Lao Qian's "disappearance" did not change anything.
Little girl had already received her grandpa's instructions and would temporarily listen to Lu PingAn. Well, going alone to certain rooms did not count. Before coming here, grandpa had given little girl a thorough lesson.
Lu PingAn still had his own plans. In fact, he had already done quite well.
Through actual combat, his techniques were constantly being honed and matured.
"So that's how it is. My movements really can't be too straightforward. Uh, maybe I need a bigger cloak."
Actual combat might not be the best teacher, but it was usually the best examiner.
Unnecessary movements would be punished by iron fists.
Stupid choices would be stamped onto one's face with violence.
It was not as if Lu PingAn had not made mistakes. On the contrary, he had lost count of how many he had made. Many tactical maneuvers and flashy techniques that his past self had considered flawless had been smashed into his face by the veterans' fists.
"Too slow, too flashy, unfocused. From head to toe, there isn't a single thing about you that's decent!"
And so, Lu PingAn made mistake after mistake, mocking himself while being harshly taught a lesson.
Yet despite all his mistakes, he did not lose.
One opponent after another, the ones who had been right, fell helplessly.
"This is ridiculous."
"Why is he so tough?"
"How can he heal instantly?"
"Does he have nearly infinite stamina?"
While constantly making mistakes, Lu PingAn displayed the Life-type's most frustrating advantages—regeneration that allowed for unlimited mistakes and irresistible physical power.
Lu PingAn calmly corrected his movements step by step, imitating and even copying the impressions left by his opponents' martial arts, gradually forming his own combat system.
He was beginning to understand what Heart Like Still Water meant,