Breaking Limits in Martial Arts: Grinding Your Way to Becoming a Martial Saint in a Chaotic Era

Zhao Yan stretched out his palm, slowly clenched his fist, and his knuckles made a few soft cracking sounds.

"Ming Jin is hard Jin, it is whole Jin. When you throw a punch, your muscles and bones resonate together, the power rises from the ground, passes through your waist and hips, reaches your shoulders, and is delivered to your fist. All the power in your body is twisted into one, and you throw it out with a bang, crisp and clean, without holding back any force."

"Like a fully drawn bow, the bowstring still vibrates even after the arrow is released."

As he spoke, he casually threw a punch.

"Snapped!"

The fist exploded in the air with a crisp sound, like a whip being lashed out.

The disciples who were nearby were startled and took a half step back.

Zhao Yan withdrew his fist, his expression unchanged.

"What are the characteristics of Ming Jin? It is crispness, solidity, and cleanliness. When it strikes a person, it hurts the skin and flesh, and the bones vibrate."

He continued, "Above the obvious strength is the hidden strength."

"Hidden strength is not brute force, but a continuous and inexhaustible force between the muscles, bones, and skin. To reach this stage, one must have mastered stance training. The stance becomes a unified whole, and the qi and blood are full as if the tide is overflowing. When you throw a punch, it may not seem heavy, but the force can penetrate into the internal organs."

He raised his hand and gently patted the wooden dummy beside him.

The sound was a soft "smack," as if it were just a casual slap.

But the wooden stake, as thick as a bowl, suddenly trembled, and the stake made a muffled "creak" sound, as if it had cracked from the inside.

"What are the characteristics of hidden strength? It is penetrating, continuous, and has a lingering force. When it strikes a person, the skin and flesh do not hurt, and the bones do not break, but the internal organs feel as if they have been squeezed, making it difficult to breathe and exert strength."

"Explicit force injures the skin and flesh, while implicit force injures the internal organs."

The disciples looked at each other, some unconsciously touching their chests.

"After hidden strength comes neutralizing strength. Neutralizing strength is the highest level of power. When you reach this stage, your stance training is perfected, your Qi flows freely throughout your body, and you can control the release and release of power at will. A punch can be hard or soft, overt or covert, all in a single thought."

He picked up a bowl of water and splashed it into the air.

In the instant the water splashed, he struck out with his palm.

No sound.

The water droplets seemed to hit an invisible wall, suddenly swirling back and splashing onto the ground, where they gathered into a puddle.

"What are the characteristics of neutralizing force? It is neutralization, borrowing, and doing as one pleases. When the opponent's force comes at you, you can neutralize it. When you unleash your own force, you can borrow the opponent's momentum. When you reach this level, your whole body becomes a unified whole, and every part of you is a fist."

The disciples were dumbfounded and dared not utter a sound.

Zhao Yan took the cloth Chen Wang handed him, wiped his hands, and his tone returned to normal.

"Ming Jin, An Jin, and Hua Jin are the three levels of martial arts. Beyond that, it's not something you should be worrying about now. If your stance training isn't correct and your Qi and blood aren't abundant, thinking about those things is just building castles in the air."

He glanced at the disciples present and said in a calm tone, "Most of you haven't even touched the threshold of Ming Jin yet, so don't think about anything else. Just stand still and practice your stance properly, that's better than anything else."

The disciples all lowered their heads, not daring to utter a sound.

Xu Qing listened intently.

Brother Chen Wang had also said these things in bits and pieces, but when they came from Master's mouth, they carried a completely different weight.

Like scattered beads, suddenly strung together with a thread, the stance training, qi and blood, obvious strength, hidden strength, and neutralizing strength are clearly defined, layer by layer.

As he was thinking, Zhao Yan's gaze suddenly swept over.

Just one glance.

Xu Qing felt as if she were being watched by a tiger.

That gaze wasn't heavy, but it was like two knives, cutting him open from head to toe, revealing everything between his bones.

The hairs on his body stood on end, and his back felt cold, as if someone had poured a bucket of cold water on him in the dead of winter.

Zhao Yan's gaze lingered on him for only a moment. So brief that even the disciples beside him didn't notice.

But Xu Qing felt that one breath was as long as a lifetime.

Zhao Yan withdrew his gaze, his face expressionless, and continued lecturing.

The voice was calm and unhurried, as if nothing had just happened.

Xu Qing stood at the very back, her heart pounding like a drum.

He wasn't sure what his master had seen through, but he knew that his master's eyes were too sharp to hide anything.

Zhao Yan spoke for another fifteen minutes, then waved his hand and said, "That's all for today. Think it over carefully, don't just stand there without using your brains."

The disciples dispersed one by one.

Zhao Yan walked slowly towards the backyard with his hands behind his back. After a few steps, he suddenly stopped and looked back.

His gaze fell on Xu Qing for only a moment before he looked away.

Then he left.

Xu Qing stood there, his palms sweaty.

Does Master know that I killed Liu San?

How is this possible?!

But the master's last glance was full of meaning, clearly indicating that he had seen something.

Xu Qing's heart was pounding.

Will my master punish me? Will he kick me out of the martial arts school?

He took a deep breath and forced himself to calm down.

The master didn't say anything, didn't ask anything, maybe he just glanced at me and I was overthinking it.

......

As soon as his master left, the training ground became lively again, but Xu Qing felt that the atmosphere around him was not quite right.

His fellow students walked by, and their gazes towards him changed. It wasn't the envy and jealousy they had shown before, but rather—mockery.

Wu Mingyuan and his group looked at him with the same indifference and disdain as before, as if he were a stranger or something that had already been used up.

"Have you heard? The news from the inner courtyard is that Xu Qing, with his average to below-average aptitude, has reached the limit of Ming Jin (明劲) and can't even get close to An Jin (暗劲)."

"Really? And his progress now..."

"What's the use of rapid progress? If your foundation isn't strong enough, you'll get stuck at the Ming Jin stage. It's like a well; no matter how hard you dig, if there's no water at the bottom, digging any deeper is pointless."

"Isn't it a waste for the martial arts school to feed him meat and give him medicinal soup?"

"Giving such good food to someone who hasn't even reached the Dark Force level is just a waste of money."

The two senior brothers walked past Xu Qing without deliberately lowering their voices; in fact, they spoke louder on purpose, as if they were speaking specifically to him.

Qin Liang came over from the side, patted Xu Qing on the shoulder, and said with a smile, "Junior Brother Xu, why are you only coming back now? You almost missed Master's instruction on stance training."

He had overheard their conversation, and his smile faded slightly before he smiled reassuringly again: "Don't pay any attention to those people. They're just sour grapes. If you can't do it, they certainly can't either."

Xu Qing smiled and said, "I didn't take it to heart."

He genuinely didn't take it to heart.

He knew that his martial arts skills relied not on innate talent, but on his innate destiny.

"That's good." Qin Liang moved closer and lowered his voice, "You don't need to pay any more attention to Wu Mingyuan and his ilk. They were so friendly to you before because they thought you were talented and useful. Now that they heard you can only reach the Ming Jin level, they've turned on you faster than flipping through a book. People like that aren't worth associating with."

Xu Qing nodded without saying anything.

Qin Liang added, "By the way, Liang Hu isn't coming. He went home yesterday and hasn't come back today. He's been here for three months now, and I heard he's completely given up training. He figured he couldn't train anyway, and it wouldn't be a waste of money."

Xu Qing's gaze shifted slightly.

Liang Hu, that honest and taciturn, thin figure. Quiet and diligent in his training, yet after three months, he had made little progress. His stance was unstable, his Five Elements Fist technique was unrecognizable, and he hadn't even scratched the surface of the basics.

Xu Qing recalled him squatting in the corner eating alone, the way he bowed his head and obeyed when Zhou Wen and Xu Qing ordered him around, and the way he stood in front of the wooden dummy, sweating as he practiced his boxing...

It's okay to leave.

Not everyone can stay in a martial arts school. The sooner you leave, the less trouble you'll have and the less money you'll waste.

He looked up and saw a new face on the training ground.

A dark-skinned, thin boy, about the same height as him, was awkwardly standing in a stance, wearing a half-new gray cloth outfit.

His legs weren't bent enough, his waist was slumped, and his whole body was crooked, like a tree branch bent by the wind.

Qin Liang glanced at him: "Oh, the new guy, his name is Sun Ping. He became an apprentice yesterday, I think he's from your Blackwater Bay area, do you know him?"

Xu Qing examined it carefully.

The boy turned his head to the side; his features looked somewhat familiar.

He recognized him.

Sun Ping. He was the same young man from the Sun family who had asked Benlei Martial Arts School if they accepted disciples earlier at the fish market.

A few days ago, Sun Ping's father had a stroke of good luck and caught a treasure fish. He also borrowed some money to send his son to learn martial arts.

Xu Qing stood still, watching him practice the stance.

His posture was wrong; his knees were bent too shallowly, his waist was slumped, and his shoulders were hunched, making him look like he was being tortured.

But he didn't stop. He gritted his teeth, his face trembled, and his legs shook, but he just wouldn't fall.

He suddenly remembered how he looked on his first day at the martial arts school.

That's how it was. Knowing nothing and clumsy, I stood on the training ground, my heart filled with trepidation and anticipation.

He observed for a few moments, then turned and went back to his room to change into his training clothes. He stepped onto the plum blossom stakes, assumed the stance, lowered his shoulders and elbows, tucked his chest and straightened his back, and focused his energy into his dantian. He completed the movements in one smooth and steady motion.

The sound of Sun Ping falling came from not far away. With a "thud," his knee hit the ground, and he hissed in pain.

Xu Qing did not turn around.