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

The plaza atop Feather Peak wasn’t large, measuring just over ten zhang in length and width.

The ground, paved with bluestone slabs, was kept clean and smooth. It was encircled by lush greenery, and as the morning mist dissipated, sunlight filtered through the leaves, casting dappled shadows that lent the space a tranquil and solemn air.

Chief Elder Ouyang Jingxuan stood at the head of the plaza, his posture erect. Despite his advanced age, he possessed a profound and imposing presence, like a still abyss or a towering mountain.

Chu Yunhai and Yang Jing flanked him, their solemn gazes fixed upon him. Their expressions were intent, not daring a moment of laxity. They even deliberately quieted their breathing, afraid of missing a single detail.

Ouyang Jingxuan spoke slowly, his voice calm. ”Are you ready?”

The two nodded in unison. ”We are ready!”

Ouyang Jingxuan gave a slight nod, his gaze sweeping over them. ”Watch carefully,” he said, his voice deep. ”This martial art is called the Cyan Mountain Fist. Though it is merely one of the sect’s basic punching techniques, it embodies the profound Martial Dao principle of returning to one’s true nature.”

As his voice faded, Ouyang Jingxuan said no more. His presence seemed to settle, and then he raised a hand, took a step, and began to perform the Cyan Mountain Fist.

The technique was indeed ordinary. Its moves were simple and unadorned, consisting of nothing more than basic actions like chops, hacks, blocks, thrusts, and rising strikes. There were no complex combinations, nor was there any overwhelming momentum.

But in Ouyang Jingxuan’s hands, this ordinary, basic punching technique was elevated to an entirely different realm.

His movements were unhurried, each move and form executed with a calm composure, as if he were taking a leisurely stroll. The swing of his palms carried the steady rhythm of rolling mountain ranges, and when his feet landed, they seemed to have the profound weight of roots taking hold in the earth.

What was clearly the simplest chopping punch became like a cyan mountain crashing down in his hands. It appeared slow, yet it carried an unstoppable momentum.

An ordinary block was like a sheer cliff wall, as steady as a monolith, revealing no openings whatsoever.

The entire set of punching techniques was completely devoid of flourish, yet it brought the four principles of ”steadiness,” ”weight,” ”profundity,” and ”solidity” to their absolute pinnacle.

The transitions between the punching techniques were natural and seamless, as if he himself had merged into one with the cyan mountains. Every gesture carried a certain mystical intent, mesmerizing the onlookers and drawing them in completely.

Yang Jing watched without blinking, his gaze locked onto Ouyang Jingxuan’s every move. He carefully studied everything, from the turn of the Elder’s wrists and the exertion of his arms to the rotation of his waist and the shifting of his feet, even analyzing the rhythm of his breathing.

He firmly etched every detail and nuance of the Cyan Mountain Fist into his mind, not daring to miss a single thing.

’I know my innate talent can’t compare to Chu Yunhai’s,’ he thought. ’My only chance of victory is to rely on my comprehension.’

Chu Yunhai, standing beside him, was just as focused. Despite his usual confidence, he dared not be the slightest bit careless in the face of this true test.

His gaze was just as intense, his brow slightly furrowed. As he watched Ouyang Jingxuan perform, he was rapidly deconstructing the technique in his mind, trying to grasp the core essence of the Cyan Mountain Fist. Beneath the Elder’s leisurely grace lay an uncompromising precision.

A moment later, Ouyang Jingxuan concluded with the final form. He withdrew his fist, letting his qi sink to his Dantian. His aura calmed completely, as if he had never moved at all.

He had performed the entire Cyan Mountain Fist from start to finish without a single pause or extraneous movement. It was a perfect demonstration.

Ouyang Jingxuan looked at the two disciples, who were still lost in the profound intent of the technique, and spoke slowly. ”The demonstration is complete. You now have one hour to comprehend it on your own.”

”After that hour, you will each perform the Cyan Mountain Fist. I will determine the victor based on the depth of your understanding.”

Yang Jing and Chu Yunhai finally snapped out of their reverie. They quickly bowed and responded in unison, ”Yes, Elder!”

After speaking, they both turned and found separate, spacious spots on the plaza. Standing several yards apart so as not to disturb one another, they began to immerse themselves in comprehending the Cyan Mountain Fist Ouyang Jingxuan had just performed.

Ouyang Jingxuan remained where he was, watching their focused expressions. A flicker of gratification crossed his world-weary eyes, and he gave a slight nod.

’These two disciples...’ he mused. ’One has outstanding gifts and a superb innate constitution, while the other is tenacious, with an astonishing rate of progress. Both are prodigies of the Xuanzhen Sect. Either one is worthy of the sect investing all its resources to nurture.’

’However, despite being extremely satisfied with them both, I know the sect’s top-tier resources are limited. They are simply insufficient to support two core prospects simultaneously.’

’If we want to raise an expert capable of contending with the True Qi Realm prodigies of the Yunxiao Sect as quickly as possible, we must concentrate all our resources on a single person. This was the plan set by the sect’s leadership long ago.’

Ouyang Jingxuan sighed to himself. ’In the end,’ he lamented internally, ’the Xuanzhen Sect just isn’t powerful enough.’

’If only we possessed the profound heritage and vast resources of the Yunxiao Sect. We could easily develop both Chu Yunhai and Yang Jing as twin prodigies, allowing them to advance side-by-side, motivating each other to grow together.’

’But the Xuanzhen Sect’s strength and resources simply do not permit such a luxury.’

On the other side of the plaza, Yang Jing sat cross-legged on the bluestone slabs, his eyes lightly closed and his expression grave. He was replaying every detail of Ouyang Jingxuan’s Cyan Mountain Fist demonstration in his mind, as if watching a film.

Thanks to the boost in comprehension from the Heart Inquiry Pill, his mind was working like a high-speed machine. He deconstructed, analyzed, and integrated every aspect of the technique—the moves, the application of force, the rhythm of breath, and even that profound, mountain-like intent—deepening his understanding with each passing moment.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the plaza, Chu Yunhai also sat cross-legged. However, his expression wasn’t as grave as Yang Jing’s; instead, he appeared perfectly composed and calm.