The Choice to Take the Initiative

The next morning, Chen Mo had just finished a round of the Seventy-Three Forms and was about to get some water when someone suddenly called for him from the Book Repository Pavilion.

"Chen Mo!"

Chen Mo turned around.

A menial disciple responsible for delivering messages stood beneath the corridor, waving at him.

"What is it?"

"The steward wants you to go to the Book Repository Pavilion this afternoon."

Chen Mo walked over.

"The Book Repository Pavilion is looking for me?"

"Yeah."

The man glanced at the list in his hand.

"Someone returned that Advanced Fist Manual earlier. Now it's your turn."

Chen Mo froze for a moment.

"My turn?"

"That's right."

With that, the man turned and left.

Chen Mo remained where he was, taking two breaths before coming back to himself.

Zhao Chuan happened to be passing by. The moment he heard this, he immediately came over.

"What do you mean, it's your turn?"

Chen Mo explained what had happened.

Zhao Chuan's eyes instantly lit up.

"Your luck is way too good, isn't it?"

"Is it really that exaggerated?"

"Of course it is!"

Zhao Chuan looked like he hated iron for not turning into steel.

"Do you know how many people have been fighting over that thing these past few days? Zhou Ye was ranked so high and only barely got it. A whole crowd behind him never even got a chance."

"I know."

"Then hurry over this afternoon."

Chen Mo smiled.

"Got it."

Zhao Chuan was still uneasy.

"Don't just stand at the entrance, take one look, then come back and tell me you didn't borrow it."

Chen Mo shot him a glance.

"Am I that stupid?"

"That's hard to say."

"Get lost."

Zhao Chuan laughed and ran off.

Chen Mo watched his retreating back and smiled as well.

But after the smile faded, he was nowhere near as relaxed as Zhao Chuan imagined.

Because this time, it really was his turn.

If he had merely failed to get it, he would not have given it much thought.

Once an opportunity was gone, it was gone.

But now, the opportunity had been placed before him again.

And it was close enough to reach out and touch.

After afternoon training ended, Chen Mo went alone to the Book Repository Pavilion.

Unlike the past few days, there was no long line at the entrance today.

It was much quieter inside as well.

When the steward disciple saw him enter, he directly picked up a fist manual from the table.

"This is the one."

Chen Mo walked over.

The manual was not especially thick, but its cover had been preserved remarkably well.

He reached out and accepted it.

It felt somewhat heavy in his hands.

The steward disciple said, "Once you register, you can borrow it. Return it according to the rules."

"How long can I borrow it for?"

"Until the Quarterly Assessment ends."

Chen Mo nodded.

That was already enough time.

He placed the fist manual on the table and reached for the brush.

The tip of the brush touched the paper.

Yet he did not write for a long time.

The steward disciple looked up at him.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

Chen Mo lowered his head and looked at the paper.

He should have written right away.

Name, date.

It was simple.

But at that moment, the first thought that surfaced in his mind was—

If I borrow this, can I make it into the top ten?

It was not impossible.

In fact, the chances were not small.

Since so many people were competing for this fist manual, it naturally had value.

After Zhou Ye started practicing it, his speed had noticeably improved.

The others might not have practiced it very well, but if they were given enough time to slowly shore up their foundations, sooner or later they would be able to bring out the manual's true power.

What about himself?

If he started practicing today, there was still some time before the Quarterly Assessment.

Even if he could not fully master it, he could at least learn a few moves.

During the assessment, he might be able to earn a few more points.

A few points did not seem like much.

But the top ten rankings were sometimes decided by exactly those few points.

At that thought, Chen Mo's hand moved forward a little more.

He thought of the Advanced Body-Strengthening Medicinal Powder.

That thing was truly tempting to him.

He wanted to grow stronger.

His family needed money too.

If he could obtain the medicinal powder, his cultivation speed could increase somewhat.

Once his strength rose in the future, there would naturally be more things he could do.

His father's leg.

His mother's exhaustion.

And his younger sister's schooling.

None of these could be solved by empty words alone.

Holding the brush, Chen Mo suddenly felt irritated.

"Why not just borrow it?"

The thought circled around in his heart.

He had even started considering which part he would read first after going back.

But soon, another scene surfaced in his mind.

The martial arts field.

A youth practiced until he was drenched in sweat.

A set of fist techniques that looked beautiful, yet when someone truly pressed in on him, his footing turned chaotic.

And Zhao Chuan.

Two days ago, he had been thrilled beyond measure when he got that incomplete scroll.

But after practicing it a few times, even he had no choice but to admit that his body simply could not keep up.

Zhou Ye was different.

He really was practicing it well.

But after watching him train continuously, Chen Mo had still noticed the problem.

His steps were growing heavier and heavier.

When he turned, his rear foot was sometimes half a beat too slow.

It was not that the fist technique was lacking.

His body simply had not fully caught up yet.

Chen Mo lowered his head and looked at his own legs.

He knew the state of his own foundation.

He was a little stronger than Zhao Chuan, but not by much.

Strength had always been his weakness.

His lower stance was nowhere near as solid as Wang Lie's either.

With a body like this, was he really suited to learning such a complex fist technique now?

Chen Mo thought for a long time.

If it were only for the Quarterly Assessment, then of course he could give it a try.

But he suddenly thought of a question.

What exactly was he learning this set of fists for?

To win.

For the top ten.

For the medicinal powder.

All of those were true.

But if he forced himself to practice a set of fists he had not yet digested just to earn a few more points, only to lose points during the assessment because his footing was unstable, then what?

Wouldn't that be like lifting a stone only to smash his own foot?

Chen Mo frowned.

The feeling was unpleasant.

Because it was not that he did not want it.

Quite the opposite.

It was because he wanted it too badly that he was even less willing to gamble with it.

He suddenly remembered going into the mountains as a child.

Back then, his father had taught him how to walk mountain paths and always said one thing.

If your footing isn't steady, the best thing in your hands is useless.

He had never thought much of those words before.

But now that he thought back on them, they made a great deal of sense.

Chen Mo lowered his head and looked at the fist manual.

"Good stuff."

He murmured softly.

"Too bad I can't swallow it yet."

The steward disciple did not hear clearly.

"What did you say?"

Chen Mo came back to himself.

"Nothing."

He put the brush back on the table.

"I won't borrow this one."

The steward disciple was visibly stunned.

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure."

"You've thought it through?"

"I have."

The managing disciple looked at him strangely.

"This is the most sought-after set right now."

"I know."

"The next time it's your turn, who knows when that'll be."

Chen Mo nodded.

"Then we'll talk about it next time."

With that, he turned and left.

As he walked out of the Book Repository Pavilion, the wind outside swept over him, and Chen Mo actually felt a little lighter.

But after taking a few steps, he looked back again.

"Really not taking it?"

Even he couldn't help muttering to himself.

If he had brought the boxing manual back just now, he might already have started practicing it.

He would also have been one step closer to the Advanced Medicinal Powder.

To say he didn't feel the least bit pained would have been a lie.

"Forget it."

Chen Mo patted his own face.

"I'll practice it later."

Zhao Chuan was still waiting outside.

When he saw Chen Mo emerge empty-handed, the expression on his face gradually froze.

"You..."

"Mm."

"Don't tell me..."

"I didn't borrow it."

Zhao Chuan opened his mouth.

"You really didn't borrow it?"

"I really didn't."

"Why?"

"I don't think it's suitable to practice it right now."

Zhao Chuan grew anxious.

"Then what were you thinking before?"

"Before, I didn't have the chance."

"But now you do!"

"So I gave it some thought."

Zhao Chuan looked at him and said nothing for a long while.

In the end, he squeezed out one sentence.

"Is something wrong with your brain?"

Chen Mo kicked at him.

"Watch your mouth."

Zhao Chuan hurriedly dodged.

"You're hitting people now?"

"You were the one who insulted me."

The two messed around for a while, but Zhao Chuan still couldn't quite understand.

"Then what about your Quarterly Assessment?"

Chen Mo paused.

"I'll still take it."

"You still want to make the top ten?"

"Of course."

This time, Chen Mo answered without the slightest hesitation.

"It's not like I don't want good results."

Zhao Chuan blanked out for a moment.

Chen Mo patted him on the shoulder.

"I just think that if I learn this now, I might not be able to use it well."

"Then what are you relying on to make the top ten?"

"The Seventy-Three Forms."

Zhao Chuan looked utterly unconvinced.

"Just that?"

"Just that."

"You really dare to say it."

Chen Mo smiled.

"Then let's give it a try."

After the news spread, people in the martial arts hall soon learned that Chen Mo had given up that Advanced Fist Manual.

Some thought he lacked courage.

Some thought he lacked confidence.

Others thought he had simply given up on the Quarterly Assessment.

Chen Mo heard those words, but he did not bother explaining.

Only Zhou Ye came to find him specifically.

"You really didn't borrow it?"

"Mm."

"Why?"

Chen Mo looked at him.

"You think I should have borrowed it?"

Zhou Ye was silent for a while.

"At least you should have tried."

"How's your practice going?"

"Not bad."

"Then isn't that enough?"

Chen Mo smiled.

"What suits you might not suit me."

Zhou Ye did not refute him.

After a while, he said, "I just think opportunities like this are rare."

"I know."

Chen Mo nodded seriously.

"That's why I thought about it for so long."

After they finished talking, each returned to training.

That evening, Chen Mo stepped back into the ranks practicing the Seventy-Three Forms.

He practiced more slowly than before.

Not because he was deliberately dragging things out, but because he had begun truly paying attention to his footing.

The soles of his feet touched the ground.

His center of gravity shifted.

His waist and back turned.

After his fist shot out, how the force returned.

Moves he had once considered "close enough" now revealed quite a few problems when he looked at them again.

One turn.

His foot was off.

Start over.

One punch.

His shoulder was too tense.

Start over.

After watching for a while, Zhao Chuan could not help saying, "Why do you look like a completely different person today?"

Chen Mo did not turn around.

"How am I different?"

"You used to practice boxing pretty fast."

"I wasn't practicing carefully before."

Zhao Chuan curled his lip.

"Now you're so meticulous that just watching you tires me out."

Chen Mo smiled.

"Then don't watch."

Night gradually fell.

There were fewer and fewer people left on the training ground.

Instructor Li passed by from the side and saw Chen Mo still practicing.

He paused.

"Why aren't you practicing the new boxing style?"

"I didn't borrow it."

Instructor Li nodded.

He did not press further.

After a while, he looked toward the mountains in the west.

"The west hasn't been peaceful lately."

Chen Mo followed his gaze.

Instructor Li continued, "When something truly happens, flashy moves alone can't save anyone."

He paused.

"You must weigh for yourselves which road to take."

With that, he left.

Chen Mo stood where he was.

He looked west.

He did not chase after him to ask.

Because he had already thought through what needed thinking over the past two days.

He turned back around.

"One more time."

His fist swung out again.

This time, Chen Mo did not feel that he was settling for second best.

He only felt that he had finally found a road he could walk steadily for now.

He could practice the Advanced Fist Manual later.

But he still had to fight for the top ten.

He still wanted to obtain the Advanced Body-Strengthening Medicinal Powder.

At that thought, the corners of Chen Mo's mouth could not help lifting.

"I can't do poorly on this exam."

After saying that, he resumed practicing in earnest.