Sparring

In the courtyard, only Guan Peng and Zhuang Xiaotian were watching. Once Chen Ming and Deng Ziyang engaged, they stared intently, afraid to miss a single detail.

They had seen Deng Ziyang demonstrate his swordsmanship before—light and ethereal, swift beyond compare—and thought it quite formidable.

Now, when actually used against an opponent, it fell short of expectations.

It had plenty of lightness, but lacked force.

Though fast, it couldn't inflict damage.

Guan Peng saw through the flaw in Deng Ziyang's swordsmanship after just a short while and thought to himself: I thought Eldest Brother's swordplay was impressive, but it turns out it's all show and no substance.

Zhuang Xiaotian felt much the same.

As for Deng Ziyang himself, he was utterly miserable, feeling as though he had strength but nowhere to use it, a sense of defeat welling up inside him.

After thirty-odd exchanges, his sword momentum began to scatter. He suddenly stopped, let out a turbid breath, and said with a bitter smile, "Brother, your blade technique is exquisite. I am no match."

You have defeated a Level 10 enemy. Gained 50 experience points.

Chen Ming cupped his hands and said, "Brother Deng's swordsmanship is also quite refined. It's just that you lack experience in actual combat, which is why I was able to suppress you."

Deng Ziyang assumed he was just saying polite words, and felt even more bitter inside. He had practiced this sword art for so many years, believing his strength was considerable, yet he couldn't even beat Chen Ming, who had just broken through.

This battle nearly shattered his confidence.

He suddenly understood how Guan Peng had felt yesterday. That intense sense of shame made him want to flee the place immediately and hide somewhere no one could find him.

Still, he held himself back.

The second match was Zhuang Xiaotian against Chen Ming.

He proposed, "Brother Chen, I'm not skilled with blades or swords. How about we compete in fist and foot techniques?"

Chen Ming had no objection and agreed.

So the two began sparring with fists and feet in the courtyard.

Deng Ziyang often watched Chen Ming practice with his men and was used to seeing his "Three Powers Fist," so he didn't think much of it.

But now, as Chen Ming fought Zhuang Xiaotian, he was just as effortlessly in control as usual.

His demeanor was exactly the same as when he sparred with Qi Jun and the others.

"He's going easy on Third Brother!"

Deng Ziyang suddenly realized this, and a storm of shock surged within him.

This wasn't a spar at all—it was practically feeding moves to Zhuang Xiaotian!

"Was he feeding me moves too, just now?"

No!

Impossible!

He had only just broken through to Ninth Rank—how could that be?

Deng Ziyang didn't want to think about it any further.

After dozens of exchanges, Chen Ming won by a narrow margin.

Zhuang Xiaotian conceded with respect, "Brother Chen's fist technique is exquisite. I am in awe."

The third match was Guan Peng's turn.

Though he had suffered a crushing defeat at Chen Ming's blade just yesterday, his fighting spirit was still strong. With the lesson from yesterday, he was confident he wouldn't lose so easily this time.

"Please."

Chen Ming made a gesture inviting him to begin.

Guan Peng immediately launched his attack, his mind entirely focused on how to defeat his opponent.

As the two clashed, Deng Ziyang and Zhuang Xiaotian, watching from the side, could clearly sense the change in him—his blade momentum had become sharper.

They were astonished. In just one day, Guan Peng had made such obvious progress?

Even so, Chen Ming handled it with ease.

Deng Ziyang watched closely for a while and began to notice something—Chen Ming really did seem to be feeding Guan Peng moves. The way they fought was almost identical to yesterday.

In the end, as expected, after dozens of exchanges, Chen Ming won by a narrow margin once more.

He looked at Guan Peng and said with a straight face, "Brother Guan's improvement is truly remarkable. I only barely managed to win." For a moment, his heart was a mix of emotions.

You have defeated a Level 11 enemy again. Gained 50 experience points.

Chen Ming saw this notification and felt joy inside.

Even an enemy one level higher gave 50 points on the second defeat.

He noticed the three of them with their heads down, the atmosphere heavy and low. His heart stirred, realizing they were feeling disheartened after losing to him.

They were all hot-blooded young men in their prime, eager to prove themselves, and losing like this was a serious blow to their pride.

This isn't good.

Chen Ming thought to himself that if things went on like this, after a few more losses, they probably wouldn't want to spar with him anymore. He'd beaten all their confidence out of them.

I need to think of something...

Got it!

Chen Ming spoke up. "You guys haven't sparred with each other before, right? Why not take this chance to have a go?"

The suggestion made all three of them stir, exchanging glances with one another.

"Right, I can't beat Chen Ming, but can't I beat those two?" The same thought flashed through each of their minds almost simultaneously.

Watching from the sidelines earlier, they'd all felt the other two weren't that impressive, with glaring weaknesses. They could win easily.

Perfect—they could regain some confidence on them.

"Alright!"

"Good idea."

"Just what I was thinking."

The three agreed in unison.

After some polite deferrals, Deng Ziyang went first against Guan Peng.

Both were brimming with confidence, but the moment they clashed, they suddenly realized things weren't as they'd imagined.

"How can his blade be this fast?"

Deng Ziyang was shocked. Guan Peng's blade looked heavy, but its speed wasn't slow either—though not as fast as his own sword, it was far from clumsy.

It put immense pressure on him.

Nothing like the sluggish, awkward performance he'd seen from the sidelines.

"How is his swordsmanship so sharp?"

Guan Peng was equally stunned, finding that Deng Ziyang's swordplay was not only fast but also targeted his weak points, forcing him to stay on high alert. One slip and he'd lose on the spot.

Both felt the other had been holding back, so they dropped their contempt and focused entirely, not daring to relax for a moment.

Watching from the side, Zhuang Xiaotian felt as if the two had become completely different people. The sword and blade techniques made his heart race with shock, and he could hardly believe it. "How did they suddenly get so strong?"

They exchanged dozens of moves, neither able to gain the upper hand.

By the end, both were exhausted and, with unspoken agreement, stopped, calling it a draw.

Because of the heavy drain, the next sparring session was postponed to the next day.

Soon, they dispersed, returning to their own courtyards to practice.

After this fight, all three of them understood: it wasn't that their sworn brothers were weak, but that Chen Ming was too strong, making their flaws stand out. In truth, the three of them were about evenly matched.

In the blink of an eye, a month had passed.

One morning at dawn, as Chen Ming pushed open his door, he felt a chill. Looking up, the sky was dark, and the courtyard was carpeted with fallen leaves.

He breathed in the bleak air and thought, Winter's almost here.

By the time he finished washing up, over twenty young boys were already standing in the courtyard, the oldest thirteen or fourteen, the youngest nine. All were children from nearby families, sent to him to learn martial arts.

Chen Ming naturally didn't refuse—the more, the merrier. Teaching ten was the same as teaching twenty.

The news that he'd become a martial artist had still gotten out.

That day when Eldest Brother went to inform their parents' spirits in heaven, Elder Sister-in-Law had overheard.

Then Xiao Hong, the maid by Elder Sister-in-Law's side, had inadvertently let it slip, and soon it spread everywhere.

So more and more people sent their children over. At best, they'd learn some martial skills; at worst, they'd forge a connection with the Chen family.

That was probably the thinking behind the families sending their kids.

Chen Ming taught as usual for an hour, then went to breakfast. At the table, he only saw his sister-in-law Wei Shi and his little nephew. He asked, "Where's Eldest Brother?"

"Your brother didn't come home all night."

"What happened?"

"Something about a problem with the medicinal herbs he bought." Wei Shi only knew the gist and wasn't too worried. With Erlang in the house now, she had confidence, unlike before when even small troubles would panic her.

"Mm."

Chen Ming said nothing, but he knew this trouble was probably serious.

Eldest Brother was a family man who never frequented pleasure houses. The last time he'd stayed overnight at the pharmacy was when Chen Ming was in prison.

"Erlang, your courtyard can't go without servants forever. Now that more people are coming to learn martial arts from you, you'll need help. I've picked out two clever ones—do you want to meet them?"

"Sister-in-Law, you decide."

Chen Ming didn't care much about it.