Sun’s Martial Hall, front courtyard.
Yang Jing’s punches grew heavier and heavier. Sweat slid down the line of his jaw, dripping onto the bluestone slabs and spreading into small dark patches.
He seemed utterly unaware of it, repeating the forms of the Mountain-Shattering Fist over and over. Every punch looked as though he were struggling against himself.
By the wall, several disciples who were resting spoke in low voices, their gazes falling on Yang Jing, who was wholly absorbed in his practice.
“Look at Senior Brother Yang. He’s really got drive. He came before daybreak and hasn’t rested once until now.”
A newly arrived young disciple sighed softly, admiration in his eyes. “If it were me, I’d have collapsed long ago.”
Someone beside him gave a scornful laugh. He was an older disciple who had been in the hall for three months, arms folded as he looked sideways at Yang Jing practicing his punches. “What’s the use of working hard? In martial arts, what matters is talent and root bone. He’s been here almost half a year and he’s still circling around the entry stage. He hasn’t even experienced a single Gate Knocking. That shows just how terrible his root bone is. No matter how much he trains, he’s just wasting effort.”
“Exactly,” another disciple chimed in, his tone full of disdain. “I heard Senior Brother Zhang Kehan say that this Yang Jing used to hang around with them. Now he’s putting on this act. Does he really think he can succeed in knocking at the gate just by training like his life depends on it? Didn’t he see that more than half the people more talented than him have already left?”
“I bet he won’t last these next two weeks. Maybe before he even gets the chance to knock at the gate, he won’t be able to take the pressure himself and will slink away in disgrace.”
Yang Jing paid no mind to the words of others.
After all, he had lived two lives, and had even experienced something like transmigration. Naturally, his heart was steady.
Over the past few months, he had endured all manner of cold words and ridicule. None of it could shake him in the slightest.
Yang Jing continued practicing earnestly, his punches still fierce and forceful.
The hall master, Sun Yong, came out from the inner courtyard. He merely glanced at Yang Jing from afar, then shook his head and walked away to guide Lin Yue’s cultivation.
In this martial hall, root bone was more precious than sweat. Most people had long grown accustomed to measuring everything by results, and no one was willing to believe that someone with mediocre root bone could create a miracle.
Only that newly arrived youth remained standing where he was, watching Yang Jing’s sweat-soaked back as he clenched his own fists.
In the shadow by the courtyard wall.
Zhou Lin nudged Zhang Kehan with her elbow and jerked her chin toward Yang Jing. “Look at him. He’s still training like a fool over there, like a spinning top, going round and round without knowing tiredness.”
Zhang Kehan followed her gaze and saw Yang Jing driving punch after punch into the wooden post, veins bulging on his forehead. He could not help letting out a low laugh. “Isn’t that the truth? Even at this point, he’s still clinging to that tiny bit of hope. Does he really think hard work alone can defy the heavens and change his fate? If he doesn’t hurry up and work things out, find some connections, and see whether he can stay in the city, when the time comes, he’ll probably have to roll up his bedding and go back to Wazi Township to farm.”
“We’re having dinner with Lü Yang tonight. We should bring this up properly. I guarantee he’ll laugh until his stomach hurts.” Zhou Lin curled her lip, a trace of mockery in her voice. “Back then, I really didn’t expect him to become some martial arts fanatic. Too bad he’s gone mad in the wrong place.”
It had already been more than half a year since Lü Yang joined the martial hall. Failing to step into the Mingjin realm, he had left the hall a month ago. The three of them still occasionally met up, though less and less frequently. Tonight, however, they had arranged to eat together.
Zhang Kehan nodded and chuckled. His laughter was very low, yet carried a distinct flavor of taking pleasure in another’s misfortune.
He and Zhou Lin did not have many days left to stay in the martial hall either. Watching Yang Jing “struggle” like this had become a rare source of amusement.
On the open ground on the other side.
Qi Yun was exchanging moves with Lin Yue.
She had already entered Anjin, and her skills far surpassed Lin Yue’s, yet she deliberately held back her strength. Only when a flaw appeared in his moves would she lightly guide him, offering gentle pointers as she did. That friendly manner was completely different from how she usually behaved.
Clearly, she was intentionally trying to befriend this junior brother with extraordinary talent.
“Master.” Lin Yue’s eyes were sharp; he was the first to notice Hall Master Sun Yong walking over, and he hurriedly withdrew his stance.
Qi Yun also turned around and respectfully saluted.
Sun Yong waved his hand, his gaze settling on Lin Yue. Pointing at the path of his punch from moments earlier, he said, “In this move, ‘Shatter Mountains and Split Stone,’ you released your force too hastily. The qi in your dantian didn’t sink properly. It must be like striking a bell—store first, then release.”
As he spoke, he raised his hand and demonstrated.
Lin Yue listened intently, nodding from time to time.
Qi Yun stood to the side. Seeing that there was nothing for her to do, she quietly withdrew.
As she passed through the courtyard, her gaze swept over Yang Jing. Seeing him still bent over in bitter practice, sweat streaming from his forehead like water, the sound of his fists striking the wooden post dull and stubborn, she could not help giving a scornful laugh before turning her head away.
Hopelessly stupid.
She thought inwardly, He’s about to be swept out the door, yet he still wants to gamble on that so-called sliver of hope. Truly laughable and pitiful.
In her view, a wise person submitted to circumstances. To insist on doing what one clearly knew could not be done was not perseverance, but foolishness.
By the time the sun climbed overhead, Yang Jing’s movements gradually became sluggish. His qi and blood surged violently, and beads of sweat rolled more densely across his forehead.
He was just about to adjust his breathing when a gentle voice sounded from behind him.
“Junior Brother, sink your shoulders. Don’t raise them. The Mountain-Shattering Fist emphasizes the unity of waist and stance. Your punch looks fierce, but all its force is leaking out through your shoulders.”
Liu Maolin walked over and lightly pressed a hand onto his shoulder. A calm, steady force came through, and Yang Jing immediately felt the tension in his shoulders and neck ease considerably.
“Thank you, Senior Brother.” Yang Jing panted as he adjusted his posture according to the advice. Sure enough, the route of his punches felt smoother.
“Don’t rush. Take it slowly. You can definitely do it!” Liu Maolin patted him on the back, his eyes filled with sincere encouragement. “Knocking at the gate doesn’t depend only on root bone. Spirit matters too. This drive of yours is stronger than many people’s.”
Yang Jing nodded, warmth spreading through his heart. He had just been about to say something more when Liu Maolin pointed at his footwork again. “Make your steps steadier, like roots planted in the ground.”
Beneath the locust tree not far away, Qi Yun took all of this in, the corner of her mouth curving into a sneer.
She had just come from Lin Yue’s side and still held a piece of osmanthus cake in her hand, freshly bought from the street by Zhang Kehan at her request. It was something Lin Yue liked to eat, and she had specifically had someone buy it for him.
“They really are a pair of fools.”
Qi Yun sneered inwardly.
Liu Maolin had no small amount of prestige in Sun’s Martial Hall, and in terms of strength, he ranked among the top. Yet his judgment happened to be terribly poor; he was actually spending his thoughts on a disciple like Yang Jing, who was destined to be eliminated.
Guidance? Encouragement?
It was simply wasted effort.
Yang Jing’s root bone was mediocre, and he had already dragged things out to the edge of the time limit. Even if an immortal came to guide him, nothing would change. What was putting effort into someone like him, if not a loss with no return?
She glanced at Lin Yue, who had been called aside by their master to speak not far away, and a shrewd glint flashed in her eyes.
Compared to a piece of scrap iron like Yang Jing, Lin Yue was the true prospect. Now that the hall master valued him as well, his future was limitless.
If she built a good relationship with him now, then when he soared into the sky in the future, as one of the first to befriend him, how could the benefits she gained be something that rotten fish and shrimp like Yang Jing could compare to?
Qi Yun straightened her lapels, carried the osmanthus cake, and walked toward Lin Yue with a bright smile.
When she passed by Yang Jing and Liu Maolin, she did not even spare them a sidelong glance. Rather than wasting time on fools, it was better to seize the moment and manage her connections. That was the true way to gain a foothold.
Yang Jing turned a deaf ear to every discussion from the outside world and focused entirely on practicing his punches.
He had already trained the Mountain-Shattering Fist to the limit of the entry stage. If it was truly as the panel said, and he had no bottlenecks when cultivating any cultivation method or martial art, then his breakthrough into the Mingjin realm should be today.
Time passed second by second.
Soon, an hour had gone by.
As noon approached, some people were already preparing to leave for lunch.
Yang Jing was still practicing his punches with all his heart and soul.
Many disciples had long since grown used to this, sighing that Yang Jing’s root bone was too poor. Otherwise, with this perseverance, he would still have had some hope of developing force.
In the field.
Yang Jing’s punches had just reached their most vigorous point when he suddenly felt a soft “buzz” within his body, as though an invisible membrane had abruptly shattered.