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

Sun Ping led his men, knocking on doors one by one.

When the fishermen opened their doors and saw Sun Ping, they were all smiling. They wanted to call him "A-Ping" and ask him, "How's your martial arts training going in the city?"

But when they saw the book in his hand and the Fish Dragon Gang members behind him, everyone's faces changed.

The fishermen looked at him, and there was something in their eyes that made him uneasy.

Sun Ping could see it; it was a kind of disappointment, a disappointment that said, "How did you become like this?"

At first, Sun Ping was hesitant to look up at his fellow villagers, but after helping a few households, he quickly adapted.

After collecting the money, he returned to the Fish-Dragon Gang and handed the silver to Gang Leader Ding. Gang Leader Ding counted it, nodded in satisfaction, and tossed him a small piece: "Yours, five coins."

Five qian of silver.

Sun Ping took the silver coin. The coin wasn't heavy, but it weighed heavily on his heart.

His father worked from dawn till dusk pulling nets all day, earning only a few dozen coins, while he only went from house to house, said a few words, and received five coins.

He tucked the silver into his pocket and walked out of the Fish and Dragon Gang's courtyard.

The wind blew on his face, cool and refreshing, but a fire burned in his heart, making him feel hot all over.

After walking a few steps, he suddenly stopped.

He recalled the fishermen's eyes, their disappointment, their "How did you become like this?" look.

He crouched down, covered his face with his hands, and his shoulders trembled slightly. He wanted to cry, but couldn't. He wanted to tell himself, "You can't do this," but another voice was louder, clearer, and more powerful...

That's just how the world is.

The law of the jungle prevails.

He used to be weak, looked down upon, and bullied, without even the courage to fight back. Now, he has practiced martial arts, and although he hasn't broken through to the Ming Jin level yet, he is already much stronger than those fishermen.

He's stronger than them, has a harder fist, and is more knowledgeable. Why should he be like them? Why should he live a life of hunger and cold?

Why did he practice martial arts? It was to get ahead, to give his parents a better life, and to stop being trampled underfoot.

If he practices martial arts but ends up like those fishermen, then what's the point of all his training? Wouldn't all the money his parents saved by scrimping and saving to support his martial arts training have been wasted?

Sun Ping stood up, wiped his face, and took a deep breath.

He has no regrets.

Today, no one calls him "A-Ping" anymore. Everyone looks at him with disappointment, but even more so with fear.

His gaze swept over them, and no one dared to look up. His face turned cold, and his voice rose, causing those people to tremble uncontrollably.

He was actually somewhat fascinated by this feeling.

He strode towards home, his pace much faster than when he arrived.

A few days later, Sun Ping returned to the martial arts school.

Xu Qing saw him in the courtyard and paused for a moment.

Sun Ping was still the same Sun Ping, with his honest, round face, squinting eyes, and thin frame. He smiled and called out "Senior Brother Xu," just like before.

But Xu Qing felt something was wrong.

He couldn't say where it was.

Sun Ping's smile was still the same smile, and his voice was still the same voice, but beneath that smile and in that voice, there was something new that hadn't been there before.

Like a pool of water, the surface may look clear, but the bottom is already getting murky.

Xu Qing glanced at him but didn't think much of it.

He was busy himself, needing to refine the medicinal power of the Zhuangyuan Pill, improve his Sancai Zhuang, and handle official duties. With so many things weighing on him, he really didn't have much energy to figure out what others were thinking.

All he knew was that as long as Sun Ping remained the same Sun Ping, he would never change.

.......

Sun Ping trained even harder at the martial arts school than before, spending longer and longer periods in stance training and punching more and more often. His clothes were soaked with sweat, and his palms were chafed raw.

But he still couldn't cross that door.

However, he was no longer as anxious as before.

Because he had a way out.

The Fish and Dragon Gang gives him money every month, so he no longer has to worry about his family not being able to afford his tuition, or watching his parents wear tattered cotton-padded coats for the New Year. He's even considering whether to rent a small house in the county town and bring his parents to live with him.

As for Mingjin, he's not in a hurry; it's only a matter of time.

He believed in himself.

During the days when Sun Ping's mindset was quietly changing, two undercurrents were surging within Qinghe County.

The Su and Lin factions began a new round of confrontation.

Before the first month of the lunar calendar was even over, the county government received a series of reports.

The "Shunfeng Gambling House" in the east of the city, the "Jucai Pawnshop" in the west, and the "Tongyun Carriage and Horse Shop" in the south—the businesses controlled by these three gangs—were completely raided overnight.

Officer Qi personally led a team of dozens of constables, who simultaneously raided the shops, arrested people, and seized a whole box of account books, silver, and land deeds.

These three gangs appear to be independent, but in reality, their backers are all inextricably linked to the Lin family.

Su Zhengyuan did not give Lin Hanshan time to react. The day after the seizure, he sent someone to deliver the confiscated silver and account books to the Commandant's Office for Lu Chuan to review.

Lu Chuan glanced at it and only said a few words: "Just handle it according to the law." His tone was nonchalant. He had witnessed the struggle between the Lin and Su factions, but he didn't care.

When Lin Hanshan received the message, his eyes flickered, but he only said three words: "Understood."

But his fingers kept tapping on the table. "Tap, tap, tap," once, once, and again.

The Lin family's response didn't take long.

Three days later, the Wu family's two silk shops in the city were found to be "selling inferior goods as superior ones and deceiving the people," and were ordered to suspend operations for rectification. The Shen family's three grain shops in the south of the city were found to be "hoarding and speculating and driving up grain prices," and were also shut down.

Both companies approached Su Zhengyuan at the same time. After listening to their reports, Su Zhengyuan remained silent for a moment, then smiled. The smile was faint, but the light in his eyes was cold.

"It is impolite not to reciprocate. Since the Lin family wants to play this game, let's play it to the end."

Instead of ordering immediate retaliation, he instructed: "Keep the accounts clean and don't let anyone find any fault with it."

The clash between the two factions was like two invisible knives, going back and forth in the shadows of Qinghe County, each strike drawing blood, yet on the surface, all was calm.

The people went about their lives as usual, some going to the market, others setting up stalls, completely unaware of what was happening in the government offices. Only the shops that had been sealed off had their doors covered with white paper seals with black writing on them, which rattled in the wind.

Xu Qing was no stranger to all of this.

He was on temporary assignment at the yamen, and Constable Qi would occasionally mention it to him, but he never took the initiative to inquire or offer any opinions.

He knew his current identity: a disciple of the Zhao family martial arts school, a constable on temporary assignment in the yamen, and a pawn in Su Zhengyuan's faction that was not yet qualified to be on the table.

All he can do is practice his boxing well, do good deeds, and not give anyone any leverage against him.

As for the struggles between those big shots, he couldn't get involved, nor did he want to.

He only trusts his own fists.

It was late at night, and Xu Qing was still practicing his stance in the inner courtyard's martial arts training ground.

The moonlight shone on him, casting a long shadow. His breathing was deep and even, with each inhale and exhale causing his blood and energy to circulate slowly within him.

The line of text in my mind is as clear as if it were engraved—

【Three Talents Stance (Mastery): 256/1000】