Comprehensive Martial Arts: My Master is Huang Rong

The more fiercely Guo Fu attacked, the harder it was to land a hit, and the more frustrated and powerless she felt. Her breathing grew heavy, and beads of sweat gathered on her forehead.

"This brat, slippery as an eel—can't catch him!" Guo Fu cursed inwardly.

She abruptly changed her move, her right leg whipping out like a lash toward Lin Xuan's waist and abdomen, the speed so sharp that the air let out a piercing shriek.

Lin Xuan's eyes narrowed slightly. He didn't dodge completely. The instant Guo Fu's whip-leg was about to touch his body, he stepped half a pace back with his left foot while arching his torso backward.

His left hand, with an unnatural suppleness yet uncanny precision, shot out like a venomous snake.

His fingertips, at the moment Guo Fu's whip-leg swept past, lightly traced a pressure point on the outside of her calf.

It was a subtle spot that ordinary people would never notice, nor could they distinguish it by sight alone.

Guo Fu felt a sudden numbness in her calf, a wave of limpness spreading through the entire leg. The force of her whip-leg instantly collapsed, and her movement faltered.

That falter was all he needed.

Lin Xuan pressed his advantage without mercy. His right hand, following Guo Fu's off-balance momentum, gently latched onto her wrist.

His motion seemed soft, but it concealed a clever application of force. He didn't use brute strength; instead, he leveraged Guo Fu's own forward momentum, twisting her along the line of her power.

"Ah!" Guo Fu let out a delicate cry as a sharp pain shot through her arm.

Having gained the upper hand, Lin Xuan didn't press the attack. He merely gave a light push, and Guo Fu lost her balance, stumbling and nearly falling to the ground.

He quickly withdrew his hands, his expression calm, his breathing not even hurried.

On the training ground, the atmosphere froze instantly.

Guo Fu steadied herself. Her face alternated between red and pale—flushed from exertion, but also burning with shame and disbelief.

She stared at Lin Xuan's composed face, her mind blank.

She, Guo Fu, had actually lost?

Lost to a junior brother who had only joined a few months ago, and with Internal Energy sealed off?

This was the greatest humiliation of her life!

Huang Rong's gaze had been fixed on the duel from start to finish. Now, her beautiful eyes were filled with shock and deep thought.

She saw clearly: Lin Xuan had not used any martial arts she had taught him, nor had there been any fluctuation of Internal Energy.

His moves were simple to the extreme, yet exquisite to the extreme. His grasp of timing, angles, and the acupoints of the human body was simply unbelievable.

Especially that final move—lightly touching the pressure point with his fingertip, instantly dismantling the opponent's attack, then borrowing force to redirect it—was masterfully clever. This was far beyond what an ordinary martial artist could achieve.

She suddenly realized that Lin Xuan's so-called "Primal Essence Return Breath" might not be empty talk. He harbored deeper secrets.

But regardless, the result of this duel was an iron fact.

Lin Xuan had won.

Guo Fu's face flushed crimson. She bit her lower lip, her silver teeth nearly grinding to dust. She had lost, with no excuse at all.

From childhood to now, when had she ever been so humiliated?

"I... I lost." Her voice was as faint as a mosquito's buzz, laced with humiliation and unwillingness.

Lin Xuan stepped forward. There was no smugness on his face, only a perfectly measured hint of apology: "Senior Sister yielded. This Junior Brother was merely lucky."

His humility left the furious Guo Fu with no outlet for her anger.

She looked into his clear eyes, and no matter how much she hated it, she couldn't find words to accuse him.

"You... what is your condition?" Guo Fu's voice was low and hoarse, as if squeezed from her throat.

She had already prepared herself for humiliation—perhaps he would make her look foolish in front of her Mother, or force her to do something shameful.

Lin Xuan looked at her calmly. He didn't state his condition immediately, but instead wore a mysterious smile.

"Since Senior Sister is a Golden Branch Jade Leaf, and her word is One Word Nine Cauldrons, this disciple naturally trusts her." He first flattered Guo Fu's integrity, making her feel respected.

Then he bowed slightly, his gaze deep and carrying an inexplicable weight.

"As for the condition... this Junior Brother hasn't thought of it yet." Lin Xuan said slowly, his voice carrying an unshakable certainty.

Guo Fu jerked her head up, her beautiful eyes wide with shock. Not thought of it yet? What kind of answer was that?

Lin Xuan continued: "But Senior Sister, rest assured. This Junior Brother will never put you in a difficult position. This condition, this disciple will keep for now, and when the time is ripe... in the future, I will present it to Senior Sister."

He stressed the words "in the future" and "time is ripe" with deep meaning, carrying a sense of ominous expectation.

Hearing this, Guo Fu's shame and humiliation didn't diminish; instead, they were joined by a new unease.

Lin Xuan not naming his condition immediately only made her more unsettled. An unknown condition was far more nerve-wracking than a known humiliation.

She looked at his calm, composed face and suddenly felt that this junior brother, who had only joined recently, had become strangely distant and unfamiliar. He was unlike any man she had ever met, and certainly not like those useless sycophants who fawned over her.

In his eyes, there was a depth and calculation that didn't belong to his age.

She opened her mouth, wanting to say something, but in the end, not a single word came out.

Huang Rong had witnessed the entire process. The way she looked at Lin Xuan now was no longer merely appreciative and trusting; it held a deeper layer of wariness and scrutiny.

Lin Xuan's martial arts style, and his control over this match, had exceeded her expectations.

He didn't lack Internal Energy—he simply disdained to use it, or rather, his power came from a more subtle, hidden path.

He had defeated Guo Fu, yet left his terms hanging unresolved. This style of conduct stirred a flicker of unease within her.

Lin Xuan paid no heed to Huang Rong's scrutiny, nor to the complex, unreadable look in Guo Fu's eyes.

He knew this duel had yielded him a rich harvest.

Not only had he once again displayed his "talent" and "extraordinariness" before Huang Rong, but more crucially, he had secured a "bargaining chip" he could wield at any time—Guo Fu's promise.

This proud and haughty Lady Guo had now stumbled before him, owing him an unknown "debt of gratitude."

He could sense the shame and resentment burning beneath her radiant beauty, but he also knew that despite her willfulness, Guo Fu had her own pride; she would not break her word.

Lin Xuan tilted his head slightly, taking in Guo Fu's lithe, supple figure clad in emerald form-fitting attire, and her face, flushed with anger yet all the more alluring.

A faint, barely perceptible curve tugged at the corner of his lips, and a surge of indescribable satisfaction welled up within him.

Author's Note:

Author's note: One more chapter posted. Welcome to add to your collection.

Chapter Eight: Offering a Plan to Break the Tartars

Xiangyang City was shrouded in a palpable sense of oppression.

Lately, the Mongol Army had tightened its siege day by day. The city's grain and supplies could still barely hold out, but what troubled them more was an unprecedented breach in the city's reconnaissance defenses.

In recent days, subtle chaos had been spreading through the city.

Stray cats and dogs kept breaking into the grain storage area—seemingly harmless, yet always distracting the guards at critical moments, creating gaps in the patrols. The armory had suffered a few small fires, which, though not catastrophic, sowed unease. Even some garrison soldiers had fallen ill with strange symptoms unlike any common plague.

To Huang Rong and Guo Jing, these seemingly isolated incidents all pointed to one terrifying truth: Mongol scouts had already infiltrated Xiangyang City openly.

Inside the Council Hall, the atmosphere was heavier than ever.

A massive map lay spread across the table, densely marked with the city's terrain and troop deployments. Guo Jing's square, honest face was etched with anxiety and worry. He slammed his palm heavily on the table, producing a dull thud.

"Rong'er, these Tartars are truly hateful! I've ordered tighter patrols, but these rats always find a crack to slip through. If we don't root them out completely, the trouble will be endless!"

Guo Jing's voice was heavy, his brow furrowed with concern for the nation and its people. He excelled at head-on, hard-fought battles, but against this invisible undercurrent, he seemed at a loss.

Huang Rong wore a plain dark-blue silk dress, its hem embroidered with subtle auspicious cloud patterns that accentuated her slender, graceful figure.

Today, her hair was pinned up immaculately, secured by a single wooden hairpin. Her face, free of makeup, could not hide the exhaustion from days of relentless toil. Her usually sparkling, lively eyes were now faintly bloodshot, and her brows were tightly knit, betraying the deep thoughts churning within.

Her slender, jade-like hand pressed lightly against her temple, as if trying to smooth away the profound worry. Those hands, which once plucked zither strings, healed wounds with acupressure, and commanded troops, now seemed to bear a thousand pounds of weight.

Though her robes were loose, they could not fully conceal her shapely figure. Her full bosom rose and fell gently with her slow breaths, and her waist was slender, yet at this moment, it seemed bent under an invisible burden.

"Brother Jing, ordinary searches and arrests can only catch small fry. These scouts can create chaos in the city only because they have inside help and a secret communication network."

"If we can't trace their connections and find their leader, catching more of them will be useless." Huang Rong's voice carried her characteristic gentleness, but her tone was filled with calm, clear judgment.

She knew well that in a war of this scale, information warfare was more terrifying than brute force.

She paced to the map, her delicate fingertip lightly tapping several key positions marked on the city defense chart—the sites of recent anomalies.

"The problem is, they can so precisely avoid our main defenses and know the city's situation inside out. That means something is wrong within our ranks. To find them, we must first find the hidden thread..."

Huang Rong let out a soft sigh, faint yet laden with bone-deep weariness.

She lifted her eyes to the doorway, where Lin Xuan stood respectfully, clearly come to pay his respects. She gave a slight nod, signaling him to enter, but did not ask him to leave.

Over the past few months, Lin Xuan's displayed talent and insight had gradually led her to regard him as trustworthy, even, in some respects, as a "confidant" she could confide in and discuss matters with.

Lin Xuan stepped into the hall, eyes straight ahead, and bowed respectfully to Guo Jing and Huang Rong.

He naturally sensed the heavy atmosphere in the room and the exhaustion nearly spilling from Huang Rong's eyes. His heart stirred—he knew his opportunity had come.

"Xuan'er, you're here?" Huang Rong's voice regained a trace of its usual gentleness. "Do you have any thoughts?"

She asked casually, not expecting much. After all, even she found such military strategy daunting; why trouble a youth with it?

Lin Xuan replied respectfully, "Master, Master's Husband, your disciple is dull-witted and cannot fathom the depths of this mystery. But... I take the liberty of offering a few crude guesses about the recent strange events in the city. May I speak?"

He deliberately held back, showing humility while piquing their curiosity.

Guo Jing glanced at Huang Rong. Seeing encouragement in her eyes, he said in a deep voice, "Speak freely. Xuan'er, your mind is meticulous; perhaps you can spot what we've missed."

Lin Xuan rejoiced inwardly. He knew Huang Rong's look was telling him not to hold back. He cleared his throat, and his tone became steady and confident, a stark contrast to his usual humble demeanor.

"Your disciple believes these recent disturbances in the city are not simple scout infiltration, but a tightly interwoven strategy of 'Information Counter-Penetration' and 'Psychological Offense and Defense.'"

Huang Rong and Guo Jing both froze at this. These terms and concepts were entirely new to them.

Lin Xuan continued, "First, regarding the dogs biting the grain stores, the armory fires, and the soldiers falling ill. These events seem coincidental, but they are not."

"The dogs biting the grain stores aim to create panic, making the people believe the city is running low on food. The armory fires hint at mismanagement among the defenders, shaking morale. The soldiers' illnesses spread rumors to sap fighting spirit, possibly combined with some colorless, odorless poison to fundamentally weaken our strength."

He paused, his tone growing more forceful: "None of these are meant to cause direct damage. Their purpose is to create the illusion that 'we are everywhere, and you have nowhere to hide,' thereby psychologically breaking the will of Xiangyang's soldiers and civilians."

Huang Rong's eyes, which had been slightly dim from exhaustion, now lit up like two ignited brilliant stars.

She lightly bit her rosy lips, a trace of shock appearing on her delicate face. Lin Xuan's analysis, from an angle she had never considered, revealed the deeper conspiracy of the Mongols.

She unconsciously leaned forward, her deep blue silk dress gently draping to outline her graceful curves, her full bosom rising slightly, betraying her inner agitation.

"Continue!" she said urgently, her voice carrying a strong thirst for knowledge.

Lin Xuan knew he had fully captured her attention. He smiled confidently and went on:

"Second, since they want to create this illusion, we'll turn their own tactic against them. They want to spread rumors, so we can 'refute' them in reverse."

"We can release some deliberately designed rumors—half true, half false—to trap the Mongols in a maze of uncertainty. For example, we can spread word that the city's grain stores are abundant, the garrison is equipped with new weapons, and even exaggerate Master's Husband Guo Jing and Master's martial arts to instill fear in them."

"But that's not the core." Lin Xuan shifted his tone, making Huang Rong and Guo Jing's hearts tighten again.

"The core is how to root out those hidden spies and informants. They aren't rats—they're the puppeteers behind the strings."

Lin Xuan's gaze swept over the map as he said gravely, "We can exploit their 'thirst for knowledge' to set a trap."

"We can deliberately leak important 'top-secret intelligence'—information that only specific informants can access—and embed within it 'markers' known only to us."

"For instance, the timing of a major supply movement, the repair plan for a certain city defense fortification, or even fake but highly realistic 'strategic deployment maps.'"

"This 'intelligence' must not be passed by word of mouth; it must be transmitted in written form or as 'secret orders' known only to specific personnel. Once these 'marked' pieces of intelligence reach the Mongols through some channel, we can use process of elimination to quickly pinpoint the leaker and the informant cell behind them!"

Lin Xuan's tone grew more resolute, his eyes gleaming with wisdom. He seemed like a commander orchestrating a campaign, turning the entire battlefield into a chessboard.

"Going deeper, there's 'public opinion backlash,'" Lin Xuan said. "They want to create panic and internal strife, so we can do the opposite. In the near future, we can strengthen the organization and mobilization of the city's populace—for example, by intensifying city defense drills, distributing extra supplies, or even holding morale-boosting events."

"The key is to incorporate seemingly casual 'drill errors' into these activities and training."

"For instance, suddenly increasing patrol intensity while showing 'relaxation' at a certain section of the wall. Or deliberately exposing a 'weakness' during supply transport, then quickly patching it up, making the spies think they have an opening but repeatedly coming up empty."

"This will create an illusion for them: Xiangyang's defenses seem lax, but in truth, every move hides a trick. It will lure them into revealing themselves while exhausting them, until they eventually fall into disarray."

Lin Xuan finished in one breath, and the entire Council Hall fell silent.