It was past noon when he returned to the Martial Arts Hall.
Yang Jing took off his shirt and began to temper his qi and blood.
As he tempered his qi and blood, a panel appeared before his eyes—
[Mountain-Shattering Fist: Lesser Mastery (1/500)]
With his breakthrough to the Mingjin Realm, his Mountain-Shattering Fist had also advanced from the Entry-level stage to the Lesser Mastery stage.
Yang Jing first practiced a set of basic fist forms in the courtyard, a thin layer of sweat beading on his forehead.
Then he walked over to the stone locks, took a deep breath, and bent down to steadily lift a fifty-jin weight.
The bear meat he'd eaten for lunch was truly nourishing. A warm current swirled in his Dantian, making it feel much easier to lift the stone lock than usual. Even the circulation of his qi and blood was exceptionally smooth.
Yang Jing then switched to a stone barbell, pressing it onto his shoulders as he did deep squats. With each rise, he could almost feel the energy from the bear meat spreading through his muscles and bones. The usual soreness was dissolved by a gentle force, replaced by a comfortable warmth that spread through his entire body.
After all that, his warm-up was complete, and Yang Jing began to practice the Mountain-Shattering Fist again.
"Let your breath sink. Don't let it float in your chest."
A deep, steady voice sounded from behind. Sun Yong had come out of the inner courtyard at some point and was now standing behind Yang Jing, his gaze fixed on his movements. "The Lesser Mastery stage of the Mountain-Shattering Fist emphasizes that 'strength originates from the spine, and the fist follows the qi.' When you threw that last punch, your waist and hips didn't twist enough. The force was scattered."
"Greetings, Master." Yang Jing hurriedly bowed in respect.
He was a formal disciple now, so according to the rules, he should address him as Master.
Sun Yong nodded. Dressed in black, he had a profound and steady presence. With his hands clasped behind his back, he gave another slight nod and said, "Now that you have entered the Mingjin Realm, you must formally begin practicing the second stage of the Mountain-Shattering Fist—the Lesser Mastery stage."
Yang Jing listened intently.
Sun Yong continued, "This level focuses on 'strength permeating the muscles.' You must integrate your Inner Strength into your techniques, so your punches have an edge and leave a mark on whatever they touch..."
As Yang Jing listened to Sun Yong's explanation, his mind raced, carefully pondering every detail.
Sun Yong stepped forward, took his wrist, and guided him back into a proper stance. "Watch closely. When you punch, first sink your shoulders and drop your elbows, letting your qi enter your Dantian. Let your Inner Strength surge up your spine and explode from your shoulders—yes, just like that!"
He demonstrated personally, breaking down each movement with perfect clarity.
From the key points of force generation to the pathways of qi and blood circulation, his explanation was meticulous.
Yang Jing focused and listened intently, committing every point to memory.
The other disciples nearby who had not yet achieved Inner Strength watched with envy. This was the difference between a formal disciple and a Registered Disciple.
Once you became a formal disciple, you were truly master and apprentice.
Sun Yong was far more serious and detailed in his teaching than he was with the Registered Disciples.
Yang Jing followed his instructions and felt the energy from the bear meat ignite within him. As he moved through the fist forms, every punch he threw cut through the air with a muffled WHUMP.
In the past, he would always feel his muscles and bones tighten at this stage, but today, everything was exceptionally smooth. The wind from his fists seemed to carry a faint hint of "mountain-shattering" intent.
The more he practiced, the more engrossed he became. The intense exercise rapidly broke down the nutrients from the bear meat, converting them into energy that fused with his body. It felt as if every inch of his muscle was cheering.
Seeing Yang Jing's focused expression as he practiced, even Sun Yong nodded slightly, a trace of approval flashing in his eyes.
After finishing the set, Yang Jing's breathing was a bit ragged, but he felt no fatigue. Instead, a sense of comfort spread throughout his body.
Sun Yong walked over and felt his shoulders, back, waist, and abdomen. The muscles and bones his fingertips touched were indeed not outstanding; his root and bone could only be considered inferior.
He withdrew his hand and sighed inwardly.
'It seems this kid's successful breakthrough into the Mingjin Realm was mostly just luck. With a root and bone like this, there's almost no hope of him breaking through to the Anjin Realm.'
"Hmm, your stance is a bit more stable," Sun Yong said, his tone turning flat. "But your foundation is ultimately your root and bone. Yours is poor, so you must practice even more diligently in the future. Don't slack off."
The sense of importance in his words had faded compared to before.
Yang Jing smiled and replied, "I understand. Thank you for your guidance, Master!"
Sun Yong nodded, offered a few more words of encouragement, and then turned to walk toward Lin Yue in the distance to begin instructing the Martial Arts Hall's genius.
In his eyes, the one who could truly carry the mantle of the Sun's Martial Arts Hall in the future was a genius with superior root and bone like Lin Yue.
After noticing that Lin Yue seemed to be interested in his daughter, Sun Ningxiang, he had even considered setting them up. If Lin Yue became his son-in-law, then even after he was gone, he wouldn't have to worry about the Martial Arts Hall or his daughter with Lin Yue around.
....
「Twilight descended.」
In a tavern in the south of the city, Lv Yang had just lifted the curtain to enter when he saw Zhou Lin and Zhang Kehan sitting in a corner, each with a gloomier expression than the last. They had barely touched the food and wine on the table.
"What's wrong?" Lv Yang pulled over a chair, sat down, and poured himself a cup of wine. "I just got back from picking up goods in the Prefecture City. I haven't even been home yet and came straight to find you, and this is the long face you greet me with?"
Last month, he had failed his second attempt to break through, injuring his vital energy and completely severing his hopes of reaching the Mingjin Realm. Defeated, he had slunk away from Sun's Martial Arts Hall to join his family's elders in the leather goods business.
Zhou Lin didn't answer. He shot a glare at the braised beef on the table and said in a stifled tone, "That kid, Yang Jing... he made it."
"Made what?" Lv Yang's hand, holding his wine cup, paused. He didn't understand.
"He broke through! To the Mingjin Realm!" Zhang Kehan gritted his teeth, his voice filled with an indescribable sense of frustration. "This morning, in the courtyard. The Hall Master said it himself. I also asked Senior Sister Qi Yun. That kid really achieved Inner Strength!"
Lv Yang burst out laughing with a PFFT. He slammed his cup on the table. "Are you two kidding me? Yang Jing? With his root and bone? It's way worse than any of ours. Him, reach the Mingjin Realm? Get real. That's a pretty funny joke, though, haha—"
As he spoke, he caught sight of Zhou Lin and Zhang Kehan's faces out of the corner of his eye.
There wasn't the slightest hint of a smile on either of their faces. The shock and indignation in their eyes couldn't be faked.
The smile on Lv Yang's face slowly froze. His heart dropped as if it had been struck by something heavy.
"You're... being serious?" His voice trembled slightly.
Zhou Lin nodded and slugged back a large gulp of wine, the liquid trickling down the corner of his mouth. "It's absolutely true. We were right there watching. He left a dent in a wooden stake with one punch. The Hall Master said it with his own mouth: he has entered the Mingjin Realm."
Leaving a dent in a wooden stake with one punch... If a blow like that landed on a person, it could probably knock them out instantly. Hit a vital spot, and it could even kill an ordinary person on the spot.
"Impossible..." Lv Yang muttered to himself, his brows knitting into a tight knot. His face turned ashen, and he looked more disgusted than if he'd swallowed a fly.
He clearly remembered that when Yang Jing used to trail after him, he couldn't even remember the most basic fist routines. What's more, Senior Sister Qi Yun had even rated his root and bone as "lowest of the low."
His own root and bone was far superior to Yang Jing's. If he couldn't make it, what right did that kid have?
An indescribable feeling clogged his chest—jealousy, resentment, and even a hint of inexplicable panic.
He remembered his own humiliating departure from the Martial Arts Hall, the disappointed sighs of his parents, and then thought of Yang Jing, now a formal disciple of the Hall Master, able to walk through Yuhe County with that prestigious title... The contrast stabbed at him like a needle, making it impossible to sit still.
"How could he possibly..." Lv Yang repeated, his voice full of disbelief. He gripped his wine cup so tightly his knuckles turned white.
The candlelight in the small tavern flickered, illuminating the three silent, grim faces.