Martial Arts Awakening, Bloodfire Fist Master

[We should press on with our remaining strength, for Mighty Fist showed no sign of complacency. We martial artists must be courageous and diligent in our pursuit. However, Mighty Fist also realized that he was too hungry. Even with his extraordinary talent, he needed to rest for a while.]

Zhang Qingshan first felt as if his flesh, bones, and muscles were twisting and becoming stronger, and his whole body was rapidly becoming stronger and more powerful.

Before I could even feel excited, a wave of hunger surged through my body, the feeling of being dominated by the powerful punch vanished, and I returned to normal. Then I felt my body trembling—hungry, hungry, hungry...

Without even saying hello to anyone, he rushed into the house like a hungry wolf.

He grabbed the dried sweet potatoes he brought from his hometown and ate them all, which made him feel a little better. Then he started cooking millet porridge in a corner.

After a while, Zhang Qingshan let out a burp and then slowly began to feel the changes in his body.

Without a mirror, I could only look down and observe myself. My chest, abdomen, shoulders, back, thighs, calves, and other areas seemed to have gained some muscle out of nowhere, making me look a bit more agile.

The clothes were a little tight, but not by much, so the change on the surface wasn't significant.

The main change is internal. Now, after eating my fill, I can clearly feel that I am more focused, my gaze is more steady, and I am much more stable when I stand up than before.

I clenched my fist and felt a surge of power.

I picked up the clay portable stove in the corner of the room. Before, I had to lift it up with great effort and move it slowly, but now I could lift it up easily.

His strength has at least doubled.

I used to be able to carry 100 jin (50 kg), now I can carry at least 200 jin (100 kg).

Looking at the empty sweet potato bag, no wonder I was so hungry.

Now that I've calmed down, recalling the narration about the Mighty Fist, I realize that through the effort of the Mighty Fist, the mastery of it reached a certain proficiency stage, which led to an improvement, as if it meant formally entering the threshold of martial arts and reaching a certain level of martial artist strength.

That's why I was so hungry; it feels both reasonable and unreasonable.

The reasonable explanation is that a breakthrough in martial arts leads to changes in the body and increased strength, which inevitably requires the consumption of nutrients, so suddenly becoming hungry is understandable.

What about the unreasonable ones?

Zhang Qingshan learned some boxing skills from Zhou Biao.

I know where I can truly learn martial arts, how much tuition a real martial arts school charges, and that true martial artists need abundant physical and medicinal nourishment to break through their limits.

The little bit of food he had just eaten was far from enough to fully replenish the energy needed for his breakthrough, but he didn't feel much discomfort at the moment.

Recalling what Dali Quan said about "it" having extraordinary talent, perhaps this is the reason.

Anyway, it's a good thing, so I'm not going to worry about it anymore.

Perhaps it was due to the breakthrough, but Zhang Qingshan felt that the whip marks he had suffered today were much better, and the wounds seemed to have stopped bleeding.

I'm incredibly strong right now, and I have this pent-up energy I want to unleash. I feel like I could take down those good-for-nothing thugs who usually loiter around the streets of the slums with a single punch. If I were to go back to Zhangjia Village, I could dominate the entire village.

Take a deep breath to calm down. The idea that they are terrifyingly strong is an illusion. Those useless thugs on the street who are addicted to opium can't carry bags or pull carts. They are not even as good as normal people. Zhangjia Village is just a bunch of skinny old farmers. There is nothing to compare them to.

If I had to compare, I'd say my current strength is about the same as Zhou Biao's; I could probably leave a mark on a tree trunk with a single punch.

Zhang Qingshan's eyes were deep and unfathomable, but that was all. Even with his strength doubled, he still couldn't lift an adult with one arm. Then, with a flick of his wrist, he snapped the neck and threw the other person into the river with one hand.

Yes, recalling Master Ma's ferocity, Dali Quan had to admit that he was no match for him. His anger flared again, and he felt a sudden urgency. Now was no time for complacency; he had to continue training...

Zhang Qingshan coughed. "Well, it's getting dark. Why don't we practice our boxing inside? Let's keep a low profile. Also, we just ate, and strenuous exercise can affect our stomach."

[Mighty Fist pondered for a moment, realizing he was still developing and should indeed keep a low profile. As for resting, would it affect his stomach? Mighty Fist sneered. If he couldn't even do strenuous exercise, what was the point of practicing martial arts!]

The next moment, Zhang Qingshan inside the room started practicing his boxing again.

Although it was late at night, other neighbors could still vaguely see figures moving inside Zhang Qingshan's small house through the cracks in the windows.

With a sigh, I thought, "Xiao Zhang has gone mad."

Old Xu's wife, Wang Xiulan, came out of the small millstone next door and saw the figure moving inside. "You, surnamed Xu, this is all your doing. What if someone gets seriously injured from practicing this? You shouldn't have sent that lousy book out to harm people."

Old Xu was silent for a moment. "What if, what if Brother Zhang really develops something? Anyway, I feel that Brother Zhang is different from other teenagers."

A wave of exhaustion washed over me, and I felt completely drained.

My breathing became increasingly rapid, and I felt like my lungs might explode or I might die suddenly at any moment.

I really want to intervene and stop for a rest.

[Daliquan felt extremely tired and miserable, but a strong will sustained him. He didn't want to eat coarse food, didn't want to see his parents and sisters scrimping and saving to bring him rations, didn't want to be trampled on in the latrine, and didn't want to see his friends persecuted... Daliquan felt that as long as he didn't reach the point of sudden death, he had to persevere, persevere, persevere...]

Zhang Qingshan fell silent. Even Dali Quan knew these things, so how could he, a transmigrator, not want to hold his head high and be a person of integrity?

At the very least, we shouldn't undermine someone's powerful punch.

They practiced until 2 a.m.

[Daliquan knows that training requires a balance of work and rest. Even with exceptional talent, there's a limit. For the long term, he needs to rest.]

The next moment, Zhang Qingshan lay down on the bed and fell asleep instantly.

[Dali Quan opened his eyes. "The ancients rose at the crowing of the rooster to practice martial arts," he thought, "I should have that ambition." He turned his head and listened; the Xu couple and the Wang couple next door were already up. It was already five o'clock. He had been too lazy. Time to practice.]

Zhang Qingshan was speechless. "Brother Dali, it's only five o'clock. You went to bed so late last night. Do you have to work so hard?"

"Fight?" For some reason, this question arose in Dali Quan's heart. After a moment of silence, he found the answer: besides fighting, did he have any other way out? His parents were probably already up and about, weeding and watering the parched land.

Being overly sensible touches the heart.

Let's practice then. Let's practice outside. It's spacious there, and the people in the yard won't understand anyway.

He stepped out of the house and began practicing openly and confidently.

"Xiao Zhang, you haven't eaten yet, have you? Try this hot tofu."

Aunt Wang held a lump of tofu, her face showing apology and worry. "Oh, it's all because of that old Xu. He insisted on giving you that boxing technique. Don't believe him. That booklet is a scam. Xiao Zhang, stop practicing it and focus on getting better first."

As she spoke, Wang's voice grew softer and softer. In the dim, still-dark sky, Xiao Zhang seemed much more energetic than yesterday.

The effect of boxing? Impossible. It's only been one night. How could it be that exaggerated? It's not some kind of divine skill or secret manual. It can only be attributed to the fact that young people have abundant energy and blood.

It's just a pity for Old Liu; thinking of this, he sighed even more.

Zhang Qingshan hesitated for a moment, then accepted the tofu and thanked him.

Compared to the outside world, this courtyard has a lot more human touch, and it lets ordinary people know that they are still alive.

Tofu is a good source of protein, Dali Quan thought for a moment, swallowed it in a few bites, and then continued practicing.

Seeing Zhang Qingshan's terrifyingly rude eating habits, and then his reckless boxing practice after finishing his meal, Aunt Wang sighed and stopped trying to dissuade him.

Young people won't turn back until they hit a brick wall.

Zhang Qingshan practiced until it was broad daylight, when most of the neighbors had already gone out to do errands, before he went to check on Lao Liu.

Old Liu remained lying motionless on the bed, the meat soup and tofu buns from yesterday on the small wooden table next to him long since gone cold.

Upon seeing Zhang Qingshan arrive, Old Liu's dull eyes flickered slightly, and he opened his mouth several times before finally uttering a sound: "Hurry up and go, I'm finished, Qingshan, I have something to ask of you."

"Brother, you said that no matter what it is, Qingshan will never shirk his responsibility."

Old Liu struggled to sit up, as if those words had helped him catch his breath.

Grabbing Zhang Qingshan's hand, tears streamed down her face: "That guy surnamed Ma has me cornered. I'm definitely not going to make it. It'll either be the mill or the blood bank. My only worry is my old mother. Please, during holidays, go and check on her for me. Also, tell her I'm going to make my way in Shenghai City."

Zhang Qingshan patted Lao Liu's hand with his other hand.

"Brother Liu, isn't there ten days? Let's wait a few days and see. What if things take a turn for the better? I think it would be better if you went to see your mother yourself."

Old Liu gave a bitter laugh. "There's no chance of a turnaround. Unless that guy surnamed Ma suddenly falls into the river and drowns, he could kill a whole bunch of us peasants with just one hand."

Old Liu is in a state of utter despair right now. Perhaps even without his cheat-like abilities, I would be just as hopeless as him.

Zhang Qingshan was worried that Lao Liu would scare himself to death or starve to death. After thinking for a moment, he leaned close to Lao Liu's ear and said, "Brother Liu, I have something to tell you, but you have to keep it a secret. I know Brother Dali, and he said he will help us solve this."

Old Liu's eyes lit up, and he was about to ask another question.

"Shh," Zhang Qingshan made a secrecy gesture, pointing around. "Walls have ears. Let's pretend we don't know. You should eat something first."

[Mighty Fist thought for a moment. He didn't know any big brothers in his Mighty Fist clan. In his memory, those Mighty Fists were all mediocre. They could only comfort Old Liu. He still had to rely on himself. As long as he didn't die from training...]

He left Old Liu's house and started practicing again.