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

Yang Jing immediately cupped his hands in a salute to Lin Shuhua, his tone sincere. ”Thank you for your trouble, Miss Lin.”

Lin Shuhua bowed slightly, a faint smile on her face. She curtsied, her voice crisp and gentle. ”You are too kind, Young Master Yang. This is merely my duty.”

Watching her strict adherence to etiquette and her dignified bearing, Yang Jing couldn’t help but sigh inwardly. As expected of a noble lady raised in a great clan, her every word and deed was imbued with discipline.

’But isn’t it exhausting to live a life so tightly bound by rules, where every single thing must be done perfectly and with consideration?’

He shook his head slightly at the thought but said nothing more.

’Perhaps for Lin Shuhua, this kind of methodical and well-organized life is simply what she’s used to. She might not find it arduous at all.’

After the pleasantries were exchanged, Lin Weiyuan took the lead, with Yang Jing following close behind. Lin Shuhua trailed after them with a demure, downcast gaze.

The three of them walked along a cobblestone path toward the study.

Along the way, they passed through a large garden filled with peonies and herbaceous peonies. The evening breeze rustled the flowers on their stems, carrying their subtle fragrance through the air.

They then passed through several corridors with carved beams and painted rafters. The palace lanterns hanging beneath the eaves were already lit, their dim, yellow halos casting a serene glow upon the flagstone path.

In what felt like no time, they arrived at the door to Lin Weiyuan’s study.

The study was situated in a quiet corner of the estate. It was a building of blue bricks and black tiles, with two ancient, verdant pines planted before the entrance, exuding an air of solemn dignity.

Seeing Lin Weiyuan’s return, the servant boy guarding the study hurried forward and respectfully pushed open the heavy wooden doors. They swung open without the slightest sound, a clear sign of constant maintenance.

Lin Weiyuan led Yang Jing and Lin Shuhua straight into the study. Yang Jing looked up and saw that the room was extremely spacious and brightly lit.

At the far end stood a wide desk made of red sandalwood. Its surface was as clean as new, with an ink brush, ink, paper, and an inkstone laid out in an orderly fashion.

In front of the desk were two pear wood chairs. The back of the chair behind the desk was carved with an exquisite pattern of pines and cranes, symbolizing longevity. Behind it, a massive bookshelf covered the entire wall.

The bookshelf was densely packed with books, ranging from classics of history and literature to numerous tomes on martial arts, all exuding the faint scent of ink.

Lin Weiyuan walked to the chair behind the desk and stopped, gesturing toward the one opposite him with a smile. ”Young Master Yang, please have a seat.”

Yang Jing nodded, strode to the desk, and sat down with a poised and upright posture.

At the same time, Lin Weiyuan also sat down in the host’s seat opposite him.

He then looked at Lin Shuhua, who was standing attendance to the side, and instructed, ”Shuhua, go and brew some tea. In the third drawer of the cabinet by the door, you’ll find the Pre-Qingming Longjing tea that was brought from Jiangnan last year. Use that.”

”Yes, Father.” Upon hearing this, Lin Shuhua nodded obediently and turned toward the cabinet by the door, her movements gentle and practiced.

Lin Weiyuan’s gaze returned to Yang Jing, a smile of admiration on his face. ”Some time ago, I made a special trip to watch the final match of the Fushan Grand Tournament,” he said slowly. ”For someone as young as yourself, Young Master Yang, to break through with Three True Skills to the Qi Eating Realm and fight a top-tier genius like Chu Yunhai to a draw... your natural talent is truly astounding!”

Hearing this, Yang Jing gave a humble smile and waved his hand. ”Uncle Lin, you flatter me. This junior was merely lucky.”

”You are far too modest, Young Master Yang.”

Lin Weiyuan smiled and waved his hand dismissively, his tone growing more earnest. ”On the path of the Martial Dao, talent is certainly important, but to achieve so much at your age is a testament to your own hard work and perseverance. ’Luck’ is a word far too small to account for such an honor.”

He paused for a moment, then asked curiously as if recalling something, ”My son Ziheng mentioned that you have become a disciple of Peak Master Lingxi?”

At these words, a flicker of reverence crossed Yang Jing’s eyes, and he nodded solemnly. ”That is correct. It is this junior’s great fortune to have been accepted as my Master’s disciple.”

Hearing this, Lin Weiyuan’s gaze grew distant with reminiscence and emotion. He spoke slowly, ”Peak Master Lingxi was a renowned genius even back in her day. Her cultivation and strength were greater than mine. After all these years, I fear she has already reached a far higher realm and gone much further.”

Yang Jing’s heart stirred. From Lin Weiyuan’s tone, it seemed he had known his Master many years ago and held her strength in extremely high regard.

’It seems my beautiful Master’s power is even greater than I had imagined.’

He had always known his Master’s cultivation was profound, but he had never inquired about her specific realm. Now, hearing Lin Weiyuan’s words, his respect for her deepened into awe.

As the two were speaking, Lin Shuhua returned with the tea, carrying an exquisite white porcelain tray.

On the tray were three small blue-and-white porcelain cups, the tea within them a clear, translucent, pale yellow-green.

She gently placed the tray on a small side table next to the desk. First, she picked up a cup and offered it to Lin Weiyuan, then took another and walked slowly over to Yang Jing, setting it down softly in front of him.

Following that, she lifted the teapot from the tray and carefully refilled both their cups.

As the warm tea flowed out, a fresh, invigorating fragrance instantly filled the study—elegant and mellow, it was enough to refresh one’s spirit.

As Lin Shuhua poured tea for Yang Jing, her gaze involuntarily swept across his face.

The young man before her had sharp, distinct features: sword-like brows, star-like eyes, a high-bridged nose, and well-defined lips. He was already strikingly handsome, but what was even rarer was the heroic aura between his brows—an air forged and refined through the tempering of the Martial Dao.