First Steps into the Martial Hall

Early morning in Qinghe Town was a little livelier than usual.

Quite a few breakfast stalls had been set up along the streets, steam rising straight into the air as passersby hurried by.

Chen Mo carried a bundle on his back as he walked beside Zhao Chuan, the two heading shoulder to shoulder toward Clear River Martial Hall.

Zhao Chuan had not stopped talking the entire way.

"What do you think the martial hall is really like inside?"

"Is everyone in there a martial artist?"

"Are those official disciples especially powerful?"

"Will we be able to break wooden posts with a single punch someday?"

Chen Mo's head was swelling from all his questions.

"Where did you get so many questions?"

"It's my first time officially entering the martial hall. Shouldn't I learn about it beforehand?"

"Didn't you already ask all the way there yesterday?"

"Yesterday was yesterday. Today is different."

Chen Mo curled his lip.

"If you keep asking, I won't even want to go in once we reach the gate."

Zhao Chuan grinned.

"You could bear not to?"

"I couldn't."

Chen Mo answered without hesitation.

"I haven't even gone inside yet."

Zhao Chuan immediately burst out laughing.

When they reached the vicinity of the martial hall, he looked up at the tall courtyard walls.

"Whenever I passed by here before, I could only look from outside."

Chen Mo glanced at it as well.

"Me too."

When he had followed his father to the market to sell game as a child, he would always stop whenever they passed the martial hall.

The sounds of punches and kicks drifted over the courtyard walls in waves.

Back then, he had only thought the people inside were incredibly impressive.

Now that he was truly standing at its entrance, Chen Mo felt a little excited instead.

So one day, I really got to enter too.

He lowered his head and looked at the wooden plaque in his hand.

The four words Clear River Martial Hall were carved upon it.

"I really did get one."

Zhao Chuan turned his head.

"What did you say?"

"Nothing."

"I heard you."

"So what if you did?"

The corners of Chen Mo's lips lifted slightly.

The martial hall's gates were already wide open.

Two gatekeeping disciples stood at the entrance.

Chen Mo and Zhao Chuan stepped forward and handed over their wooden plaques.

The gatekeeping disciple took a look.

"Newly admitted disciples?"

"Yes."

Chen Mo answered.

The gatekeeping disciple stepped aside.

"Go in."

Chen Mo took back his plaque and stepped over the threshold.

The instant his foot landed, he could not help turning back for another look.

Before, he could only stand outside.

Today, he had finally come in.

"You're looking back again."

Zhao Chuan laughed beside him.

"Can't I look?"

"You can."

"Then why say it?"

The two walked deeper inside.

The moment they entered the training ground, Zhao Chuan's eyes lit up.

"It's huge!"

Clear River Martial Hall was even more spacious than Chen Mo had imagined.

The front courtyard was the training ground where the previous trial had been held.

Dozens of disciples were practicing their fists there.

Their punching wind stirred their robes, and their footsteps struck the ground with dull thuds.

No one shouted slogans.

Nor were there any exaggerated stances.

They simply repeated the same movements again and again.

Zhao Chuan stared in a daze.

"How are they all so good?"

Chen Mo watched seriously as well.

One slightly older disciple did not punch quickly.

Yet every punch he threw left his body steady.

His footing never faltered, and his waist turned naturally with the motion.

After dozens of repetitions, his movements had barely changed at all.

Chen Mo watched for a while.

"This one's pretty impressive."

Zhao Chuan asked:

"You understood it?"

"How could I understand all of it?"

Chen Mo curled his lip.

"But just looking at them, they're stronger than us."

Zhao Chuan nodded.

"When will we be able to do that too?"

Chen Mo thought for a moment.

"Practice for a few years first."

"A few years?"

"You think practicing fists is like eating? You sit down and suddenly know how?"

Zhao Chuan immediately deflated.

"Then when will I be able to break a wooden post with one punch?"

"Wait until you stop punching yourself in the face first."

"You're laughing at me again."

"I'm stating facts."

The two bickered.

Yet Chen Mo could not help looking again at those senior disciples in the field.

He truly felt a little envious.

He wanted to master punches like that too.

But this was not something that could be rushed.

The other newcomers arrived one after another.

A quarter of an hour later, Instructor Li also appeared at the training ground.

He walked before them and swept his gaze across the group.

"Is everyone here?"

The five hurriedly stood properly.

Wang Lie stood at the very front.

Chen Mo, Zhao Chuan, Zhou Zhan, and Wu Jie stood in order beside him.

Instructor Li looked at them.

"Starting today, you officially become Outer-Courtyard Apprentices of Clear River Martial Hall."

"The previous trial only proved that you were qualified to enter."

"The martial hall will teach you fist techniques and provide a place for you to practice."

"But how far you can go will depend on yourselves."

"Do you understand?"

"Understood!"

The five answered in unison.

Zhao Chuan had been brimming with excitement just moments ago, but now he grew considerably more serious.

Chen Mo nodded as well.

After seeing those senior disciples earlier, he already understood.

Getting in was easy.

Actually training was probably not going to be so easy.

Instructor Li did not say more.

"Today, we'll start with the basics."

"Follow me."

At the center of the training ground.

Several senior disciples stopped their movements and cleared the space.

Instructor Li walked to the front.

"The foundations of martial arts are nothing more than a few things."

"Body, strength, control."

"You're still young. Don't start thinking about all that flashy nonsense."

"If your foundation is poor, whatever you learn will be an empty frame."

After saying that, he demonstrated Basic Fist once.

The movements were not fast.

They could even be called simple.

But after watching only once, Chen Mo discovered that this set of punches was not as simple as it appeared.

Where the feet landed, when the waist turned, how the fist was drawn back—every part had its own particularity.

He hurriedly memorized it.

"Practice along with me."

The five newcomers began to imitate him.

Wang Lie found the feeling almost immediately.

His body was already sturdy, and many of his movements came out exceptionally solid.

When he threw a punch, even his sleeve billowed with it.

Zhao Chuan was not slow either.

He was simply too impatient at times; before his feet had steadied themselves, his fist had already gone out.

"Slow down."

Instructor Li reminded him.

Zhao Chuan hurriedly pulled back.

"Yes."

Zhou Zhan and Wu Jie also did their best to follow along.

When it came to Chen Mo, he had barely completed a few moves in the first round before he felt something was wrong.

He had remembered the movements.

But his body had not kept up completely at all.

He knew where his feet should stand.

He also knew how his waist should turn.

Yet when several moves were linked together, they easily fell into disorder.

Sometimes his fist went out, but his foot failed to follow.

Sometimes his body turned, but his shoulder rushed half a step ahead.

Chen Mo stopped.

"Strange..."

Zhao Chuan turned his head.

"What's wrong?"

"This fist technique looks simple. Why does it feel so awkward when you actually use it?"

Zhao Chuan froze.

"You think so too?"

"You too?"

"I nearly tripped myself just now."

Chen Mo burst out laughing.

"Then we're two of a kind."

"You're still laughing."

"Aren't I keeping you company?"

Zhao Chuan glared at him.

"You're just being stubborn."

Chen Mo did not argue.

"Fine, you're right."

The second round began.

Chen Mo no longer hurried to keep up the pace.

He planted his feet first.

Then twisted his waist.

Only then did he throw his punch.

The movements were slow, but they were clearly smoother.

Even he noticed it himself.

"That's it."

"This time was right."

Zhao Chuan asked:

"What are you talking about now?"

The corner of Chen Mo's mouth curled up.

"I improved."

"From just one move?"

"One move is still improvement."

Zhao Chuan shook his head.

"You're really easy to satisfy."

Chen Mo snorted.

"None of your business."

But that little bit of pride in his heart truly could not be hidden.

As they continued practicing, his body began to protest.

After finishing one set of Basic Fist.

Wang Lie was merely breathing a little harder.

Zhao Chuan could still stand there and talk.

But Chen Mo was already drenched in sweat.

His arms were aching, and his chest felt somewhat tight as well.

He braced himself on his knees and took two breaths.

"So tiring."

Zhao Chuan looked at him.

"Who was it that said he'd improved just now?"

"Improvement and being tired don't conflict."

Chen Mo looked up at Wang Lie.

That guy had already started his second round.

"Is this guy forged from iron or something?"

Zhao Chuan followed his gaze.

"Looks like it to me."

Chen Mo could not help laughing.

Instructor Li happened to pass by.

"Since it's your first time practicing, don't chase speed or quantity."

"First make sure your movements are correct."

Chen Mo immediately straightened up.

"Understood."

After resting, he started again.

Wherever he had been awkward just now, he practiced that part.

Especially his footwork.

When he could not figure something out himself, he did not feel embarrassed. He simply watched how others did it.

When he saw Wang Lie, he asked outright:

"When you turned just now, did your foot land first?"

Wang Lie nodded.

"Mm."

"Why?"

"Smooth."

Chen Mo blanked for a moment.

"..."

That simple?

He curled his lip.

"Fine, I'll figure it out myself."

Wang Lie had already turned around and continued practicing his fist technique.

Chen Mo stared at his retreating back.

"He really knows how to save words."

Zhao Chuan laughed aloud beside him.

The afternoon training was even more exhausting than the morning.

Chen Mo tried several times to match Wang Lie's speed, but after only a few rounds, he was already panting.

In the end, he could only honestly slow down.

He really was a little unwilling to accept it.

But no matter how unwilling he was, his body could not be trained up overnight.

He could not possibly train himself flat on the ground just to save face.

After training ended, several newcomers did not leave right away.

Zhao Chuan sat to one side, rubbing his arm.

"Will we get to learn more powerful martial techniques later?"

Zhou Zhan and Wu Jie also asked a few questions.

Some wanted to know when they could learn weapons.

Some wanted to know when they could become true martial artists.

Chen Mo had wanted to ask too.

But after thinking it over, he went to Instructor Li first.

"Instructor."

"What is it?"

"How many times a day is it appropriate to practice Basic Fist?"

Instructor Li glanced at him.

"Don't be in a hurry to count repetitions."

"First make sure every round is done correctly."

"Once your body catches up, you'll naturally know how much you should practice."

Chen Mo nodded earnestly.

"Understood."

After Instructor Li left, Zhao Chuan leaned over.

"Why didn't you ask when we can learn powerful martial techniques?"

"I wanted to ask too."

"Then why didn't you?"

Chen Mo looked at him.

"Because I haven't even figured out Basic Fist yet."

Zhao Chuan was speechless for a moment.

Chen Mo immediately became smug.

"Don't you suddenly think I make a lot of sense?"

"No."

"You're just jealous."

"Get lost."

Night slowly descended.

Everyone else had dispersed.

The training ground gradually fell quiet.

Yet Chen Mo did not return immediately.

Several parts had remained awkward when he practiced during the day.

He stepped back in front of the wooden post.

He assumed his stance.

The first round was still wrong.

His footing was unsteady.

His waist did not drive the movement.

The moment his fist went out, his shoulder rushed ahead instead.

Chen Mo stopped.

"Here again."

He thought for a while, then adjusted himself again.

The second round.

The third round.

He did not blindly throw punches in a muddle.

Whenever he found a problem, he stopped and tried again.

Whenever a sequence occasionally went smoothly, he could not help grinning.

"This one was good."

One more time.

"This one works too."

Gradually, those few awkward parts began to smooth out.

Chen Mo wiped the sweat from his forehead.

He was tired, truly tired.

But he was quite happy inside.

At least today's training had not been in vain.

Just as he was about to leave, he suddenly remembered what Instructor Li had said yesterday.

"Tomorrow, you'll receive your first monthly allowance."

Chen Mo's steps paused.

Monthly allowance.

He was genuinely looking forward to it.

He wondered what exactly the martial hall would hand out.

At that thought, he could not help smiling.

"I'll find out tomorrow."

With that, Chen Mo slung his bundle over his back and left the training ground.