Grueling Training

On the third day after returning to Qingyun County, someone from the Sun Family arrived.

A steward and two servants carried in a wooden chest.

Inside were one hundred taels of silver and two bottles of Qi Gathering Pills.

The steward said they were sent by Master Sun. Zhou Yan had saved the young lady's life, and this was a small token of appreciation.

Zhou Yan thanked him and did not refuse. Together with what he had received from the Qin Residence, he now had three hundred taels of cash silver and five bottles of Qi Gathering Pills.

The Sun Family's good reputation around town seemed well deserved. They knew how to repay kindness.

Enough!

For the next month or so, he did nothing but practice his fists.

He rose before dawn, held the Mountain-Settling Stance for the time it took two incense sticks to burn and warm up his body, then headed to the martial arts hall.

He waited at the entrance before the hall had even opened.

When Ding Yong opened the doors and saw him, he tapped his knee with the bamboo rod. Unfazed, he merely said, "You're here again," and let him in.

He practiced the Mountain-Suppressing Fist in the morning, stances in the afternoon, and secretly trained the Mountain-Breaking Fist at night after returning home.

At noon, he swallowed a Qi Gathering Pill, rested for the time it took one incense stick to burn, then continued. He was also the last to leave at night; Ding Yong would still find him in the courtyard when locking up.

Even after returning to the tea stall, he did not rest. He held the Mountain-Settling Stance for another two hours, stopping only when his legs trembled from soreness. Then he took a cold rinse and collapsed into bed.

The next day was the same.

After training like this for over ten days, the numbers in his vision began to rise.

[Mountain-Settling Stance: Perfection 158/500]

The Mountain-Breaking Fist was also improving.

[Mountain-Breaking Fist: Perfection 147/500]

The Perfection Stage was different from the Great Mastery stage.

There was no issue with the Mountain-Breaking Fist. The more he practiced it, the smoother it became.

But Zhou Yan discovered something wrong with the Mountain-Suppressing Fist!

After reaching Great Mastery, he had practiced it for half a month. Not only was the progress slow, but it also felt increasingly awkward.

The qi in his dantian would cut off upon reaching his ribs, and everything after that had to be forced along.

The first half of the form carried tremendous momentum, but the second half became emptier and weaker with every strike.

He broke the movements down and examined them. There was nothing wrong with the forms; he could run through them smoothly even with his eyes closed.

The problem lay in the exertion of force. At several joint transitions, things snagged and stumbled, as though something was missing to bridge the movements.

It was like the force generated from his waist and hips lost some of its power before reaching his shoulders and elbows. By the time it struck, it was down by twenty percent.

The difference became obvious when compared with the Mountain-Breaking Fist.

The Mountain-Breaking Fist carried its force through in one unbroken flow. With the Mountain-Suppressing Fist, he had no idea where that burst of force between his waist, hips, shoulders, and elbows went.

Zhou Yan began to wonder.

Either there was an inherent flaw in the Mountain-Suppressing Fist, or the martial arts hall was holding something back and had not taught the complete version.

That afternoon, Zhou Yan was practicing the Mountain-Breaking Fist before a sandbag when a muffled thud sounded nearby.

Zhao Dachuan from Class C had disrupted his qi while holding a stance. He toppled to the ground, his face turning purple from strain.

Two apprentices carried him beneath the corridor. Instructor Ding pried open his mouth, poured in some water, and struck his back twice. Only after he expelled a mouthful of stale qi did he recover.

Zhou Yan glanced over as he passed by.

Zhao Dachuan lay half-reclined beneath the corridor, gasping for breath. Seeing Zhou Yan approach, he forced out a pained smile. "Senior Brother Zhou... my qi went astray."

Zhou Yan nodded and returned to Class B to continue training.

Before long, someone else came over.

It was Sun Zhiyuan, a distant Sun Family relative. Sixteen or seventeen years old and at Lesser Qi Gathering, he wore a smile for everyone he met.

The boy had transferred to the martial arts hall only a few days ago. Before that, he had been rather ostentatious, relying on his slight connection to the Sun Family.

Only after Instructor Ding smacked him with the bamboo rod several times did he behave himself.

"Senior Brother Zhou, have some water." He set a bowl of cold tea on the stone platform beside the sandbag.

Zhou Yan looked at him, then accepted it. "Thanks."

Sun Zhiyuan grinned, tactfully withdrew to one side, and began practicing his stance.

By now, Zhou Yan had become something of a notable figure at the martial arts hall.

Although few students from Class C advanced to Class B, there were always some.

But someone like him, who had entered Class B less than a year after joining the martial arts hall, was exceedingly rare.

Not to mention that he had reached Great Mastery in the Mountain-Suppressing Fist. Other than the four in Class A, he was the only one in the entire hall.

By the time he finished training, it was dark.

Several Class B apprentices gathered at the entrance to catch their breath, some squatting and some sitting.

"Did you hear? That kid from Heavenly Peak Martial Arts Hall became a Martial Adept."

"When did that happen?"

"Last month. In less than two years, he went from knowing nothing to becoming a Martial Adept."

"Then didn't Senior Brother Han get surpassed?"

"Surpassed? He got completely crushed. Senior Brother Han has low-grade first-class talent and only broke through after four years of martial training. That guy became a Martial Adept in two years."

"The hall master's face has been dark lately."

"How could it not be? Senior Brother Han is the hall master's personal disciple. He had been counting on him to take first place in next year's Martial Examination. But now Heavenly Peak Martial Arts Hall has produced such a young Martial Adept and overtaken us from behind. Once the County Examination begins, all the attention will be on them. How is our martial arts hall supposed to recruit students afterward?"

The speaker was a dark-skinned, square-faced man named Liu Tiehe. He was at Lesser Qi Gathering and had been in Class B for nearly two years.

He was a chatterbox with well-connected sources. He knew more about the movements of the city's martial arts halls than even the instructors did.

"The four in Class A have gone mad lately too." Liu Tiehe spat on the ground. "The last time I passed the entrance, I heard fists cutting through the air inside from dawn till dark. Senior Brother Han is even worse—three training sessions a day, with the hall master personally watching over him."

"What are you worrying about Class A for?" Sun Zhiyuan squatted nearby with his chin on his knees. "You can't even get through the rear courtyard gate."

Liu Tiehe glared at him but said nothing.

He truly had no way to refute that.

Class A was in the rear courtyard, and its gate was usually shut tight. No one else could enter.

Back when he had just advanced to Class B, he had refused to believe it and secretly peeked inside once.

He had only pushed the gate open a crack when a palm strike shot out from within. He spent three days lying outside the gate.

Later, he learned that Shen Qingshan had struck him. People said Shen Qingshan had the best temper among the Class A students.

"All four of them are Martial Adepts." Liu Tiehe counted on his fingers. "Han Zongyuan, Shen Qingshan, Gu Changsong, and Feng Jiping. The hall master trains them personally. They're the only ones from our martial arts hall who can contend with the others."

Someone added, "Didn't Shen Qingshan also break through recently?"

"Right, it was the month before last. Gu Changsong and Feng Jiping are still just short of it. But the hall master is placing all his bets on Senior Brother Han now, pouring pills into him like water."

After chatting for a while, the sky turned completely dark, and everyone went home.

Zhou Yan returned to the tea stall and shut the door.

The three hundred taels of silver were beneath his bed, while the remaining three bottles of Qi Gathering Pills sat on the table.

The dark gray cloth outfit in the corner was folded neatly. He had not worn it since bringing it back from Qinghe City.

He poured himself a bowl of cold water and gulped it down.

The matter of the Mountain-Suppressing Fist still churned in his mind.

After Great Mastery, its progress had stalled, and the flow of force kept catching in the middle.

Either the fist art itself was flawed, or the martial arts hall had held something back and taught an incomplete version.

No matter which it was, he would not get far if he continued training this way.

The Mountain-Breaking Fist was different.

Its foundation was solid. Even after reaching Perfection, it continued improving, and every punch revealed something new.

The thin booklet he had found on Zhao Mo contained the complete method of the Mountain-Breaking Fist.

Forget it.

He would set aside the Mountain-Suppressing Fist for now. His focus still needed to remain on the Mountain-Breaking Fist.