Chapter 7

Once he started practicing, he threw himself into it wholeheartedly—this was Bai Lang's habit. Life after transmigrating had little joy to offer, and neither his physical condition nor his personal interests gave him any fondness for the sensual entertainments of that world. The only pleasure left to him was martial arts.

Bai Lang focused completely on practicing his fist techniques while coordinating his breathing and the circulation of his inner force—this beginner's method of cultivating inner strength required both motion and stillness. He could never master it through sitting meditation and breath regulation alone. The fist techniques Bai Lang practiced now had already developed their own forms and ideas. Thirty-two Forms Long Fist was the foundation, while the Fist Manual was a collection of research into beginner-level hand and foot techniques and basic explanations of martial principles, compiled by the Changle Gang and many small and medium-sized sects. Anyone with even a little talent for martial arts could use it to develop a style of fist techniques better suited to themselves.

The flourishing of the Martial Way was the reality of the world Bai Lang had transmigrated into. Bai Lang was no fool to begin with, and with the memories of a modern man, he was even more "well-informed." However, the martial arts he had read about in wuxia novels and webnovels were too advanced to be of any use to the fist techniques he was currently cultivating. So he could only follow the explanations in the Fist Manual and explore on his own.

As his inner force circulated, his fists and kicks followed suit. Everyone's flow of energy differed, so naturally they could develop different skills—this was probably the lowest level of personally "creating" martial arts. What one developed was generally a fist technique suited to oneself. Bai Lang had spent three years on it and had finally reached this step.

His fist techniques could now be considered well integrated. As for when he could be said to have truly entered the hall or reached the pinnacle—perhaps that would take a lifetime. Even these foundational hand and foot techniques might not be fully exhausted after a lifetime of study. There is no flawless fist technique. All I can do is train hard and strive to get close to one. This was the conclusion Bai Lang had reached through his "modern" way of thinking.

The sky gradually brightened, but Bai Lang remained wholly absorbed in his fist techniques, turning a blind eye to the Japanese office drones already appearing on the road as though they did not exist at all. Every punch and kick carried its own imposing force. With inner force attached, the power of his techniques was no small matter—many of their special striking effects could only be regarded as legends in this world.

There were also people watching him practice, all standing nearby in amazement—though they were really just watching for the spectacle and understood none of it. Perhaps they merely felt that this Chinese kung fu looked incredibly powerful. Bai Lang's current stance looked quite similar to Baji Quan. A slap, a tear, then a step forward and an Exploding Fist—it looked exactly like Baji Quan's signature move, Fierce Tiger Climbs Mountain.

This move was fairly famous in Japan as well. Not only had it been used to death in anime, even the short animations played in mobile games had worn it out. Thus, Fierce Tiger Climbs Mountain was quickly recognized by the men and women watching. Yet Bai Lang had mixed in certain profound principles of Tiger Form Fist, making everyone feel as though a real fierce tiger were attacking them.

The crowd all retreated with startled cries, and some even fell flat on their backs. Although Bai Lang made no sound, the spectators seemed to hear a fierce tiger's roar and see one bounding through the park. In truth, they were not wrong. If he continued cultivating, Bai Lang really would be able to condense the true intent of his fist techniques and manifest the form of a fierce tiger. Still, it was only an illusion created by force of presence. Let alone a Xiantian Master, even a martial artist who had opened the Eight Extraordinary Meridians or the Twelve Primary Meridians could shatter such phantoms with a single shout.

This was merely a small sight along the path of the Martial Way. Being able to cultivate such an illusion showed that one's aptitude was passable and that one could continue advancing in martial arts. Bai Lang was nearly at this level at his age, which meant he still had a future ahead of him—already quite impressive. Those who reached this level at ten or even younger were disciples of famous sects, and among them were those who had skipped this stage from the beginning and directly started by opening the Ren and Du Meridians.

The onlookers grew more and more excited, and some even made phone calls—probably to television stations or newspapers, hoping to earn a little money for the tip. But Bai Lang's practice was more or less over. He gathered his stance, let out a long breath, and exhaled a drawn-out "Hah." Ignoring the spectators, he prepared to return to the hotel for a shower and breakfast. Next, I still have to visit the tourist attraction Oshino Hakkai.

Before the bored people from the television stations and the like could arrive, Bai Lang had already finished breakfast. He had quite the appetite, far greater than those Japanese who ate at cat-food levels. Carrying his luggage, he followed the tour group onto the bus and set off. Bai Lang had more or less figured out what he would encounter over the next ten years. So they're basically giving me ten years to cultivate for free? But can I stay in this world? I doubt it. I just don't know whether time passes at the same rate in these two places.

In Bai Lang's view, ten years would at most be enough to cultivate his force of presence. Cultivating internal energy in this world would probably yield twice the effort for half the result—because whenever he cultivated inner force here, he could sense that the world's vital energy was extremely thin. If he were not still at the level of training external techniques, then for someone else who had already begun cultivating the deeper aspects of internal arts, these ten years would probably be completely wasted.

Looking at it this way, the Jade Fish did not seem like much of a cheat at all. It might even be something that hastened death. Yet he could no longer throw it away, and Bai Lang had no desire whatsoever to test the consequences mentioned by that voice.

Oshino Hakkai was rather unremarkable. At least Bai Lang did not see what was so interesting about a few ponds—the water was exceptionally clear and the fish swimming inside were huge, supposedly seventy or eighty years old, but Bai Lang still found it boring. It was a tourist attraction, after all, probably meant to lure in foreigners and sell them some souvenirs.

Later that day, their bus arrived at another place for them to stay—supposedly a hot spring inn. But one look told Bai Lang that this was nothing more than the backwoods. There were small country villas everywhere, and once again, no streetlights. A railway did run through somewhere nearby, though. After putting down his luggage, Bai Lang wandered around the area.

The only things here that could be considered connected to modern society, aside from the hot spring inn itself, were a vending machine and a 7-Eleven convenience store more than two hundred meters away. Bai Lang bought a bottle of water at the convenience store, leaned against the wall outside, and drank it slowly. It was the time when students finished their club activities and headed home. Watching the middle school students passing by, he could not help feeling a little sentimental. This body is probably only about high school age.

Japanese schoolgirls all wore makeup. At least, from Bai Lang's perspective, they all seemed fairly attractive. However, the shape of the legs beneath those skirts was not particularly appealing, and they were not very tall either—Bai Lang was now one hundred seventy-six centimeters tall, which was not short for his age. Just as he idly watched the students passing by, a truck suddenly came swerving toward them.