The Martial Academy was far more pragmatic than Zhao Xuan had imagined.
Upon learning that he hailed from a mountain village and seeing his threadbare clothes, Teacher Wu did not spare him a single honest glance from start to finish. He waved a hand lazily and said, "Lin Hong, take your Junior Brother Zhao and show him around the academy."
"Understood, Master," replied a sharp-featured man, cupping his fists in salute.
As he led Zhao Xuan away, he began his introduction: "Junior Brother Zhao, we belong to the Chunlai Courtyard. Along with the Xiazhi, Qiuju, and Donglin Courtyards, we are collectively known as the Outer Court..."
Through Lin Hong’s explanation, Zhao Xuan gained a preliminary understanding of the academy. The Outer Court was open to anyone with the money to pay, but the true elite were gathered in the Inner Court. To take the county examination, one had to enter the Inner Court first—and to enter the Inner Court, one had to pass a strict assessment.
Zhao Xuan wanted to inquire further, but Lin Hong advised him not to rush, given he was new. As they walked, Lin Hong began to probe into Zhao Xuan’s family background, asking where he lived, how much land he owned, and what his annual harvest looked like. Zhao Xuan merely stated that he lived in Dishan Village and played dumb to everything else.
Seeing how guarded he was, Lin Hong’s eyes darted about, and he led him toward the dormitories. "Look here, Junior Brother. This is the free dormitory—a communal room for four. Over there are the private rooms, which only cost two silver coins a month. Which would you prefer?"
Zhao Xuan thought for a moment and chose the private room. Firstly, two silver coins were not much. Secondly, he was not accustomed to living with strangers. Moreover, the academy did not forbid leaving; once the initial dust settled, he could return to Dishan Village to hunt and earn money.
Next, Lin Hong brought him to the canteen. "There are several tiers of food. The cheapest is five wen per meal, consisting of both meat and vegetables. The most expensive is the medicinal meal, which costs one silver tael per portion. It’s limited to a hundred portions daily and requires a reservation."
"Mealtime is approaching. Would you like to order one to try?"
Seeing Zhao Xuan’s flat refusal, Lin Hong formed his own judgment: the new junior brother had a little pocket money but came from an ordinary background. He pulled Zhao Xuan aside and said earnestly, "Junior Brother, now that you’ve come to the Martial Academy, there are some things you ought to understand."
Zhao Xuan was confused. "Please, Senior Brother, enlighten me."
After hearing what Lin Hong had to say, Zhao Xuan’s head buzzed. The academy’s model was not the traditional teacher-disciple system; there was no such thing as "a teacher for a day, a father for life." Simply put, there was no emotional bond between the presiding teachers and their disciples. The teachers lectured, but the disciples were free to ignore them. Conversely, the teachers did not care whether the disciples put in any effort.
This had led to a bizarre phenomenon: the teachers’ lectures were all empty filler with no real substance. If a disciple wanted to learn true techniques, they had to spend time and effort buttering up their teacher.
So, Teacher Wu’s indifference wasn't just because he looked down on the poor; it was mostly because there was no profit to be made from him.
Wait—why was Lin Hong telling him this? Zhao Xuan looked at the earnest-looking man and gradually realized how deep the ruse went. Lin Hong had been assigned by Teacher Wu; there was no way he would believe these words weren't orchestrated by the teacher himself. This "hot and cold" act was truly well-coordinated. If Zhao Xuan hadn't been poor, he surely would have been baited into the trap.
He replied, "Thank you for the advice, Senior Brother. I’ll keep that in mind," while simultaneously dismissing it from his mind. It wouldn't be so easy to trick him out of his money.
...
After getting settled, Zhao Xuan headed to the Martial Arts Pavilion. As the name suggested, this was where the techniques were kept. One of the few benefits of the academy was that techniques were free. However, there was a rule: each student could only claim one technique per year for free, and it could not be shared with outsiders.
The techniques in the pavilion were varied and mostly named after animals, such as the Five Tigers Severing Door Saber, the White Crane Spreading Wings Fist, and the Savage Bull Strength. The "Savage Bull Strength" Zhao Xuan practiced was among them.
Greed leads to failure; furthermore, Zhao Xuan didn't want to be branded with the crime of stealing techniques, so he chose "Savage Bull Strength." Once he had the book in hand, he discovered it was fully twenty pages long—twice the size of the copy he had seen before.
Opening it, the first page detailed the origin of the technique. It told of a martial artist who lived with cattle for twenty years and created the method by observing their habits and movements. The second page described the effects at each stage.
The final paragraph read: "When practiced to perfection, Internal Force will manifest of its own accord, granting the strength of a bull."
Zhao Xuan narrowed his eyes. This seemed different from what he had been practicing. He flipped to the back and found that the illustrations and annotations were exactly the same as what he knew. Same technique, different effect? There were only two possibilities: either the records were wrong, or the "perfection" described in the book wasn't the same as his. Zhao Xuan leaned toward the latter—the technique was public; he was certainly not the only one practicing it. If it were wrong, someone would have corrected it by now.
"You have read the complete version of Savage Bull Strength. Your understanding has deepened, and Savage Bull Strength has improved."
"Savage Bull Strength: 3/100."
The sudden notification interrupted his thoughts. Just by reading the complete version, the results were better than days of practicing the incomplete version? Zhao Xuan closed the book and started again from the first page, reading it with extreme focus, ruminating on every word and sentence.
From the twelfth page onward, the text discussed the author's personal understanding of the technique. The author believed that the essence of "Savage Bull Strength" lay in imitating the movements of the bull. For instance, in the first illustration, the figure had one foot raised and one bent—this represented the bull’s stomp. In the second, the figure leaned his back against a tree, imitating the bull rubbing its hide...
Having finished it, Zhao Xuan finally understood why his progress had been so slow. He suspected he had only been imitating the form, not the spirit. To be blunt, if not for his high talent, which allowed him to make progress even with blind practice, he never would have mastered the art.
To test his theory, he began to practice according to the author’s insights. After one pass, a notification appeared:
"You have mastered a more precise way to practice. Savage Bull Strength has improved."
"Savage Bull Strength: 4/100."
It truly was a case of "a single word of true instruction being worth more than ten thousand scrolls of false writing." With the correct method, for Zhao Xuan, it boiled down to one thing: if it doesn't kill you, practice until you're dead.
He practiced from morning until night. Aside from eating, Zhao Xuan barely rested. After a full day of diligent work, his Savage Bull Strength improved once more. At this rate, he could reach perfection in three months—far faster than the two years he had originally estimated. From that perspective, those two silver coins were well spent.
During this time, the presiding teacher, Wu Jie, came to see him once. Seeing him buried in hard practice, a sneer flickered across his face. *Do you think you’re a genius who can master a peerless art just by reading two books?* He had specifically sent Lin Hong to guide Zhao Xuan so that Lin Hong could privately coach him; if he wanted to learn martial arts, he had to butter up the teacher first. He had expected Zhao Xuan to come begging for guidance once he realized this. Then, depending on Zhao Xuan's "sincerity," he would give appropriate pointers.
Who would have thought Zhao Xuan was so thick-headed that he would just start practicing on his own? He decided to let him stew for a few days. Once Zhao Xuan suffered enough setbacks, he would let Lin Hong nudge him again. He had been a teacher for many years, and this tactic had never failed; he had yet to see anyone who wouldn't eventually fall in line.
Zhao Xuan saw Wu Jie, too, and could guess his intentions. If he had money, he wouldn't mind paying to be guided in "Savage Bull Strength." With an expert’s advice, his progress would surely skyrocket. But he had no money, so he could only play the fool and gamble his sweat for a future.
As the sky began to darken, Zhao Xuan finished his practice and headed to the canteen. He grabbed a standard meal, devoured it, and was just about to leave when several people surrounded him. The leader was a small, round-faced youth with squinted eyes. He looked at Zhao Xuan from the side and asked flippantly, "You're the new guy?"