Rise in the Martial Chaos: Starting From a Martial Arts School

He didn’t want to attract any unnecessary attention until things calmed down.

Thus, Yang Jing was now completely focused on the Mountain-Shattering Fist.

He had long since become quite proficient in this fist technique. With his Inner Strength having surged recently, it was the perfect opportunity to familiarize himself with his new power threshold while maintaining the appearance of normalcy.

The morning light gradually grew brighter, bathing the entire front courtyard.

Fine beads of sweat trickled from Yang Jing’s forehead, sliding down his cheeks and dripping onto the stone slates, where they bloomed into small, dark patches.

His breathing was long and steady, but the force behind his fists grew ever more condensed.

Only he knew what terrifying power was surging through his body.

’An ordinary Dark Energy Martial Artist probably couldn’t withstand three of my punches.’

’Even a master at the Peak of Dark Energy would be defeated within ten moves if they had no trump cards.’

Yang Jing was immersed in the rhythm of the Mountain-Shattering Fist, each movement steady and solid, completely unaware of the passing time.

As the sun climbed higher, disciples of the Martial Arts Hall began to arrive one after another.

First came a few disciples who lived nearby, rubbing their sleepy eyes as they walked through the Martial Arts Hall’s main gate. Upon seeing Yang Jing practicing in the center of the courtyard, they instinctively lightened their steps.

Then, other disciples arrived in twos and threes, their gazes filled with a certain reverence whenever they glanced at Yang Jing.

Especially after Yang Jing had defeated Senior Brother Xu Hong yesterday, his prestige in the Martial Arts Hall had momentarily reached its zenith, far surpassing the other Dark Energy Core Disciples.

The front courtyard gradually grew lively. The clanging of weapons and the shouts of the disciples rose and fell, yet none of it disturbed Yang Jing in the slightest.

Many disciples practiced their own techniques, but their gazes would still dart toward him from the corners of their eyes.

They saw that Yang Jing’s fists were heavy and fierce, his breath long and sustained. He performed a set of Mountain-Shattering Fist that was as smooth as flowing water, his powerful aura leaving them secretly amazed.

”Senior Brother Yang is so diligent,” a regular disciple who had yet to achieve Inner Strength whispered to his friend. ”If it were me and I had his skills, I’d have gone back to my hometown long ago to build a big mansion and marry eight or ten wives to enjoy a life of leisure. Why would I still be training so hard every day?”

The friend nodded repeatedly. ”Isn’t that the truth? No wonder Senior Brother Yang made it onto the tournament trial rankings. That kind of drive isn’t something we can compare to...”

The discussion was quiet, but it faintly reached Yang Jing’s ears. The corner of his mouth merely twitched in a barely perceptible smile, his fist techniques not pausing for even a moment.

After about the time it takes for an incense stick to burn, Yang Jing slowly concluded his form. He exhaled a long, turbid breath, and the white vapor rising from his body dispersed with it.

He raised a hand to wipe the sweat from his forehead, walked to the wall, and took a water flask from a cloth bag.

Twisting open the lid, he took several large gulps. The cool, refreshing liquid slid down his throat, dispelling the heat from his practice.

Yang Jing wiped his mouth with his sleeve, stuffed the flask back into the bag, and rolled his shoulders.

The Dark Energy within him had become more pliant during the practice session, and there was no longer much sluggishness in its circulation.

He looked up at the scene in the front courtyard. Most of the disciples had arrived and begun their morning training. He straightened his clothes and turned, preparing to resume his own practice to solidify his control over his newfound strength.

Yang Jing had just turned to head back to the center of the courtyard when, after only a few steps, he heard the sound of slightly hesitant footsteps behind him.

He looked back and saw a fair-skinned, slightly chubby, round-faced youth standing stiffly not far away. The boy was nervously clutching the hem of his clothes, his eyes filled with anxiety as he shuffled hesitantly closer.

The youth’s name was Jiang Haoyang. He was a new disciple who had joined the Sun’s Martial Arts Hall after the tournament trials. He had a Middle-Grade Root Bone and had yet to achieve Inner Strength. He was usually quiet and inconspicuous, often staying in a corner of the Martial Arts Hall.

Yang Jing had a faint impression of him, recalling that while his fist work wasn’t outstanding, he was exceptionally serious and could endure hardship.

When Jiang Haoyang saw Yang Jing look over, his body visibly stiffened, and his cheeks flushed red. After taking a deep breath, he quickly walked forward and gave Yang Jing a standard, respectful fist-and-palm salute, bowing his waist very low. His voice was filled with irrepressible nervousness and apprehension. ”Senior... Senior Brother Yang, this disciple, Jiang Haoyang, would... would like to ask for your guidance on my Mountain-Shattering Fist. I was wondering if you... have the time?”

As he spoke, he buried his head even lower, his eyes fixed on the ground.

After all, Yang Jing was now the number one disciple in the Martial Arts Hall. He had made it onto the tournament trial rankings, and just yesterday, even Senior Brother Xu Hong, a master at the Peak of Dark Energy, had been defeated by him. An ordinary disciple wouldn’t dare to casually approach and disturb him.

Yang Jing looked at the youth, who was a few years younger than him. His appearance—eager to improve yet afraid of being a bother—reminded Yang Jing of himself right after he had transmigrated.

He nodded slightly, a gentle smile playing on his lips, and said in a steady voice, ”Alright. Perform a set of the Mountain-Shattering Fist for me.”

”Re... Really?”

Jiang Haoyang’s head shot up, his eyes wide with pleasant surprise. His previously tense face instantly broke into a brilliant smile, and his voice trembled with excitement. ”Th-Thank you, Senior Brother Yang! Thank you, Senior Brother!”

He bowed repeatedly, much of his stiffness melting away, replaced by an irrepressible excitement. He quickly took a few steps back to an empty space, took a deep breath to regulate his breathing, and prepared to demonstrate the Mountain-Shattering Fist for Yang Jing.

Jiang Haoyang stood firm in the open space, took another deep breath, and tried to calm his racing heart.

His gaze sharpened as he assumed the opening stance of the Mountain-Shattering Fist. His arms circled as if holding a boulder, and he sank his waist, showing a bit of proper form.

With a low shout, he began his demonstration.

He threw a punch. Although the force was weak, the form was decent, but his power generation was clearly awkward.

His shoulders were too stiff and failed to link with his waist, causing his power to be scattered instead of focused.

His footwork was also somewhat unsteady. Each step lacked stability, and especially when turning during the Rock-Splitting Stance, his body wobbled, and he nearly lost his balance.

By the time he finished the set, his forehead was already beaded with sweat, and his breathing was a little ragged. He had clearly expended a great deal of effort.

Yang Jing stood to the side with his arms crossed, watching calmly. He would occasionally nod slightly or furrow his brow, committing every detail of Jiang Haoyang’s technique to memory.

This scene quickly attracted the attention of the surrounding disciples.

Many of them stopped what they were doing.

Everyone wanted to see how Yang Jing would critique the performance, hoping to seize the opportunity to learn something themselves.

When Jiang Haoyang finished his form, his cheeks were bright red. He looked at Yang Jing, somewhat embarrassed. ”S-Senior Brother, I’m done.”

Yang Jing walked forward and spoke clearly, ”Your overall form is decent, but there are quite a few flaws. First, when you punch, don’t just use your arm strength. You need to sink your shoulders and drop your elbows, letting the power generate from your waist and abdomen and travel through your spine to your fists. Just now, your shoulders were too tense, so the power got stuck in your arms, making your punches empty.”

As he spoke, he demonstrated, throwing a casual punch. It looked effortless, yet it carried a naturally profound weight that left the surrounding disciples secretly amazed.

”Second, your footwork must be stable. Unstable steps lead to powerless fists. Look, when you turned, your center of gravity was too far forward. Your feet weren’t rooted, so you could easily be toppled by an external force.”

Yang Jing pointed out another issue. ”And here, you retract your fist too quickly. You’re too eager to switch to the next move before the hard force is fully expressed, which is just a waste of energy.”

He pointed out three or four obvious problems in one go, each one hitting a critical point, explained in a clear, logical, and easy-to-understand manner.

Jiang Haoyang listened with extreme focus, his eyes wide. He nodded from time to time, a look of sudden realization dawning on his face.

He had a Middle-Grade Root Bone. His talent wasn’t top-tier, but it wasn’t bad either; he was at an upper-middle level among the Martial Arts Hall’s disciples, much better than Yang Jing’s own Root Bone.

Now, with Yang Jing’s guidance, he roughly understood the problems. He secretly committed them to memory, thinking that he would definitely have to ponder them carefully and make corrections later.

Seeing that he had more or less understood, Yang Jing said no more. ”Go back and practice more. Fix these few issues, and then we can talk about other things.”

”Yes! Thank you for your guidance, Senior Brother Yang! This disciple will remember!” Jiang Haoyang bowed deeply again, his face full of gratitude. His eyes were much brighter than before, a clear sign that he had benefited greatly.

Yang Jing looked at the somewhat well-behaved and shy Jiang Haoyang, pondered for a moment, and then said, ”From now on, when I’m resting during my practice breaks, feel free to come find me if there’s anything you don’t understand.”