Mountain Collapse Fist

Lu Yang, Zhou Lin, and Zhang Kehan left.

As they departed, they seemed to feel terribly sorry for Yang Jing, as though missing the chance to curry favor with Senior Sister Qi tonight was a great loss for him.

Yang Jing watched the three leave the courtyard with a smile, then shook his head slightly.

Wherever there were people, there was society.

It was the same in this world as in his previous life. Back then, hadn't some people spent all day hovering around their generous big brothers? In this life, others hovered around their generous big sisters. All they wanted was a few benefits and a little protection.

What these people failed to understand, however, was that their own strength was the foundation of everything.

Without strength of your own, even if you fawned over someone every day, they might never spare you a second glance.

The body's original owner was a vivid example. He had given so much, yet that Senior Sister Qi could hardly be bothered to look at him.

Damn it, you ran up the debt, but I'm the one stuck paying it, Yang Jing cursed inwardly.

Next, Yang Jing began practicing the Mountain Collapse Fist.

Tempering his blood and qi earlier had only been a warm-up to get him into the right state for martial practice more quickly. The Mountain Collapse Fist was the core.

Sun Yong, the master of the Sun Clan Martial Arts School, had established himself through the Mountain Collapse Fist and enjoyed considerable renown throughout Yuhe County.

Before beginning his fist practice, Yang Jing willed it, and a line of small text appeared before his eyes, visible only to him.

[Mountain Collapse Fist Initiation (31/200)]

This was his cultivation progress in the Mountain Collapse Fist.

When Yang Jing first transmigrated, the body's original owner had already been enrolled in the Sun Clan Martial Arts School for over two months, yet his progress in the Mountain Collapse Fist was only 22/200. Only after Yang Jing nursed his body back to health and gradually resumed practicing had he raised it to its current level.

The original owner's root bone aptitude had been poor, but he had also been genuinely lazy.

Yang Jing walked up to a hanging sandbag, gently closed his eyes, then slowly opened them. With that closing and opening of his eyes, he brought himself into peak condition.

He planted his feet shoulder-width apart, bent his knees slightly, and settled into a firm horse stance. His chest swelled as he drew a deep breath, then he abruptly sank his abdomen and exhaled. His right fist blasted forward like a cannonball leaving its barrel, his forearm muscles taut and every vein along his arm bulging, as though he meant to concentrate all his strength into a single point on his fist.

As the punch landed, Yang Jing bent forward with its momentum, his left fist following close behind to smash into the sandbag.

Thud! A muffled impact rang out.

The sandbag flew backward under the blow.

Thud, thud, thud!

Yang Jing punched again and again, each swing of his arm carrying enough force to cut through the air. Sweat-soaked strands of hair clung to his forehead.

From noon until nightfall.

Apart from brief rests, Yang Jing kept tempering his blood and qi and practicing the Mountain Collapse Fist. Even when he felt exhausted to his limit, he gritted his teeth and held on.

Seeing the formerly rather lazy Yang Jing suddenly work so hard surprised many of the disciples, who found it quite a novelty.

"What's gotten into him?"

"Has Junior Brother Yang been injected with chicken blood or something?"

"Who knows? He probably won't keep it up for long. He might give out tomorrow."

A few disciples exchanged quiet comments.

Over the following days, however, Yang Jing's performance far exceeded many people's expectations.

From morning until night, Yang Jing spent every moment tempering his blood and qi and practicing the Mountain Collapse Fist, apart from meals and brief rests.

Tempering his blood and qi served as a warm-up for practicing the Mountain Collapse Fist. It also allowed him to achieve twice the results with half the effort when practicing with his blood and qi stirred into activity, speeding up his cultivation somewhat.

One day, two days, three days.

Before he knew it, half a month had passed.

The small ripples Yang Jing had stirred up in the Martial Arts Hall gradually subsided with time.

The other disciples went from surprise at Yang Jing's frantic efforts to acceptance, growing accustomed to his change.

During this time, Senior Brother Lu and his two companions invited Yang Jing along several more times, but he politely declined each time.

After repeated refusals, Senior Brother Lu and the others finally sensed that Yang Jing was deliberately distancing himself.

From then on, Senior Brother Lu and the others no longer sought Yang Jing out, and their gazes grew much colder when they looked at him.

Many disciples, including Senior Brother Lu, were quite disdainful of this change in Yang Jing.

If hard work was useful, if hard work alone could develop inner force, they would have long since thrown themselves into martial training with everything they had. Why would they waste their energy currying favor with disciples who possessed inner force?

In the eyes of Senior Brother Lu and the others, Yang Jing was still too young. Once he discovered that no amount of effort could break through his bottleneck and develop inner force, he would understand that all his hard work was futile. By then, however, their circle would no longer accept him.

Early one morning.

In the front courtyard of the Sun Clan Martial Arts School in Chengping Ward.

Yang Jing was practicing the Mountain Collapse Fist in an open space.

After half a month of dedicated training, the contours of Yang Jing's muscles were sharply defined. The veins in his forearms stood taut with every punch, brimming with explosive power, while the muscles around his waist and abdomen were firm as iron plates, without the slightest trace of flab.

At a thought from Yang Jing, the System Panel appeared before his eyes-

[Mountain Collapse Fist Initiation (76/200)]

Through half a month of hard work, Yang Jing had raised his progress in the Mountain Collapse Fist by a substantial amount, more than doubling it.

At this rate, in a little over another month, I should be able to bring the Mountain Collapse Fist to minor achievement and enter the bright strength level, Yang Jing thought to himself.

Martial cultivation had three major realms: bright strength, hidden strength, and transforming strength.

Whether someone could develop inner force was the dividing line between an ordinary person and a true martial artist.

Without developing inner force, no matter how hard someone trained, they would merely become a little stronger physically, with little difference between them and an ordinary person.

But once they developed inner force, they would truly cross the threshold of the martial path and could rightfully be called an expert.

If Yang Jing could develop inner force and enter the bright strength realm, not only would a mere Feng Lei be unable to threaten him, even the powerful Ning Family of Wazi Township backing Feng Lei would no longer dare to pressure him lightly.

"Stop for a moment. Master is coming out. Everyone, line up properly."

Just then, a voice rang out in the courtyard.

The twenty-odd people tempering their blood and qi and practicing their fists hurriedly stopped and walked toward the open space in the middle of the courtyard.

Yang Jing stopped his fist practice and went over with the others, taking his place at the back.

Twenty-six or twenty-seven people formed a somewhat uneven square formation. At the front stood several formal disciples of the school master, Sun Yong: Senior Brother Xu Hong, Second Senior Sister Qi Yun, Third Senior Brother Zhao Wenzheng, Fourth Senior Brother Liu Maolin, and the others.

Not long after everyone had taken their places.

An old man in a black robe emerged from the inner courtyard, his hands clasped behind his back.

"Greetings, Master."

"Greetings, School Master."

When the black-robed old man approached, the disciples bowed in greeting.

According to the rules of the Sun Clan Martial Arts Hall, only those who broke through to bright strength could become Sun Yong's formal disciples. Only formal disciples could address him as Master and remain at the Martial Arts Hall indefinitely.

Those disciples who failed to develop inner force within six months could only leave on their own. They were forbidden to swagger about outside in the name of Sun Yong's disciples and could, at most, say they had once studied martial arts at the Sun Clan Martial Arts School.

The black-robed old man was none other than the founder of the Sun Clan Martial Arts School-its master, Sun Yong.

Although he was already past sixty, he was full of vigor, his expression solemn and his back ramrod straight. Apart from some gray in his hair and beard, he showed little sign of age. Merely standing there, he exuded a fierce, formidable presence that came rushing straight at them.