Ti slipped away amidst the daily routine of cultivation. In the blink of an eye, half a month had passed.
During this ti, Yang Jing visited Liu Maolin every two or three days. Thanks to the nourishing dicine and careful nursing, Liu Maolin’s injuries were steadily improving. He was conscious now, but still confined to bed, unable to get up for the ti being.
This morning, at the training grounds in the front courtyard of Sun’s Martial Arts Hall.
Sunlight filtered through sparse clouds onto the training grounds, where Yang Jing was engrossed in practicing the Mountain-Shattering Fist.
The wind from his fists, charged with Inner Strength, left faint white trails in the air with every punch. He was only a paper-thin barrier away from the Peak of Dark Energy.
Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, he saw his eldest senior brother, Xu Hong, walking in from the main gate. His usually gentle face was now grim. After a brief pause in the outer courtyard, he hurried into the inner courtyard.
"Senior Brother Yang." A mont later, Jiang Haoyang sidled up to him and whispered, "I just heard... the First Senior Brother is going to attempt a breakthrough to the Transford Strength realm."
Hearing this, Yang Jing’s fist froze in mid-motion, and his expression instantly turned grave.
A breakthrough on the Martial Dao was a montous event for any Martial Artist. This was especially true for Xu Hong. He was already thirty years old, an age where his vitality would soon begin its slow decline. He had already failed to break through to the Transford Strength realm twice before. This was his last chance.
If he failed again, it ant he would never reach the Transford Strength realm, and his journey on the Martial Dao would effectively be over.
’I hope our Senior Brother succeeds,’ Yang Jing thought, clenching his fists. He resud his practice, but his mind couldn’t help but waver.
...
The afternoon sun grew languid.
The disciples on the training grounds in the front courtyard were also distracted, their gazes drifting toward the inner courtyard from ti to ti.
Finally, the inner courtyard’s Moon Gate was pushed open, and Xu Hong walked out.
His face was so pale it was almost translucent, and his lips were colorless. He staggered, and had he not steadied himself against the doorfra, he likely would have collapsed the mont he stepped through.
His aura was chaotic and listless. His once-condensed Inner Strength had vanished, like air from a punctured ball.
Yang Jing’s heart suddenly sank.
By the looks of it... his senior brother... had failed again.
He hurried forward, wanting to offer so words of comfort, but Xu Hong held up a hand to stop him. His voice was as raspy as if it had been scraped with sandpaper. "I’m fine... I’m heading back."
Without giving anyone a second glance, he lowered his head and walked slowly out of the Martial Arts Hall, one step at a ti. His shadow stretched long in the sunlight, exuding an air of ineffable desolation.
"Haaaah..."
Standing not far away, Qi Yun watched Xu Hong’s retreating back, her eyes filled with a complex mix of emotions.
Zhao Wenzheng, beside her, was also silent. His usual arrogance was gone, replaced by an indescribable solemnity on his face.
After all, wasn’t Xu Hong’s fate today a potential glimpse into their own tomorrow?
The path of the Martial Dao grew more arduous the higher one climbed. The bottleneck between the Dark Energy and Transford Strength realms had thwarted countless geniuses.
They had already broken through to the Dark Energy realm, which was an outstanding achievent in itself. Yet, they had no confidence whatsoever that they could overco the next bottleneck to reach Transford Strength.
A hush fell over the training grounds in the front courtyard. Even the sound of the wind seed unusually sharp.
Yang Jing stood frozen in place, his heart heavy as well.
He could imagine the despair Xu Hong must be feeling—the helplessness that cos after all hope is exhausted.
But on second thought, he gently shook his head.
’But I’m different from the others.’
’I have my panel. I don’t have to worry about bottlenecks on the Martial Dao. As long as my Inner Strength reaches its peak, I’ll break through naturally.’
At this thought, most of the weight on his heart lifted.
Yang Jing took a deep breath, planted his feet again in the center of the training grounds, and let out a sharp cry as he once more began to practice the Mountain-Shattering Fist.
The wind from his fists was as fierce as ever, and his Inner Strength flowed with increasing smoothness, as if the earlier interruption had never occurred.
Qi Yun, watching from a distance, was taken aback by the sight.
She was still reeling from the First Senior Brother’s failure, too distracted to calm her mind and resu her own practice. Yet Yang Jing had managed to readjust his mindset in a re mont and was now completely focused on his training.
Such ntal fortitude, such focus... it was truly rare.
As she watched Yang Jing practice, the complexity in her gaze deepened.
...
「In the study of the inner courtyard.」
Sun Yong sat in a Grandmaster’s Chair, rolling two gleaming, polished iron balls in his hand, but his usual leisurely air was gone.
He gazed out the window at the bare plum branches and sighed softly.
He had already anticipated Xu Hong’s failure.
The hurdle of the Transford Strength realm was not one to be crossed so easily.
Xu Hong’s accumulated Inner Strength was solid, but it ultimately lacked a certain depth and power. He was still a fair bit away from even the minimum threshold required for a breakthrough to the Transford Strength realm.
And yet, he had let Xu Hong try anyway.
It was because Xu Hong was already thirty. His vitality was about to begin its slow descent from its peak. If he waited any longer, he might not even be qualified to make the attempt.
The path of the Martial Dao was a race against ti. Even with the slimst of hopes, one had to take the gamble.
"So be it. Everyone has their own destiny," Sun Yong murmured to himself. He set the iron balls on the table, his gaze tinged with lancholy.
...
「Front courtyard. The training grounds.」
Yang Jing was now at the most intense point of his Mountain-Shattering Fist practice.
As his fists beca a blur, Inner Strength surged through his ridians. Each punch landed with a muffled BOOM, shaking dust loose from the bluestone pavers.
He could clearly feel himself approaching the very limit of his current realm. The Peak of Dark Energy was drawing ever closer.
The sun gradually dipped westward, and soon it was 3:00 PM.
Yang Jing brought his practice to a close and stood firm. As he let out a long breath, a cloud of white vapor rose from his body—steam from his exertion eting the cool air.
At that sa mont, a thought stirred in his mind.
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