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

Deputy Chief Ma stared at Xu Qing for a long time.

His face was as white as paper, covered in tears and snot, and he was trembling like a leaf.

He finally waved his hand impatiently.

The two burly men released their grip, and Xu Qing collapsed to the ground like a lump of mud.

"Get lost." Deputy Gang Leader Ma uttered only one word.

Xu Qing still held the identity of a disciple of the Zhao Family Martial Arts School. Without evidence, he wouldn't dare do anything to Xu Qing in broad daylight. Beating him up was one thing, but killing or crippling him was another.

Upon hearing this, Xu Qing felt as if he had been granted a pardon. He scrambled to his feet, his pants soaked, but he didn't bother to cover them up. He staggered into the depths of the alley without daring to look back.

Deputy Chief Ma watched his retreating figure and spat.

He is certain that it is not Xu Qingqian.

That coward, he hasn't even reached the Ming Jin level yet. Look at how scared he was just now, he probably peed his pants. A coward like that wouldn't dare to kill anyone even if you gave him ten lives.

"Let's go." Deputy Chief Ma waved his hand and led his men away.

The chatter on the street didn't subside.

"So he was just bragging." At the entrance of the grocery store, Granny Wang stood with her hands on her hips, her voice loud enough to be heard halfway down the street. "I really thought he had someone kill Chen Jiang and rid the neighborhood of a menace. Turns out, he was just trying to make himself look good."

"Look at him, he's such a coward, he's scared to death, and he still wants to play the hero." The cloth shop owner covered her mouth and laughed. "He even said that Young Master Wu would stand up for him, but Young Master Wu doesn't even acknowledge that. This isn't patting himself on the back, it's jumping into a cesspool."

"Tsk tsk tsk, he's completely disgraced the Xu family." The barber shook his head. "This kid, he seemed quite clever when he was little, how come he's gotten worse as he's grown up?"

The crowd slowly dispersed, leaving only the puddle of urine on the ground, which slowly evaporated in the sun.

Xu Yan stood at the alley entrance, stunned.

She carried five taels of silver in her pocket, having come to her sister-in-law's house to express her gratitude. After her sister-in-law explained the situation last time, she and Xu Cheng discussed it: no matter what, Xu Qing had been a great help this time. Although her sister-in-law was a bit loose-lipped, the child was kind-hearted.

They discussed giving five taels of silver as a thank-you gift and to give their sister-in-law's family an explanation.

She had just arrived at the street where Xu Qing's shop was located when she saw the scene at the street corner.

She saw Xu Qing being pinned against the wall, heard him crying out "It wasn't me!" and "It has nothing to do with me!" She saw the urine stains on his trousers and the wet patch on the floor.

Her hands began to tremble; the silver felt uncomfortable against her chest.

So it wasn't Xu Qing after all.

All those rumors, all those boasting, all those smug displays of pride, were all fake, fabricated, and he was just putting on a show for himself.

She almost gave away the five taels of silver and almost thanked the wrong person.

Xu Yan stood at the street corner, watching Xu Qing's retreating figure. She opened her mouth, wanting to call out to him. Not to scold him, but to check if he was hurt. The boy must be too ashamed to face anyone now. She wanted to comfort him and tell him, "It's okay."

But Xu Qing ran too fast, as if a ghost was chasing him.

He heard Xu Yan's voice; the words "Aqing" drifted from the alleyway, and he paused for a moment.

His face turned even redder, from the base of his neck all the way to the tips of his ears, so red it looked like it was about to bleed. He didn't dare turn around, didn't dare look at her, gritted his teeth, and plunged headfirst into his family's clothing shop.

Xu Yan's outstretched hand hovered in mid-air before slowly lowering it.

She sighed, turned around, and went back to the steamed bun shop.

Xu Cheng was kneading dough when he saw her return looking somewhat dejected. He paused, startled, and asked, "What's wrong? Does sister-in-law think the money isn't enough?"

Xu Yan shook her head, her eyes a little red, and recounted what she had just seen.

Xu Cheng's expression changed repeatedly, from doubt to shock, from shock to anger, from anger to helplessness, and finally only exhaustion remained.

"...Never mind." He only said two words, then lowered his head again and continued kneading the dough, one stroke after another, his movements much slower than before.

Deputy Chief Ma returned to Qingjiao Hall, leaned back in his armchair, picked up his teacup, and took a large gulp.

He didn't plan to investigate Chen Jiang's matter any further.

Firstly, the trail went cold. Xu Qing's lead was fake, and Wu Mingyuan's side had also been completely wiped clean. To investigate further, we would have to search the entire West City, which would be time-consuming and laborious, and there was no guarantee of finding anything.

Secondly, he never really liked Chen Jiang. That brother-in-law was good for nothing but drinking, gambling, and womanizing; he'd caused a lot of trouble by relying on his brother's name. His death was no big deal; it was one less menace to cause him.

Thirdly, the person who actually made the move was a master of subtle, hidden strength techniques. He didn't want to provoke such a person, nor could he afford to. If he did, he'd probably lose his life.

Deputy Chief Ma put down his teacup and said to his trusted aide, "That's the end of Chen Jiang's matter. Tell the men to stop investigating."

The confidant nodded and withdrew.

Deputy Gang Leader Ma rubbed his temples and let out a long sigh of relief: "If we keep making a scene over my good-for-nothing brother-in-law, it'll only cause bigger trouble for the gang. It's not worth it."

Chen Jiang's death was left unresolved. No one mentioned it again, no one investigated it. Like a pebble thrown into a river, the ripples subsided, and the water returned to its calm.

Only Xu Qing's flushed face and the wet patch on his trouser leg became the subject of laughter among the neighbors.

Xu Qing didn't dare to go out for several days, and he didn't even dare to go to the martial arts school, for fear of being pointed at and talked about.

......

In the blink of an eye, Xu Qing has been at the martial arts school for twenty days.

Early that morning, before dawn, he was the only one on the training ground.

The fog was thick, like a thin veil covering the plum blossom stakes. Dew dripped down the stakes and onto the yellow soil, forming small dark spots.

Xu Qing stood on the plum blossom stakes, feet apart, shoulders relaxed and elbows drooping, breathing long and even. His clothes were wet with dew, clinging to his body, feeling cool, but he was completely unaware.

He's been training harder than anyone else these days.

He gets up before dawn every day and continues practicing his boxing even after everyone else has gone to sleep, without fail, rain or shine. Sometimes, when Qin Liang gets up in the middle of the night to urinate, he can still be seen practicing his stance in the yard.

The pile frame stands firmly, like a tree with deep roots, unmoved by wind or rain.

Suddenly, he felt a surge of heat rising from his lower abdomen.

It wasn't the warmth that rises from the stomach when drinking medicinal soup, but a heat that seeps from the very marrow of his bones, as if someone had lit a fire in his bone marrow.

The heat climbed up my spine, spreading all the way to my shoulders, arms, and fingertips, then flowed down my thighs and into the soles of my feet.

Every pore on my body was emitting heat, as if I were being roasted over a fire.

His heart raced, his blood surged through his veins, and a fine layer of sweat rose on his skin, only to be evaporated by the heat from his body, only to reappear again, over and over.

The bones and tendons were crackling and popping. It wasn't the sound of bones breaking, but rather like a bowstring being drawn, each tendon being stretched, tightened, and stretched again.

From the ankle to the knee, from the knee to the hip, from the hip to the shoulder, all the way up, it's like a sleeping dragon suddenly waking up and turning over inside the body.

The progress of my stance training flashed through my mind—

【Three Talents Stance (Beginner): 99/100】

Just one last step.

The heat grew stronger and stronger, surging through his body like a tidal wave, wave after wave, each one more intense and higher than the last.

He felt like a sack stuffed full of air, ready to burst at any moment. Every muscle was bulging, every bone was burning hot, and even his teeth were grinding together.

Sudden--

With a loud "boom".

It felt like something exploded inside my body.

It wasn't pain, but a kind of indescribable sense of clarity.

It was as if a river channel that had been blocked for twenty days had finally been cleared, and all the heat found an outlet in an instant, surging out from the dantian, rushing along the meridians, and pouring into the limbs and bones.

Every joint was opened up, every meridian was cleared, and the flow of qi and blood in the body was unimpeded, like a river in spring overflowing its banks, vast and unstoppable.

His body felt light in that instant.

It's not a feeling of weakness, but rather a feeling of being freed from all shackles. Every joint is alive, every muscle is relaxed, yet not loose, with strength within the relaxation, like a fully drawn bowstring, ready to shoot a fatal arrow at any moment.

He clenched his fist—

"Crackling and popping!"

The joints emitted a series of crisp popping sounds, not the two or three sounds of before, but a long string, from the knuckles to the wrist, from the wrist to the elbow, from the elbow to the shoulder, all the way, like firecrackers being set off during the New Year.

One punch.

He didn't hit the wooden dummy; he just threw a punch at the air.

"Snapped!"

The fist exploded with a crisp sound, like a cracking whip.

The mist was rippled outwards, creating a visible wave that crashed against the courtyard wall two zhang away, then bounced back and brushed against his face, feeling cool and refreshing.

Muscles and bones resonated in unison.

This is Mingjin's logo.

He has entered the Ming Jin stage!

It all happened naturally, without any obstacles.

It is the bottleneck that has blocked countless martial artists. It is the hurdle that has kept so many people stuck for their entire lives, turning their hair white with exhaustion, and breaking their bones in the process.

It doesn't exist in him.