Holding his saber in both hands, he assumed his stance, pausing for several breaths before each strike. Each slash cut through the air with a whistle, accompanied by the sound of forceful breathing.
The early morning air was cold, and every time Wu Dongrong exhaled, a puff of white mist left his mouth. His breath was so concentrated and swift that it looked like he was spitting out white arrows of air!
Although Wu Shuangren knew nothing of this world's martial arts, those arrows of air alone told him that his father's skills were no ordinary matter.
Then he thought of the bandit who had killed his predecessor with a single palm strike the night before.
Even if this world's martial arts had no powers like internal force or True Qi, they certainly had their own distinctive merits.
Although I have a Trait like Match for One Person, which lets me win against anyone one-on-one, that doesn't mean I'm invincible in this world.
Wu Shuangren pondered the matter.
He could win one-on-one, but that might not be true against two opponents. Against a crowd, it would only be more dangerous.
Last night, he had only encountered a bandit who was alone. What if he ran into two or even more people in the future?
These were troubled times.
I need to learn martial arts, strengthen my body, and improve my strength!
Wu Shuangren made up his mind.
He had always liked fighting, and he was very interested in fighting techniques that could make him stronger.
He stood quietly to one side, watching Wu Dongrong practice with his saber.
A little later, Wu Dongrong stopped and turned to look at him. "You're up early today. Does your chest still hurt?"
Wu Shuangren shook his head. "It doesn't hurt anymore."
He hesitated, but in the end, he couldn't bring himself to call him "Father." Instead, he said rather stiffly, "I want to learn martial arts."
His predecessor had been sent to a private school as a child and studied there until he was seventeen. Once it became clear that he had no talent for study and couldn't pass the examinations to gain an official position, Wu Dongrong had pulled strings this year to get him a job as a constable at the county yamen.
Getting his predecessor a constable's position wasn't really meant to set him on that path. It was simply to give him an official status and some security in life.
With Liao Yu as head constable, his predecessor could have spent his days at the constables' office in peace, as long as he didn't court death himself.
Wu Dongrong went to the side to get dressed and asked casually, "Why do you suddenly want to learn martial arts? Did you get a fright last night?"
Wu Shuangren said, "If my martial arts had been a little better, I wouldn't have been hurt last night."
Wu Dongrong finished dressing and turned to look at him.
Seeing how serious Wu Shuangren looked, he shook his head at once and answered just as stiffly, "No!"
Wu Shuangren pressed his lips together.
Wu Dongrong walked up to him, his expression grave. "With your temperament, you dared chase those vicious bandits alone without knowing martial arts. If you learned a little, who knows how much trouble you'd cause!"
"..."
Wu Shuangren said nothing.
Since the man had refused, he wouldn't ask a second time.
As for the reason he'd given, Wu Shuangren actually agreed with it...
Carry a sharp blade, and the urge to kill arises of its own accord.
In his previous life, he had gotten into plenty of trouble because he'd learned how to fight.
A lot of the time, he could have swallowed his anger or handled things differently. But learning to fight had instead made him more combative and impulsive!
In his previous life, the price of acting on impulse started at five thousand per punch, with no upper limit.
In this world, his predecessor had already demonstrated the price of acting on impulse with his life...
Xu Nanzhi soon finished making breakfast: plain congee, meat buns, and two small dishes of pickles.
Before they ate, Xu Nanzhi checked the injury on Wu Shuangren's chest again. Only after she saw that the palm print had faded and took his pulse once more did she finally set her mind at ease.
Sitting down to eat together at one table as a family was another experience Wu Shuangren had never had before.
He ate absentmindedly, his thoughts fixed on learning martial arts.
After breakfast, he went to the county yamen with Wu Dongrong.
Wu Shuangren was a constable, and Wu Dongrong was the prison official. Both had to report for duty at the county yamen every day.
Early as it was, the streets were already bustling. Peddlers had begun doing business, selling breakfast, vegetables, melons and fruit...
The roads were packed yellow earth, the walls white and the roof tiles dark gray. All the shops facing the street had plank doors.
People made way when they saw the Wu father and son in their official uniforms.
When the vendors saw Wu Dongrong, they took the initiative to greet him, nodding and bowing.
Some even offered him their wares with ingratiating smiles, saying they were gifts for the honored gentleman.
Wu Dongrong accepted none of them, however, and walked straight ahead without looking aside.
Walking beside him, Wu Shuangren got a firsthand look at how imposing his father was.
Bo County's prison official was its warden. Although he was only a functionary rather than a formal official, the position carried real power and plenty of opportunities for profit. Not just anyone could hold on to it.
Wu Dongrong had been Bo County's prison official for seven years.
"Still thinking about learning martial arts?"
Wu Dongrong could see that something was on Wu Shuangren's mind, so he asked him directly.
"Mm," Wu Shuangren replied.
Wu Dongrong frowned slightly and fell silent for a moment. Then he said, "I can tell you about martial arts. Want to hear?"
Wu Shuangren turned to glance at his father.
I won't let you learn martial arts, but I can satisfy your curiosity about them.
That was probably his way of making a concession.
The feeling was rather strange to Wu Shuangren.
"Are there different realms in martial arts?"
In the end, he chose to take the way out his father had offered and asked the question.
"There are no realms, but the imperial court divides martial artists into nine ranks, just like officials. Those ranks serve as a basis for the martial examinations."
"How exactly are the ranks determined?"
"By things like how heavy a stone lock you can lift, how far and high you can jump, and how fast you can run. Each rank has a whole set of corresponding standards. Meet them, and you can be assigned that rank."
"What rank are you?"
Wu Shuangren asked curiously.
Wu Dongrong paused. "I've never been assigned a rank, but I should be Seventh Rank... Still, that system is very rigid. Real martial artists use it as a reference at most. They don't actually judge who's stronger by it."
Wu Shuangren asked, "Then how do you tell who's stronger?"
Wu Dongrong said, "Have a fight and you'll know. The one left standing is stronger; the one lying down is weaker."
Wu Shuangren said, "...Makes sense."
Martial arts in this world were rather different from what he had imagined. He'd thought there would be all sorts of realms, with clear distinctions between stronger and weaker.
"If your father went to be ranked, I might only get Seventh Rank. But if I ran into some martial artist who only knows how to practice foolish routines, he still wouldn't be my match, even if he qualified for Sixth Rank or Fifth Rank!"
Wu Dongrong felt he had lost some face and added that to make up for it.
"Of course, any martial artist who qualifies for Third Rank or above is bound to have extraordinary skills. Nearly all of them are First Rate experts, a clear step above martial artists below Third Rank. If you ever meet someone like that, remember to show respect and don't provoke them."
Afraid that what he'd said might mislead his son, Wu Dongrong added another clarification.
Wu Shuangren nodded, understanding at once.
If the difference in physical ability exceeded a certain point, it was hard for skill to make up for it.
For example, combat sports had weight classes because if the difference in weight was too great, the fight would be completely one-sided, hardly worth watching.
Presumably, the standards for ranking martial artists in this world underwent a qualitative change starting at Third Rank.
"Who's the most powerful martial artist in the world?"
Wu Shuangren asked another question.
With the Trait Match for One Person, he naturally had to pay attention to this question, and he was very curious about it.
Wu Dongrong thought for a moment. "It's hard to say. There are some widely recognized Grandmasters in the world, but they've never truly fought one another to the death, so it's hard to say who's stronger."
Wu Shuangren promptly caught a word. "Grandmasters? What does it take to be one? Reaching First Rank?"
Wu Dongrong shook his head. "Grandmasters are above First Rank. They can no longer be judged by fixed standards. Some Grandmasters have archery skills that border on the divine, some have unparalleled swordsmanship, and some have incredibly swift movement techniques... They're all martial artists who have almost reached the pinnacle of their respective fields."
Wu Shuangren was puzzled. "Isn't there any threshold at all?"
As if remembering something, Wu Dongrong said gravely, "As for the threshold to becoming a Grandmaster, there was a saying that went around the martial world some years ago..."
"What saying?"
Wu Shuangren looked curious.
Wu Dongrong spoke each word distinctly:
"Slay a First Rank like butchering a dog!"
'Monsters' Ran Rampant
"Slay a First Rank like butchering a dog!"
Hearing those domineering words, Wu Shuangren's face filled with longing.
"How many people can a Grandmaster fight alone?"
He asked the question that netizens had most often asked him in the past.
Wu Dongrong couldn't help laughing when he heard it. "How could anyone say for certain? It depends on the conditions. Are they fighting on foot or horseback? Are they facing martial artists or ordinary soldiers? Are they wearing armor? Do they have bows or crossbows?"
Wu Shuangren laughed too, reflecting that even a professional like him had asked a silly question.
"Still, there have been plenty of battles in this world where a few fought against many. Take the prince of Western Capital Prefecture, for example. He once led eighteen riders against ten thousand Jurchen cavalry and routed them. He personally slew over a thousand horsemen in battle!"
So said Wu Dongrong.
"He slew a thousand horsemen in battle all by himself?!"
Wu Shuangren's eyes went wide.
"The Prince of the Western Capital was born with divine strength and extraordinary martial skill. At seventeen, he could already lift a ding with one hand. The brothers in the frontier army all respectfully call him the Hegemon-King!"
Reverence appeared on Wu Dongrong's face as he spoke of the man.
Wu Shuangren asked uncertainly, "How much did the ding he lifted weigh?"
Wu Dongrong said, "Dings are ritual vessels. Their weight is fixed: nine hundred and ninety-nine jin."
"..."
Wu Shuangren knew that ancient weights differed from modern ones, but a jin in this world was roughly the same as a jin in modern society in his previous life.
In other words, the Prince of the Western Capital had been able to lift a weight of a thousand jin at seventeen.
With one hand!
Was that something a fucking carbon-based life-form could do?
Wu Dongrong had wanted to tell his son interesting stories from his time in the army before, but Wu Shuangren had never been interested. Rarely asked by his son about such things, he was eager to talk and continued with another example:
"For example, there's a general of the Zhao Clan who rode a white horse and carried a silver spear. He once fought his way in and out of an army of ten thousand seven times, all by himself! He was facing one of Tubo's most elite infantry units. Every soldier wore armor, and there was no shortage of formidable martial artists in their ranks.
"In that battle, General Zhao became one with his spear, moving through the battle formation like a roaming dragon. Afterward, the world came to call him the Dragon General!"
Wu Shuangren remained dumbstruck.
In his previous life, Zhao Yun fighting his way in and out seven times was a fabrication from a historical romance, but the Dragon General of this world really existed!
Wu Shuangren had thought this world had no supernatural powers, so an individual's fighting strength couldn't be too exaggerated.
He had never expected "monsters" to be running rampant everywhere!
This only strengthened his resolve to learn martial arts.