Three Years

Leaving the martial arts hall.

"Extra! Extra!"

He had barely reached the main road when several newsboys with cloth satchels came running over, waving newspapers and shouting at the top of their lungs.

"The National Government has issued an order! The dispute over banning martial arts has been settled!"

"A three-year pact! A battle on Mount Tai!"

Pedestrians on the street stopped in their tracks.

Some were martial artists dressed in short jackets, some were Hetero-Martialists with Western Battle Gear fitted to their arms, and many others were ordinary people drawn by the commotion. They gathered at the street corners, all talking at once.

"They're really making us wait another three years?"

"The National Government had no choice. The martial arts world has deep roots. If they banned it all at once, every region might rise up in rebellion."

The area was in an uproar.

Lu Zhen took out two copper coins and bought a newspaper from one of the newsboys.

He unfolded it. The front-page headline was printed in black and white, clear as day.

The National Government and the warlords who had been pressuring it, along with the Hetero-Martialist forces, had ultimately reached a compromise.

All parties had agreed on a deadline: three years.

Three years from now, the powers across the land would gather on Mount Tai for a debate.

If Traditional Martial Arts won, the ban would be abandoned for good.

If martial arts lost, Traditional Martial Arts would be banned outright. Every martial arts resource in the land would be poured into research on Hetero-Martial Serums and Western Battle Gear.

That wasn't all.

A supplementary condition was mentioned in the corner of the newspaper.

During the three-year grace period, the various "Spirit Cave Treasure Lands" that had until now been controlled and monopolized by Traditional Martial Arts forces would have to open some of their access to Hetero-Martialists and Western Battle Gear troops.

Lu Zhen studied the printed words, his brow furrowing slightly.

"Spirit Cave Treasure Lands..."

A flicker of doubt crossed his mind. What were those, exactly? He had never even heard of them. They were probably core resources accessible only to the top powers.

But leaving that aside.

Just looking at this agreement.

Anyone with eyes could tell at a glance that the treaty was entirely unfavorable to Traditional Martial Arts. It was as if they'd had a piece of flesh forcibly cut from them.

"Looks like Traditional Martial Arts really has fallen to an absolute disadvantage in this day and age."

Lu Zhen's expression was somewhat blank.

He folded the newspaper and tucked it into his robes.

Though he had the Panel to rely on, the path he followed was ultimately Traditional Martial Arts.

When the nest was overturned, how could the eggs remain intact?

"So there are only three years left..."

He could feel his heartbeat quicken a little.

Three years sounded like a long time, but for martial arts cultivation, it was over in the blink of an eye.

It seemed he would have to pick up the pace.

No matter who won the Mount Tai Debate three years from now, a martial tradition passed down for thousands of years could never be wiped out by a mere written decree.

To sever someone's inheritance was like murdering their parents.

"Perhaps, three years from now, what awaits us won't be a resolution, but true chaos across the land."

In a time of upheaval, no one could be relied upon.

Three years.

The stronger he was by then, the safer he would be.

Lu Zhen wasted no time. He went straight back to the Iron Arm Martial Arts Hall.

The courtyard remained gloomy, with only a handful of people training their strength.

Yan Tieqiao hadn't shown his face in some time.

Lu Zhen swept his gaze around and spotted Yan Shanshan sitting on the stone steps.

He walked over.

"Senior Sister Shanshan, I'd like to see Master. Sorry for the trouble, but could you let him know?" he said calmly.

Yan Shanshan looked up, her eyes strange.

Master had been furious these past few days and refused to see anyone. She couldn't understand what Lu Zhen wanted with him at a time like this.

But Lu Zhen was no longer the same as before.

At thirty, with a Late Force Refining Realm cultivation and astonishing strength, he was already a central figure in the Inner Courtyard's inner circle.

After a brief pause, she nodded.

"Wait here."

Yan Shanshan got up and went to the rear hall. Before long, she came back out and beckoned Lu Zhen over.

Lu Zhen crossed the main hall and turned into the quiet corridor of the rear courtyard.

Old weapon racks stood along either side, and the air carried the faint scent of liniment.

Beyond the corridor lay a small, square courtyard.

In its center, beneath an old pine tree, Yan Tieqiao sat on a stone stool.

After just a few days apart, he looked much more worn down.

His back was hunched, and the white at his temples seemed even more prominent, giving him an unmistakable air of age.

Hearing footsteps, Yan Tieqiao didn't look up.

"What do you want?" His voice was hoarse.

Lu Zhen stopped in front of him. He didn't beat around the bush.

"Master, I wanted to ask: once Coiling Dragon Stake reaches a level above Bright Force, does it stop being effective?"

As soon as he finished speaking,

Yan Tieqiao snapped his head up. A flash of unconcealed anger blazed in his cloudy old eyes.

"What?" he sneered.

"Have you decided this old man is useless? Have you started thinking about changing masters, too?!"

"Too ambitious for your own good! You haven't even touched the threshold of Bright Force. Is this really something you should be asking about now?!"

Lu Zhen said nothing.

Facing Yan Tieqiao's anger, he merely lowered his center of gravity a little and planted his feet firmly on the ground.

Boom!

In an instant, scorching, terrifying qi and blood erupted around him.

His steady breathing turned into the deep rumble of Tiger-Leopard Thunder Sound. A visible layer of white vapor rose from his skin.

It was moisture from the surrounding cold air, instantly vaporized by the searing heat of his body.

Force surged outward, and his blood qi blazed like a hardened shield.

Lu Zhen looked at Yan Tieqiao, who was frozen in place with a stunned expression, and spoke with the same sincerity as before.

"Master."

"I've already reached Bright Force."

Yan Tieqiao sat rigidly on the stone stool.

He stared blankly at the visible layer of white qi around Lu Zhen, and at the terrifying heat that seemed almost tangible.

There was no mistaking it.

This was Bright Force.

And it was Bright Force backed by exceptionally powerful qi and blood.

Yan Tieqiao's lips moved slightly. His cloudy old eyes filled with disbelief.

He had watched Lu Zhen rise step by step.

How long had it been?

From Mid Force Refining Realm to a breakthrough into the Late Force Refining Realm during a battle on the river.

And now, without any warning, he had crossed the threshold of Bright Force—a divide as vast as a heavenly chasm.

At thirty, his qi and blood should have already reached their peak. How could he have broken through so quickly?

"Good... good... good! Good, good!"

Yan Tieqiao sprang to his feet.

His hands instinctively braced against the stone table. He repeated the word "good" several times, his voice trembling.

The anger in his eyes was swept away in an instant by overwhelming joy.

The Iron Arm Martial Arts Hall had finally produced a true Bright Force Martial Master! And one in the prime of his life, only thirty years old!

But after the joy came—

The color slowly drained from Yan Tieqiao's face. He thought of Zhang Lei, who had just stormed off.

He thought of how he had poured every last resource into saving the martial hall's legacy, only to be repaid with betrayal.

He looked at Lu Zhen, who had drawn in his qi and blood and returned to calm.

"You reached Bright Force..." Yan Tieqiao said hoarsely. "Are you leaving too?"

His back hunched, as if he had aged ten years in a single instant.

He'd taught boxing for half his life. One by one, his disciples had grown strong enough to spread their wings, and their hearts had wandered.

He couldn't keep his people, and he couldn't protect the hall's foundations.

What a failure.

Lu Zhen looked at the dejected old man before him and shook his head gently.

"Master, please don't overthink it."

He didn't indulge Yan Tieqiao's self-pity. Instead, he looked past the courtyard wall to the sky outside.

"If this were a peaceful and prosperous age,"

"your disciple would stay here and care for you in your old age, see you through to the end, take up the Iron Arm Martial Arts Hall's banner, and build it up, step by step."

He turned his gaze back to Yan Tieqiao.

"But now,"

"the times are hard, the land is shattered. The various powers are as ravenous as wolves and tigers, and the people are destitute."

"Three years from now, there will be the Mount Tai Debate, and Traditional Martial Arts will face the threat of being banned."

"When the nest is overturned, how can the eggs remain intact?"

"In such a chaotic age, if we barricade ourselves in one corner, we'll end up unable to protect even this courtyard."

He stepped forward, cupped his hands, and bowed solemnly to Yan Tieqiao.

"Your disciple only wants to follow in the footsteps of my senior brothers from the past—to venture out and fight for that one chance at a higher martial arts destiny."

"Only by standing higher can I live more securely."

Lu Zhen lifted his head.

"But no matter how far I go, no matter which power I make my place among,"

"the Iron Arm Martial Arts Hall will always be my home."