Embodying Myriad Traits, I Will Ultimately Become Immortal - Section 1

Embodying Myriad Traits, I Will Ultimately Become Immortal

Author: Eat a Peach

Synopsis:

Synopsis:

Yong'an City Publicity Department:

"Another reminder to all residents: a Level 4 Demon Nest has recently appeared outside Yong'an City. The Huayan Martial Arts University Principal, Dragon-Riding Guanyin - Zheng Yulan, is currently leading a team to suppress it.

During this period, the city government urges everyone not to go out at night unless necessary! Life comes first; safety is paramount!"

The emergence of Heavenly Demons had disrupted the world's original course. Technological innovation no longer led the mainstream, while the exploration of martial arts had taken center stage.

Sun-Punch, Eight-Step Cicada Chase... countless ancient martial arts had undergone continuous research and innovation, casting off the old to bring forth the new and evolving into techniques better suited to modern physiques.

Nine Blood Qi, Eight Great Limits—martial artists gathered immense power within themselves. Only the Will of Martial Arts could suppress Heavenly Demons and shatter the darkness!

The Tianshan Martial Gathering, Rivers' Confluence Tournament, World's First Martial Arts Tournament! All existed to determine the strongest martial artist, one who could lead the world in protecting its homeland and civilization.

"Breaking news: Heaven-Tilting Great Sage - Zhao Linyuan from our nation has once again claimed the title at the World's First Martial Arts Tournament! This further solidifies our nation's dominant position in the global development of martial arts."

"Bzzzt..."

Meng Chuan turned off the television and, as usual, began practicing the "National Obligatory Basic Fist Art."

National Obligatory Basic Fist Art: Mastery (99%)—awaiting limit break

Limit-Break Trait: One Proof, Eternal Proof (Super)—awaiting activation

Four in the morning, Peaceful High School.

"Hey! Ha!"

In the school's rear training field in the dead of night, only one person's voice could be heard.

Meng Chuan arrived at school at this hour every day, coming early to practice his fists.

His fists and kicks stirred the wind as he drove out punches from horse stances, struck sideways with stepping strides, hit the waist, and locked the throat. Every movement was imposing as he practiced the "National Obligatory Basic Fist Art."

The "National Obligatory Basic Fist Art" was a foundational boxing art that every Great Chu Nation citizen had to begin learning at the age of four, unless they had congenital deficiencies.

Normally, after practicing it to minor mastery around the third grade at age nine, Great Chu Nation citizens with exceptional talent and fine skeletal aptitude would switch to more advanced martial arts.

At the latest, they would abandon the "National Obligatory Basic Fist Art" when they entered middle school at thirteen, switching to the third-rate techniques provided by their schools.

This was because the art was merely the most basic body-strengthening method. Even at mastery, it possessed little real power.

The Blood Qi stimulation it provided during cultivation was also insufficient, making it difficult for students pursuing the martial path to break through the crowd of competitors.

Yet Meng Chuan was already sixteen and had just entered his first year of high school, but he was still cultivating the "National Obligatory Basic Fist Art."

Across all the high school students in the school, anyone with even the slightest hope of entering a Martial University—

Those practicing Xingyi were training internal martial arts, splitting palms, or Cannon Fist; those practicing Form Imitation were cultivating Tiger's Roar Skill, Swallow Return Fist, or White Ape Hand.

Only Meng Chuan persisted in practicing the basic fist art.

As for every other kind of boxing art, whether Xingyi or Form Imitation, he practiced none of them.

None of his classmates understood what Meng Chuan was thinking. His skeletal aptitude was clearly quite good; even compared with the entire school, he ranked among the upper tier.

Unfortunately, he seemed a little slow-witted and spent all day fooling around.

When the freshmen enrolled, the school's professional skeletal aptitude testing equipment had shown that Meng Chuan possessed lower-middle aptitude.

That was already quite good. In Great Chu, the vast majority of people possessed lower-grade aptitude.

Meng Chuan's lower-middle aptitude was already far superior to that of ordinary people.

If he properly trained in Form Imitation or Xingyi, he might not have had much chance of receiving early special admission.

But if he worked on improving his Blood Qi before the high school martial arts examination, he had a strong chance of breaking through the Third Blood Qi Threshold.

At that point, getting into the local Yong'an Martial Arts University would have been practically certain.

Classmates with inferior aptitude thought there was something wrong with Meng Chuan's head.

He had good talent, yet refused to put it to use and spent every day practicing Child's Fist.

A few whose aptitude surpassed his were even more disdainful of associating with him, openly declaring, "This kid has an intellectual deficiency."

Meng Chuan did not care about such gossip. Others could say whatever they wanted.

He simply focused on practicing his fists. At four in the morning, only one person knew what Yong'an High School looked like.

Though it was called the "National Obligatory Basic Fist Art," ordinary people could not possibly cultivate it to mastery without years of painstaking effort.

Meng Chuan had practiced it since he was four. Rain or shine, he trained on schedule and never slacked off.

In truth, Meng Chuan had already brought this basic fist art to mastery when he was fourteen, in his second year of middle school.

Setting skeletal aptitude aside, purely in terms of his comprehension of fist arts, Meng Chuan's cultivation speed was unmatched throughout the school.

Even the Peaceful High School principal had placed great expectations on him.

He believed that Meng Chuan was "guaranteed Yong'an Martial Arts University, with a strong chance at North Union University!"

"You've already reached mastery. You can start cultivating third-rate martial arts now, can't you?

If you truly don't want to practice them because you think they're too low-end, then second-rate techniques aren't out of the question either. We can apply to the Ministry of Education for you!"

Yet beneath the expectant gazes of the principal and teachers:

At age , Meng Chuan was still practicing the "National Obligatory Basic Fist Art."

At age , Meng Chuan was still practicing the "National Obligatory Basic Fist Art."

The teachers were anxious about this, and the principal was even more anxious.

But Meng Chuan himself was not anxious. Back then, the school repeatedly called his guardian, his uncle, to the school to personally persuade him.

Yet Meng Chuan still went his own way.

In the end, the school had no choice.

That day, the principal stood by the window and smoked three cigarettes in a row.

Finally, he said helplessly:

"You can't stop someone who loves practicing basic fist arts. Let's just leave him be."

At six in the morning, Meng Chuan had already practiced for a full two hours. Many students gradually began arriving at the rear training field.

Students with some talent for martial arts and the intention of choosing the martial track when they divided into specialties in their second year would all arrive at school before seven to exercise and practice their fists.

Several close friends gathered together to compete, study, and exchange pointers.

Only Meng Chuan stood alone in one corner of the field, practicing the "National Obligatory Basic Fist Art" by himself.

"Meng Chuan, still practicing your Child's Fist?"

Chen Jian approached with several close friends. He was the rich second-generation kid in the class, and his father was a senior executive at a local pharmaceutical factory.

Because his own skeletal aptitude was poor, even among the lower grade it was considered relatively bad.

That was why he especially could not stand people like Meng Chuan, who squandered their talent.

Meng Chuan merely glanced at Chen Jian before ignoring him and continuing to practice with focus.

Though Chen Jian had mocked him, he had no desire to pay him any attention.

He was just a childish brat. There was nothing worth arguing over.

Seeing that Meng Chuan ignored him, Chen Jian sneered a few times, then left with his lackeys rather than continue making a fool of himself.

Six-thirty in the evening.

Peaceful High School had dismissed classes at six, and the students had mostly gone home in twos and threes.

"Xiaochuan, still practicing?"

"Yeah, I'll head home after another half hour. Auntie, go ahead and eat. Don't wait for me."

"Alright. Your uncle is working overtime today, so it'll just be the two of us eating. Auntie will wait for you at home."

Meng Chuan hung up Auntie's call and focused on continuing his practice.

Though autumn had arrived, the weather had not fully turned cold.

Meng Chuan had been practicing for a long time, and beads of sweat the size of beans dripped steadily down his body.

"Two years, and it hasn't budged at all. Why is this last one percent so difficult?"

Because Meng Chuan had been born with memories of his previous life, he had displayed maturity far beyond his peers from a young age.

On the day he turned four, when he first learned the "National Obligatory Basic Fist Art," a mysterious panel had suddenly appeared in Meng Chuan's mind.

At the time, four-year-old Meng Chuan focused his mind and looked toward it.