Imparting Insights

As he was happily enjoying breakfast, the door was suddenly pushed open.

Zhao Guangyi strode in, then plopped himself down across from him without ceremony.

"Junior Brother, it's time to instruct the Martial Disciples again today."

Zhao Guangyi got straight to the point.

"Mmph, Senior Brother, go teach at the training grounds—I'll definitely be the first one there to cheer you on!"

With a meat bun stuffed in his mouth, Jiang Qinghe answered indistinctly and casually handed one over.

Zhao Guangyi accepted the bun, but a mysterious smile appeared on his face.

"Haha, not me this time. Junior Brother, you'll be teaching personally."

"What?!"

Jiang Qinghe was so shocked that a mouthful of bun caught in his throat, nearly making him pass out.

"Come to think of it, you've only just entered Master's tutelage, so naturally you wouldn't have known about this unwritten rule."

Zhao Guangyi shook his head and explained,

"Among the disciples, the one with the lowest seniority must regularly take charge of guiding the Martial Disciples in their cultivation."

"Senior Brother, but... I haven't even fully grasped the essence of the Body Tempering realm myself."

Jiang Qinghe's face instantly turned as bitter as a bitter melon.

"Ah, but what? Back then, Senior Brother here was just like you—I went up there muddleheaded too!"

Zhao Guangyi earnestly tried to persuade him.

"Your realm is right there. Your horizons are naturally higher than theirs. Just grit your teeth and do it!"

"Besides,"

His tone shifted, carrying the certainty of someone speaking from experience.

"Teaching others is itself a form of cultivation! When you stand in Master's position and analyze the martial path, then reflect upon yourself, the insights and gains you receive will be far greater than burying your head in bitter training alone!"

"Alright... alright."

Jiang Qinghe reluctantly agreed, though inwardly he grumbled, No wonder he was so happy to have a Junior Brother. The burden of guiding Martial Disciples finally didn't have to fall on his head anymore. That definitely accounted for quite a bit of it!

Still, thoughts were thoughts. He would never shirk the responsibility he ought to bear.

Now that he had formally entered Elder Ping's tutelage and received his teachings, he naturally had to shoulder the corresponding obligations.

After finishing a hearty meal, Jiang Qinghe wiped the corners of his mouth with lingering satisfaction. He called out to Zhao Guangyi, then rose and left the dining hall.

Before he even reached the training grounds, sharp-eyed Martial Disciples spotted him from afar, and eager greetings came pouring in.

"Good morning, Senior Brother Jiang!"

"Senior Brother Jiang's bearing is even sharper than it was two days ago. You must have improved again!"

The Martial Disciples around him gathered close like stars surrounding the moon.

Among them were youths around his own age, as well as young men in their twenties.

Some were even past thirty, with children already running all over the ground.

They had spent twenty taels of silver, savings accumulated over many years, to come here, pouring in countless hours and drops of sweat.

Yet after half a year, if they could not afford to renew their fees, they could only leave in dejection.

"Most of them are probably persevering for that distant, unreachable dream of the martial path in their hearts."

Looking at the faces before him—some youthful, some weathered, yet all equally filled with longing—Jiang Qinghe felt deeply moved.

After all, if one took a gamble, even if nothing came of it, at least one had tried their best and could live without regrets.

But if one had never attempted it at all, one might carry that regret for the rest of one's life.

A fortuitous encounter like his, allowing him to rise to become Elder Ping's disciple in such a short time—

In the end, it was one of a kind and could not be replicated.

Standing atop the high platform at the training grounds, Jiang Qinghe looked around, still feeling slightly dazed.

The soul occupying this body was, at its core, merely a twenty-year-old modern-day shut-in.

Though repeated trials, calamities, and slaughter had honed his temperament into something exceedingly resilient,

When it came to teaching martial arts and guiding others,

Jiang Qinghe instinctively felt a little awkward and at a loss. For a moment, he did not even know where to begin.

At this moment, Xiao Hei and Gong Jie were also among the crowd. When their gazes met his, the two exchanged a tacit wink, sending him a signal of encouragement.

When he glanced toward the edge of the grounds again, Zhao Guangyi was standing there with his arms folded, though Jiang Qinghe had no idea when he had arrived.

He watched with great interest, a teasing smile on his face that seemed to say, "Let's see how you handle this."

Jiang Qinghe took a deep breath and forced himself to calm down.

His mind raced in an instant, rapidly replaying all the hard training, breakthroughs, and insights of recent days like a revolving lantern.

The improvement of cultivation techniques came from strength being directly poured into sinews, bones, flesh, and blood. What it brought was more instinctive control over the body than clearly describable experience.

Martial skills, however, were Completely Different. Every rise in realm came with countless exquisite fragments of memory merging into his mind.

They were profound realizations concerning the movement of techniques, the flow of force, and the grasp of timing.

Especially Rock Crushing Palm—every breakthrough from entry level to Minor Accomplishment.

Every minute crucial point along the way, every lesson from failure, and every realization born of success had been branded into his heart like marks from a hot iron.

Speaking only of his depth of understanding of this martial skill from entry level to Minor Accomplishment, he even dared say that Elder Ping himself, who had passed down this skill, might not understand it as meticulously as he did, seeing so clearly into its very source.

After all, Elder Ping might have accomplished it in one uninterrupted sweep back then, whereas Jiang Qinghe had relied on the panel to break down every single stage.

His steady voice rang clearly across the training grounds.

"Some time ago, Senior Brother Zhao already imparted the essentials of the Iron Shirt Skill to everyone in great detail. His explanation Can Be Called flawless and beyond reproach. Today, I will share some of my shallow insights regarding Rock Crushing Palm."

The moment the Martial Disciples below heard Jiang Qinghe speak, they immediately held their breath and pricked up their ears. The grounds fell silent in an instant.

Over these past days, Jiang Qinghe had cultivated without pause. From his astonishing feat of lifting the thousand-jin Stone Lock during the assessment, to defeating the prodigy Qin Wu in the contest between the two courtyards and securing a greater share of Blood Activating Powder for everyone, he had long since earned their heartfelt respect.

But what made them itch with anticipation even more was Jiang Qinghe's almost monstrous cultivation speed, along with the experience Contained within it!

If they could catch even the slightest glimpse of it, it might bring them a tangible improvement.

"The core of Rock Crushing Palm lies in shattering, not in brute force. Force must gather together, like a needle piercing cloth, like water seeping through sand."

As his words fell, Jiang Qinghe leaped down from the high platform and landed lightly before a heavy wooden post used for practice. He slowly assumed the opening stance of Rock Crushing Palm.

Everyone held their breath. They saw him raise his palm slightly. His five fingers were not taut like iron; instead, they carried a strange sense of looseness. Only the muscle Lines along his wrist and forearm were drawn tight like steel cables.

"Watch carefully!"

With a low shout from Jiang Qinghe, the gathered force suddenly erupted when his palm was merely an inch away from the wooden post!

Pfft—

The spot on the wooden post struck by his palm instantly caved in, while every other part remained unchanged.

"Force rises from the root, travels through the waist and legs, passes through the shoulders and arms, and gathers in the palm and wrist."

Jiang Qinghe withdrew his palm and stood upright, clearly explaining the path of exertion.

"Your force must be like an awl, piercing through the surface and reaching straight inside. Many of you appear fierce when exerting force, but your force is actually scattered. When you strike a wooden post, it is like beating a drum with a hammer—the sound is loud, but the power is shallow."