Rooting Down

After choosing the Seventy-Three Forms, Chen Mo's life did not become any easier.

Instead, it became even more exhausting.

While others studied Advanced Fist Manuals, he practiced the basics.

While others tried new moves, he was still practicing the Seventy-Three Forms.

Some people flipped through their fist manuals dozens of times a day, while he performed the Seventy-Three Forms more than ten times a day as well.

At first, Chen Mo even found it a little tedious.

The same moves.

The same footwork.

The same punches.

He practiced them over and over, yet it always seemed to be those same few movements.

One evening, after watching him perform three consecutive sets, Zhao Chuan could not help asking:

"Aren't you sick of it?"

Chen Mo wiped away his sweat.

"I am."

Zhao Chuan froze.

"You really are sick of it?"

"Of course I am."

Chen Mo rolled his eyes at him.

"The Seventy-Three Forms aren't something delicious. If you eat them every day, of course you'll get tired of them."

Zhao Chuan immediately laughed.

"Then why do you still practice?"

"What else am I supposed to do?"

Chen Mo said matter-of-factly, "The quarterly exam won't get postponed just because I'm sick of it."

Zhao Chuan had nothing to say.

Chen Mo laughed too.

He really did get tired of it.

And he really did envy those Advanced Fist Manuals.

Especially after Zhou Ye started seeing results. Those punches and kicks looked so impressive that Chen Mo sometimes could not help wanting to learn them while standing nearby.

But wanting was one thing.

When it came time for his own training, he still practiced the Seventy-Three Forms properly first.

Gradually, he began noticing changes he had not paid attention to before.

The most obvious was his recovery.

After finishing a set of punches before, he would have to gasp for breath for a long time.

His chest felt as though a stone were pressing down on it.

Especially after continuous training, his legs would ache and swell, and they would feel heavy even when he got up the next day.

Now, although he was still tired, it was no longer as unbearable as before.

After finishing a round of training, he only needed to stand there and recover for a moment before his breathing quickly settled.

His legs were no longer as sore the next day either.

This had not happened overnight.

It had accumulated bit by bit every day.

Another change was that he found it easier to keep his footing after taking a hit.

Once, Zhao Chuan bumped into him during sparring while he was not paying attention.

Chen Mo's body swayed.

The sole of his foot slid half a step backward.

But in the next moment, he forcibly steadied himself again.

Zhao Chuan stopped.

"Huh?"

Chen Mo was a little surprised too.

"What is it?"

"Didn't you used to retreat two or three steps right away?"

Chen Mo lowered his head and looked at his feet.

"Seems like it."

"When did you train that up?"

"How would I know?"

Zhao Chuan stroked his chin.

"Could it be that you really got stronger?"

Chen Mo's spirits immediately rose.

"Of course I did."

"You're already showing off over something this small?"

"What business is it of yours?"

As they spoke, the two assumed their stances again.

This time, Zhao Chuan deliberately slammed into him.

Chen Mo shifted his body slightly to the side.

Smack!

Zhao Chuan nearly lunged forward by himself.

"You're cheating!"

"How is that cheating?"

Chen Mo laughed so hard he could barely stop.

"I've learned how to dodge."

"Just you wait."

Zhao Chuan chased after him, and the two soon wound up tussling together.

Those nearby who saw them laughed as well.

There were many little episodes like this.

Chen Mo did not start keeping a straight face all day just because he had begun quietly focusing on the basics.

When training wore him out, he still traded a few barbs with Zhao Chuan.

When he failed to practice well, he still got frustrated.

When he occasionally saw others improving faster than him, he still felt jealous.

It was only that the impulse to seek shortcuts whenever he grew anxious had diminished somewhat.

He had begun to understand the level his own body was at.

He knew what he could handle right now.

And what he would choke on if he tried to swallow too quickly.

That day, Instructor Li arranged a session of continuous training.

Everyone repeatedly practiced their punches according to the requirements.

After the first round, quite a few people still looked relaxed.

When the second round began, their sweat noticeably increased.

After the third round, some had already begun panting.

Chen Mo was not having an easy time either.

His arms were aching.

His shoulders felt heavy.

His legs felt as though they had been filled with lead.

But he did not stop.

When he trained to this point before, his movements would already have started falling apart.

After throwing a punch, he could not pull it back.

His footing would become unsteady as well.

But today, he gritted his teeth and slowed his rhythm a little.

He did not pursue speed.

He focused on completing each movement properly first.

The fiftieth punch.

Still steady.

The sixtieth punch.

His breathing began to grow ragged.

The seventieth punch.

His arms were already aching.

Chen Mo gritted his teeth.

"Again."

Seventy-one.

Seventy-two.

He felt as though his legs had become incredibly heavy.

But his feet still held firm.

Seventy-five.

The people around him had already begun stopping one after another.

Seventy-six.

Sweat continuously dripped from Chen Mo's forehead.

Seventy-seven.

His chest rose and fell faster and faster.

Seventy-eight.

He felt as though his arms no longer belonged to him.

Seventy-nine.

The final punch.

Eighty.

When he pulled his fist back, Chen Mo bent over completely and gasped for air.

He was so tired that he did not want to say a single word.

Zhao Chuan watched him for a while from nearby.

"You still holding up?"

Chen Mo waved his hand.

"Don't talk."

"What's wrong?"

"Let me catch my breath."

Zhao Chuan suppressed a laugh.

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

Chen Mo looked up and glared at him.

"You try it."

Zhao Chuan immediately shook his head.

"I'm not trying it."

Only then did Chen Mo smile.

He slowly straightened up.

Although he was tired.

There was an indescribable bit of joy in his heart.

Eighty punches.

Before, his movements would begin to deform after fifty punches.

At the time, he had thought perhaps his stamina was simply too poor.

Now it seemed that it was not just stamina.

His footwork, breathing, and bodily control were all slowly changing.

Those changes had not turned him into an expert overnight.

Even in terms of strength, he was still inferior to Wang Lie.

But at the very least, he could control his own body better than before.

After training ended, Chen Mo sat beside a wooden post and wiped away his sweat.

Wang Lie passed by from the side.

Chen Mo glanced at him.

"Wang Lie."

Wang Lie stopped.

"What?"

"You carry that much weight every day. Don't you get tired?"

"I do."

Wang Lie answered without hesitation.

Chen Mo was a little surprised.

"Then why do you keep training?"

Wang Lie glanced at him.

"I want to get stronger."

Chen Mo smiled.

"What a coincidence. So do I."

Wang Lie said nothing more.

He hoisted the weight and continued forward.

Chen Mo watched his retreating back, still feeling a little envious.

They were both practicing boxing.

Yet Wang Lie's body was simply stronger than his.

Comparing people really could drive a person mad.

But he soon smiled again.

"I'll catch up slowly."

Meanwhile, Zhou Ye still had not stopped training Advanced Fist.

His progress remained obvious.

It was even faster than Chen Mo's.

Chen Mo saw that very clearly.

Sometimes, when Zhou Ye threw a punch, even Chen Mo felt its imposing force.

But lately, after finishing his training, Zhou Ye had been resting longer and longer.

Once, Chen Mo happened to see him rubbing his leg as he passed by.

"What happened to your leg?"

"Nothing."

"You call that nothing?"

Zhou Ye stood up.

"I'm just tired."

Chen Mo nodded.

"Then rest."

Zhou Ye looked at him.

"You've gotten pretty good at talking now."

"I'm concerned about you."

Zhou Ye smiled.

"Worry about yourself."

Chen Mo said nothing more either.

He knew Zhou Ye had not taken the wrong path.

It was simply that everyone's circumstances were different.

Zhao Chuan had become even more honest and steady.

He kept that incomplete Advanced Fist Manual at the very bottom of his bundle.

Usually, he still could not help taking it out for a look.

But during training, he no longer forced himself to practice it.

"Once I've built a solid foundation."

He patted the incomplete manual as he spoke.

"Sooner or later, I'll figure this thing out."

Chen Mo nodded.

"I'll wait for that day."

"Don't get jealous when the time comes."

"I'll beat you first, then we'll talk."

After saying that, the two began competing against each other again.

The quarterly assessment drew closer and closer.

This competition became more and more obvious as well.

On the martial arts field, nearly everyone was giving it their all.

Some trained an extra half an hour every day.

Some even ate faster than before to save time.

The line outside the pharmacy remained long.

The rewards for the top ten had also become the topic everyone mentioned most often.

Naturally, Chen Mo heard about them too.

Every time he heard the words "Advanced Body-Strengthening Medicinal Powder," his heart still stirred.

Choosing Basic Fist had not suddenly made him stop caring about the rankings.

On the contrary.

He wanted to make the top ten even more than before.

Because now he knew that if he wanted resources, he had to fight for them through his own results.

He did not want to lose.

Nor was he willing to lose.

Sometimes, lying in bed at night, he even wondered what rank he was at now.

What if he was only a few places short?

What if he could not make the top ten this time?

Whenever he thought of that, he would sit up from bed again.

"Tomorrow, I'll practice one more round."

But when the next day truly came, he still trained according to his usual plan.

He would not let his impatience make him act recklessly.

The days passed one by one like this.

One evening, the martial arts field finally fell completely silent.

Chen Mo finished the last round of the Seventy-Three Forms.

He did not leave in a hurry.

Standing where he was, he lightly moved his shoulders.

His body was still somewhat sore.

But that soreness no longer felt as unbearable as before.

He raised his hand and looked at his palm.

The calluses were a little thicker than before.

Fine calluses had also formed around his finger joints.

Chen Mo grinned.

"I've really trained up a little."

He packed his things and prepared to leave.

When he reached the wall, his steps suddenly paused.

The mountains to the west had already sunk completely into the night.

Layer upon layer of mountain shadows pressed down over one another.

The paths within could not be seen clearly.

Chen Mo stood there and watched for a while.

The people who had come from Paulownia River came to mind again.

So did what Instructor Li had said that afternoon.

The west was not peaceful.

He did not know what exactly had happened.

Nor did he know whether he would truly encounter it in the future.

But at least for now, what he could do was simple.

Train his body to be a little stronger.

Train his footing to be a little steadier.

And do well on the quarterly assessment too.

With that thought, Chen Mo withdrew his gaze.

"Time to go."

He turned and left the martial arts field.

Behind him, the lights went out one by one.

Beyond the wall, the mountains still lay quietly beneath the night.