a base body refining technique. They all don't have any large drawbacks, and it was valued very highly by all non-cultivator/martial artist.
He took stock of all his possesions to make sure he wasn't dreaming, a tent, a clay bucket with water from the river that he made, his rags, the key that let him enter the sewers, and a clay bowl full of grain that he stole. Everything was there, he wouldn't need to take the chance of walking around in the alleyways for a while.
First he went back to resting, you can't do anything without rest. definitely not martial arts books, those are annoying to learn his father told hi...
After few more hours of laying on the cold floor, Aren felt like he didn't need to rest anymore and he couldn't contain his excitement in learning martial arts. And why wouldn't he be excited? If he learned it, then he would be at the top of the homeless. And just a few weeks of hard work as a martial artist would be enough to break the barrier between being homeless and renting a room consistantly.
He took out one of the jerky and chewed on it while reading the base arts, he flipped the pages to the footwork section. He highly disliked stumbling constantly, and he was one of the homeless that were literate, so he didn't need to waste his time decoding the language.
The footwork technique wasn't that hard to understand, there was unnesesary language/ poetry in there but the simple kind. Like 'only those stable can stand' and the like, he wasn't able to understand it well in the first session. But he was able to comprehend a few things, like a part of how I should position my feet while walking on a brisk pace.
If looked apon while he used his small understanding, he would look very strange. But he was more stable while walking, he stumbled a little bit less than before. But in truth his stumble trouble would've gone away if he refined his body, he stumbled due to a weak body but he thought it was due to other circumstances.
He went back to resting, not knowing he had read through the night. He slowly overtime got into the routine of resting, reading and practicing his footwork technique, and eating his daily rations. There was a shock two days after the teen threw Aren's treasure, he reapeared. He sounded panicked from what Aren heard from his tent, luckily for Aren he didn't find his tent.
Slowly a few weeks went by, after which he no longer had food to ration. He thought he had made good progress with his footwork, which he was, it was just going a bit slower than others. He could now walk at a normal pace without stumbling, that still made him a noble in the homeless world. But he didn't know that, he didn't even know there was a community of homeless.
He left the sewers and walked around, he felt the progress he made. He couldn't run, but no more stumbling. If he lost the rags he could look like a regular member of society, then he could start making some cash. If he was lucky with his martial arts training he may still be able to become a cultivator, he still remembered that he had some talent in it, his parents tested i...
He went on the route he walked daily before his luck had blessed him, there was a pile-up of trash from while he was gone. Over his time as a homeless teenager he started to reconize the benifits of letting homeless hide in the shadows of the city, they cleaned up anything they came across. And who wouldn't accept free labor, as long as they weren't seen by the populace there weren't any problems.
he started to put anything he could find in his bag, with more inthusiasm than the most devoted garbage collector in the world. he was going faster than ever before, being able to walk through an alley way in less than 5 minutes does that to people.
He was able to make a few rounds, he left his new supplies next to his tent. When he came back you could already see had made a miniscule amount of extra progress, he did at least 'It looks like the book was right, practical use helps the most in martial arts.' He was a little annoyed that he didn't listen to the book on that, if he did he would've gotten way further. That's what he believed, and it was true, all he had to do in exchange was not get caught by others.
He got a feeling that told him to increase the area he scoured for suplies, with his stumbling ways behind him he should be able to get way more. If he got enough cloth he would be able to improve his rags, now that would be a dream come true. But before his greed took hold, he needed a way to secure his teritory. He did so previously by killing people that started living here in their sleep, at least there was enough trash so he didn't need to consume human.
He flipped through the pages for base battle techniques, specifically one that didn't need a weapon. There were a few, one focusing more on the upper body, the other the lower, the last focusing on the whole body. He then flipped to the body refinement section, yes section. There was a base body refinement, the early stages of body refinement, tales of the top of body refinement, a warning about not being able to continue body refinement after becoming a cultivator, ect.