"I just learned Xingyi Stake Technique. I've practiced for a day, but I still haven't gotten the hang of it."
Meng Yongzhi reassured him:
"Stake Technique takes patient effort. It's easy to get started, but hard to master. When I first practiced it, I think it only took me half a month to get the hang of it."
"Chuan, your natural talent is better than mine. If you put the same effort into Stake Technique as you did into Guoyi Fist, I'm sure you'll get the hang of it in no time."
Meng Yongzhi had been stuck at the Third Qi-Blood Pass for more than a decade. Ever since he'd joined the police force and started working, he'd barely practiced martial arts.
The Fourth Dao Blood Qi Barrier required a fighter to shift their punch force between obvious and hidden. It was the first small threshold on the path of martial arts. Anyone without at least superior natural talent had to grind away for years, mastering Dark Jin before they could break through.
So the Martial Dao had become a regret for Meng Yongzhi, too.
He often wondered: if he'd devoted himself to martial arts, practicing without pause, what would his life look like now?
Maybe it wouldn't be as good as it was now.
He had inferior natural talent. Even if he made it to the Sixth Qi-Blood Pass, he'd still be less useful than the navy-blue uniform hanging on the coat rack.
His younger brother had died young. Though Meng Chuan was his nephew, Meng Yongzhi had raised him from childhood and had long regarded him as his own son.
Earlier, he'd told his wife, Xue Na, that Meng Chuan could become a martial artist just to placate her. If everyone could become a martial artist, wouldn't they be as common as cabbages on the street?
He'd only wanted to give Meng Chuan more help on the path of the Martial Dao. He hadn't truly expected him to become a martial artist.
But who knew? The boy was hardworking, and his natural talent was a little better than Meng Yongzhi's. He imagined that perhaps Meng Chuan really could fulfill his dream for him.
"First year of high school isn't too late. This time, the two of us will give it everything we've got." Meng Yongzhi swore to himself.
Meng Chuan returned to his room, glanced at the latest newspaper, then continued practicing his stance.
"Warm congratulations on the successful conclusion of the 26th River Gathering! Congratulations to Principal Sui Chunqiu, [Martial Mourning Peak] of Northern United Martial Arts University, on claiming the championship!"
Sui Chunqiu, a Six-Limit Heavenly King-level powerhouse.
He was a pillar of Great Chu, even of the entire world, and Meng Chuan's idol.
Whenever he'd struggled to keep practicing his fists as a child, he'd either thought of his past life or looked to his idol, Heavenly King Sui, for comfort.
On the path of the Martial Dao, set aside talent and natural gifts: it all came down to one word—compete.
There were only higher and lower ranks. You carved out a path with your fists. If you had what it took, you climbed; if you didn't, you gave up your resources to someone else.
The Tianshan Martial Assembly, the Yellow River Gathering, the World's Number One Martial Arts Tournament, and all the other competitions were places where powerhouses fought their way to the top, with only the best rising above the rest.
What kind of hero spent his days dreaming big in some backwater valley? If you had the guts, come out and compete. See who could become the blazing sun in the vast sky!
Meng Chuan secretly resolved that one day he, too, would enter those competitions, meet the heroes of every corner, and contend with heaven itself.
His blood surged at the thought, and he hurried to practice his stance.
With his thoughts flowing freely and his mind moving as one with his body, every muscle in Meng Chuan's body began to align with the Sancai Stance.
His posture straightened, his body relaxed, and his mind turned inward. Gradually, Meng Chuan found the feel of it. He was close to getting the Sancai Stance down...
Early the next morning, Meng Yongzhi got up early on his day off for once.
"Uncle, are you on duty today? Why are you up so early?"
Meng Chuan changed his shoes by the door, ready to head to the martial arts hall to practice. There were still a few details about his stance that he needed Instructor Liu Ru to help adjust.
"I'm not on duty. Come on, I'll go to the martial arts hall with you. I happen to have something to discuss with Master Luo."
Meng Yongzhi had spent all night thinking it over. He'd decided he couldn't let Meng Chuan waste any more time on Guoyi Fist.
He would go speak to the master himself and insist that Meng Chuan be set straight.
In Great Chu today, the path to learning martial arts ran through a martial arts university.
The teachers, classmates, and martial arts resources at a Martial Academy were among a practitioner's most valuable assets.
Blood qi was the foundation for getting into a good martial arts university.
On Li Mountain outside Yong'an, Northern United Martial University had secured one of the nation's nine Special Grade Martial University spots. Its admission requirements listed the Fifth Qi-Blood Pass as merely the minimum.
Meng Yongzhi didn't expect Meng Chuan to get into a Special Grade Martial University. He'd be over the moon if Meng Chuan could get into the local Yong'an Martial Arts University.
But Yong'an Martial Arts University required at least the Third Qi-Blood Pass. Practicing Guoyi Fist alone for an entire lifetime wouldn't get him there.
So Meng Yongzhi had to remind the master to make Meng Chuan learn other fighting styles, even if he had to force him. Practicing Stake Technique alone wouldn't work either, because martial arts techniques could boost blood qi far more than Stake Technique.
To reach the Third Qi-Blood Pass before the high school martial arts exam, Meng Chuan would have to start learning other fighting styles now, given his natural talent.
Time was short, and there was much to do. Meng Chuan had already wasted a lot of time on Wawa Fist.
As Meng Yongzhi changed his shoes, a thought suddenly struck him:
"Chuan, did you measure your blood qi yesterday? Had you reached the First Qi-Blood Pass?"
"I was busy practicing my stance yesterday and forgot. I'll measure it today when I get there."
At Infinite Martial Arts Hall in Greenland Plaza.
Once they arrived at the martial arts hall, his uncle left Meng Chuan and went straight to find the master.
Meng Chuan looked around but couldn't find Wang Yue. He called him, but his phone was switched off.
That guy had probably turned off his phone so Meng Chuan couldn't bother him while he slept in.
He couldn't miss breakfast at the martial arts hall cafeteria today. After checking in, he went straight to the dining hall and dug in. One thousand yuan a day—it was his money, after all. He might as well eat his fill.
A few trainees he'd seen yesterday greeted Meng Chuan cheerfully. His hard work the day before had left an impression on them.
"Hey, you're new here?"
Seeing how heartily Meng Chuan was eating, a tall, burly teenager sat down with his tray.
"I'm Le Ping, a third-year at Aizhi Martial Arts High School. I'm at the Third Qi-Blood Pass. You sure eat like a champ. Mind if we get acquainted?"
"Meng Chuan. Yesterday was my first day here. I'm a first-year at Ping'an High School. I don't think I've passed the first threshold yet. I'll get tested in a bit."
Le Ping ate as he spoke from across the table:
"From Ping'an? Your first-year class is full of legendary figures. I heard there's a freak who's already at the Third Qi-Blood Pass, but he refused to attend Yong'an Martial Arts University's preparatory program and insisted on going to your school.
"And there's also some... what was it... a Grandmaster of Doll Fist?"
Meng Chuan could only reply:
"..."
Le Ping was the friendly sort:
"Come on, I'll take you to get tested in a bit. I'd reached the First Qi-Blood Pass back in ninth grade. Judging by how much you can put away, I bet you've got the strength to reach the first pass too."
After their meal, they went to the blood qi testing room. Le Ping helped Meng Chuan put on the blood qi sensor, then pressed the button on the main console. Three long beeps rang out: "Beep, beep, beep."
"All right. Just demonstrate your fighting style against the wall. The sensor will collect your blood qi data as you move and send it to the console. Once you've finished a set, just stop."
Meng Chuan settled himself, raised his hands, and began practicing Guoyi Fist. Le Ping leaned close to the console screen, keeping his eyes on Meng Chuan's data.
The display was a tall bar, like a bamboo stalk, divided into sections. Before Meng Chuan had finished his routine, Le Ping saw the bottommost red section fill almost to the brim.
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