Comprehensive Martial Arts: My Master is Huang Rong

Huang Rong's demeanor was completely renewed; the weariness between her brows had been swept away, replaced by a clarity and decisiveness. She summoned Lin Xuan, a hint of gravity in her eyes.

"Xuan'er, there's a small Mongol Scout Squad outside the city. They've been repeatedly harassing our supply routes and plundering the people." Huang Rong's voice was crisp and pleasant, like a mountain spring. Her gaze fell on Lin Xuan, carrying expectation.

"Today, I'll take you along—both to eliminate this menace and to give you some experience."

Lin Xuan felt no tension at her words; instead, a surge of eager anticipation and battlelust welled up within him. He knew that being transported to this chaotic era meant he would eventually face the test of blood and fire.

He took a deep breath, cupped his hands, and said, "Disciple obeys. The outskirts of Xiangyang City are treacherous; please be careful, Master." His tone was steady, his gaze firm, without a trace of cowardice.

Huang Rong smiled slightly, a hint of approval in that smile, clearly satisfied with his composure in the face of danger and his nature of putting others first. Her eyes rested on Lin Xuan, as if she could see through to the depths of his potential.

The two changed into agile combat attire. Today, Huang Rong had deliberately chosen a form-fitting dark green outfit that accentuated her lithe figure perfectly. The tight clothes highlighted her vigorous posture, and every movement carried an indescribable lightness and dashing grace. Her long hair was tied high, with only a few strands dancing in the wind, adding to her heroic air. A wide belt of the same color cinched her slender waist, making it seem as if it could be encircled with one hand, while her long, straight legs appeared even more powerful and agile in the outfit. Her face was already stunningly beautiful, and now, stripped of its usual gentleness, it bore the sharpness and decisiveness of a battlefield commander, yet this only enhanced her charm, adding a unique and captivating allure.

Taking advantage of the city gates opening, they slipped out quietly.

The land outside Xiangyang City was far from the peace within. Broken walls and scorched earth bore witness everywhere to the cruelty of war. The air carried a faint scent of blood and gunpowder, mingling with the earthy smell into a unique, oppressive atmosphere.

Lin Xuan followed behind Huang Rong, hearing nothing but the wind, the distant cries of hawks from somewhere unknown, and the faint rustle of withered grass underfoot.

As they walked, Huang Rong gave instructions, her voice low but each word clear in Lin Xuan's ears: "Xuan'er, look at this grove. The Mongol Soldiers are used to setting ambushes here. They like to use the terrain, hiding in bushes or tall grass, waiting for the right moment."

She raised a slender hand, pointing at a dead tree—her fingers long and pale, a stark contrast to the desolation around them: "And that dead tree over there. Look closely—are there fresh cuts from blades or axes? Those are traces of them making fire on the spot. The finer the detail, the more it reveals their whereabouts."

Lin Xuan focused intently, memorizing everything Huang Rong taught him. These were precious lessons gained from countless battles. He quickly spotted details that ordinary people would miss—fresh cuts on the dead wood, slightly disturbed soil on the ground, and even the faint, elusive smell of smoke in the air.

"Two li ahead, there's an abandoned village. The Mongol scouts like to use it as a base," Huang Rong said in a low voice.

"There are eleven of them. Two are on perimeter watch, one is keeping lookout at the village entrance, and the other eight are either resting inside or preparing food and water." Her tone was calm, as if she didn't consider them a threat.

She continued, "Remember, our goal today isn't just to wipe them out—it's to teach you how to fight. This is your first real battle. Don't think about fancy moves; just aim for a single, fatal strike."

"Soon, you'll follow me in. I'll take out the perimeter sentries first, then you charge straight to the village entrance and deal with the lookout scout." Huang Rong's eyes held a hint of encouragement; she believed Lin Xuan could do it.

Lin Xuan's heart was full of excitement.

Huang Rong glanced at him, saw no tension but instead a spark of exhilaration in his eyes, and gave a gentle smile. She simply patted his shoulder, signaling him to follow. Her figure moved like a ghost through the woods, each step weightless, almost soundless. Lin Xuan followed closely, ready to burst into action at any moment.

Soon, they reached the edge of the abandoned village. Huang Rong gestured for Lin Xuan to hide, while she herself flickered and melted into the night, blending seamlessly with the surrounding shadows.

Through his Yin Yang Deficit Supplementation Technique, Lin Xuan clearly sensed Huang Rong silently approaching the first sentry. A faint, muffled grunt, and the sentry went silent. Then the second—equally clean, without a sound. Huang Rong's martial arts had reached a level of perfection; killing without a trace, her lightness and ruthlessness were awe-inspiring.

After eliminating the perimeter sentries, she made a gesture to Lin Xuan, signaling him to move.

Lin Xuan gathered his Internal Energy into his palms, feeling them warm slightly, and shot forward like lightning toward the village entrance. His speed was immense as he weaved through the wild grass.

The Mongol scout on the lookout platform was completely unaware, dozing against the crumbling mud wall. Lin Xuan accelerated his charge, and the scout seemed to sense something, jerking his head up.

In that instant, their eyes met. A flash of resolve crossed Lin Xuan's eyes, and he clearly saw the surprise in the scout's.

This was his first kill in this world.

He unleashed the Falling Blossoms Divine Sword Palm that Huang Rong had taught him. The palm wind howled, striking the vital point with precision. The scout's body convulsed violently, letting out a short, hoarse cry, then slumped limply. Lin Xuan quickly withdrew his palm; though there was no blood on it, the impact was even stronger.

That impact grew more intense, but he had no time to process it. The Mongol Soldiers inside the village were awakened by the cry, and seven or eight figures burst out, shouting loudly. Lin Xuan quickly adjusted his breathing, instinctively entering a combat state.

He had no time to dwell on the feeling of killing; he instinctively entered battle mode. He remembered Huang Rong's lesson: on the battlefield, hesitation means death. His Yin Yang Deficit Supplementation Technique proved astonishingly useful—every enemy movement, every trace of killing intent was clearly captured and analyzed in his eyes. He was no longer the youth shocked by his first kill, but a warrior pushed to the brink, a born hunter.

He moved nimbly, dodging a wild sword swing from one Mongol Soldier, while his palm shadows flew, striking the opponent's throat with precision. This strike was fast, accurate, and ruthless, without any hesitation, as if he had practiced it a thousand times. Then, sidestepping to avoid a sweeping mace from another enemy, he struck back with a palm, the force penetrating bone, directly shattering the man's wrist. The Mongol Soldier screamed, his mace clattering to the ground. Lin Xuan gave him no second chance; his palm shifted and ended his life.

Every strike was sharp and efficient, with no more hesitation. His movements grew smoother, more lethal. He began actively seeking out enemy weaknesses, using his enhanced speed to weave through the group, each strike claiming a life.

Though his palm technique lacked Huang Rong's ethereal grace, it was full of power and efficiency, each palm aimed at vital points, carrying the essence of the Falling Blossoms Divine Sword Palm—palm wind like a blade, unstoppable.

Huang Rong had also charged into the village. Her movements were elusive, like a wisp of smoke, darting through the enemy ranks. Her palm wind carried force, each strike as precise as thunder, killing the Mongol Soldiers who came to reinforce. Her movements were graceful yet deadly, as if dancing a dance of death.

Her dark green combat attire flickered in and out of sight in the night, her vigorous figure leaping with astonishing explosive power, yet impossibly light. She was clearing the enemies at top speed, but her peripheral vision was always on Lin Xuan, and she felt genuine satisfaction with his performance.

Lin Xuan adapted quickly in the fight. He began actively seeking enemy weaknesses, using his enhanced speed to kill several more in just a few breaths.

He even noticed a burly Mongol Centurion, whose martial arts were clearly a cut above, trying to organize a counterattack.

A cold glint flashed in Lin Xuan's eyes. He stopped bothering with the other soldiers, flickered, and charged straight at the centurion. Seeing this, the centurion roared and swung his blade. Lin Xuan advanced instead of retreating, his palm wind like a gale, striking straight at the man's chest. The centurion couldn't react in time and took a palm to the heart, crashing to the ground.

When all the Mongol Soldiers lay dead, the village fell silent. Only the breathing of Lin Xuan and Huang Rong remained, along with the thick smell of blood in the air.

Lin Xuan's palms tingled slightly, his chest heaved, and his face was a bit pale, but his eyes had grown firm.

He felt the residual force in his palms and the heavy responsibility it carried. The shock of his first kill had now been replaced by the adrenaline of battle and the thrill of victory; though echoes remained, they no longer troubled him.

Huang Rong walked slowly to Lin Xuan. She didn't ask how he felt right away but first checked the scene to confirm there were no survivors or loose ends. Her gaze swept over each corpse, ensuring they had all died from vital strikes with no signs of struggle.

"Clean work—no one escaped, and no clues left behind." Huang Rong nodded, her eyes falling on Lin Xuan's face. Those eyes were deep and calm.

"How do you feel?" Huang Rong's voice was steady, but Lin Xuan could sense the depth behind it.

Lin Xuan shook his head. "Disciple... feels a bit unsettled." He didn't hide the impact of killing, but he knew it wasn't fear—just an instinctive reaction to the loss of life.

Huang Rong spoke slowly, "This is an inevitable reaction for anyone killing for the first time. But Xuan'er, you did very well. In that critical moment, you overcame hesitation and acted decisively—that's the rarest quality. Even more remarkable, you adapted to the battlefield in an extremely short time, even actively seeking out and killing the enemy leader. Such talent is truly rare."

She paused, her tone turning serious: "On the battlefield, there's no room for mercy. They are the claws of the Mongols; every survivor could bring greater disaster to the people of Xiangyang. Every palm you strike is to protect the home behind us and the innocent lives within."

"Remember, on the battlefield, besides martial arts, what matters more is observation, judgment, and decisiveness." Huang Rong continued her teaching.

"When you killed the lookout scout just now, though decisive, it was a bit rough. Next time, learn to conceal yourself faster, grasp the timing more precisely, and immediately sense potential threats around you after striking, rather than dwelling on the effect of a single blow."

She pointed to where Lin Xuan had killed the centurion: "When you killed that centurion, your reaction was already fast. But if you had sensed his aura intensity earlier, you could have made him a priority target, minimizing his threat. You did well, but there's still room for improvement."

Huang Rong's voice wasn't loud, but it reached Lin Xuan's heart. "Your perception and learning ability far exceed ordinary people. Learn to use them well—predict enemy movements on the battlefield, find their weaknesses, strike fatally, and never drag things out. Your performance today has proven you possess this ability."

She looked at Lin Xuan, a flicker of relief in her eyes. Those beautiful orbs were filled with expectation for him. "Your performance has far exceeded my imagination. Xuan'er, you are a born warrior and the hope of Xiangyang. In time, you will surely become the pillar of Xiangyang's resistance against the Mongols!"

Lin Xuan's thoughts churned at her words.

The two discussed battlefield killing techniques for a while longer. As night deepened, Huang Rong swiftly led Lin Xuan back to Xiangyang City.

Chapter 7: Guo Fu's Duel, Overestimating Herself

The next afternoon, the warm sun blazed down, baking the blue bricks on Xiangyang's city walls until they were scalding. Yet in a secluded corner of the Guo Mansion's inner courtyard, deep in the shade of the trees, an unusual tension simmered.

Guo Fu had specially changed into a set of emerald-green form-fitting attire today, which accentuated her curvaceous figure most strikingly.

Her waist was as slender as a willow, easily encircled by a hand, while beneath the taut fabric, the lines of her chest were graceful and full, vibrant with life.

Her oval, pretty face gleamed fair and translucent in the sunlight. Her eyes were like stars, her brows like distant mountains. Though tinged with a hint of petulance, it did nothing to diminish her stunning beauty.

Her glossy black hair was tied high, adding to her spirited, youthful vigor.

At this moment, she leaned against a corridor pillar in the back courtyard, her beautiful eyes fixed on a nearby scene, brimming with obvious jealousy and discontent.

Huang Rong had just finished her morning military duties and was now speaking in low tones with Lin Xuan beside a plum tree. Occasionally, she would murmur softly, even showing a rare, gentle smile.

Especially when Huang Rong's usually calm eyes revealed admiration for Lin Xuan and a faint, barely perceptible dependence, Guo Fu's heart felt as if scratched by a cat's claw—both sour and itchy.

"Hmph! A disciple who's only been here a few months, and Mother favors him so much!" Guo Fu fumed inwardly.

She had been the apple of her parents' eyes since childhood, showered with endless affection. Her father, Guo Jing, though taciturn, treasured her like a precious gem; her mother, Huang Rong, had coddled her from birth.

But Lin Xuan's arrival seemed to have changed all that.

Huang Rong was full of praise for Lin Xuan's diligence and talent. Her usually strict and intelligent mother was uncharacteristically gentle and approving toward him.

Toward her, Mother was mostly stern instruction and high expectations; toward Elder and Younger Wu, it was the care of an elder. But only with Lin Xuan did Mother's gaze seem to hold a touch more tenderness... and softness.

This inexplicable intuition stuck in Guo Fu's heart like a thorn. She couldn't understand why this Junior Brother, who had only joined a few months ago, deserved such special favor from her mother.

What kind of sorcery had Lin Xuan cast on Mother?

The more she thought about it, the angrier she grew. Finally, unable to contain herself, she moved with light, graceful steps and walked straight toward Lin Xuan.

"Junior Brother Lin certainly has a knack for winning my mother's favor," Guo Fu said, her voice dripping with blatant sarcasm. Her tone was crisp but every word was barbed, carrying an overbearing air.

Lin Xuan's face showed a perfectly measured hint of surprise, then he respectfully clasped his hands. "Senior Sister Guo flatters me. This disciple is merely doing his duty."

His humility, in Guo Fu's eyes, only seemed more hypocritical.

Seeing her daughter's tone, Huang Rong furrowed her brows slightly and chided softly, "Fu'er, don't be rude." Though her voice was light, it carried an undeniable authority.

Being rebuked by her mother only stoked Guo Fu's anger. Spoiled by her mother's affection, she was fearless by nature, especially against this "outsider" who had "stolen" her mother's love.

Her beautiful eyes turned to Lin Xuan, a challenge in her gaze. "Junior Brother Lin, I've heard you're exceptionally gifted, that in just a few months you've learned my mother's martial arts quite well. I wonder if you'd care to offer me some pointers?"

The word "pointers" was heavily emphasized, a clear public provocation.

Huang Rong's expression shifted. "Fu'er! Enough! Lin Xuan has only just begun his training, how can you—"

"Mother!" Guo Fu cut her off, standing tall. Her chest rose and fell slightly with her breath, revealing a maiden's stubborn pride.

"Since it's a spar, we'll stop at the touch. If Junior Brother Lin doesn't dare, just say so. I won't force you."

She stressed the word "dare" with extra force, her goading intent unmistakable.

Lin Xuan looked at Guo Fu. Her pretty face radiated youthful arrogance and unshakable pride, her eyes blazing with the fire of provocation.

He sneered inwardly. This Guo Fu was truly a spoiled young lady, so easily riled. But this was exactly the opportunity he needed.

He pretended to ponder, as if hesitant, while inwardly calculating how to make this "duel" most advantageous for him.

"Senior Sister Guo's gracious invitation, this disciple naturally accepts. However..." Lin Xuan paused, piquing Guo Fu's curiosity.

"This disciple's training is shallow, and my Internal Energy is crude. If I were to clash with Senior Sister using Internal Energy, I fear it would not benefit you and might even violate the conventions of the jianghu."

His tone was earnest, as if he were considering her welfare. "In my humble opinion, why don't we set aside Internal Energy and compete purely in the subtlety of techniques, agility of movement, and strength of skill—a true martial spar?"

At these words, Huang Rong's brows furrowed again, and she was about to intervene.

But Guo Fu's face lit up with joy, her eyes sparkling.

No Internal Energy? That suited her perfectly!

She had been trained since childhood in the arts of Peach Blossom Island—exquisite techniques, solid fist and footwork, and strength far beyond the ordinary. She believed that although Lin Xuan had studied for a few months, his Internal Energy was surely far inferior to hers. He might use cleverness to please her mother, but when it came to pure physical combat, she was certain of victory.

Proud and eager to prove Lin Xuan's "hollowness" before her mother, she didn't give a second thought to why he would propose a condition that seemed to disadvantage himself.

"Fine! It's settled!" Guo Fu agreed without hesitation, her crisp voice ringing out, afraid he might back out.

Her beautiful face was now brimming with the confidence of assured victory.

Huang Rong watched her daughter like this, opened her mouth, but ultimately said nothing more. She knew Guo Fu's temperament—once decided, it was hard to change.

She also wanted to see just how far Lin Xuan had progressed in these few months, that he dared to compete with Fu'er in "pure martial arts."

Thus, the two made their way to the training ground within the Guo Mansion, specially used for practice.

The ground was paved with bluestone, surrounded by pines and cypresses, lending a solemn atmosphere.

Guo Fu took her stance first. Her posture was straight, her hands clasped in salute, her eyes blazing with battle intent.

Her emerald-green form-fitting attire outlined her graceful curves to perfection, radiating the unique health and vitality of youth under the sunlight.

Lin Xuan was still dressed in his usual plain blue long robe, his expression calm as he respectfully cupped his hands toward Guo Fu. "Senior Sister, please!"

As Huang Rong called out "Begin," the sparring officially commenced.

Guo Fu did not hesitate. She struck first, moving like a nimble leopardess, her form agile as she lunged straight at Lin Xuan.

The moment she made her move, she unleashed the exquisite boxing techniques of Peach Blossom Island—a continuous stream of ever-changing strikes, her finger wind sharp and fierce, aiming directly at Lin Xuan's vital points.

Her fists and feet carried the strength and ferocity of years of martial training. Though she did not use Internal Energy, her pure physical power alone was enough to split rocks and shatter stone.

Lin Xuan neither dodged nor retreated. He merely shifted his stance slightly. He did not choose to clash head-on or employ any of the refined techniques Guo Fu knew.

What he used was an extremely basic yet subtly eerie footwork.

Instead of stepping back, he moved sideways by the smallest possible margin, evading Guo Fu's fist by mere inches.

Guo Fu's first punch missed, and her second followed immediately, the wind of her fist sharp and carrying the force of her lithe body.

Lin Xuan again shifted by that tiny margin, like a drifting willow catkin, dodging once more.

His movements seemed simple, yet they achieved the realm of "touching without clinging."

Guo Fu threw several consecutive strikes, all of which Lin Xuan deftly neutralized, not even letting her graze his clothes. Her temper flared.

"Hmph! All you know is dodging—what kind of skill is that?" she snapped, her attacks growing fiercer.

Her techniques became broader and more forceful. Every punch, every kick carried immense power, accompanied by the whistling of wind.

The curves of her figure beneath her silk robes, with each movement, displayed a dizzying blend of strength and beauty. Her full chest rose and fell sharply with her breathing, and beads of sweat faintly appeared on her smooth forehead and delicate chin.

Lin Xuan remained composed. The reason he dared to propose a ban on Internal Energy was that the Yin Yang Deficit Supplementation Technique had, over the past few months, thoroughly transformed his body.

His bones and tendons had become more supple, his muscle density had increased, and his reaction speed and explosive power far exceeded the norm. More importantly, his perception had grown exceptionally sharp.

He could clearly predict the trajectory of Guo Fu's fists and feet, even sensing the subtle tremors in her muscles and the direction of her force before she struck.

This allowed him to evade every one of her attacks with the least movement and the most efficient use of energy.