Martial Path Perception

Zhou Leng walked to the living room sofa, sat down, and looked toward the electronic calendar with its faded edges.

July 6, Friday.

June 7 was the academic portion of the college entrance examination. June 22 was the physical fitness test. Seven days later, on July 13, came the final third test of the college entrance examination: the Martial Examination.

Zhou Leng took out his phone and glanced at the spiderweb crack in the lower-right corner of the screen.

It was covered by the screen protector, so it did not matter much.

He entered the class parents' group chat and checked the messages from teachers of every subject, along with all sorts of materials on the Martial Examination.

As he read, night fell.

Zhou Leng rose and was about to head out for his evening training when he remembered Uncle Li's words.

These nights might not be peaceful.

Zhou Leng looked at the green wristband on his left wrist.

He hesitated for a long while. Training at home was less effective, but if he encountered danger again...

Zhou Leng laid out his exercise mat, warmed up a little, and performed a set of Wave-Stacking Palm...

After finishing his external martial arts training, Zhou Leng rested briefly. He took out a basin of beans—a mixture of mung beans, red beans, and soybeans—spread a large bedsheet across the living room floor, and hung a sheet of white paper covered in dots on the wall.

Zhou Leng repeatedly took beans from the basin, controlled his fingers with true qi, flicked the beans out, and struck the dots on the white paper, training his control over true qi.

After training, he stretched, then washed up and went to sleep.

Dawn was barely breaking.

Zhou Leng walked into the kitchen.

Zhou Leng took out a packet of basic Morning-Training Powder, tore it open, poured it into a shaker bottle, and added cooled boiled water.

The shaker bottle's surface was covered in scratches.

He tightened the lid and shook it hard for twenty seconds. Then he flipped up the cap over the drinking spout, but it did not budge in the slightest.

Zhou Leng lifted the shaker bottle and examined it. It was broken. He unscrewed the entire lid, tilted the bottle opening to his mouth, and drank it mouthful by mouthful.

After finishing the Morning-Training Powder, Zhou Leng picked up his phone and keys, then pushed open the door and left.

A faint scent of meat and medicinal herbs drifted through the hallway.

After leaving the residential complex, Zhou Leng warmed up on the jogging track.

Thin overcast clouds scattered across the sky.

As he neared Dragon Roam River Park, the number of people steadily increased.

With light leaps, children jumped onto the aerial monkey bars two meters above the ground, then ran laughing along the bars.

The teenagers practiced their punches with meticulous precision, their gazes focused.

The young adults tempered their bodies using dumbbells, barbells, stone locks, and other equipment marked with weights such as "100 kilograms," "500 kilograms," and "1,000 kilograms."

The middle-aged meditated in secluded places with earplugs on, while some meditated as they fished.

The elderly gathered together, either exchanging insights into the great Dao of martial arts or discussing major events in the Ten Realms.

From the side of Dragon Roam River Park's plaza came a majestic voice. Zhou Leng looked over.

Light shot forth from a demonic projection device, weaving an image of a vast land in the sky.

Between a white river and green farmland stood the ruins of an enormous city. Thick smoke curled upward, and the land was blackened.

Countless Demonic Beasts ran and leaped through the city ruins.

In the technological age several decades ago, for unknown reasons, Blue Star overlapped and connected with nine other worlds.

The War of the Ten Worlds erupted.

An aged voice rang out from the projection.

"...Behind us, the children's desks are burning..."

The original projection faded away and transformed into the figure of Martial Ancestor Yu Zhimin. Dressed in a Zhongshan suit, his hair entirely gray, he stood upon a rally platform.

"...We must ensure that the desks before our children remain peaceful and still."

After Yu Zhimin spoke those final words, the projection slowly changed.

Martial Ancestor Yu Zhimin did not know martial arts.

Nor did he belong to the era of Martial Civilization.

Yet in the final year of the technological age, he led warriors and wielded the mighty force of ten thousand nuclear cores detonating together. As though carrying the Great Sun upon his back, he perished alongside countless enemies and seized first place in that War of the Ten Realms.

However, in the great decisive battle that followed, the Humans were defeated and forced to usher in the era of Martial Civilization.

The overlapping Ten Realms gave birth to countless wondrous treasures and powers.

The spoils from that War of the Ten Realms became the cornerstone of humanity's Martial Civilization.

Thus, through a United Nations vote, humanity honored Yu Zhimin as the Martial Ancestor.

Zhou Leng glanced up toward the east. Overcast clouds obscured the sun. Then he turned and swept his eyes over the couplets on the stone pillars on either side of Ruge Park's plaza.

A crimson background, carved golden characters.

To be granted a marquisate is not my wish; I pray only that the seas' waves be stilled.

Zhou Leng stared at those two lines again and again, a faint light flickering in his eyes.

Zhou Leng took out his phone, activated the timer, deepened his breathing, circulated all his true qi, stepped onto the red sprinting track, and shot forward.

Zhou Leng ran wildly, circulating his qi the entire way.

"Whew..."

Zhou Leng pressed the stop button. As he walked toward the pedestrian path, he looked at his phone screen.

03:10:22.

Three minutes and ten seconds.

This meant that if he fully circulated his true qi and fought at full force, he could sustain it for three minutes and ten seconds.

One second better than yesterday.

He was one step closer to entering the Ru University Affiliated Martial Arts Academy.

Zhou Leng walked onto the jogging track and raised his head to look ahead.

Ruge Mountain stood directly before him. Amid green trees and white stones, Ruge Mountain Park stretched from the foot of the mountain halfway up its slopes.

To the front right stood rows of teaching buildings and several massive martial arts arenas.

That was where Rucheng Martial Arts University Ruge Mountain Campus and the Rucheng Martial Arts University Affiliated Martial Arts Hall were located.

In the woods to the front left lay the inconspicuous Xiaoru Village.

Zhou Leng lived on the outskirts of Ru City, very close to Ruge Mountain. Xiaoru Village was the endpoint of his daily run.

Zhou Leng's father had been born in Xiaoru Village.

When Zhou Leng was young, he often stayed in the ancestral home in Xiaoru Village. He went there less after growing up, but still visited at least twice a month.

Because the mountain behind Xiaoru Village was quiet and well-suited for cultivation.

Zhou Leng looked toward Xiaoru Village in confusion.

A thin white mist spread through the air, blanketing the mountain village as well as the western side of Ruge Mountain.

When he had come yesterday morning, everything had been fine.

Zhou Leng tried hard to recall. There had been thick fog covering the entire city in his memories, and fog swallowing whole mountains, but fog only on Ruge Mountain's western side had never appeared before.

"It should just be a coincidence..."

Zhou Leng lowered his head to look at the green wristband and continued running.

As usual, Zhou Leng did not stop until he reached the foot of Ruge Mountain.

Looking up, he saw all of Xiaoru Village shrouded in mist. Only the large mulberry tree at the village entrance was vaguely visible.

On the concrete road ahead, an energetic old man approached, shouting, "Xiao Leng, have you seen Big Yellow?"

"Big Yellow hasn't gone back to the village again?"

"No one knows where it ran off to the day before yesterday. I didn't think much of it, since it often stays away from the village for several days. But the fog rose yesterday, and I was afraid Big Yellow would get lost, so I've been searching ever since. I asked in the group chat, but nobody has seen it."

"Did you search the mountain?"

"The fog is so thick, it's hard to go up."

"It likes running around. It should be fine. If the fog clears tomorrow, I'll go up the mountain to train and look for it while I'm there."

"If it still hasn't been found tomorrow, I'll let you know. Other than you, there's no one in the village with nimble legs."

"Then I'm heading back. I'll contact you before I go up the mountain tomorrow." Zhou Leng bade the village chief farewell.

"Big Yellow didn't raise you for nothing." The village chief walked away slowly, gratified.

Zhou Leng was already used to the villagers' teasing.

Big Yellow was an ordinary-looking Chinese rural dog that had played with Zhou Leng since they were little.

Big Yellow was also the dog that had saved Zhou Leng's life.

When Zhou Leng was little, he went swimming in the river, suffered a leg cramp, and began drowning. The other village dogs only barked wildly, but Big Yellow took the lead, leaped into the water, bit Zhou Leng's arm, and dragged him to shore.

For a time when Zhou Leng was sick, Big Yellow would occasionally carry fish over and drop them before him, making the adults and children in the village terribly envious.

Back then, someone in the village joked that without Big Yellow, this family would have fallen apart.

Big Yellow was a famous social butterfly throughout the area. Not only cattle, horses, cats, and sheep—even wild animals such as squirrels, wild boars, weasels, magpies, and raccoons often played with Big Yellow.

Big Yellow was very smart. Once, dog thieves saw Big Yellow at the village entrance and got out of their car to catch it.

Big Yellow limped along, pretending to be injured. Controlling its pace, it lured the dog thieves into the village.

Big Yellow suddenly barked loudly. Every cat and dog in the village sprang into action. When the villagers saw what was happening, they came running with hoes and shovels, frightening the dog thieves away. The story became a favorite topic of conversation in the village.

Zhou Leng glanced at the dense fog, turned, and ran back, still thinking about Big Yellow.

Other dogs were one thing. Big Yellow was different.

It had always been different.

No matter what, he had to go up the mountain tomorrow and search. He could train there as well, preparing for the Martial Examination.

Zhou Leng continued running along the road.

With his true qi depleted, sweat streamed down in torrents, soaking his entire body.

When he ran back to Dragon Roam River Park, more than half the overcast clouds had dispersed. Sunlight pierced through scattered cracks in the sky and spread across the city.

Zhou Leng narrowed his eyes and looked east.

On the eastern horizon hung two suns, one large and one small.

The smaller sun was the size of an infant's fist, suspended below and to the left of the larger sun.

After entering the park and completing his external martial arts training in fists and legs, Zhou Leng ran home.

After washing off, he habitually sat down at his desk.

Zhou Leng extended his hand, his fingertips slowly brushing over the polished engraving on the left side of the desktop.

To be granted a marquisate is not my wish; I pray only that the seas' waves be stilled.

Zhou Leng had carved those words stroke by stroke when he was young.

Zhou Leng withdrew his hand, pulled a thick notebook from the small bookshelf, and opened the cover.

On the first page were the same two lines of poetry, written on either side like a couplet.

Between the two lines was a printed photograph.

On Mount Tai, enormous stone bore the carved crimson words: "Five Sacred Mountains Supreme."

Before the boulder, three young men stood shoulder to shoulder, high-spirited and full of vigor.

The three were Wu Duanxiong, Wan Yumin, and Zhao Dongjun.

Everyone in Dragon Nation knew this photograph. It was also called the Three Saints of Mount Tai.

All three were Martial Saints.

Zhou Leng's gaze returned to the first page of the notebook. Above the photograph were the four words: "Martial Dao Diary."

This had been mandatory homework assigned by every teacher from elementary school through middle school and high school, and all students had long formed the habit.

Zhou Leng flipped through the notebook and stopped at yesterday's Martial Dao Diary entry.

July 6.

Overcast.

I. Realm.

Blood Qi Realm.

Qi-Nourishing Stage.

II. Divine abilities.

1. Racial divine ability: Seed of True Qi.

2. National Divine Ability: Everlasting Legacy. Martial Path Perception. United Will Forms a Fortress. Medicinal Supplementation.

III. Martial arts:

1. Internal art: Mystic Tide Art—Minor Accomplishment, First Heaven.

2. Fist art: Mountain-Punching Fist—Mastery, Second Heaven.

3. Palm art: Wave-Stacking Palm—Minor Accomplishment, Ninth Heaven.

4. Leg art: Cloud-Flying Leg—Mastery, Fourth Heaven.

5. Footwork: Eight Trigrams Step—Minor Accomplishment, Eighth Heaven.

6. Movement art: Wandering Cloud Movement—Mastery, Sixth Heaven.

IV. Four Extraordinary Bodies.

Qi: Mortal Qi.

Blood: Mortal Blood.

Body: Mortal Body.

Strength: Mortal Strength.

V. Martial Will.

No perception.

VI. Combat awareness.

No perception.

Zhou Leng looked toward the racial divine ability and National Divine Abilities.

The final spoils of that battle, when ten thousand nuclear warheads detonated at once, was a Golden Light Crystal.

After humanity activated it, it formed a racial divine ability: the Seed of True Qi.

The Seed of True Qi allowed Innate Realm experts to directly plant the power of true qi within every human, letting them rapidly enter the Qi-Nourishing Stage.

Martial Path Perception was a power exclusive to the people of Dragon Nation.

Among Blue Star's many nations, only Dragon Nation possessed the National Divine Ability known as "Martial Path Perception."

This divine ability allowed the people of Dragon Nation to sense the finer details of cultivation more easily than those of other countries when practicing Martial Dao.

The circulation of true qi, changes in the body, breakthroughs through bottlenecks, and more could all be sensed.

Martial Path Perception was the foundation of martial arts diaries.

It was also a National Divine Ability bought with the sacrifice of Martial Saint Wan Yumin.

Zhou Leng clicked his ballpoint pen and wrote today's martial arts diary.

Its contents were exactly the same as yesterday's.

After finishing, Zhou Leng took out his phone to snap a photo, then suddenly stopped.

Ever since elementary school, he had been used to writing his martial arts diary in the morning and photographing it to upload to the parents' group chat. But starting today, that assignment was over.

Zhou Leng put down his phone.

A hollow sense of loss washed over him.

After sitting silently for a while, Zhou Leng rose and walked into the living room, his gaze sweeping over the digital photo frame atop the TV cabinet.

Zhou Leng went to rest on the sofa. Before long, he took out his phone.

"Not tomorrow. I'm going to find Big Yellow today."

Zhou Leng opened the Xiaoru Village group chat and searched through the message history.

There were either strings of fifty-second voice messages packed tightly together, or rows upon rows of thumbs-up emojis.

Zhou Leng could not find which voice message mentioned Big Yellow, so he had no choice but to give up.

Zhou Leng opened his phone's photo album. Aside from study materials such as his daily martial arts notes, it was almost entirely filled with photos and videos of Big Yellow.

He closed the album, looked up the prices of some portable food for martial artists, then silently closed that as well.

Zhou Leng opened the freezer and took out ten meat sausages, placing them into a steamer.

He stir-fried a plate of greens, boiled six duck breasts, and finished breakfast with freshly steamed multigrain rice before beginning to pack his hiking bag.

He packed the steamed sausages, four packs of compressed biscuits, two boxes of chocolate, and six bottles of water.

He checked his windbreaker, flashlight, first-aid medicine, thin insulated blanket, secondhand entrenching shovel, multifunction military knife, and more.

There were also camping supplies at home, including a one-person tent, but remembering Uncle Li's warning, Zhou Leng gave up on camping overnight.

Once everything was ready, Zhou Leng changed into a long-sleeved shirt and long pants, hoisted the hiking backpack half his height onto his back, and stopped at the door.

He looked back once at the digital photo frame, then headed downstairs under his load and briskly made his way toward Xiaoru Village.

When he reached the village, he asked the old village chief and learned that Big Yellow still had not returned. Without another word, Zhou Leng started up the mountain.

As he entered the back mountain, Zhou Leng looked up at the faint mist ahead, unease stirring in his heart.

Xiaoru Village had never seen this kind of localized fog before.

Zhou Leng glanced at the green wristband on his arm.

Ever since the demon attack had nearly cost him his life, Zhou Leng had become increasingly cautious in his actions.

Going into the mountain now was not a good time.

But when he thought of Big Yellow, Zhou Leng's eyes gradually cleared.

"I've climbed mountains in fog before."

Zhou Leng sent Uncle Li a message explaining what had happened, then contacted Martial Dao Committee member Mo Hai to request leave. Taking a deep breath, he started up the mountain.

At National Cloud Pioneer Company, Li Linhan looked at Zhou Leng's text message and smiled in gratification.

If he did not even dare climb a mountain in fog, how would he brave the Sea of Blood?

Amid the mist, green mountains and white stones stood beneath dense forests.

Zhou Leng climbed along a familiar route.

Whenever he reached a place Big Yellow liked, he shouted Big Yellow's name at the top of his lungs.

With true qi within him, Zhou Leng walked as though on level ground.

He searched for an hour without finding anything.

Zhou Leng stopped, his brows knitting slightly.

To guard against mosquitoes, he wore a long-sleeved shirt and long pants despite the height of summer.

Yet not only was there not a trace of sweat on him, he even felt vaguely cold and wanted to put on another layer—the windbreaker.

After walking for a while longer, a group of wild boars suddenly burst out ahead.

Behind one large black boar followed six spotted piglets.

All seven wild boars stared at Zhou Leng.

Zhou Leng remained calm.

At True Qi Minor Accomplishment, he could not bring out its full power. His true qi could only reach close to his skin and could not be projected any farther.

But no matter how hard a boar's head was, it could not withstand the repeated strikes of the Wave-Stacking Palm.

Suddenly, the large boar gave Zhou Leng a soft grunt, and it did not seem hostile.

Zhou Leng's heart stirred. After the Ten Realms overlapped, all kinds of changes had occurred on Earth.

A new kind of power had appeared between heaven and earth, allowing humans to cultivate rapidly.

Among humans, this power was called spiritual energy.

Thanks to the changes on Blue Star and the spiritual energy leaking out from Demon City, stories of animals gaining humanlike intelligence had become increasingly common in recent years.

Ignoring how absurd it seemed, Zhou Leng asked loudly, "Do you know Big Yellow? The one that goes woof woof... Big Yellow. You must have heard us call it that."

The large boar did not move, then gave a grunt.

Zhou Leng was helpless.

Then the large boar suddenly puckered its snout and nudged its nose toward a certain direction.

"You mean Big Yellow went that way?" Zhou Leng pointed in that direction and asked, half believing and half doubting.

The large boar seemed not to hear him. It continued pointing its snout that way, grunted a few more times, then turned and left.

The piglets turned to look at Zhou Leng, gave two soft grunts, then, like kindergarten children, formed a neat line and followed the large boar into the woods.

Zhou Leng looked toward the direction the large boar had indicated, suspicion on his face.

He remembered the direction, took several photos with his phone, then continued toward the places Big Yellow often visited.

By noon, he had gone to many places, yet still saw no sign of Big Yellow.

Zhou Leng took out water, compressed biscuits, meat sausages, and multivitamin tablets from his backpack. He hurriedly ate some, rested briefly, and continued searching.

Not until three in the afternoon, when his throat had gone hoarse from shouting, did he see any sign of Big Yellow.

Thick fog filled the mountain. Zhou Leng knew Ruge Mountain extremely well and remembered distinctive rocks and trees clearly, so he had not gotten lost.

"It's three already. If I don't go down now, it'll be too late."

Zhou Leng had climbed mountains many times and had always followed the adults' teachings, trying his best not to spend the night deep in the mountains.

He had searched every familiar place.

The places that remained were ones Big Yellow rarely went.

Zhou Leng sighed. As he retraced his steps, he racked his brains.

"Today makes three days. Big Yellow rarely stays out for three days straight. It couldn't have been..."

The more Zhou Leng thought about it, the worse he felt, and he hurriedly cut off the bad thought.

Zhou Leng slowly made his way back, unwilling to return to the village for a long time, when his eyes suddenly shifted.

This was where the large boar had appeared.

Zhou Leng looked in the direction the large boar had pointed.

The sun was setting, and the fog was like thick gray cloth. The darkness deep in the forest was so dense it could not be dissolved.

A cold wind swept past, raising goosebumps all over Zhou Leng's body.

Zhou Leng looked up ahead.

He still remembered that warm, sunlit summer afternoon.

Dappled tree shadows fell across the woman as she crouched on the ground, her long hair spilling down.

She gently stroked Big Yellow's head.

"Little Yellow, you have to protect your brother."

"Woof..." Tiny Big Yellow wagged its tail with all its strength, tongue lolling out as it grinned.

After that summer, Zhou Leng never saw her again through all his springs, summers, autumns, and winters.

The following year, Big Yellow saved Zhou Leng, fulfilling the promise of that summer.

Zhou Leng took off the green wristband and stuffed it into his backpack.

Go find Big Yellow.

And that summer.