Yang Family Martial Arts Hall, central courtyard training ground.
When Lin Yan stepped through the courtyard gate, he noticed several new faces on the training ground. They were all youths who had successfully completed Foundation Cultivation and had just been promoted to the central courtyard.
Ge Hui was still in charge of teaching everyone.
When he saw Lin Yan, Ge Hui's expression darkened.
He hadn't expected Lin Yan to be so lucky!
He had only just found people from the Black Tiger Gang to set Lin Yan up, and the next thing he knew, someone had wiped out the Black Tiger Gang.
Over the past two days, he had given up on finding more people to deal with Lin Yan.
Thinking it over with a clear head, Lin Yan wasn't worth two taels of silver.
But now, seeing Lin Yan carrying a token from the General Affairs Room and heading straight for the iron pot to scoop up Skin Refining Paste, Ge Hui's anger flared again.
The master forbade disciples from fighting among themselves, but he hadn't said they couldn't spar.
An hour later, Lin Yan headed for the iron pot.
Ge Hui's gaze swept over, and he was about to speak when Lin Yan took the initiative to roll up his sleeve, revealing a bronze-colored forearm.
The rebuke on Ge Hui's lips died in his throat.
He knew scolding Lin Yan wouldn't work. The man had a hide like a city wall.
Back when the martial arts hall had supplied secret medicine for free, Ge Hui had mocked and bullied him, yet Lin Yan had still dared to apply it without hesitation. All the more so now that he was paying for it himself.
My Mountain Splitting Fist has grown more proficient, so I absorb Skin Refining Paste more efficiently, too. Lin Yan had no time to bother with Ge Hui's thoughts as he silently calculated. It used to take two hours to absorb it all. Now I can do it in one. I can apply it four times a day. This tael of silver was well spent.
One tael of silver, with the effect of four.
The master's gratitude was limited by time, not by quantity.
The second time, the third, the fourth...
By the time the firewood beneath the iron pot had burned out, Lin Yan had just finished applying it for the fourth time.
Ge Hui stared at him, wondering if the man had secretly stashed some Skin Refining Paste away. Otherwise, how could he possibly absorb it so quickly?
Unfortunately, even after night fell, he couldn't catch Lin Yan doing anything wrong. He could only leave in a huff.
One day, two days, three days.
Lin Yan looked inward at the Martial Dao Tree in his mind. Its trunk was growing steadily. Soon—just a few more days, and it would be enough.
"Everyone, stop!"
Ge Hui's voice rang across the training ground.
Lin Yan was practicing his punches. His brows furrowed, but he still lowered his guard.
Ge Hui had been ordered by the master to teach them. Lin Yan could refuse unreasonable demands, but he couldn't ignore the rules—he couldn't give Ge Hui anything to use against him.
"Training can't just be dead repetition of punches. You need practical experience, too." Ge Hui surveyed the group. "Today, you'll spar in pairs to test your combat skills."
At his words, many disciples' eyes lit up.
Which of these youths who had joined the martial arts hall hadn't dreamed of taking on ten men at once and cutting a dashing figure?
But since joining, all they'd done was practice punches day after day. It was mind-numbingly dull.
At the thought of sparring, every one of them grew eager.
"None of you has completed even one round of Skin Polishing, so there's not much difference in your strength. I'll split you up at random. You're all fellow disciples, so go easy on each other."
"Wang Hai and Zhang Qiang, together."
"Zhang Ping'an and Li Kexiu, together."
Ge Hui assigned several pairs, then let his gaze fall on Lin Yan. His meaning was clear.
"Lin Yan and Qian Jun, together."
Me and Qian Jun?
Lin Yan glanced at the tall, broad-shouldered Qian Jun across from him. If he remembered correctly, Qian Jun had joined the martial arts hall four months before him, and he hadn't missed a single application of Skin Refining Paste. Even if he hadn't completed one round of Skin Polishing, he couldn't be far off.
This match was aimed at me.
Ge Hui must have spoken to Qian Jun in private.
He said to go easy, but fists and feet had no eyes. As long as no one was crippled, the martial arts hall wouldn't investigate. In the master's eyes, disciples who hadn't completed even one round of Skin Polishing weren't worth much attention. If they got hurt, they could only blame their own lack of skill.
Lin Yan saw it all clearly, but didn't refuse.
He wasn't far from completing one round of Skin Polishing himself, and Qian Jun really was a suitable opponent.
Soon, Wang Hai and Zhang Qiang took their places in the center of the training ground.
Watching them trade blows, Lin Yan shook his head slightly. Too stiff. Not a single move had any variation.
If it were him, he could take them down in two moves.
"Wang Hai, you didn't put the right force into that punch. Zhang Qiang, why didn't you shift your right foot and counter that move? The moves are dead, but people are alive..."
When the sparring ended, Ge Hui critiqued each disciple one by one. He seemed to be genuinely guiding his junior brothers.
That gesture won him quite a bit of goodwill.
After several pairs had sparred, Ge Hui's gaze sharpened. "Next, Qian Jun against Lin Yan."
"Junior Brother Lin, please."
Qian Jun stood there brazenly, not taking Lin Yan seriously at all.
He'd been at the martial arts hall for more than five months and was close to completing Skin Polishing. Lin Yan had only been there for a month. How could he possibly be a match?
That kid had dared to offend Senior Brother Ge. This was the perfect chance to vent Senior Brother Ge's anger for him.
"Senior Brother Qian."
Lin Yan didn't clasp his fists. Instead, he stepped forward, walked right up to Qian Jun, and casually extended his right hand.
Everyone was stunned.
When martial artists sparred, they either clasped their fists in greeting or got straight to it. What did holding out a hand mean?
Qian Jun was stunned, too. Looking at the hand extended in front of him, its knuckles clearly defined, he instinctively took it.
"Please teach me, Senior Brother Qian."
Lin Yan let go and stepped back to his place.
"What kind of etiquette is that?"
"It looks familiar, but I've never heard of it..."
Hearing the murmurs around him, Lin Yan smiled slightly. "It's called Hand-Clasping Etiquette. I saw it in an old book. Senior Brother Qian joined before me. Sparring with me is a way of guiding me, so I should clasp hands with him."
Everyone understood. The explanation seemed a little far-fetched, but no one paid it much mind.
In his mind, Lin Yan looked at the gray Martial Dao Tree, which stood a little shorter than his own. He finally felt at ease.
Qian Jun was far behind him in Skin Polishing progress. His qi and blood were weaker, and his Mountain Splitting Fist proficiency was even less comparable.
There was no way he could lose this fight.
Now he only had to consider whether to hold back.
Seeing Lin Yan return to his place and fall silent, Qian Jun barked, "Junior Brother Lin, take this!"
He sank into a horse stance and drove his right fist toward Lin Yan's face, the wind whistling around it.
The punch hadn't arrived, but the wind of it was already in Lin Yan's face.
The surrounding disciples cried out in alarm.
Lin Yan's expression didn't change.
In his eyes, the punch was riddled with flaws. In his pursuit of power, Qian Jun leaned too far forward, shifting his weight onto his left leg. His shoulder blade hadn't fully opened when he punched, and by the time the force reached his elbow, more than half of it had already dissipated.
Lin Yan didn't dodge or retreat. Only when the wind of the punch swept across his face did he turn his head slightly, in what looked like a narrow escape, letting the fist skim past his ear.
At the same time, his footwork shifted fluidly, slipping into the opening at Qian Jun's center.
No flashy moves—just "Open Door See Mountain," a move from the Mountain Splitting Fist. Lin Yan raised his right fist from his waist, dropped his shoulder and elbow, and struck along the shortest, straightest line.
His timing was impeccable.
Qian Jun had exhausted his momentum, and his balance was still unsettled.
Qian Jun's pupils contracted. He tried to block or dodge, but his body had stiffened from putting too much force into the punch. His movements were half a beat too slow, leaving him no choice but to twist awkwardly and brace the blow with his left arm.
Bang!
A muffled impact exploded.
A sharp, numbing ache shot through Qian Jun's left ribs. Half his body went weak, and he stumbled back five or six steps before landing hard on his backside.
He looked up at Lin Yan, his eyes filled with shock and disbelief.
The training ground fell silent.
Many disciples hadn't even seen what had happened. They had only seen Qian Jun charge in with a fierce punch that missed, Lin Yan step forward and throw a casual punch, and Qian Jun go down.
Lin Yan slowly lowered his fist, his breathing as steady as ever, as if he'd merely swatted a fly away.
He glanced at Qian Jun, slumped on the ground, then at Ge Hui, whose face had turned ashen. He clasped his fists and said calmly, "Senior Brother Qian, thank you for going easy on me."
The sneer on Ge Hui's face froze completely.
He couldn't understand how Lin Yan had defeated Qian Jun so easily. Even he couldn't have won so quickly without using the qi-and-blood advantage of having completed one round of Skin Polishing.
"Junior Brother Lin really is impressive. You've got even me itching for a spar. How about we trade a few moves?"
"Senior Brother Ge has already completed one round of Skin Polishing. How could I possibly be your match? I concede."
Lin Yan refused, humbly and without hesitation.
His fight with Zhou Wu had taught him that challenging someone above his level was too risky. He would never do it unless he had no choice.
Looking at Lin Yan's humble face, wearing an expression of I'm not fit to compare, Ge Hui wanted to smash his fist into it.
But he didn't dare.
If he really laid a hand on Lin Yan, the master would never let him off.
"The sparring's over. Get back to your training."
Suppressing his anger, Ge Hui walked away.
Lin Yan continued practicing his punches on the training ground, as if nothing had happened.
But this time, many pairs of eyes kept drifting toward him—curious, probing, taking his measure anew.
The two who had deliberately kept their distance from him before quietly drifted back.
Lin Yan smiled and greeted them, his manner unchanged.