Before the Monthly Exam

Early the next morning, Chen Mo returned to Clear River Martial Hall.

The sounds of boxing practice already rang through the training yard. He set down his things, joined the line with everyone else, and began the familiar basic boxing routine again.

After only two rounds, Chen Mo noticed something different.

When he practiced before, he had always focused on making every movement perfectly standard—how low his shoulders should sink, how his waist should turn, where his feet should land—all according to the instructor's teachings. But after returning from the mountains, he found that he no longer clung to that so stubbornly.

When his fist went out, his footing adjusted naturally, and his body turned with the shift in his center of gravity. He had not deliberately changed the movements, yet the whole sequence flowed far more smoothly than before.

After finishing one round, Chen Mo stopped to think, then started over.

This time, that stiff feeling faded even more.

He could not help grinning.

Looks like that trip to the mountains had not been for nothing.

But when he truly drove his strength into his fist, that familiar feeling returned.

His fist struck the wooden post with a dull thud.

The post swayed, then quickly came to a stop.

Chen Mo pulled back his hand and shook out his tingling fingers.

Still not enough.

That battle in the mountains had indeed let him grasp some things he had never understood before, but those things had not made his strength grow out of thin air. They were useful against real beasts, but back at the martial hall, insufficient strength was still insufficient strength.

Still, he was not too disappointed.

At least now, he knew where he fell short.

After morning training ended, Instructor Li kept everyone behind.

"I've already told you about the monthly exam," he said, looking at the newcomers before him. "The date has been set. It'll be three days from now."

A wave of hushed discussion immediately rose from the crowd.

"There are still three events."

"Basic boxing, weight-bearing, and sparring."

"The final results will be calculated together, then posted on the board."

At that, Instructor Li paused.

"Rankings concern more than just your pride. They also determine what resources you can receive later. If you want good results, make the most of these next few days."

The moment those words fell, the atmosphere in the training yard changed at once.

Some continued practicing their boxing during the break. Some gathered together to ask about each other's progress. Others simply found partners and began sparring.

Chen Mo stood to one side and watched for a while, feeling an itch in his heart as well.

Of course he wanted a good ranking.

On one hand, he wanted to see just what he had achieved through all this time of training. On the other, he wanted to make those people who said he had gotten in through luck shut their mouths.

Thinking of that, he found it a little funny.

Since when had he cared so much about what other people said?

Still, if he really could earn a decent place on the rankings, he would definitely be happy.

During the morning break, Chen Mo sat at the edge of the training yard, drinking water.

Not far away, two newcomers were huddled together, flipping through a thin handwritten boxing manual. The booklet was small, but its paper was much finer than the training books issued by the martial hall. It was densely filled with notes on exerting force and shifting footwork.

Elsewhere, someone had brought medicinal broth from home and was squatting in the corner, drinking it slowly.

Chen Mo glanced over a few times.

"Must be nice to have money."

Zhao Chuan happened to sit down beside him. Hearing that, he followed Chen Mo's gaze and could not help clicking his tongue.

"I heard that stuff isn't cheap outside."

Chen Mo said nothing.

Of course he knew whether it was expensive.

If he had those things too, practicing his boxing might have been much easier.

The thought had barely surfaced before he shook his head.

No use thinking about it.

He might as well honestly master what was in front of him first.

That afternoon, the instructor arranged for the newcomers to spar in pairs.

"It won't count toward the monthly exam results. This is only to help you get used to actual combat beforehand," Instructor Li said from the edge of the yard. "Stop when appropriate. Losing isn't shameful. Stubbornly holding on is what's shameful."

Wooden plaques were drawn one by one.

Chen Mo lowered his head to look at his opponent. It was a newcomer who was usually somewhat stronger than him.

When that person saw the name, he smiled.

"Chen Mo?"

"Yeah."

"I heard you're pretty good at dodging."

Chen Mo glanced at him.

"Knowing how to dodge is better than not knowing how."

Someone nearby laughed.

The other person did not get angry. He merely rolled his shoulders.

"Then you'd better not be too slow to dodge later."

The two stepped into the ring.

Chen Mo lightly loosened his ankles, then tested two steps in place.

The bluestone slabs were very flat.

There were no loose rocks from the mountains, nor any uneven slopes.

He quickly gathered his thoughts and fixed his eyes on the person before him.

The whistle sounded.

His opponent charged first, throwing a punch straight at his face.

Chen Mo shifted aside, the fist nearly brushing past his ear.

His opponent withdrew quickly, and the second punch came crashing in right after it.

Chen Mo did not take it head-on. He pivoted beneath his feet and angled his shoulders with the motion, letting the fist scrape past his chest.

Third punch. Fourth punch.

Several consecutive attacks were all evaded before they could land.

The bystanders gradually began talking.

"He really dodged them all." "His footwork is pretty quick."

Chen Mo heard them, and that small spark of pride rose within him again.

Looks like what he learned in the mountains really could be used.

But his opponent suddenly stopped.

"Is dodging all you know how to do?"

Chen Mo froze.

The next moment, his opponent rushed forward again.

This time, he did not follow Chen Mo's movements. Instead, he directly pressed in, each punch heavier than the last.

Chen Mo quickly saw the change.

The shoulder moved first.

Right fist.

He should go left.

The thought had barely flashed through his mind when his feet lagged half a beat behind.

Bang!

The fist grazed his shoulder, sending Chen Mo stumbling back a step.

He had barely regained his footing when another punch came.

Chen Mo hurriedly twisted aside, but this time he was no longer as composed as before. The wind from the fist swept past his chest, jolting half his body numb.

He wanted to retreat, but his opponent kept forcing closer.

He could clearly see the path of every punch.

But sometimes, his eyes already knew how to dodge, while his body could not move in time.

Another punch came smashing down. Chen Mo raised an arm and blocked it head-on.

A dull impact rang out.

He staggered back several steps, his heel crossing the boundary line.

"Stop!"

The disciple overseeing the ring immediately shouted.

"Out of the ring. Chen Mo loses."

Chen Mo stood outside the ring, breathing hard for several moments.

His opponent walked over and cupped his fists.

"Thanks for letting me win."

"Mm."

Chen Mo nodded, his expression still fairly calm.

Zhao Chuan had already crowded over.

"Weren't you dodging pretty well just now?"

Chen Mo raised a hand and wiped away his sweat.

"My footing wasn't steady that time."

Zhao Chuan lowered his head and looked at the ground beneath them.

"Bluestone slabs."

Chen Mo followed his gaze downward.

"..."

Zhao Chuan nearly burst out laughing.

"Do you believe that yourself?"

Chen Mo glared at him.

"Even if you don't, don't say it out loud."

Zhao Chuan laughed so hard his shoulders shook.

Chen Mo ignored him.

He turned back to look at where they had sparred, and that small bit of pride had already scattered.

He knew he had not lost because he could not see the attacks.

On the contrary, he could actually tell when his opponent was about to throw a punch.

But his body could not keep up.

What the mountains had taught him was how to observe, how to borrow force, how to survive by following the environment. Just because he understood something did not mean his body would immediately become stronger.

"So what if I understand it..."

Chen Mo muttered softly.

"I still have to train this body of mine up."

Wang Lie had been watching from the side all along.

Only after Zhao Chuan left did he walk over.

"You saw it accurately just now."

Chen Mo looked up.

Wang Lie glanced at his feet.

"It's just that your body can't keep up."

After saying that, he did not add anything else. He turned and returned to his spot to continue practicing his boxing.

Chen Mo stood there for a while.

Those words did not sound pleasant, but they were more useful than Zhao Chuan's comfort.

At least they had hit the mark.

By evening, the people in the training yard gradually dispersed.

But Chen Mo did not leave.

He stood before the wooden post, practicing the basic boxing routine from earlier again and again. The first few rounds went smoothly enough, but by the end, he would still get stuck at the point where he exerted force.

He stopped to catch his breath and looked up at the wooden post before him.

That sparring match today had not been an ugly loss, yet it had left him feeling stifled.

He had clearly seen it coming, yet he had still fallen just short.

Chen Mo gritted his teeth and took up his stance again.

"Again."

As night deepened, the dull sounds of fists and feet landing rang out through the training yard once more.

The monthly exam three days away was already close at hand.