The Supernatural

Zhang Jian swept his gaze around. Though these estate guards were all remarkably skilled, his attention mainly settled on three figures.

He had once been unable to tell the strong from the weak among these estate guards, but now he could make out a few subtleties.

The same fierce-looking fist winds and leg strength seemed to carry distinct differences.

Yet Zhang Jian could only see those differences as flowers through mist.

This was an outsider watching an insider.

It must be the effect of that Fire Apricot. Truly worthy of an immortal treasure!

There was something peculiar in his gaze, and it alerted some of the estate guards. But once they realized it was Zhang Jian, they paid it no mind, relaxed, and continued their morning practice.

Zhang Jian was no outsider.

Had it been anyone else, they would never have been allowed to watch in secret.

To these men who lived by the sword's edge, rules were rules. They had to be upheld with blood and could not be bent. Only power could make such rules step aside.

Then a figure silently appeared before Zhang Jian.

Dressed in black and wearing a lotus crown, he had a sinister face. Yet when his gaze fell upon Zhang Jian, his expression softened slightly.

Zhang Jian happened to turn around and gave him a gentle smile.

There was laughter in his eyes.

"Uncle Yi, these masters all seem extraordinarily skilled, fierce as tigers and dragons. I'd like to learn a move or two from them. What do you think?"

At Zhang Jian's words, the other estate guards' movements visibly paused for a moment.

Zhang Yi glanced at everyone and frowned without speaking.

Zhang Jian was the Zhang family's literary star. At such a young age, he had already passed the provincial examination. In the future, he would surely follow the orthodox path of official advancement through the imperial court. Zhang Yi feared that martial training would divide Zhang Jian's attention. If it affected the Ministry of Rites metropolitan examination, the loss would outweigh the gain.

Besides, he had no authority to comment on the matter.

Zhang Jian saw Zhang Yi's hesitation at once and took the initiative to ease his concerns.

"Uncle Yi, you know that during this provincial examination, I practically crawled out of the examination compound. My body is too weak. Even if I become the parent-official of a region in the future, I fear it would be exceedingly inconvenient. I don't seek skills equal to those military men who have fought and killed for years, but I should at least have a healthy body and strive for a long life, shouldn't I?"

Zhang Jian's expression was earnest.

It was not as though he had never considered learning martial arts before, but his energy had indeed been limited, so he could only choose the best solution. Now, after eating the Fire Apricot, he felt brimming with energy and could try martial training.

Zhang Yi nodded slightly. "Then whose skills do you wish to learn?"

But Zhang Jian said, "I think Uncle Yi seems to possess martial skills as well. Why not let me take Uncle Yi as my master?"

This had long been Zhang Jian's intention.

Zhang Yi was surprised. He looked at Zhang Jian strangely. "Jian, why do you wish to take me as your master?"

Zhang Jian did not conceal his thoughts. "Because these masters seem to be rather afraid of Uncle Yi!"

They were all men who licked blood from blade edges. If the two sides were roughly equal, why would there be any fear? Only when the gap was vast would these estate guards reveal such expressions.

There was another reason as well. In Zhang Jian's eyes, he could more or less "see through" the vitality and spirit of the other estate guards, but Zhang Yi before him had always given him a feeling of being hazy and impossible to grasp.

A trace of a smile appeared on Zhang Yi's sinister face.

He looked Zhang Jian over from head to toe, then shook his head. "The threshold for entering the teachings I have learned is extremely high. Ordinary people cannot easily come into contact with them. It requires a special affinity!"

"A special affinity?"

Zhang Jian was somewhat stunned. He had never heard that practicing martial arts required any special affinity, but Zhang Yi did not seem to be brushing him off casually.

"Could it be aptitude?"

Curious, Zhang Jian said, "Uncle Yi, could you explain?"

Zhang Yi stroked his beard and smiled lightly. His originally sinister face seemed somewhat gentler as he looked at Zhang Jian. "Jian, do you understand the two paths martial artists may take?"

Zhang Jian nodded. "I've heard of them: body tempering and inner refinement!"

"Could it be that Uncle Yi practices the method of inner refinement?"

Zhang Jian's gaze shifted, and his expression turned solemn.

Though he had chosen the path of the imperial examinations and would become a civil official in the future, he still had some knowledge of martial arts.

He had even made careful inquiries about them.

When a transmigrator learned that martial arts existed in the world he inhabited, how could he suppress the restless stirrings in his heart?

Yet after weighing the pros and cons, he had still chosen study and the imperial examinations.

This had always been Zhang Jian's regret.

A person's energy was limited, after all. Zhang Jian understood the limits of an individual very clearly. He could only choose the path most likely to succeed. As a small-town exam grinder, studying and taking the imperial examinations was undoubtedly the easier route to success.

It also held the greatest value for the entire clan.

As for martial arts, in a short period of time, they could only provide a limited increase in an individual's combat ability. They could not bring the Zhang family more practical benefits, nor could they solidify his position as the Zhang family's eldest son.

The Zhang family actually had martial artists of its own. The fact that the Zhang family could recruit so many skilled men as estate guards already explained everything.

They did not lack one more man seasoned in slaughter.

Zhang Jian also knew that even if he trained in martial arts, he might not necessarily achieve anything remarkable.

Moreover, martial arts were not something in which one could easily stand out.

Train through the bitter cold of the deepest winter, train through the scorching heat of midsummer!

And one also needed a renowned master and resources. Both were scarce.

Zhang Jian had learned early on that martial artists were divided into body tempering and inner refinement.

The former forged the skin and membranes, hammered the sinews and bones, refined the organs, and cleansed the marrow.

The latter focused on cultivating inner qi.

He had investigated the strengths and weaknesses of both.

Body-tempering arts were easy to learn but difficult to master. Yet their benefits were obvious: the threshold was relatively low, and their practical combat ability was comparatively strong.

Experts in external refinement and body tempering could more easily develop combat effectiveness in a short time.

As for inner qi cultivation, in its early stages, inner qi mainly nourished one's internal organs, making it difficult to produce explosive power in any visible way.

But once cultivated to profound depths, it likewise possessed unimaginable power.

Yet such individuals were extremely rare.

Moreover, inner qi cultivation differed from external refinement and body tempering. It had greater requirements and demanded more comprehension.

In truth, it was logical thinking. Many inner qi cultivation methods contained too much terminology and too many hidden pitfalls. Cultivating recklessly could easily lead one to injure oneself before injuring another, dying young in the prime of life.

Zhang Jian guessed that what Zhang Yi spoke of might be a method of inner refinement.

After all, only condensing inner qi required aptitude.

Zhang Yi gave Zhang Jian a slightly surprised look. His eyes flickered, and he nodded.

"Inner refinement—it can be called that!"

"However, the affinity I speak of is even more special than that required for ordinary inner refinement. Have you thought this through? Martial training is like literary study; it is also an entirely new discipline, and far from simple. If you find it too taxing, you may give up at any time!"

Zhang Yi did not take it too seriously. He merely thought Zhang Jian wanted to practice martial arts on a passing whim.

After all, Zhang Jian was already this old. It was too late for him to begin martial training.

"Uncle Yi, I want to try!"

A glimmer shone in Zhang Jian's eyes, and light filled his gaze.

Passing the provincial examination had not excited him as much as this moment, because passing it had merely been what the family needed. Strengthening himself through martial arts was the deepest desire in his heart.

What was more, now that he knew immortals existed, Zhang Jian felt a curiosity and yearning for cultivation that arose from the depths of his soul.

"Then follow me!"

Yet when Zhang Jian entered Zhang Yi's study, he immediately stared blankly.

Zhang Yi's study was packed with countless diagrams, each covered in innumerable complex meridian patterns. It was as though he had entered the territory of some giant in a particular field...

Still had to do problems...