Embodying Myriad Traits, I Will Eventually Become Immortal

Great Chu governed through martial prowess. Even in schools that taught both academics and martial arts, homeroom teachers had to possess at least the Third Blood Qi Threshold.

"Yo, Meng Chuan, you've started learning stance work?"

Meng Chuan replied, "Yeah, I just got started."

The homeroom teacher rubbed the bridge of his nose and watched for a moment.

"Just started? Your form's pretty standard. Where did you learn it?"

Peaceful High School was not a specialized martial arts school. Only after students split into academic and martial tracks in their second year were martial-track students taught stance work.

After all, some students were born with physical deficiencies, or for other reasons such as personality, did not want to practice martial arts and preferred academics.

It was fine to have those students throw a few punches, but making them hold painful stances was simply asking too much.

"At Infinite Martial Arts Academy in Greenland Square. I think they teach pretty well."

"Your uncle's got some money, huh? Infinite Martial Arts Academy isn't cheap. But I heard their owner is incredibly skilled.

You need to take the initiative and latch onto him. Don't be lazy. If you can become his disciple or something, kid, you'll have it made for life."

Though Meng Chuan had only just entered his first year of high school, his homeroom teacher remembered him well. He had good natural talent, but he was stubborn as a mule and never listened no matter what anyone said.

He did not expect Meng Chuan to take those words to heart. He was merely fulfilling his duty as a teacher. Still, this kid had started practicing stances today. Maybe it was a good change? Maybe the prodigal had turned over a new leaf?

The homeroom teacher had talked himself thirsty. He lowered his head and took a sip from the teacup in his hand. When he looked up again, Meng Chuan had already begun practicing the National Obligatory Basic Fist Art.

"..."

In the blink of an eye, Saturday arrived.

Over the past five days, Meng Chuan had spent around ten hours each day comprehending the National Obligatory Basic Fist Art. To that end, he had even stopped attending class, running to the track every day to practice his punches.

The academic teachers could not handle him, so they reported it to the homeroom teacher, who called his uncle.

"Officer Meng, your Meng Chuan has been skipping class every day lately."

"No way, Teacher?"

In Meng Yongzhi's mind, Chuan'er was not that kind of person.

"He runs off to the track to practice punches instead of attending academic classes."

"Alright, thank you, Teacher. Hey! Don't run! Stop right there! Sorry, Teacher, I'm on duty right now and rather busy. Sorry, I have to hang up first. Once Meng Chuan gets home, I'll definitely give him a proper lesson..."

Homeroom teacher: "Beep beep beep."

Meng Chuan took supplements while holding his stance. Even while practicing punches, he had not neglected his stance work. Unfortunately, his progress was slow. Five days had passed, yet the panel had not budged in the slightest.

Grand Unity Three Talents Stance: Human Stance (1%)

The progress of his stance work was simply too slow, but Meng Chuan knew full well that without the panel and One Proof, Eternal Proof, he was just an ordinary person. There was nothing to be discouraged about.

If he persevered, everything would change once the National Obligatory Basic Fist Art broke through its limit. He could only steel himself and keep working hard, lest he waste this extraordinary encounter of his.

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Meng Chuan had arranged with Wang Yue on Friday to go to the martial arts academy together at seven on Saturday morning.

Yong'an City had been unsettled lately. Wang Yue's family was wealthy, so his father had spent a hefty sum to hire a bodyguard at the Eighth Blood Qi Threshold for close protection.

What drew the most attention was the pair of specially fitted gloves on the bodyguard's hands. Whenever he unconsciously clenched his fists, four stark white bone claws automatically extended from the uppermost knuckles of every finger but his thumbs, just like Wolverine from Meng Chuan's previous life.

They were probably Demon Subduing Weapons. Meng Chuan had never seen any other Demon Subduing Weapons, so he did not dare jump to conclusions.

"Wang Yue, can he go in?"

Meng Chuan stopped at the entrance of the martial arts academy and asked worriedly as he looked at the burly man in a suit and sunglasses who stood glued to Wang Yue's side.

He was worried that Wang Yue's bodyguard had not paid tuition and would be sent flying by Luo Guanyun's punch the moment he entered.

"I paid double. Of course he can!"

Meng Chuan still did not understand the world of the rich. With Qianyuan Thunderclap in the academy, there was no chance of any danger anyway.

Qin Mengya, whom Wang Yue secretly liked, had not come today. On the training grounds, Wang Yue was somewhat absentminded as well.

"Fatty, train properly. Don't look so listless."

Meng Chuan was practicing his stance under Liu Ru's guidance. Seeing Fatty sitting on the floor spacing out, he could not bear to watch him waste his father's two thousand yuan like this.

"Ah, I've got no energy when I can't see Qin Mengya."

So this fatty was actually a devoted romantic. But based on Meng Chuan's understanding of him, the guy's laziness was simply acting up.

"Get up and train. Qin Mengya's blood qi was already 1.68 at her last test—she's almost at two. Look at yourself. How are you worthy of her?"

"I've broken through one too, alright! If you don't believe me, let's have a spar?"

Though he had always followed Meng Chuan's lead, Meng Chuan had struck Wang Yue's sore spot, and he bristled like a cat whose fur had been raised.

Meng Chuan thought to himself that although Wang Yue had barely forced his way past the First Blood Qi Threshold with supplements, the gap between them was not large. This was a good chance to test his actual combat ability.

"Fierce Tiger Fist—Wang Yue! First Blood Qi Threshold. Please enlighten me."

Wang Yue howled, and everyone practicing punches or holding stances around them turned to look.

Meng Chuan's toes curled hard enough to dig out a three-bedroom apartment. He had not expected Wang Yue to make things this awkward.

With no other choice, Meng Chuan took his stance and returned the salute.

"National Obligatory Basic Fist Art—Meng Chuan. Zero Blood Qi Threshold. Please enlighten me."

"I know that fatty. He's a rich second-generation kid here to experience life. Who's the guy opposite him?"

"The one opposite is an expert too. He was born missing a screw, and he'll be the future compiler of the new National Obligatory Basic Fist Art."

"??"

This person had not come last weekend and did not understand what the other meant.

"Anyway, just watch. The fatty's nothing special, but Meng Chuan's National Obligatory Basic Fist Art has some real substance. He might actually beat someone stronger than himself."

Although the two stood at the very bottom of the martial arts world, the people of Great Chu loved martial arts and loved watching others fight even more. Quite a few minor experts at the Second and Third Blood Qi Thresholds gathered around.

Now that everyone had surrounded them, Wang Yue gradually came to his senses and began to regret it. He knew Chuan Bro's National Obligatory Basic Fist Art better than anyone else. When Meng Chuan practiced, the whistling of his fists through the air was no fake.

"Let's not fight. Chuan'er Bro, can't I just surrender?"

Wang Yue's family had been in business for three generations. By his generation, their skin was exceptionally thick, and he did not care about a martial artist's pride at all.

"Too late. Take this!"

They had already shouted those embarrassing slogans, and the pants were already halfway off. They had to fight!

Meng Chuan stepped forward with his left foot and assumed a bow stance, then launched a swift attack with his right fist.

Wang Yue was, after all, at the First Blood Qi Threshold. He easily dodged Meng Chuan's probing strike.

"Damn it, Chuan'er Bro, you're serious?"

Wang Yue formed tiger claws with both hands and bared his teeth as he roared. Combined with his round body, the sight made everyone around them burst into laughter.

"Here I come."

Wang Yue charged toward Meng Chuan. His Fierce Tiger Descends Mountain carried considerable momentum, if only because of his sheer bulk.

Meng Chuan decided not to meet him head-on. Centering himself on his left foot, he withdrew half a step to avoid the collision, then immediately stepped forward and drove his elbow into Wang Yue's huge belly.

"Damn, this fatty really is all flesh."

Meng Chuan's elbow strike did not break through his defense.

"Hehe, Chuan'er Bro, I built for defense. Your level's too low—you can't hurt me."

Meng Chuan ignored Wang Yue's taunt. He straightened and continued pressing the attack, while Wang Yue completely gave up on defense and kept charging with Fierce Tiger Descends Mountain.

"How do you deal with something like this? You can't hurt him at all."

"There's no easy way. But this is nothing. Those body-tempering martial artists are even more ridiculous. You can only wait for an opening."

The surrounding onlookers discussed it among themselves.

Faced with this situation, Meng Chuan remained unruffled. The National Obligatory Basic Fist Art was a foundational fist art and consumed very little stamina.

Furthermore, with its proficiency on the verge of breaking its limit, he flexibly shifted his moves from heavy punches to light strikes. His hands fluttered like nimble butterflies, while his footwork and punches fused with the Three Powers Stance, changing freely.

His fists followed his heart, and his heart followed his intent. Meng Chuan gradually got fired up. This was the charm of fist arts, and also his lifelong pursuit.

"Holy shit, look at that Meng Chuan! He's fighting beautifully!"

"Yeah. His blood qi might be lacking, but his fist art forms are fucking incredible!"

The spectators gradually fell silent and watched carefully. Being able to perform a fist art like that was a skill in itself, one worthy of respect.

As Meng Chuan entered his rhythm, Wang Yue completely lost control of the tempo. Faced with fists coming at him from every direction, he could only defend passively.

After a long and intense battle, Meng Chuan finally found an opportunity. He swept low and tripped Wang Yue to the ground. After falling, Wang Yue was too exhausted to continue and conceded.

Meng Chuan crouched down, pulled Wang Yue to his feet, and patted the dust from his clothes.

"It's fine, Chuan Bro. It's not embarrassing to lose to you."

Liu Ru was the first to applaud. Then the entire training ground erupted in thunderous applause. Meng Chuan had given them a performance straight out of a fist art textbook.