Zhao Yan stretched out his palm and slowly clenched it into a fist, his knuckles letting out several soft cracks.
"Bright Force is hard force, whole-body force. When a punch is thrown, the sinews and bones cry out together. Force rises from the ground, passes through the waist and hips, reaches the shoulders, and is delivered to the fist. The force of the entire body twists into a single strand and bursts forth with a bang—clean, sharp, and without holding anything back."
"It is like a fully drawn bow. Once the arrow leaves the string, the bowstring is still trembling."
As he spoke, he casually threw a punch.
"Crack!"
The wind of his fist exploded with a crisp report in midair, like the snap of a whip.
Several disciples standing nearby jumped in fright and took half a step back.
Zhao Yan withdrew his fist, his expression unchanged.
"What are the characteristics of Bright Force? Crispness, unity, cleanliness. When it strikes a person, the flesh hurts and the bones shake."
He continued, "Above Bright Force is Hidden Force."
"Hidden Force is not brute strength. It is that unceasing force flowing between sinews, bones, skin, and flesh. At this stage, Stake Training must reach great mastery. The stance becomes a seamless whole, qi and blood swell like a full tide, and though a punch may seem light, its force can penetrate into the five viscera and six bowels."
He raised a hand and lightly patted the wooden training dummy beside him.
"Smack." It was not heavy, merely like a casual pat.
Yet the wooden post, as thick as the mouth of a bowl, suddenly shuddered. The body of the post let out a dull "creak," clearly cracking from within.
"What are the characteristics of Hidden Force? Penetration, continuity, lingering force. When it strikes a person, the skin and flesh do not hurt, and the bones do not break, yet the five viscera and six bowels feel as though someone has clenched them in a fist. One cannot catch one's breath or summon any strength."
"Bright Force injures flesh; Hidden Force injures the organs."
The disciples looked at one another, and some unconsciously touched their own chests.
"After Hidden Force comes Force Transformation. Force Transformation is the highest realm of force. At this stage, Stake Training is complete, the qi mechanisms throughout the body circulate without obstruction, and force can be released and withdrawn at will. A single punch can be hard or soft, overt or hidden—all within a single thought."
He picked up a bowl of water and splashed it into the air.
At the instant the droplets scattered, he struck out with his palm.
There was no sound.
The droplets seemed to collide with an invisible wall and violently rolled backward, slapping onto the ground and gathering into a puddle.
"What are the characteristics of Force Transformation? Transformation, borrowing, doing as one pleases. When an opponent's force comes at you, you can dissolve it. When your own force strikes out, you can borrow the opponent's momentum. At this realm, the entire body is a seamless whole—everywhere is a fist."
The disciples stared, dumbstruck, scarcely daring to breathe.
Zhao Yan accepted the cloth Chen Wang handed him, wiped his hands, and returned to his usual tone.
"Bright Force, Hidden Force, and Force Transformation are the three great checkpoints of the martial path. Beyond that is not something you should concern yourselves with yet. If your Stake Training is not solid and your qi and blood are not full, thinking about such things is a castle in the air."
He swept his gaze over the disciples present and said blandly, "More than half of you have not even touched the threshold of Bright Force, so stop thinking about all that nonsense. Stand your stakes honestly. That is better than anything else."
The disciples all lowered their heads, not daring to make a sound.
Xu Qing was completely absorbed in listening.
Senior Brother Chen Wang had mentioned these things in bits and pieces before, but hearing them from their master's own mouth gave them an entirely different weight.
It was like scattered pearls on the ground suddenly being strung together—Stake Training, qi and blood, Bright Force, Hidden Force, Force Transformation, layer upon layer, all crystal clear.
As he was thinking, Zhao Yan's gaze suddenly swept over him.
It was only one glance.
Xu Qing felt as though an old tiger had fixed its eyes on him.
That gaze was not heavy, yet it was like two blades that dissected him from head to toe, leaving nothing even in the cracks of his bones hidden.
All the hair on his body stood on end at once. His back turned cold, as if someone had dumped a basin of icy water over him in the dead of winter.
Zhao Yan's gaze rested on him for only a breath—so briefly that the disciples beside him did not even notice.
Yet to Xu Qing, that breath felt as long as a lifetime.
Zhao Yan withdrew his gaze. There was no expression on his face as he continued teaching.
His voice remained unhurried, as though nothing had happened just now.
Xu Qing stood at the very back, his heart pounding like a drum.
He was not sure what his master had seen, but he knew his master's eyes were far too sharp. Nothing could be concealed from them.
After speaking for another quarter of an hour, Zhao Yan waved his hand. "That is all for today. Think it over properly. Do not just stand there without using your brains."
The disciples dispersed one after another.
With his hands behind his back, Zhao Yan walked unhurriedly toward the rear courtyard. After taking a few steps, he suddenly stopped and looked back.
His gaze landed on Xu Qing for only an instant before withdrawing again.
Then he left.
Xu Qing remained where he was, his palms drenched in sweat.
Could Master have known about him killing Liu San?
How was that possible?!
But that final glance from Master had been full of meaning. He had clearly seen something.
Xu Qing's heart hammered in his chest.
Would Master punish him? Would he drive him out of the martial academy?
He took a deep breath and forcibly calmed himself.
Master had said nothing and asked nothing. Perhaps he had merely looked at him once more. Maybe Xu Qing was overthinking it.
Once Master left, the training ground grew lively again, but Xu Qing felt that something was off about the atmosphere around him.
The senior brothers and junior brothers passing by looked at him differently. It was no longer envy and covetousness, but... mockery.
Wu Mingyuan and the others were looking at him as they had before—coldly, with undisguised disdain.
"Have you heard? News came from the inner courtyard. With Xu Qing's middling-low bone talent, Bright Force is as far as he will ever get. He will not even be able to touch the door to Hidden Force."
"Really? Then his current progress..."
"What is the use of progressing quickly? If his bone talent is poor, he will be stuck dead at Bright Force. It is like a well—no matter how well you dig, if there is no water beneath, digging deeper is still useless."
"Then is the academy not wasting meat and medicinal soup on him?"
"Feeding someone who will never reach Hidden Force that well is just throwing silver away for nothing."
Two senior brothers walked past Xu Qing without deliberately lowering their voices. They even spoke a little louder on purpose, clearly intending for him to hear every word.
Qin Liang came over from the side, patted Xu Qing on the shoulder, and said with a smile, "Junior Brother Xu, why did you only just return? You nearly missed Master's lecture on Stake Training."
He had heard the two men as well. The smile on his face faded slightly, but he soon smiled again and comforted him, "Ignore them. They cannot eat grapes, so they call them sour. If you are no good, they are even worse."
Xu Qing smiled. "I did not take it to heart."
He truly had not taken it to heart.
He knew that what he relied on in martial training was not bone talent, but his cheat destiny trait.
"That is good." Qin Liang leaned closer and lowered his voice. "You need not bother with Wu Mingyuan and those people again. They were warm toward you before because they thought you were talented and worth using. Now that they have heard you can only train to Bright Force, they turn their faces faster than pages. People like that are not worth befriending."
Xu Qing nodded without speaking.
Qin Liang continued, "Oh, right. Liang Hu is not coming anymore. He went home yesterday and did not return today. His three months are up. I heard he has given up training completely. He thinks he cannot make it, so he will not waste money for nothing."
Xu Qing's gaze shifted slightly.
Liang Hu—the small, thin figure who was honest and dull. He had spoken little and trained hard, yet after three months, he had still made no progress. He could not stand steadily in Stake Training, could not make the Five Elements Fist look right, and had not even touched the threshold of entry.
Xu Qing remembered the way he had squatted alone in a corner to eat, the way he had lowered his head and agreed whenever Zhou Wen and Xu Qing ordered him around, and the way he had sweated as he punched before the wooden dummy...
Leaving was for the best.
The martial academy was not a place where just anyone could remain. Leaving early meant peace of mind sooner and saved him from wasting silver.
He raised his head and saw a new face on the training ground.
It was a dark, skinny youth about his height, dressed in a half-new gray cloth outfit and awkwardly holding a Stake Training stance.
His legs were not bent enough, his waist sagged, and his whole body was crooked and unsteady.
Qin Liang glanced over. "Oh, a newcomer. His name is Sun Ping. He became a disciple yesterday. I think he is from your Blackwater Bay area. Do you know him?"
Xu Qing looked carefully.
The youth turned his face sideways, and his features looked somewhat familiar.
Xu Qing recognized him.
Sun Ping. He was the youth from the Sun family who had asked at the Fish Pens whether Rushing Thunder Martial Academy accepted disciples.
A few days ago, Sun Ping's father had struck it lucky and caught a treasure fish as well. After borrowing some money, he had sent him here to learn martial arts.
Xu Qing stood where he was and watched him hold the stance.
His posture was wrong. His knees were bent too shallowly, his waist sagged, his shoulders were raised, and his entire body looked as though he were being tortured.
But he did not stop. He gritted his teeth, the flesh on his face trembling, his calves shaking, yet he refused to fall.
Xu Qing suddenly remembered what he had looked like on his first day at the martial academy.
He had been just the same—understanding nothing, clumsy in every movement, standing on the training ground with a heart full of unease and anticipation.
After watching for several breaths, he turned and went back to his room to change into his training clothes. He stepped onto the Plum Blossom Stake and assumed his stance—sinking his shoulders and dropping his elbows, tucking his chest and drawing up his back, sinking qi into his dantian. It all flowed in one smooth motion, firm and steady.
Not far away came the sound of Sun Ping falling. With a "thud," his knee struck the ground, and he hissed in pain.
Xu Qing did not look back.
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