Hidden Strength

Guang'an Ward.

In the courtyard of the Righteousness Gang's headquarters, weapons lay scattered across the blue-brick paving. Several bare-chested men practiced their punches, their shouts shaking the window paper.

When the triangular-eyed lookout lifted the door curtain and entered, he found Chief Zhao Meng and Deputy Chief Qian Bao seated in the main room, with wine and meat before them.

Zhao Meng was burly, with a vicious blade scar on his left arm, and an accomplished fighter at bright strength peak. Qian Bao was lean as a monkey, with a sinister gaze. He, too, had been stuck at bright strength peak for years, and his body-hardening skills were solid.

"Chief, Deputy Chief!" The triangular-eyed man bowed and recounted his sighting of Yang Jing at the tea stall. "That brat stood at the entrance to Guang'an Ward for quite a while. There was something off about his eyes. He looked like he was sizing up our men."

"Yang Jing?" Zhao Meng set down his wine bowl, his scarred face darkening. "The bright strength fighter who had a grudge against the Great Fortune Gang?"

Qian Bao sneered. "Looks like we guessed right. There's a good chance he was the one who killed Xu Tai. Why else would he take a detour through Guang'an Ward on his way to the Sun Clan Martial Arts School? He must have a guilty conscience and want to sound us out."

The gang's investigation had led them to Yang Jing some days earlier. They knew he not only bore a grudge against the Great Fortune Gang but was also a skilled bright strength fighter, perfectly capable of killing the badly wounded Xu Tai.

The men they had sent to Tongyi Ward the previous night had returned without uncovering anything solid. Hearing that Yang Jing had now appeared in Guang'an Ward of his own accord only deepened their suspicions.

Zhao Meng slammed his palm onto the table, making the wine bowls jump. "Search! Send men to sneak into his little courtyard and search it thoroughly! Make sure you find that stash of valuables from the Great Fortune Gang!"

As far as Zhao Meng knew, Xu Tai had once come into a windfall, so the Great Fortune Gang's accumulated wealth was no small sum-at least several hundred taels of silver.

"If we can't find it..." Qian Bao licked his lips, a vicious glint flashing in his eyes. "Then he can't blame us for playing rough. He's just a greenhorn. Even if he's reached bright strength, can he really turn the heavens upside down?"

Zhao Meng grinned, revealing yellow teeth. "Aren't we both at bright strength peak? Even if he has a few tricks, I could capture him alone. If we join forces, he won't even have room to struggle!"

The two exchanged a glance, each seeing certainty in the other's eyes.

As far as they were concerned, a young bright strength fighter could never be a match for two seasoned veterans at bright strength peak.

"Go. Pick two nimble men and have them scout Tongyi Ward this afternoon." Zhao Meng waved a hand. "If they can't find the goods, get ready to make our move!"

The triangular-eyed man left with his orders. The aroma of wine and meat still filled the room as Zhao Meng and Qian Bao raised their bowls and clinked them together, as though Yang Jing were already firmly in their grasp and victory assured.

When Yang Jing reached the Martial Arts Hall, a few early-arriving disciples were warming up and stretching in the Front Courtyard.

He knew Sun Yong was usually still resting in the Inner Courtyard at this hour, so he did not disturb him. Instead, he went over to the stone locks and began warming up to temper qi and blood.

Once he had finished warming up, he went to a wooden post and began practicing the Mountain Collapse Fist.

Yet his state of mind was entirely different as he practiced this time.

Hidden strength circulated through his meridians, lending every punch a deep, restrained force. As the Fist Wind swept past, no obvious marks appeared on the wooden post's surface, but faint tremors sounded within.

He became increasingly absorbed, weaving the insights from his breakthrough into his movements. New variations gradually emerged from the familiar forms.

When the sun had climbed twenty feet above the horizon, sounds came from the Inner Courtyard.

Sun Yong emerged, followed by Xu Hong, Lin Yue, and the others. All were dressed in fitted martial attire, clearly preparing to go out.

Yang Jing stopped punching and was just about to approach him.

But Sun Yong led the group briskly out of the Martial Arts Hall, presumably heading off to spar with the other martial arts schools.

Watching their retreating backs, Yang Jing could only swallow the words on the tip of his tongue.

He smiled and turned back to his practice. They would return eventually; there was no need to rush.

That afternoon, in the Martial Arts Hall's Front Courtyard.

Yang Jing's Mountain Collapse Fist now flowed like drifting clouds and running water.

With his hidden strength held inward, the Fist Wind seemed gentle, yet each blow against the wooden post silently severed the wood fibers inside. This was precisely the subtle power of hidden strength's "penetration" principle.

Although Yang Jing did not possess the later training methods for the Mountain Collapse Fist, he often sparred with Liu Maolin and had some understanding of hidden strength.

Just then, footsteps sounded outside the main entrance. Yang Jing glanced over from the corner of his eye and saw his master, Sun Yong, returning with the disciples who had gone out to spar.

Sun Yong's expression was calm, his lips slightly upturned. He was clearly in a good mood. Xu Hong, Qi Yun, Lin Yue, and the others followed him straight into the Inner Courtyard, apparently intending to hold a brief meeting to review their results first.

Yang Jing withdrew his fists but did not immediately follow them.

There were too many people in the Inner Courtyard just then, and he did not want to join the bustle. He stayed where he was, regulating his breathing and waiting for an opportunity.

Before long, Xu Hong, Qi Yun, Zhao Wenzheng, and Lin Yue came out of the Inner Courtyard.

The disciples in the Front Courtyard immediately crowded around them, clamoring to ask how the matches had gone.

"Senior Brother, how did today's matches go?"

"Did Senior Brother Lin win again?"

Smiling, Qi Yun called out, "Our Martial Arts Hall swept the field today! Junior Brother Lin Yue, especially, defeated three hidden strength experts in succession. He beat the people from the Weiyuan Martial Arts School and Iron Fist Hall until they had to admit defeat!"

"Whoa! Three hidden strength experts in a row? Good heavens, that's hidden strength we're talking about! Senior Brother Lin is incredible!"

"He really is our Martial Arts Hall's greatest genius!"

Praise rose from every side. Lin Yue stood amid the crowd with a faintly reserved expression, his gaze sweeping over everyone with a measure of satisfaction.

Yang Jing paid it no heed. Seeing that almost everyone had left the Inner Courtyard, he brushed the dust from his clothes and headed toward its moon gate.

Only as he drew near the Inner Courtyard did a disciple notice him.

"What's Senior Brother Yang going into the Inner Courtyard for?"

"Did Master summon him?"

Their murmurs were full of surprise. Even Xu Hong froze for a moment.

Lin Yue and Qi Yun frowned slightly.

Ordinary registered disciples were generally not permitted to enter the Inner Courtyard. Bright strength disciples had that privilege, but they rarely went inside and would normally only do so when summoned by their master.

Only valued core disciples at hidden strength entered the Inner Courtyard frequently.

Still, neither Zhao Wenzheng nor Lin Yue and the others considered that Yang Jing might have broken through to hidden strength. They merely assumed he had something to discuss with their master.

Ignoring the gazes around him, Yang Jing walked steadily through the moon gate and disappeared into the shade of the courtyard's trees. It was as though an invisible barrier had shut out the clamor of the Front Courtyard.

The Inner Courtyard was quiet and secluded. Several old osmanthus trees spread their canopies across the sky, casting dappled light and shadow below.

Yang Jing had taken only a few steps when he saw Sun Ningxiang crossing the covered walkway with a bowl of medicine, her plain dress swaying gently in the trees' shadows.

"Junior Brother Yang?" Sun Ningxiang stopped, looking somewhat surprised. "Why have you come in? Is something the matter?"

"Senior Sister, I'd like to see Master. I have something important to report," Yang Jing said, cupping his hands.

Sun Ningxiang considered briefly, then nodded. "Wait a moment. I'll go ask."

With that, she turned and entered the Main Hall.

A moment later, she lifted the curtain and came back out. "Junior Brother Yang, Father says you may go in."

Yang Jing thanked her and stepped inside.

Sun Yong sat in a Grand Preceptor's Chair, rubbing a string of red sandalwood prayer beads between his fingers. At Yang Jing's entrance, he raised his eyelids. "What do you need?"

Yang Jing bowed, his voice steady and clear. "Master, I attempted a breakthrough last night and was fortunate enough to reach hidden strength."

"Hm? What did you say?" Sun Yong's hand abruptly stopped, and the prayer beads knocked together with a clack.

He looked up at Yang Jing, doubt and astonishment in his eyes. For a moment, he wondered whether he had misheard. "Say that again?"

"I was fortunate enough to break through to hidden strength last night," Yang Jing repeated, neither servile nor arrogant.

This time, Sun Yong heard him clearly. He sprang to his feet, the chair legs scraping harshly across the floor.

He strode up to Yang Jing, his gaze blazing as he examined him from head to toe. Then he pointed to a sandbag at one side of the room and said gravely, "Show me a Mountain Collapse Fist strike. Use hidden strength."

Yang Jing took his stance as instructed, focused his mind, gathered his qi, and slowly executed Split Stone.

The Fist Wind was not fierce at first, but midway through the punch, a restrained force quietly emerged from his body. With a dull rush through the air, it struck the sandbag a short distance away.

There was no earthshaking crash. The sandbag's surface barely moved, yet with a muffled puff, the cotton stuffing inside collapsed inward, leaving a fist imprint roughly an inch deep.

This was precisely the sign of hidden strength projecting out of the body and striking directly within, far beyond the brute force of bright strength.

"It really is hidden strength!" Sun Yong's pupils contracted, and he drew a sharp breath. He stared straight at Yang Jing, studying him this closely for the first time.

Towering waves surged through his heart.

He knew Yang Jing's root bone was merely low-grade, and mediocre even among those with low-grade root bone.

Sun Yong's impression of Yang Jing had always been that he was steady-natured and willing to work hard. Reaching bright strength had already been no easy feat for him, but Sun Yong had never imagined he could break through to hidden strength.

The bottleneck at bright strength peak was not something hard training alone could overcome.

With poor root bone, crossing that bottleneck was as difficult as ascending to heaven. Forcing a breakthrough would only injure the practitioner again and again. After enough attempts, their vitality would be gravely depleted and their very foundation ruined; they might even lose their life.

How many disciples with mid-grade root bone had the Martial Arts Hall produced? As far as Sun Yong knew, nearly all had spent years, even over a decade, stuck at bright strength peak without so much as glimpsing the threshold of hidden strength. Yet Yang Jing... had succeeded without a sound?

"How... how many attempts did it take you?" Sun Yong drew a deep breath and looked at Yang Jing. He had seen too many disciples trapped at that bottleneck and knew all too well how difficult the breakthrough was.

"Master, it was my first attempt."

"Your first?!" Sun Yong's face twitched slightly, his heart filled with shock and conflicting emotions.

In the entire Martial Arts Hall, only Lin Yue had succeeded on his first attempt. Which of the other hidden strength disciples had not stumbled along the way, some needing two or three attempts merely to touch its threshold? Yet Yang Jing had succeeded in one attempt with low-grade root bone?

Once the shock passed, an irrepressible joy welled up in his heart.

He clapped Yang Jing on the shoulder so hard that even Yang Jing swayed slightly. "Good! Well done, lad! I truly misjudged you!"

Gaining another hidden strength disciple was already cause for celebration. Moreover, Sun Yong now suspected that although Yang Jing's root bone was poor, something else might make up for it-his comprehension, for instance.

Although root bone was the most important factor, other qualities could also influence a person's martial aptitude, such as comprehension.

Someone with keen comprehension still possessed a measure of potential, even with poor root bone.

Sun Yong now suspected that while Yang Jing's root bone was poor, his comprehension and other qualities might be rather good.

When Yang Jing had previously reached bright strength, he had considered it a lucky breakthrough.

But now that Yang Jing had reached hidden strength as well, Sun Yong could no longer attribute it to luck.

People with heaven-defying luck did exist, but such fortune could not fall upon the same person twice in succession.

This lad looks ordinary, but he has hidden potential.

Even the wrinkles on Sun Yong's face relaxed, and he made no effort to conceal the appreciation in his eyes. This was no stroke of luck-Yang Jing was clearly a piece of uncut jade he had nearly buried!

Although Yang Jing's potential still could not compare to Lin Yue's, gaining a hidden strength disciple with some promise put Sun Yong in an exceptionally good mood.

He paced a few steps, then smiled. "Since you've broken through to hidden strength, I'll teach you the remaining sections of the Mountain Collapse Fist right now!"

Sun Yong walked to the bookshelf and took an old thread-bound volume from its top shelf. The title "Mountain Collapse Fist" was written on the cover in archaic characters.

He laid the manual on the table, tapping the yellowed pages lightly with his fingertips. His voice was no longer as casual as before, carrying a measure of solemnity. "Bright strength emphasizes 'hardness,' while hidden strength emphasizes 'restraint' and 'penetration.' The later methods of the Mountain Collapse Fist focus on concealing internal energy within the bones and releasing it through the finest movements. What appears to be a single punch actually divides its force along three paths: one strikes the surface, one penetrates within, and the third..."

He suddenly raised his hand and threw a punch through the air toward the paperweight at the corner of the table.

There was no gust of force, yet a fine crack spread from within the bluestone paperweight.

"This is 'Entwining.' It makes internal energy wind through the enemy's body, with follow-through that continues without end."

Yang Jing held his breath and concentrated, his eyes fixed on the diagrams and annotations in the manual, afraid of missing a single word.

Sun Yong explained in meticulous detail, from the methods of circulating qi to the subtle changes in each form. He even personally demonstrated several times how the spine should twist like a great dragon when exerting force.

"Look at this move, 'River Severing.' At bright strength, you sweep your fist sideways like a massive axe cleaving water. At hidden strength, you must turn your wrist inward half an inch, allowing the energy to travel along your forearm. Then, at the instant of contact, snap your wrist over. The force should strike like a venomous snake bursting from its lair..."

As he spoke, Sun Yong took Yang Jing's arm and corrected the angle at which he exerted force. The pressure of his fingertips was just right, allowing Yang Jing to feel the force's path without causing him pain.

Yang Jing had never experienced such close, attentive instruction.

In the past, Sun Yong had usually stood to one side and offered a few key pointers. He had very rarely taught Yang Jing hand over hand like this.

Now, Sun Yong's voice carried gentle encouragement. "Your root bone may be low-grade, but your comprehension is excellent. You also train diligently and have built a deep, solid foundation. Your control of internal energy, in particular, is much steadier than that of most disciples who have just reached hidden strength. That punch you threw earlier already showed some mastery of the 'penetration' principle. Given time, you will surely master it fully."

He gently patted Yang Jing's shoulder and smiled. "My disciple, if there's anything you don't understand from now on, come to the Inner Courtyard and ask me whenever you like. Don't let the rules hold you back."

"Thank you, Master!"

Warmth filled Yang Jing's heart. He could clearly feel the change in Sun Yong's attitude-the genuine care and expectations of a teacher toward his student.

He focused even more intently, engraving every word Sun Yong spoke in his heart. The writing in the manual seemed to come alive, gradually resonating with the hidden strength circulating within his body.