Chapter 4: Learning Martial Arts

“Knock, knock!”

Yang Xing stepped forward and rapped on the door. Before long, a head popped out, “What is it?”

“I’m here to learn boxing.”

“Have you gathered the tuition?”

“Yes, I have.”

“Come in, then.”

The main gate opened, and Yang Xing followed the man into the courtyard.

The courtyard was not large. On the left, dozens of bare-chested men were practicing their punches, the sounds of fists striking the air ringing incessantly.

Beneath a camphor tree nearby, a middle-aged man in a black robe sat in a grand armchair, leisurely sipping tea. This was Shen Lin, the master of Debao Martial Hall.

“So, boy, you want to practice boxing?” Shen Lin put down his teacup and glanced at Yang Xing.

“Yes,” Yang Xing replied with a nod.

“What’s your name and where are you from?” Shen Lin asked.

“My name is Yang Xing, and I live in Spring Breeze Alley.”

Shen Lin nodded slightly. “You’re aware of the rules here, aren’t you?”

Yang Xing produced a silver bangle. “If one brings sufficient tuition, I will never withhold instruction.”

Shen Lin took the bangle and examined it. “Good. This will cover three months of study here. If you haven’t tempered your body by then, you’ll have to leave. Can you accept that?”

Three months!?

Such a hefty silver bangle for only three months of training?

Yang Xing was secretly astonished, but he nodded outwardly, “I can accept that.”

Shen Lin nodded. “Let me check your bone structure. Brace yourself.”

With that, Shen Lin placed his palm under Yang Xing’s arm, feeling along one of his ribs.

A wave of numbness and weakness swept through Yang Xing’s body, nearly robbing him of strength.

“Your bone structure is below average—not outstanding, but not terrible either. You’re a bit older than most beginners,” Shen Lin mused for a moment before continuing, “Still, you have a chance at tempering your body successfully.”

Around them, several disciples smirked; clearly, Shen Lin had spoken such words to many before.

Yang Xing quickly cupped his fist and said, “I will follow Master’s guidance.”

Seeing Yang Xing’s obedient and sensible manner, Shen Lin’s mood improved. He lifted his teacup, “Since it’s your first day, I’ll explain a bit more to you.”

Yang Xing’s eyes lit up, and he immediately listened intently. A few other new disciples also gathered around.

Shen Lin began, “What does true martial training mean? How are we different from ordinary folk...”

“Master, the noodles are here,” a disciple called out, bringing over a bowl.

Shen Lin took the bowl and chopsticks, and the aroma instantly reached Yang Xing’s nose.

It was a large bowl of wheat noodles, glistening with lard and topped with a generous sprinkle of scallions, their fragrance wafting through the air.

Most important of all, two fried eggs sat to the side.

To enjoy such a bowl of noodles in these times was proof of Shen Lin’s comfortable life.

“If only there were some garlic, it’d be perfect,” Shen Lin said after a bite, glancing at the crowd staring hungrily. “What? Standing around listening to me boast won’t make you stronger! Go train—if you fail to temper your bodies, you’ll regret it!”

At his words, the group scattered like startled birds and beasts.

Only Yang Xing remained where he was.

“Let’s continue—where was I?” Shen Lin scratched his head.

“We’re different from ordinary people,” Yang Xing reminded him, curiosity burning in his heart. Was the martial training of this world like in his former life, all for show and no substance?

“Yes, that’s it.” Shen Lin took another mouthful of noodles. “We are stronger than common folk, our bodies more agile. The goal of martial arts isn’t health or longevity—it’s killing.”

“Martial arts, at their core, are techniques of killing!”

“And how to make you stronger, more agile—that’s the heart and key of training.”

Yang Xing was shaken at these words.

He had come to the right place.

True martial arts were never mere empty display.

Shen Lin continued as he ate, “Here at Debao Martial Hall, we train the Palm That Splits the Sky. The stronger and faster you make your palms, the more unbeatable you’ll become.”

“Shi Tou, take Yang Xing to temper his strength. Start him with the basics.”

Though Shen Lin was the master, he did not instruct every disciple personally—only those with exceptional talent who might one day inherit the hall received his full attention.

“Yes!” A burly, honest-looking man came over. “Junior Yang, my name is Shi Hao. From today, you’ll temper your strength under my guidance.”

Shi Hao handed Yang Xing a set of clothes.

It was the training uniform of Debao Martial Hall—an old cotton jacket with the character “Shen” emblazoned on it.

“Take good care of this jacket,” Shi Hao cautioned. “If you don’t make the cut, it will be taken back.”

For ordinary folk, a cotton jacket was a precious possession.

After Yang Xing had changed, he asked, “Senior Shi, do you know any internal cultivation methods?”

“Internal cultivation? What’s that?” Shi Hao scratched his head. “I’ve only trained the Palm That Splits the Sky.”

Honest and obedient—he was clearly often at Shen Lin’s beck and call.

Shi Hao led Yang Xing to a wooden stake. “Since you’re new, you’ll start with standing post practice alongside me.”

“Standing post?” Yang Xing was taken aback. He’d paid a silver bangle just to stand still?

Shi Hao explained, “Standing post is not as simple as it seems. It contains methods of our Palm That Splits the Sky. Not only does it increase your strength, but also makes your vital energy more robust. When you reach a peak, you can undergo a body-tempering breakthrough.”

With that, Shi Hao demonstrated a strange posture before the wooden stake.

“There’s a chant for standing post: One turn, two align, three release, four probe, five gather, six press; seven rub the ball, eight keep still—master the eight, and the post is complete.”

“Give it a try.”

Yang Xing followed Shi Hao’s movements on the post, but he couldn’t last long before he fell off.

Clearly, standing post was not as easy as it looked.

“Senior Shi, what do you mean by vital energy and body tempering?” Yang Xing asked.

“Body tempering is reaching the peak of vital energy and refining the body. If you master the Palm That Splits the Sky, you can temper your body three times, awakening clear force, hidden force, and transforming force,” Shi Hao explained.

“When you can stand on this post for an hour, you can attempt your first body tempering. But there’s a risk of failure.”

Yang Xing asked anxiously, “Is the risk of failure high?”

“Very high—about seventy percent,” Shi Hao replied. “But once you reach clear force, you’ll be far stronger than most, and eligible for the provincial martial exams.”

Martial exams!?

At those words, Yang Xing’s heart surged with excitement.

The fastest way to rise in life was to pass the martial exams. Becoming a martial scholar or a martial licentiate would change one’s status entirely.

After all, in this world, what group could rival the Martial Nation?

Shi Hao gave a few more instructions, then told Yang Xing to begin practicing the post.

Yang Xing mounted the wooden stake and practiced as instructed.

At that moment, a string of golden characters appeared in his mind’s eye.

[Split-the-Sky Post Skill Entry (1/100): Practice ten times a day, diligence overcomes weakness; achieve small success in three months, great success in a year.]

Yang Xing’s heart leapt. “Others may not succeed, but as long as I train diligently, I’m guaranteed to break through.”

His destined talent lay in this: with three months’ effort he could achieve small mastery, while others might never break through despite their toil. For him, diligence would always be rewarded.

Motivated, Yang Xing began to train in earnest.

“Post practice is the core of internal martial arts. As the saying goes, ‘Practice without the post is wasted effort in old age.’”

From time to time, Shen Lin would pass by, offering guidance to the disciples.

All afternoon, the courtyard was filled with grunts and shouts.

By evening, Yang Xing was so sore and exhausted that even walking was difficult.

“Time to eat! Time to eat!” someone suddenly called, and the men in the courtyard howled like hungry wolves.

At Debao Martial Hall, two meals a day were provided—rough cornmeal cakes and pickled vegetables.

Those from wealthier families would return home to eat; the poor remained at the hall for their meals.

Afterward, all disciples would soak in a medicinal bath.

It was curious—after soaking, Yang Xing immediately felt lighter on his feet and sensed a subtle increase in his vital energy.

The bath’s effects did not end there. The next day, Yang Xing felt no pain at all, and his post practice improved even more.

Yang Xing mused, “This Debao Martial Hall truly offers something valuable. No wonder a silver bangle only covers three months of training.”