Ever since acquiring One Proof Eternal Proof, Meng Chuan had been going all out every day.
He gulped down medicinal paste while alternating between fist techniques, footwork, and stake technique, training like his life depended on it. Even Luo Guanyun, who was always strict, couldn't help but marvel:
"Kid, you're really putting in the work!"
After practicing Pao Fist more than a dozen times, Meng Chuan stood on one of the round traffic bollards in the school parking lot and practiced Cun Step.
The bollards in this row had been polished until their top surfaces were very smooth. Meng Chuan took off his shoes and socks and stood barefoot on one.
It had rained a couple of days ago, and there was barely any dust on the surface to give him traction. Just standing steady was difficult enough, so Meng Chuan could only struggle through the Cun Step according to Teacher Luo's instructions.
Teacher Luo's words echoed in his ears:
"Keep your front foot from retreating as you step forward; push off with your rear foot and rise into the step. This move is used when your enemy presses you, leaving them no time to change their footing. You take this shortcut to catch them unprepared and seize the advantage. That's why it's called Cun Step."
"I'll practice Cun Step as much as I can over the next couple of days. Once I've mastered it, I'll be able to practice it while throwing Pao Fist. That'll double my efficiency—awesome!"
As Meng Chuan practiced his small, quick steps on the bollard, his homeroom teacher's voice came from behind him.
"Meng Chuan, get down first! The principal wants to see you!"
After pushing open the principal's office door, Meng Chuan deftly took a clean teacup from the cabinet behind the principal.
Then he sat in the chair across from the desk, poured himself a cup of hot tea, and drank it down with relish.
The principal was about to speak, but Meng Chuan beat him to it.
"Don't ask yet. I know what you want to say. There's still no news from Senior Bai, so don't rush."
Meng Chuan hadn't wanted to come in the first place. He knew the principal was asking about Guoyi Fist again.
But he'd gotten a little thirsty from training, so he'd come over for a cup of hot tea to soothe his throat.
The principal corrected him:
"That's not what this is about. But if you hear anything, make sure to tell me right away."
Then he topped up Meng Chuan's cup with hot water and continued:
"Have you checked your qi and blood recently? How are they?"
"The last time I checked, it was 2.11. My fist techniques and footwork have both improved recently, so I should be over 3 now."
"Good lad! Can you get into Yong'an Martial Arts University for sure? Give your uncle a straight answer!"
The principal's tea really was more fragrant. Meng Chuan gave him a reassurance:
"Absolutely!"
At Meng Chuan's current rate of improvement, Yong'an Martial Arts University was no longer his goal. He'd set his sights on Northern United University instead.
Northern United University, whose full name was Northern United Martial Arts University, was one of the nation's nine Special Grade Martial Dao Universities.
A towering bastion of the north that had been supported since the founding of Great Chu, it had immense teaching resources and a profound legacy. It also had branch schools all over the country. Yong'an's Li Mountain Branch School had only been established a few years ago.
What people admired most about Northern United University was its staggering rate of graduates becoming martial arts masters. It reached an astonishing ninety percent. You could say that getting into Northern United University meant you were already halfway to becoming a martial arts master.
Luo Guanyun had also graduated from Northern United University. He knew just how important a good Martial Dao university was to a martial practitioner's growth, and he fully supported Meng Chuan applying there in the future.
"Good. Then your uncle will pull a few strings for you!"
"But we need a pretext. The second of February is the end-of-term martial arts exam for the second-year students. You can take it too. As long as you place in the top fifty percent, you can attend Martial Dao classes with the second-years from then on. Having a teacher is better than practicing on your own."
That was great news. Traffic bollards were far from ideal for training. The second-years' Martial Arts Room had a proper Wooden Dummy Area for practicing footwork, and there were also dedicated Martial Dao teachers.
The school might not be able to hire a Martial Arts Master like Teacher Luo, but at the very least, it could get a skilled practitioner who'd passed the Upper Three Passes in qi and blood. That would be more than enough to teach him.
"Thank you, Principal. I'll give it everything I've got."
The principal smiled and gestured for Meng Chuan to leave.
Not long after Meng Chuan left, a blond teenager about his age came in.
If Meng Chuan had been there, he would have recognized him as the martial arts prodigy whom Le Ping, a student at Infinite Martial Arts Hall, had said was known alongside him as one of the two hidden dragons of Ping'an Middle School!
"You're here, Zong Ping."
"What's up, Second Uncle? You need something?"
Principal Zong slapped the desk and scolded him, "You forgot again? At school, you have to address me by my official title!"
Nobody at school knew that Zong Ping, the first-year martial arts prodigy, was actually the principal's nephew.
Ping'an Middle School was a decent school, but it was still a regular high school, not a specialized Martial Dao high school.
The principal had promised his elder brother that he would cover three years' worth of training resources for Zong Ping. Only then had his brother agreed to let Zong Ping attend Ping'an Middle School.
It was all part of his own record of achievements. The principal really did worry himself sick over it day after day.
Zong Ping replied listlessly:
"Understood, Principal."
Like Meng Chuan, Zong Ping sat down as soon as he came in, ready to pour himself some tea.
Then he noticed that, besides the principal's own teacup, there was another one on the desk that someone had already used.
"Oh? Someone just came by?"
"Yeah, but that's not important. I called you here to tell you something."
Then the principal repeated what he'd just told Meng Chuan.
"It's about time! No problem, Second Uncle. I'll go in there and crush the second-years with my mighty fists. Just watch."
"I told you to address me by my official title!"
"By the way, there's someone else in your first-year class who'll be taking the second-year end-of-term martial arts exam too."
Zong Ping immediately perked up:
"A first-year? Aren't they all a bunch of weaklings?"
"Don't underestimate him. In a way, his natural talent might be even greater than yours."
Zong Ping grew even more curious. He'd been born with above-average bones. Anyone with superior bones who outclassed him would have earned a guaranteed place in the preparatory class at a Special Grade Martial University like Northern United University.
So how could anyone at Ping'an High School possibly be more talented than him?
"All right, that's all. Go back and train. I don't have any good tea left to serve you, anyway."
The principal began shooing him away. These two boys were each more troublesome than the last. Being principal felt pointless; he couldn't even make people respect his authority.
"Fine, I'll get going, Principal Zong."
That night, Meng Chuan returned from Teacher Luo's home.
"Nice, my proficiency has gone up quite a bit again. Teacher Luo really delivers. Just three hours of training with her got me as much proficiency as a whole day of practicing at school."
After returning to his room, Meng Chuan ate a piece of medicinal paste. Once he'd digested it a little, he felt that his body had recovered quite a bit. He decided to reward himself with another hour or so of Sancai Stance, then take a shower and go to bed, bringing a perfect day to an end.
Afraid of disturbing Meng Chuan's training, Meng Yongzhi spoke to him through the door:
"Chuan'er, the bureau's reward came through. Let's go together first thing tomorrow morning."
Meng Chuan was practicing his stake technique with his upper body bare. The dry towel that had been hanging around his neck was already damp with sweat.
"All right, Uncle. I know. Tomorrow morning, help me—forget it, I'll call the principal myself and ask for half a day off."
"Fine. Don't stay up too late. Get some rest early."
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