Sparring

At Zhen Miao's command, Zhende froze for a moment. Then his mouth stretched into a grin, and he strode forward. "Yes, Senior Brother Zhen Miao."

Half a year of martial training and plenty of food had made him shoot up considerably. His upper lip had sprouted a dark shadow of stubble, and he had grown broad and burly. Looking at Meng Qi, who was two years younger, his eyes shone with eager delight.

Meng Qi bared his teeth. He hadn't expected Zhen Miao to take this so seriously, but he didn't mind sparring. Right now, he was desperately seeking every chance to fight, so that he could gradually master and meld the Iron Cloth Shirt, Eight Steps of Divine Travel, Arhat Fist, and Five Tigers Severing Gate Saber Technique through actual combat.

"Please instruct me, Senior Brother Zhende." Following Shaolin custom, Meng Qi called Zhende, who was older than him, Senior Brother. He planted his feet apart and settled into the opening stance of Arhat Fist.

Zhende opened his mouth, seeming to want to say something, but in his excitement he couldn't remember what. He even forgot to press his palms together and recite a Buddhist invocation. Instead, he gave his usual "heh-ya" as he did during practice, then struck out with the standard "Arhat Pays Homage to Buddha."

The instant Zhende attacked, Meng Qi felt as if he had sunk underwater. He could hear nothing else or see anything beyond his opponent. Drawing on his experience fighting Cheng Yong, he turned half-sideways to avoid facing Zhende head-on, raised one hand to parry Zhende's fists, and drove the other toward his stomach with tigerish force.

He wasn't stiff or timid at all, despite this being his first sparring match. On the contrary, he took the initiative with striking aggression.

Zhende was about to follow up with his next move when he suddenly felt a gust of force bearing down on him, as if Meng Qi's whole body had come rushing at him.

Faced with this fierce assault, and seeing Meng Qi's unflinching, battle-hungry expression, Zhende felt a chill rise from nowhere. For a moment, he sensed a trace of terrifying killing intent in "Zhending"—the kind of aura that came only from truly fighting others to the death.

His movements slowed at once. Smack! Meng Qi struck him in the stomach. The pain was unbearable; Zhende had no choice but to curl up and fall to the ground, letting out a pained groan.

Was he really that weak? Meng Qi had landed a hit with his first move and was left staring. He had only just begun attacking, and Zhende was already unable to defend himself? That was ridiculously weak.

Meng Qi wasn't the only one taken aback. The warrior monks around him, including Zhen Yong, stared dumbfounded at Zhende curled up on the ground. They couldn't believe that Zhende, who was usually one of the better sparrers, had lost so quickly and so miserably.

Zhen Miao's face was dark as he watched. He hurried over to Zhende, crouched beside him, and used his inner strength to soothe the blood vessels in his stomach, easing his pain.

Only then did Zhen Yong and the others come back to their senses. They stared at Meng Qi in astonishment, thinking, Senior Brother Zhen Yong had originally asked Zhende to teach Zhending a lesson, to show him what was wrong with his irregular techniques. But now it looks as though the proper techniques lost to the irregular ones. This...

As Meng Qi went over their brief exchange, he keenly noticed that Zhende had seemed to freeze for a moment under his fierce attack. Could intimidating your opponent with sheer presence be an important part of a fight, too?

Zhen Miao helped Zhende up and said expressionlessly, "Zhen He, spar with Zhending."

"Yes, Senior Brother Zhen Miao." A burly youth stepped out from the line of warrior monks, standing there like a black iron tower.

Meng Qi had just begun to grasp the key to their last exchange, and he was eager for someone to help him test his theory. He pressed his palms together excitedly. "Please instruct me, Senior Brother Zhen He."

Once Zhen He returned the salute, Meng Qi attacked first, like a猛虎 bursting from its cave.

Zhen He, who was naturally strong, hadn't expected Meng Qi to attack so relentlessly. The moves he had planned were difficult to execute effectively. He kept backing away and bracing against the attacks, looking utterly flustered.

"Ha!"

Meng Qi pressed his advantage, let out a shout, and struck Zhen He in the chest as if he were fighting for his life.

Facing Meng Qi's ferocious assault, Zhen He suddenly felt his legs go weak. His hands, held in a closed-door guard, were knocked apart.

Meng Qi followed through, drawing his fist back and pivoting as he closed in against Zhen He's chest. Turning his back to him, he drove an elbow into Zhen He's right chest.

"Cough, cough!" Meng Qi had been certain of victory and held back some of his strength, but even so, the blow threw Zhen He's breathing out of rhythm and left him coughing violently.

"Thank you for going easy on me." Meng Qi pushed off with his feet, spun away, and pressed his palms together with a smile.

Now that was a satisfying fight!

The onlooking warrior monks, Zhen Yong and Zhende among them, gaped in disbelief. Zhen He, who was usually as strong as an ox, was their sparring nightmare. No matter how skillful their defenses, he would leave their hands numb and their legs weak, until they could barely withstand him. Yet that child-sized Zhending had just beaten Zhen He like a mad tiger, leaving him no chance to fight back.

This is backwards! It should be the other way around! The monks stared at Meng Qi's handsome face, unable to believe what they had just seen.

Zhen He finally caught his breath and scratched his bald head, looking honest and sheepish. "Junior Brother Zhending, you're amazing!"

Zhen Miao gave a soft snort, his expression growing even darker. After a long silence, he said, "Junior Brother Zhending, it seems you come from a family with a long martial tradition. Your qi accumulation has advanced considerably. I doubt any of the junior brothers here can match you. I'll spar with you myself."

Having opened his Eye Apertures, he could naturally see signs of inner strength aiding Meng Qi's movements.

Oh! So that's it!

Zhen Yong and the other warrior monks finally understood. Junior Brother Zhending had opened his dantian and reached Minor Qi Accumulation. No wonder Zhende and Zhen He couldn't beat him!

But Zhen Miao was a teaching monk and an expert in the Orifice Opening Realm. Wouldn't it be too much of a mismatch for him to spar with Zhending?

"Don't worry. I'll keep my strength at the Minor Qi Accumulation stage." Zhen Miao fixed Meng Qi with a sharp gaze.

Meng Qi drew a light breath. Though he knew the gap between them was enormous, his fighting spirit still soared. If I don't even dare to spar, what will I do in a real fight?

Honestly, after going through life-and-death battles, he wasn't afraid of Zhen Miao. Losing was no big deal. As long as he could find the gap and identify his own weaknesses, then even a loss would be worthwhile.

Besides, it wasn't as though he had no chance of winning!

"Please instruct me, Senior Brother Zhen Miao." Meng Qi pressed his palms together, his fighting spirit burning.

The warrior monks drew in a sharp breath. He really dared to spar with Senior Brother Zhen Miao? The gap between them was probably as high as a mountain! Even if Senior Brother Zhen Miao suppressed his strength to the Minor Qi Accumulation stage, he couldn't change his eyesight, experience, or knowledge!

"Good." Seeing that Meng Qi wasn't afraid, Zhen Miao's expression softened. "You strike first."

Meng Qi didn't hold back. His right leg stepped forward into a bow stance, and both fists shot toward Zhen Miao like striking hammers.

Zhen Miao also used Arhat Fist. Faced with Meng Qi's fierce assault, he blocked it steadily. Unlike Zhende and Zhen He, he wasn't intimidated at all. In fact, after deflecting Meng Qi's fists, he immediately counterattacked, sending a simple, unadorned Black Tiger Steals the Heart toward Meng Qi's right chest.

Meng Qi's eyes widened. Suddenly, he lunged forward, letting Zhen Miao's fist hit him. At the same time, he swung both fists toward Zhen Miao's ears.

Zhen Miao, who had plenty of actual combat experience, suddenly sensed something was wrong. But Meng Qi had thrown himself at him, and he couldn't pull back in time. He could only add force to his punch, trying to drive Meng Qi back.

Thump! His right fist felt as if it had struck a thick bolt of cloth. The force scattered in all directions. By then, Meng Qi's fists were almost touching his temples.

"Ha!"

Zhen Miao let out a sudden shout. His ears flushed red, his temples bulged, and he leaned back slightly.

Smack!

Meng Qi's fists grazed his temples and struck him squarely on both cheeks, but it was as if they had hit a cushion of air, which absorbed most of the force.

Even so, Zhen Miao staggered backward, his steps unsteady. His cheeks were swollen, and his head was spinning.

"You've mastered the Iron Cloth Shirt!" Zhen Miao cried out, shocked and furious.

Meng Qi smiled faintly. "A family art. Did Senior Brother just use the strength of the Orifice Opening Realm?"

The Iron Cloth Shirt had already been exposed the night before, so there was no need to hide it. He simply attributed it all to his unknown family background.

In that exchange, Meng Qi had followed the strategy Zhang Yuanshan, Jiang Zhiwei, and the others had taught him. Though his martial skills were far inferior to Zhen Miao's, he had relied on his opponent's ignorance of his Iron Cloth Shirt and his suppressed strength. He had used speed against slowness, trading minor injuries for major ones, and forced Zhen Miao into a desperate position. Zhen Miao had no choice but to use his full strength to protect himself.

Zhen Miao's expression shifted several times. His voice cold, he said, "Back in line. Continue practicing Arhat Fist."

Meng Qi knew that Zhen Miao hadn't targeted him out of personal malice. He had merely disapproved of Meng Qi's irregular Arhat Fist. Meng Qi also knew that his style was wrong and needed to be corrected, bit by bit. Zhen Miao wasn't wrong. But after successfully beating him and seeing him come up short, Meng Qi couldn't hold back his delight. He was extraordinarily happy.

I really am such a petty person! Meng Qi silently judged himself.

After they resumed practicing, Meng Qi followed Zhende, Zhen He, and the others, working hard to correct his techniques. Seeing this, Zhen Miao's expression softened again.

Once they had finished practicing Arhat Fist and Shaolin Staff, Zhen Miao gave each of them a stern critique. At the end, he turned away and said, "Tomorrow, Zhending will spar with me again. I'll still suppress my strength to the Minor Qi Accumulation stage."

That's some fierce competitiveness... Meng Qi thought. He felt a faint tremor run through him as his fighting spirit rose.

I'll have to make time tonight to practice the Eight Steps of Divine Travel.

He didn't want to lose, either!

"Senior Brother Zhen Miao has always had things go his way. He's already practicing the Maha Finger, one of the Seventy-two Unique Skills. Naturally, he's proud. But today he was beaten by you, a junior brother who's only reached Minor Qi Accumulation. How could he swallow that?" Zhen Yong came over with a grin. "Junior Brother Zhending, I had no idea you were so amazing! You've really kept your skills hidden! You'll have to look after me from now on."

Meng Qi smiled. "I only won by catching him off guard. Tomorrow will probably be tough."

Unless he could master the Eight Steps of Divine Travel overnight and catch Zhen Miao off guard once more, but that wasn't likely.

Still, Meng Qi wasn't afraid. How often did one get the chance to spar with an expert? It was a precious asset. Maybe, in the next Reincarnation World, it would be the reason he managed to stay alive!

Meng Qi, Zhenhui, and Zhen Yong headed back to the Warrior Monk Institute. At the entrance, they ran straight into Xuan Chi.

A dazed, wooden-faced monk followed beside Xuan Chi, muttering to himself, "How do I break this move if it's used like this?"

Xuan Chi didn't introduce the absent-minded young monk beside him. He simply said to Meng Qi and Zhenhui, "After the evening meal, come to the Martial Arts Hall. I'll teach you the Shaolin Heart Method."

Meng Qi had heard from Xuan Xin that the Shaolin Heart Method was Shaolin Temple's basic internal art. It was pure and robust, and because its circulation route was simple and compatible with most unique skills and divine arts, one could switch directly to another internal art later. Among similar foundational methods, it ranked in the top ten.

So Meng Qi secretly decided that from now on, he would focus on the Shaolin Heart Method. He would only use the crude circulation route built into the Iron Cloth Shirt when activating it.

After watching Xuan Chi leave, Zhen Yong chuckled quietly. "See the Senior Brother beside Uncle-Master Xuan Chi? He's another teaching monk, Senior Brother Zhen Ben. He's a martial arts fanatic. There are all kinds of interesting stories about him..."

The three chatted as they ate dinner. Then Meng Qi and Zhenhui hurried to the Martial Arts Hall. With nothing else to do, Zhen Yong went along too, planning to find someone to spar with.