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

Xu Qing packed up the stakes, straightened his clothes, and went out the door.

Three men stood outside the courtyard wall.

The leader had a fierce look on his face, with an old scar running from his brow bone to the corner of his mouth; it was Song Ba. Next to him was He Jiu, and the other had his arms crossed, head tilted, a roguish grin on his face, exuding a nonchalant and contemptuous air.

Upon seeing He Jiu, Xu Qing's gaze shifted slightly.

He Jiu never revealed his identity openly, secretly running errands for the Giant Whale Gang while maintaining a clean public image. Now that he's standing openly with Song Ba, it's no longer a question of what the Giant Whale Gang is planning tonight.

"Let's go." Xu Qing's voice was calm, and her face was expressionless.

The three men were clearly surprised by his cooperation. They exchanged glances and then turned to lead the way.

Song Ba walked at the front, with He Jiu and the smirking man on either side, flanking Xu Qing in the middle.

Xu Qing didn't say anything more, just followed silently. The night wind blew from the river, chilling him as it entered his collar.

The Giant Whale Gang's hideout was at the eastern end of the bay, in what used to be the residence of the wealthy Old Man Zhou. It was a three-courtyard house with blue bricks and gray tiles, and the lintels were still carved with flowers, but most of the paint had peeled off, revealing the grayish-white wood underneath.

Two men with knives stood at the door. When they saw Song Ba arrive with his men, they pushed open the door from a distance.

The scene in the courtyard was just as Xu Qing had expected.

The doors to the main hall were wide open, and the room was brightly lit. Hong Tianhu sat in a grand chair, with five or six people standing behind him.

There were about a dozen people standing in the courtyard, some leaning against the pillars, others squatting on the steps, all holding weapons: knives, clubs, and chains, which gleamed coldly in the moonlight.

Xu Qing walked in and stood in the center of the courtyard.

Behind him, the gatekeeper came in, and the door closed behind Xu Qing with a creak, the latch falling shut as dullly as a coffin lid closing.

Hong Tianhu stood up from the armchair.

He was somewhat portly, wearing a worn silk robe. By his appearance alone, he didn't seem like a ruthless gang leader; in fact, he looked rather kind. But his eyes were different—like two blunt knives scraping against one's skin.

He walked to the door, looked Xu Qing up and down, his gaze sweeping from Xu Qing's face to his feet, and then back to his face, scrutinizing him twice.

"Xu Qing, did you kill Liu San and the others?" Hong Tianhu suddenly asked, his voice deep and carrying a sense of oppressive authority.

Xu Qing looked at him without saying a word.

The courtyard was extremely quiet; you could even hear the wind blowing through the eaves.

"Even if you don't say it, I know it's you." Hong Tianhu took two steps forward, his voice firm. "The timing and motive match up."

"You, a fisherman's son, instead of focusing on fishing, dared to kill someone." He shook his head, staring intently into Xu Qing's eyes, as if trying to find some answer within them. "Just because you practiced martial arts? You'd only been practicing for a few days then, right? What could you possibly have learned?"

He curled his lip into a contemptuous smile: "If I give you more time to train, and you really develop skills, do you think you'd dare kill me too?"

His smile vanished abruptly, and his voice turned icy: "I've been thinking about it—"

His gaze instantly turned icy: "I'm not giving you that chance."

With a wave of his hand.

The people in the courtyard gathered around. Footsteps thudded on the blue brick floor. A glint of a knife flashed in the moonlight, then disappeared again.

Xu Qing looked at them and suddenly felt a sense of peace. It wasn't numbness or resignation, but rather the peace of looking down on ants from a high place.

He remembered Liu San kicking his second uncle, remembered his second uncle coughing while clutching his chest, his sallow face, forcing a smile. He remembered his second aunt's red-rimmed eyes, the way she seemed about to say something but then swallowed it back. He remembered Xiuer saying, "Brother, you should arrest all those bad guys from now on, so they can't bully people anymore!"

He also remembered Old Zhou's eyes, as deep and dry as a well. He remembered Chen Laosi's broken leg. He remembered the despair and wailing of Chen Laosi's family...

In this world, for those at the bottom, standing up straight is the original sin!

But Xu Qing insisted on living standing up!

The first person lunged forward. The short knife was aimed straight for his throat, swift and ruthless.

Xu Qing dodged to the side and punched him in the chest. The force of tenfold combined was so great that the man didn't even utter a sound before he was sent flying backward, crashing into a pillar with a thud, and then sliding down, motionless.

The courtyard was in an uproar.

The remaining men swarmed forward, their knives and sticks flashing, raining blows down on them.

Instead of retreating, Xu Qing stepped forward, plunging into the crowd and unleashing a barrage of punches. His moves—the Crushing Fist, the Cannon Fist, the Chopping Fist, the Drilling Fist, the Horizontal Fist—were all part of the Five Elements Fist, each aimed to kill, leaving no survivors, swift and decisive.

Punches landed squarely, the sound of bones cracking echoing through the courtyard like dry twigs being snapped. Screams, the cracking of bones, and the dull thuds of bodies hitting the ground mingled together, reverberating in the night wind.

A strong stench of blood filled the courtyard, mingling with the chill of the early winter night, seeping into people's nostrils and making them want to vomit.

In the blink of an eye, the courtyard was littered with people lying on the ground.

They lay scattered about, in various postures: some curled up, some looking up, some lying on their sides, some face down... They all had one thing in common: they were completely silent.

Hong Tianhu stood at the entrance of the main hall, his face contorted, as if he had been slapped so hard his features were crooked. His hands trembled, clenching into fists and then relaxing, clenching and relaxing repeatedly. The fear in his eyes was deeper than the waters of Blackwater Bay.

He figured it out.

Xu Qing is Ming Jin.

It wasn't the awkwardness of someone just starting out, but a solid, steady, and deadly force. Every punch landed precisely on vital points, with not a bit more or less power.

Hong Tianhu's pupils contracted again and again. His legs went weak, and he almost knelt down, only managing to stand up by holding onto the door frame.

In just over twenty days, he went from zero to a level of proficiency. He had never seen anything like it in his entire life.

He regretted it; he shouldn't have called them over so hastily.

He was also a Ming Jin (a type of martial arts master), and it took him more than half a year to break through to that level back then. But now, his body had long been weakened by wine and women. He knew in his heart that he was no match for Xu Qing and couldn't even withstand a single punch.

Xu Qingchao walked over to him.

His steps were neither hurried nor slow, each step on the blue bricks felt like stepping on Hong Tianhu's heart, making him breathless.

The moonlight illuminated half of his face, making it appear both bright and dark. Drops of blood dripped from his hands, falling onto the blue brick floor and gleaming a dark red in the moonlight.

"No...don't kill me..." Hong Tianhu's voice changed, becoming shrill and hoarse, as if someone was choking him. "I'll talk...I'll tell you something...please spare my life..."

Xu Qing looked at him without saying a word.

"Your parents...it's about your parents!" Hong Tianhu was terrified. He scrambled off the threshold, knelt on the ground, and kowtowed repeatedly. "Your parents...your family's awning boat...it wasn't capsized by the wind..."

Xu Qing stopped in her tracks.

In the moonlight, his face was like a stone sculpture, devoid of any expression. His eyebrows didn't move, his eyes didn't blink, his lips were tightly pressed together, and even his breathing seemed to have stopped.

But those eyes changed. Like a well that had been dry for a long time, suddenly a stone was thrown in; you couldn't see any water splashing, but you could hear the echoes from deep within.

Hong Tianhu swallowed hard, beads of sweat dripping down his face. His voice was urgent and broken: "Five years ago, the magistrate's third son, Lin Mu, led a group on a lake excursion. I... I was on one of the boats as an attendant. The third son's boat was big, and your boat was small. Your awning boat was blocking the way... The third son thought it was in the way and ordered us to ram it... It capsized by ramming... It wasn't an accidental capsizing by the wind..."

His voice grew softer and softer, as if he were begging for mercy, or perhaps confessing, but more than anything, it was filled with fear.

"The person behind the Giant Whale Gang... is the Third Young Master..." Hong Tianhu lay on the ground, his forehead pressed against the cold brick surface, the bloodstains on the brick smearing his forehead, turning it red. "The annual tribute money ended up in his mansion... I was just a gofer, doing things for him... Please spare me... I've told you everything..."

Xu Qing looked down at him for a long time. So long that Hong Tianhu thought he was hesitating, that he was softening, that he still had a chance to live.

Five years ago, Xu Qing's parents went out fishing and never returned.

Later, the officials arrived and said there had been an accident; the boat had capsized and people had drowned. My second uncle went to identify the body, and when he returned, his eyes were red all night.

He was young then and didn't understand what an "accident" meant.

Now he understands.

Accidents aren't natural disasters, they're man-made. Someone gets annoyed that they're blocking the way, too lazy to go around them, and kicks them aside. If grass is blocking the path, just step on it. Who cares how many blades of grass are crushed underfoot?

"Who else knew I was coming here tonight?" Xu Qing squatted down, her voice very soft.

Hong Tianhu was stunned for a moment. Before he could even process what was happening, his mouth had already started to move: "Gone, gone... All these people in the yard, all... all of them..." He glanced at the corpses scattered on the ground, and his voice choked.

"Does Lin Mu know about my affairs?" Xu Qing looked at Hong Tianhu and asked again, her voice still so soft.

"I don't know... I don't know." Hong Tianhu shook his head frantically, his head bobbing like a rattle drum, the fat on his neck jiggling with each shake. "The Third Young Master only cares about money, nothing else matters. We subordinates don't dare report even the smallest things... He's never even heard of you, really, I swear—"

His voice trailed off.

Xu Qing raised his hand and threw a punch.

Tenfold force, a collapsing fist, strikes right between the eyebrows.

Hong Tianhu's pleas for mercy came to an abrupt halt!