It was a two-courtyard residence.
The open ground of the Outer Courtyard was scattered with wooden poles, stone locks, and an assortment of Weapons like sabers, spears, swords, and halberds.
The sound of shouts rising and falling one after another washed over him.
Seven or eight men were training on the blue brick ground. Their bronze-colored bodies glistened under the scorching sun, and the muffled thuds of stone locks hitting the earth sent a numbing vibration through the soles of one's feet.
In a corner, a middle-aged man sat on a grandmaster's chair.
He wore a faded brown short coat, and his exposed arms were corded with muscle, covered in old scars of varying shades, resembling the gnarled roots of an ancient tree.
A dark, heavy iron ruler rested across his lap. This was none other than Zhou Liang.
The lean man approached and said in a low voice, "Master, someone is here to become a disciple."
Zhou Liang's gaze swept over Chen Qing. "Where are you from? How old are you?"
Chen Qing quickly cupped his fist. "This junior is Chen Qing, from Mute Bay. I am seventeen this year. I have long admired Master Zhou's reputation and have come specifically to ask you to take me as a disciple."
Zhou Liang picked up the iron ruler from his lap. "From a family of Fishermen?"
"Yes," Chen Qing replied respectfully.
Zhou Liang reached out and pinched his shoulder blades. His palm, as coarse as iron sand, suddenly squeezed. Chen Qing grimaced in pain but forced himself not to make a sound.
"Your bones haven't fully set, and your tendons have some resilience. You can be trained."
Zhou Liang hefted the iron ruler in his hand. "Do you know what this is?"
Chen Qing endured the pain. "An iron ruler."
"Correct, an iron ruler."
Zhou Liang said slowly, "It measures things, and it measures men. It measures your bones, your courage, and how many feet of iron your flesh can withstand."
Chen Qing immediately declared, "This disciple can endure hardship!"
"Quick-witted, I see."
Zhou Liang nodded slightly, his tone suddenly shifting. "Let me be blunt. I charge a gift for my teachings. If you fail to pay on time, don't blame my ruler for being merciless when I throw you out! Have you thought this through?"
He wasn't teaching martial arts for charity; he had to make a living, after all.
"I have!" Chen Qing replied in a deep voice, immediately taking out the silver he had prepared and presenting it.
"This silver is enough for three months of your gift."
Zhou Liang weighed it in his palm before tucking it away. "Starting today, you'll stay in the courtyard. As for how much skill you can develop, that will depend on your own fortune."
Chen Qing cupped his fist. "This disciple will certainly work myself to the bone and train diligently, and I will not disappoint you, Master!"
'The path of Martial Arts... I've finally taken the first step.'
Zhou Liang waved his hand. "If you can develop some real skill, making a living won't be hard."
Most poor disciples who learned martial arts were just looking for a way to secure a livelihood. Truly making a name for oneself? That was as hard as ascending to the heavens.
Zhou Liang picked up his teacup and took a sip. "Sun Shun, take Chen Qing for a tour and explain the courtyard's rules."
"Yes!"
A burly man with a simple and honest face walked over in response.
"My name is Sun Shun. From now on, I'm your Third Senior Brother."
Sun Shun grinned. "Come on, your senior brother will show you around."
Sun Shun led Chen Qing on a tour around the not-so-large courtyard.
The front courtyard was the training ground, and the back courtyard was the master's residence—no entry without permission.
It had a storeroom, a dining hall, and a bathhouse. Small as it was, it had all the essentials.
"We don't have many rules here, but a few of them are ironclad," Sun Shun said seriously.
"First, before you've graduated, you are not to use the name of our school outside, and you are absolutely forbidden from causing trouble."
"Second, whether you're crashing a rival's school, challenging someone at their turf, or just sparring, you must first announce your affiliation and reveal your style."
"Third, only when seeking revenge or raiding another school are you allowed to not reveal your style or announce your affiliation."
"Fourth, respect the master and the teachings. Harming fellow disciples is strictly forbidden!"
Chen Qing stood by and listened, committing each of these rules to memory.
"Come on, let's go get you a set of training clothes."
Finally, Sun Shun took him to the storage room and pulled out a faded set of coarse cloth clothes. The dense stitching at the cuffs showed that it had been mended many times.
A short while later, Zhou Liang, having finished his noon meal, sauntered over. "For a beginner, the foundation is the most critical. For the next few days, I will instruct you personally."
A warmth spread through Chen Qing's heart, and he nodded emphatically. "Thank you, Master!"
He was full of curiosity and anticipation for the Martial Arts of this world.
'Is it really as magical as the stories from my past life?'
"Before learning Martial Arts, you must first understand what true Martial Arts are."
Zhou Liang led him to a row of wooden poles and said in a deep voice, "Martial Arts, in the vernacular of the Jianghu, is called the 'Guazi Sect.' Street performers are often what we call 'Xing Gua Zi,' which is fake stuff. This kind of martial art is required to be flashy and exciting, all for show."
"Though these moves look impressive, they violate all the taboos of True Martial Arts. They're only good for fooling ignorant country folk. A genuine 'Sharp Hook,' on the other hand, wouldn't attract any spectators at all."
"Because true Martial Arts are Killing Techniques."
Zhou Liang's tone was calm, without the slightest ripple of emotion.
But in Chen Qing's heart, waves were stirring.
'Killing Techniques!'
'This is exactly what I want to learn.'
'After all, in a world like this, learning Fancy Boxing and Embroidery Kicks is completely useless.'
Zhou Liang continued, "The Foundation Establishment of martial arts training lies first in Nourishing Qi and Blood. Bone Marrow Cleansing and Posture and Qi Flow are both methods to strengthen them. Only when your Qi and Blood are filled to their peak can you knock open the gate to Manifest Force."
"Watch closely."
Zhou Liang suddenly leaped onto a Meihua Pole, his withered body surprisingly as nimble as an ape's.
He assumed a peculiar stance: his left arm extended forward like an ape embracing the moon, his right fist drawn back like a leopard hiding its claws. His legs were slightly bent in a half-squat, and his entire body radiated a tense, coiled energy, ready to spring.
"The Long Arm Pile Skill takes its inspiration from 'Ape Arm Reaching the Heavens,'" Zhou Liang's voice suddenly boomed. "Crown of the head suspended, tailbone centered, waist relaxed, hips seated as if on an empty stool..."
"Now you try."
"Yes, Master!"
Chen Qing mimicked him and stepped onto the wooden pole, but the world immediately started to spin.
This seemingly simple posture actually required every muscle in his body to twist like hemp ropes, all straining against each other.
He fell off in less than three breaths, scraping his elbow and drawing blood on the blue bricks.
'This Long Arm Pile Skill isn't so simple!'
Panting heavily, Chen Qing asked, "Master, about what you just said... Qi and Blood, breaking through, reaching Manifest Force..."
Zhou Liang explained, "Martial arts training is divided into two processes: one is accumulation, and the other is breaking through."
"Posture training and endurance drills all serve to nourish your Qi and Blood. When your Qi and Blood reach a peak, you can attempt to break through, elevating your strength. Cultivating my Long Arm Fist to the Perfection Realm allows for three breakthroughs, into Manifest Force, Dark Force, and Transmutation Force, respectively."
"Each breakthrough brings a world-shattering transformation for a martial artist. However, the risk of failure is also great and will cause a certain amount of damage to the body. The later breakthroughs are progressively more difficult."
Upon hearing this, Chen Qing instantly understood.
'Isn't this 'breaking through' just overcoming a bottleneck?'
'If I want to succeed, don't I have to complete the first breakthrough within three months?'
At this thought, he couldn't help but ask again, "Master, is the success rate for the first breakthrough high?"
Zhou Liang said flatly, "For an ordinary disciple, it's about twenty to thirty percent. The better your Root Bone, the better your aptitude, and the wealthier your family, the higher the success rate."
When Chen Qing heard this, his heart sank.
'The success rate is that low?'
'And this is just the *first* breakthrough!'
'Manifest Force, Dark Force, and Transmutation Force obviously require three breakthroughs.'
"My Long Arm Fist involves Inner Cultivation through Pile Skill and external training through its Fighting Method. Only when the internal and external are unified does it become the true Long Arm Fist."
Zhou Liang said flatly, "You'll start with the Pile Skill. Once you've tempered your Qi and Blood to a certain degree, I will teach you the Long Arm Fist's Fighting Method."
"Yes!"
Chen Qing took a deep breath and stepped onto the wooden pole again.
In an instant, a sharp, searing pain erupted from the soles of his feet and shot through his entire body like lightning.
He clenched his jaw, veins popping on his temples as beads of sweat rolled down his face. Yet his body remained as immovable as a Pan Stone, holding the contorted posture without a tremor.
Time passed slowly in agony.
Chen Qing felt as if his lungs were being scorched by a branding iron. Every breath carried the tang of blood. His legs trembled on the pole like a sieve shaking chaff, yet his toes dug desperately into the surface, his knuckles turning white.
After nearly half an hour, his coarse cloth training clothes were soaked through with sweat, clinging unpleasantly to his body.
Just then, a golden light suddenly flashed in his mind:
[Heaven Rewards Diligence, Success is Inevitable]
[Basic Arm Extension Stance (1/500)]
The Minor Achievement, Great Success, and Perfection of the Long Arm Pile Skill corresponded to the three Realms of Manifest Force, Dark Force, and Transmutation Force.
Chen Qing wiped the sweat from his forehead and muttered to himself, "Other people need to break through bottlenecks to advance in their martial arts, but as long as I train diligently, I'm guaranteed to succeed in my breakthroughs."
According to Zhou Liang, ordinary people only had a twenty to thirty percent chance, but Chen Qing was different. As long as he cultivated, success was guaranteed.
This was the extraordinary nature of his Fate Plate.
Heaven Rewards Diligence, success is inevitable.
Chen Qing was instantly motivated and began to cultivate diligently.
Around noon, while the other disciples in the courtyard were resting and chatting in small groups, he was the only one still repeating the tedious posture training.
A few of his fellow disciples came over to greet him. He exchanged a few words with them before quickly immersing himself in his Cultivation again.
In the afternoon, the courtyard was filled with the sounds of panting and exertion.
After another round of practicing Long Arm Fist, Chen Qing felt as if his entire body had fallen apart, sore and weak.
With every step, it felt as if he were treading on soft cotton, his footing alarmingly unsteady.
He panted heavily, sweat trickling down from his temples.
Just then, the disciples all found corners sheltered from the wind to rest and took out the food they had been keeping warm in their clothes.
The temperature in the courtyard quickly stole the heat from their food.
Chen Qing's gaze swept over them. He saw the disciples from poor families huddled over, laboriously gnawing on frozen, rock-hard cornbread buns with a side of cold, pickled vegetables, every bite a struggle.
Meanwhile, those from better-off families took out tightly wrapped oil-paper packages, carefully unfolding them to reveal still-warm white flour flatbreads, and even a few slices of braised meat with congealed fat.
The faint, savory scent of meat wafted through the cold air, making one's empty stomach rumble all the more.
Chen Qing rubbed his stomach as a sharp spasm shot through it. He swallowed, his throat dry.
"Junior Brother Chen."
Sun Shun hurried over, holding two snow-white steamed buns that were fresh from the steamer and still giving off steam. "It's your first day, so you probably didn't bring any food, right? The courtyard provides some food before the morning practice to tide everyone over. Sometimes it's coarse grain flatbread, other times it's white flour steamed buns like these. It's all included in the gift. I saved two buns for you."
"It's freezing out here, and training burns a lot of energy. You can't do it on an empty stomach. Starting tomorrow, remember to go to the kitchen to get yours on time. If you use up a lot of energy and want to eat better, you'll have to bring your own food."
As he spoke, he thrust the steamed buns into Chen Qing's hands.
The Martial Arts Institute was not like a Martial Arts Hall; many of its disciples came from poor backgrounds.
Zhou Liang's actions showed that what he cared about probably wasn't those few taels of silver, but giving these people a path to survival, a glimmer of hope.
"Thank you, Senior Brother!"
Chen Qing's eyes lit up, and he hurriedly accepted them.
The steamed buns were warm and soft in his hands, and a sweet, wheaty aroma wafted up to his face.
Fine white flour, in the dead of winter, was a rare warmth and a luxury for someone like him from a family of Fishermen.
"Don't be a stranger. Hurry up and eat," Sun Shun said with a smile and a wave, then turned and walked away.
Chen Qing held the steamed buns, unable to resist any longer, and took a large bite.
The soft, scalding interior, with its sweet grain fragrance, instantly warmed his mouth.
He practically wolfed them down, stuffing both buns into his stomach in just a few bites.
A warmth rose from his stomach, dispelling some of the chill brought on by his exhaustion.
He leaned against a cold corridor pillar to catch his breath. The soreness in his body hadn't completely vanished, but the feeling of weakness and instability had lessened considerably.
Seeing that most of his fellow disciples were still resting or eating, Chen Qing took a deep breath, straightened his back, and returned to the wooden poles.
He knew that for someone like him, who possessed the [Heaven Rewards Diligence] Fate Plate, he had to put in more sweat than anyone else.
Again and again he practiced, and soon his clothes were completely soaked with sweat.
He continued until dusk fell, and he was the only one left in the courtyard.
[Basic Arm Extension Stance (5/500)]
...