A Do-or-Die Resolve

Time galloped like a whipped horse; the years flowed away like falling blossoms and running water.

In the blink of an eye, another three days had passed.

Dawn had barely broken when a faint aroma of meat drifted from Yang Jing's room in Datong Ward.

The Horse Meat in the clay pot had been stewed until tender. With hot broth, he heartily ate more than a pound. The familiar warmth in his belly slowly spread, soothing his sinews and bones and lending a touch of warmth to the morning.

After clearing away the bowls and chopsticks, he tucked his only two hundred copper coins into his clothes and headed for the Sun Clan Martial Arts School in Chengping Ward.

The bluestone pavement was wet with morning dew and slightly sticky beneath his feet, but his thoughts had long since begun to churn.

Even if he spent the little money in his sleeve sparingly, it would not last him five days.

He knew perfectly well that every bit of money he needed for martial arts training had been scraped together from the food rations his entire family had saved by tightening their belts.

His whole family's hopes rested on his shoulders. That crushing weight was heavier than any burden he bore while practicing his fists.

The silver he had gotten from Feng Lei had long since been withdrawn and spent by Yang Jing. Now, not a single coin remained.

If this continued, his family would find it difficult to support his training any longer. They would not even be able to afford Horse Meat, and his martial arts progress would slow down considerably.

After all, his natural endowment was poor to begin with, and his training progress had always been slower than that of the other disciples. If it slowed further...

"I need to find a way to earn money. My future training expenses and the martial arts school's regular fees will all require money."

Yang Jing unconsciously clenched his fists, his fingertips turning white.

At that thought, his heart sank slightly.

Fortunately, he was now close to pushing the beginner stage of Mountain Collapse Fist to its limit. He was only separated from producing Inner Force and breaking through to the Bright Strength realm by a single sheet of window paper.

Perhaps... I can break through to the Bright Strength realm today. Yang Jing thought excitedly.

Once he broke through to the Bright Strength realm, he would become an official disciple of School Master Sun Yong. The apprenticeship fee would be greatly reduced, saving him a substantial sum.

Moreover, after breaking through to the Bright Strength realm, he could be considered an "expert" even in Yuhe County.

Many prominent families, shops, and escort agencies would extend olive branches, inviting martial arts school disciples to take up posts with them, something like part-time work.

The pay for a Bright Strength expert holding such a post was extremely generous. At the very least, Yang Jing would no longer need to stretch out his hand for money from his family, who were already starving and freezing.

He quickened his pace and followed Vermilion Bird Street to Chengping Ward near the Inner City.

The outline of the Sun Clan Martial Arts School gradually became clearer, its bronze eave bells tinkling softly in the wind.

"It all comes down to today!"

Yang Jing muttered under his breath, his gaze sharp as a blade.

Arriving before the gates of the Sun Clan Martial Arts School, Yang Jing reached out and pushed. With a creak, the gates swung open.

Yang Jing stepped inside.

The front courtyard was silent. A thin layer of frost still clung to the bluestone slabs, and only the bronze bells beneath the eaves occasionally chimed in the morning breeze.

Yang Jing did not pause. He first removed his shirt, revealing his firm, lean upper body, then walked to the center of the yard. Holding his arms level, he sank into a horse stance before lifting the Stone Lock to Temper Qi and Blood.

His breathing gradually slowed from quick to steady. Each inhalation and exhalation carried a faint rush of air. The energy accumulated in his body from eating Horse Meat transformed into waves of warmth that rose within him.

Half an hour later, Yang Jing had finished warming up. He lowered his waist, gathered his breath, and assumed the opening stance of Mountain Collapse Fist.

His fist wind shattered the frost, crashing through the empty courtyard with dull echoes. Every move was as steady as a boulder, carrying a ruthless force of staking everything on a single throw.

As the sun slowly climbed higher and golden light spilled over the walls, the martial arts school's disciples began arriving one after another.

Footsteps came in twos and threes. Most were young faces, with male disciples making up the overwhelming majority and only a handful of female disciples, totaling roughly thirty people.

When they saw Yang Jing already practicing in the yard, many admired him deeply. Several new disciples even respectfully called out, "Senior Brother Yang."

Hearing the new disciples call to him, Yang Jing's heart stirred slightly.

When he had first entered the martial arts school, he had been a greenhorn trailing after others and calling them "Senior Brother." Yet without realizing it, he had become the "Senior Brother" in the mouths of his junior brothers.

But how much hardship and bitter endurance lay hidden behind that form of address—only he himself knew.

The disciples scattered to practice their fists, and the front courtyard gradually grew lively.

Yang Jing glanced over the crowd. Of the disciples who had entered the martial arts school around the same time as him, only two or three remained, still training diligently in a corner. The rest had long since disappeared without a trace.

The rule set by School Master Sun Yong was ironclad and impartial—if one failed to break through to Bright Strength within half a year of entering the school, one could only roll up one's bedding and leave.

Today marked the sixth month since he had entered the school. In theory, he had only his final half month left. In many people's eyes, he had not even reached a single Breakthrough attempt yet. His chances of breaking through to Bright Strength were zero, and this would also be his last half month at the Sun Clan Martial Arts School.

He thought of those fellow disciples who had left.

Some had families that truly could no longer afford to support them. When their parents came to fetch them with luggage on their backs, the guilt in their eyes outweighed their reluctance to part.

Some had failed their Breakthrough attempts—some even failed twice, three times—injuring their meridians. Watching their hands and feet grow increasingly sluggish, they knew they had no fate with Entering Strength, and could only pack their things and leave with reddened eyes.

And even more disciples who left the martial arts school reportedly returned to their rural hometowns to farm, working at sunrise and resting at sunset. Some went to the docks, carrying cargo as they scraped out a living amid wind and waves. Some became guards for wealthy households, living by reading their masters' expressions. Just thinking about such a life made Yang Jing's chest feel stifled.

He suddenly withdrew his fist, slamming its edge into a wooden post with a dull bang.

He took a deep breath and assumed his stance once more, his fist wind carrying the resolute determination of smashing the cauldrons and sinking the boats.

He absolutely refused to walk such a path!

Fortunately, he was different from the others.

At that moment, a line of text that only Yang Jing could see appeared before his eyes—

[Mountain Collapse Fist Beginner (199/200)]