Hard to believe

By the time he returned to the martial arts hall, the sun had passed its zenith.

Yang Jing took off his shirt and began to temper qi and blood.

As he tempered qi and blood, the system panel appeared before his eyes-

[Mountain Collapse Fist: Minor achievement (1/500)]

With his breakthrough into the bright strength realm, Mountain Collapse Fist had also advanced from initiation to minor achievement.

Yang Jing first practiced a set of basic punches in the courtyard, a thin sheen of sweat forming on his forehead.

Then he walked over to the stone lock, drew a deep breath, bent down, and steadily lifted the fifty-jin weight.

The bear meat he had eaten at noon was truly nourishing. A warm current lingered around his dantian, making lifting the stone lock considerably easier than usual and allowing his blood and qi to circulate with exceptional ease.

Next, Yang Jing switched to a stone barbell, resting it across his shoulders as he performed squats. Each time he rose, he could almost feel the bear meat's energy spreading through his muscles and bones. A gentle force dissolved the aching strain, leaving his whole body suffused with a soothing warmth.

With that, his warm-up was complete, and Yang Jing began practicing Mountain Collapse Fist.

"Sink your breath. Don't let it float in your chest."

A steady, resonant voice rang out. At some point, Sun Yong had emerged from the Inner Courtyard and come up behind Yang Jing. Watching his movements, he said, "At minor achievement, Mountain Collapse Fist emphasizes 'strength springs from the spine, the fist follows the breath.' When you punched just now, you didn't twist your waist and hips far enough, so your force scattered."

"Greetings, Master." Yang Jing hurriedly bowed.

He was now a formal disciple, and according to the rules, he was supposed to address Sun Yong as "Master."

Sun Yong nodded. Dressed entirely in black, he carried a weighty, composed presence. With his hands clasped behind his back, he gave another slight nod and said, "Now that you've entered bright strength, you must formally begin practicing the second stage of Mountain Collapse Fist-minor achievement."

Yang Jing listened attentively.

Sun Yong continued, "This stage emphasizes 'force through the flesh.' You must incorporate bright strength into your moves, so your punches have an edge and leave a mark on whatever they strike."

Listening to Sun Yong's explanation, Yang Jing's mind raced as he considered every detail.

Sun Yong stepped forward, took his wrist, and guided him back into the proper stance. "Watch carefully. When you punch, first sink your shoulders and drop your elbows. Draw your breath into your dantian, then let your internal energy surge up your spine and explode when it reaches your shoulder-yes, just like that!"

He demonstrated personally, breaking down every movement clearly.

From the key points of exerting force to the pathways through which blood and qi circulated, he explained everything in meticulous detail.

Yang Jing listened with complete concentration, committing every key point to memory.

The other disciples nearby who had yet to enter strength watched enviously. This was the difference between formal disciples and registered disciples.

Once someone became a formal disciple, they truly entered a master-disciple relationship.

Sun Yong's instruction was far more attentive and detailed than when he taught registered disciples.

Yang Jing followed his instructions and felt as though the bear meat's energy inside him had been ignited. As he moved through the forms, every punch tore through the air with a dull thud.

In the past, his muscles and bones would always feel tight by this point, but today his movements flowed with exceptional ease. As his Fist Wind swept through the air, it even carried a faint suggestion of "Mountain-Crushing."

The more he practiced, the more absorbed he became. The vigorous exercise rapidly broke down the nutrients from the bear meat, turning them into energy that flowed into his body, as though every inch of muscle were cheering.

Watching Yang Jing practice with such focus, even Sun Yong gave a slight nod, a trace of approval flashing in his eyes.

After completing a set, Yang Jing's breathing was a little uneven, but he felt no fatigue. Instead, his entire body felt wonderfully at ease.

Sun Yong stepped forward and pressed and pinched his shoulders, back, waist, and abdomen. The muscles and bones beneath his fingertips were indeed unremarkable. His root bone could only be considered low-grade.

He withdrew his hand and sighed inwardly.

It seems this lad really did break through to bright strength mostly through luck. With root bone like this, he has almost no hope of advancing to hidden strength.

"Mm, your stance is a little steadier," Sun Yong said, his tone growing somewhat cooler. "But root bone is ultimately your foundation. Yours is poor, so you must practice even harder from now on. Don't slack off."

His words carried a little less regard than before.

Yang Jing replied with a smile, "I'll remember that. Thank you for your guidance, Master!"

Sun Yong nodded and offered a few words of encouragement before turning toward Lin Yue farther away to begin instructing the martial arts hall's prodigy.

In his eyes, someone with high-grade root bone like Lin Yue was still the one who could truly shoulder the future of the Sun Clan Martial Arts School.

After noticing that Lin Yue seemed interested in his daughter, Sun Ningxiang, he had even considered bringing them together. If Lin Yue became his son-in-law, then even after Sun Yong passed away, he would not have to worry about either the martial arts hall or his daughter with Lin Yue there.

Dusk settled heavily.

In a tavern in the south of town, Lu Yang had just lifted the curtain and entered when he spotted Zhou Lin and Zhang Kehan sitting in a corner. Their expressions were darker than each other's, and they had barely touched the food and wine on the table.

"What's going on here?" Lu Yang pulled up a chair, sat down, and poured himself a cup of wine. "I just got back from collecting goods in the Prefectural City. I haven't even gone home yet-I came straight here to see you two, and these are the faces you greet me with?"

Last month, his second breakthrough attempt had failed and damaged his vital energy, extinguishing all hope of reaching bright strength. Left with no choice, he had slunk away from the Sun Clan Martial Arts School and joined his elders in the fur trade.

Zhou Lin did not answer his question. She glared fiercely at the braised beef on the table and said sullenly, "That brat Yang Jing made it."

"Made what?" Lu Yang's hand paused with his wine cup raised, not quite catching her meaning.

"He broke through! Bright strength!" Zhang Kehan gritted his teeth, his voice thick with an indescribable frustration. "This morning, right there in the courtyard. The school master said it himself. I asked Senior Sister Qi Yun too. That brat really has entered strength!"

Lu Yang burst out laughing and set his cup on the table. "Are you two pulling my leg? Yang Jing? With his root bone? He's much worse than all three of us, and you're telling me he reached bright strength? Come off it. That's a pretty good joke, though. Heh-"

As he spoke, he caught sight of Zhou Lin's and Zhang Kehan's faces from the corner of his eye.

Neither showed the slightest trace of a smile. The shock and resentment in their eyes could not be faked.

The smile on Lu Yang's face slowly froze. His heart lurched, as though something had struck it.

"You're... serious?" Even his voice trembled.

Zhou Lin nodded, picked up her cup, and gulped down a mouthful. Wine trickled from the corner of her mouth. "Absolutely. We were standing right there watching. He punched a dent into a wooden post, and the school master himself said he had entered bright strength."

A punch that could dent a wooden post would probably knock someone down in a single blow. If it landed on certain vital spots, it could even kill an ordinary person instantly.

"Impossible," Lu Yang muttered. His brows knotted, and his face instantly turned livid. He felt worse than if he had swallowed a fly.

He clearly remembered that when Yang Jing used to follow him around, Yang Jing could not even memorize the most basic punching sequences. Senior Sister Qi Yun had also rated his root bone as "the lowest of the low."

His own root bone was far better than Yang Jing's. If even he had failed, how had that brat succeeded?

An indescribable feeling clogged his chest-jealousy, resentment, and a touch of inexplicable panic.

He remembered how wretched he had been when he left the martial arts hall, remembered his parents' disappointed sighs, then thought of how Yang Jing was now the school master's formal disciple, able to walk through Yuhe County openly bearing that title. The contrast pricked him like needles, making it impossible to sit still.

"How could he possibly..." Lu Yang repeated, his voice filled with disbelief. His fingers clenched tightly around his wine cup, his knuckles turning white.

The candlelight flickered in the little tavern, illuminating their three silent, sour faces.