Fist Intent Takes Shape

In the blink of an eye, the day of the assessment arrived.

On the Martial Practice Field.

All the new disciples had gathered, their palms sweating and nerves frayed to the breaking point.

On the high platform, not only was Instructor Wu present, but Master Pei, who performed the bone-touching examinations, had also arrived. He sat in a grand armchair, cradling a cup of hot tea, his gaze sweeping over the crowd below.

Instructor Wu walked forward two steps with his hands behind his back.

"Half a month has passed; the assessment is today."

"I will state the rules only once: those who can demonstrate the first three forms of the Thunderbolt Fist will stay."

"Those who cannot, strip off your True Disciple robes yourselves and report to the Servant Courtyard."

As he said this, his eyes locked onto Li Pingsheng in the corner.

The implication was clear.

You, pack your bags and get out today.

"Begin."

Instructor Wu waved his hand, and the first disciple walked trembling to the center of the field, setting his stance to perform the Thunderbolt Fist.

His movements were stiff, his strength lacked flow, and the entire set was performed limply, devoid of any power—let alone the sound of thunder.

"Next."

The disciple's face turned pale as he retreated.

The next few were much the same; it was considered an achievement just to remember the moves. Each of them performed with such lack of vigor that Master Pei Guang on the high platform furrowed his brows into a knot.

The Thunderbolt Fist was the foundational martial art of the Azure Cloud Martial Hall, emphasizing ferocity and dominance, with the circulation of blood and qi meant to sound like rolling thunder.

These new disciples hadn't even grasped the basics.

"Next, Zhao Ming!"

As soon as Instructor Wu called out, Zhao Ming stepped forward with his head held high.

He bowed respectfully to Master Pei Guang and Instructor Wu on the high platform, then sank into a horse stance.

"Hah!"

Thunder on Flat Ground!

Lightning Flash and Thunder Roll!

Thunder Moves Through the Nine Heavens!

He unleashed the first three forms of the Thunderbolt Fist in one breath.

The wind from his fists whistled, actually producing a faint sound of breaking air.

Although it was still far from the true ideal of "fists striking like thunder," among this group of new disciples, he was in a league of his own!

"Good!"

"Brother Zhao is amazing!"

The field erupted in cheers. The disciples still waiting in line looked on with eyes full of awe and admiration.

On the high platform, Instructor Wu stroked his beard, unable to hide the smile on his face as he nodded repeatedly.

Even Pei Guang, who had kept a stern face the entire time, rarely set down his cup and gave a nod.

"Not bad, you have the right idea."

Having received Pei Guang's affirmation, Zhao Ming grew even more smug; his arrogance was practically written all over his face.

He finished his set and turned to walk away, deliberately pausing as he passed by Li Pingsheng.

In a voice only the two of them could hear, he hissed:

"Trash, did you see that? Get out now, and you might still save some face."

Li Pingsheng acted as if he hadn't heard a thing.

This direct dismissal infuriated Zhao Ming more than a verbal retort would have.

"Last one, Li Pingsheng."

It was finally his turn.

Swish!

Mockery, contempt, and the gazes of those waiting to watch the spectacle all converged on him.

Everyone craned their necks, waiting to see how this "superior bone structure" built on medicine jars would embarrass himself in front of everyone.

Zhao Ming folded his arms, a smirk still hanging on his lips.

Instructor Wu even opened his mouth, ready with a string of insults, waiting for Li Pingsheng to perform that laughable "chicken-chasing fist" so he could immediately kick him out of the martial hall.

With everyone watching, Li Pingsheng walked slowly to the center of the field.

He didn't roar like Zhao Ming, nor did he make any unnecessary movements.

It was that simple: sink the waist, settle into a horse stance.

A starting posture.

With just this simple starting posture, the atmosphere in the arena suddenly changed.

If Li Pingsheng had been an unremarkable stone in everyone's eyes before.

Then now, this stone revealed a sharp, blade-like edge.

A heavy, sharp, and latent momentum surged from his body.

The murmurs from the sidelines faded away before anyone realized it.

The smile on Zhao Ming's face stiffened.

The scolding words Instructor Wu had prepared became strangely stuck in his throat.

This is...

Before anyone could react, Li Pingsheng dispensed with any unnecessary flourishes.

He twisted his waist, thrust his hips, and threw a punch.

The first form, Thunder on Flat Ground!

Whoosh!

This punch didn't have as much fanfare as Zhao Ming's, but as the fist passed, there was a muffled "bang" in the air!

It wasn't just wind from the punch; it was an air explosion!

All the force was concentrated in the fist, not a single bit wasted!

Following that, he pivoted, his footwork agile, and the second form, Lightning Flash and Thunder Roll, was unleashed.

His fists struck out in rapid succession, terrifyingly fast, creating a series of "crackling" sounds in the air, as if lightning were truly flashing.

The third form, Thunder Moves Through the Nine Heavens!

Li Pingsheng stomped his foot violently, causing the stone slab beneath him to "thud." All the strength in his body was driven to its peak, flowing up his spine, through his arm, and finally crashing out in a single punch!

Boom!

Three forms executed in succession, without a single flaw to be found!

The movements were standard, the force application precise, and the momentum fierce—more than ten times stronger than Zhao Ming!

What Zhao Ming performed was merely the appearance.

But what Li Pingsheng unleashed was the intent!

It was the true essence of the Thunderbolt Fist: reckless, unyielding, and capable of smashing everything to pieces!

The entire Martial Practice Field was deathly silent.

Is... is this the trash who was still chasing chickens after half a month of training?

Was this punch... really thrown by him??

Zhao Ming stared fixedly at Li Pingsheng, his eyes filled with incomprehensible shock and humiliation. (Can't hold it together.jpg)

How is this possible!

This is impossible!

On the high platform, Instructor Wu's mouth remained agape, still poised to scold.

His eyeballs were nearly popping out, and a "gurgling" sound came from his throat; he couldn't utter a single word.

What had he just seen?

A piece of trash he thought was finished had executed the three forms of the Thunderbolt Fist perfectly—a feat even he might not be able to achieve!

Crack!

A crisp sound rang out.

It was Pei Guang.

The calm on his face had vanished, replaced entirely by shock and wild joy.

"Fist... Fist Intent has taken shape?!"

Fist Intent!

That was a realm one could only hope to touch after mastering a fist technique to its peak and grasping its true essence!

In the entire Azure Cloud Martial Hall, those who could manifest the Fist Intent of the Thunderbolt Fist could be counted on one hand!

They were all old fogies who had practiced for decades!

Instructor Wu swayed, nearly losing his footing.

Fist Intent... he had practiced the Thunderbolt Fist for over ten years and hadn't even brushed against the edge of Fist Intent!

"No! I don't believe it! He cheated!!"

Zhao Ming roared like a madman, jolting everyone back to their senses.

He pointed at Li Pingsheng and shrieked, "He must have used some dirty tricks! I don't accept this!"

"Instructor Wu, Master Pei! I demand to fight him right now!"

To be pinned to the ground and humiliated by a piece of trash he looked down upon, using the very skill he prided himself on—this indignity drove him completely insane.

"Shut up!"

Pei Guang's shout made Zhao Ming tremble.

"This is the testing grounds! Look at you, making such a racket! What kind of behavior is this?"

"If you lack the skill, you look for trouble instead? Is this the upbringing of the Zhao Family?"

Zhao Ming was scolded into silence, not daring to utter another word.

Pei Guang let out a cold snort, ignoring him to look at Li Pingsheng instead.

"Li Pingsheng, you are very good."

"As for a fight, there is no rush. The Martial Hall Grand Exam is approaching; you will have plenty of time to spar then."

These words were meant to appease, but they also set the rules.

Li Pingsheng retracted his fists, turned around, and swept a cold glance at Zhao Ming without saying a single word.

But in his heart, he made a mental note.

The day of the Grand Exam, is it...

I hope your bones are harder than your mouth.

With that thought, he walked out of the Martial Practice Field.

On this day, Li Pingsheng stunned the entire crowd with three punches!