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

Si Jiawen saw Yang Jing’s excitement, and a faint smile touched her lips. ”That’s about enough,” she said lightly. ”The warm-up is over. I’m making my move now.”

Hearing this, Yang Jing’s heart skipped a beat. His expression turned wary at once. He quickly focused, took half a step back, and assumed a defensive stance, preparing to face her attack in earnest.

He knew that once his Senior Sister attacked, it would be nothing like her earlier defensive posture. He would have to give it his all to have any chance.

In the next instant, Si Jiawen switched from defense to offense.

She remained motionless. But at the precise moment Yang Jing’s punch was fully extended—his old momentum spent, new momentum not yet generated—she pinpointed the opening he couldn’t cover in time.

With a flip of her hand, a condensed stream of Inner Qi gathered in her palm. She struck out like lightning, her palm landing squarely on Yang Jing’s own left palm, which he had hastily raised to block his chest.

BAM!

A muffled thud, deeper than any before, echoed in the courtyard. Yang Jing felt a tyrannical, overwhelming surge of Inner Qi pour from his palm into his body, as unstoppable as a herd of stampeding horses.

He could clearly sense that Senior Sister Si Jiawen hadn’t used much Inner Qi in that strike. However, its quality was astonishingly high—far purer and more condensed than his own, carrying an air of indomitable power.

In the instant their palms met, his own condensed Inner Qi was shattered and thrown into chaos by her purer energy. A faint, throbbing pain spread through his meridians.

A massive force then erupted from his palm, sending him stumbling backward uncontrollably.

He stumbled back seven or eight steps before his back slammed hard against a stone bench in the courtyard. He finally came to a stop, collapsing onto the seat.

Yang Jing stared at the still-composed Si Jiawen, his face a mask of shock. He panted heavily, his chest rising and falling in sharp, ragged breaths.

The power of that last strike had far exceeded his expectations. Even though his Senior Sister had obviously been holding back, he had felt an unprecedented pressure.

’Is this the power of a Qi Absorption Realm expert?’

A powerful desire welled up in Yang Jing’s heart—a desire to break through to the Qi Absorption Realm and wield such terrifying Inner Qi for himself.

He slowly replayed the entire spar with Si Jiawen in his mind: his initial all-out assault, his later encirclement using his Body Technique, and finally, his defeat with a single palm strike. A wave of complex emotions washed over him.

He could clearly tell that his Senior Sister had been nowhere near using her full strength. She had even suppressed her power to the level of the Qi Eating Realm, yet she had still defeated him with ease.

Of course, the superior quality of his Senior Sister’s Inner Qi was a major factor.

After all, no matter how much she suppressed her strength, she was still an expert at the Peak of the Qi Absorption Realm. The purity and resilience of her Inner Qi far surpassed his own, which was only at the Qi Eating Realm.

This was a fundamental difference in realms, a gap that could not be bridged by techniques or talent alone.

Si Jiawen walked slowly over to Yang Jing. She dusted off her hands and looked at him, her expression serene. ”Junior Brother,” she said calmly, ”your strength is... acceptable. Your foundation is solid and your talent is decent, but you have significant room for improvement in your realm and your control over Inner Qi. You need to keep practicing hard.”

At her words, Yang Jing quickly rose from the stone bench and bowed respectfully with clasped hands. ”Thank you for your guidance, Senior Sister. I have learned a great deal.”

The spar had not only shown him the vast gap between himself and a top-tier expert like his Senior Sister, but it had also given him a clear understanding of his own shortcomings. He had gained a great deal from it.

Si Jiawen hummed in acknowledgment. ”I’ll be going, then. I’ll give you some more pointers next time we have a chance. I hope you’ll have made some progress by then. Don’t be like today, unable to withstand even ten percent of my power.”

With that, she turned and walked toward the courtyard gate. She paused at the entrance, looking back to add, ”Oh, right. Don’t forget to prepare for the intra-peak lecture in three days. Organize your cultivation insights, and don’t be at a loss for words when the time comes.”

”I’ll remember. Thank you for the reminder, Senior Sister.”

Yang Jing nodded respectfully. He watched Si Jiawen’s figure disappear down the mountain path before slowly looking away. His mind, however, was still replaying the spar, replaying his Senior Sister’s exquisite techniques—seemingly casual, yet filled with profound principles.

...

「In the afternoon.」

Fushan Island was bathed in warm sunlight. On the mountain path of Lingxi Peak, the shadows of the trees danced.

As Yang Jing emerged from a Grade B Training Room, the afterglow of Inner Qi still clung to him. He could almost feel the heavy, concentrated power of the Mountain-Breaking Seal at his fingertips.

He went straight back to Qing No. 4 Courtyard, drew a bucket of warm water from the well, and took a bath to wash away his sweat. He changed into a set of black martial arts attire. The fabric was common brocade, but it was starched clean and crisp, making his posture seem even more erect and sharp.

Once he was ready, he descended Lingxi Peak and headed toward Yunxi Peak.

He had told Sun Ningxiang yesterday that he was attending the Lin Family’s banquet, and he was here today to escort her there.

...

The Inner Sect Disciple residences were located on the mountainside of Yunxi Peak, where the vegetation was even more lush and abundant than on Lingxi Peak.

Yang Jing, knowing the way by heart, walked up to Sun Ningxiang’s small courtyard. He knocked twice on the gate, and from within came her clear, bright response.

The gate swung open. Yang Jing looked up and found himself momentarily stunned.

Sun Ningxiang was wearing light makeup today. Her willow-like brows were delicately penciled, and her lips were touched with a hint of soft red, adding a layer of exquisite detail to her already peerless beauty.

A moon-white gown complemented her slender figure and graceful, gentle aura. She stood beneath a wisteria trellis in the courtyard, and as the wind brushed a stray lock of hair across her temple, Yang Jing’s heart skipped a beat. For a moment, he couldn’t look away.