Zhao Shengli waved his hand, knitting his brows tightly, clutching his temples with both hands: Stop talking, stop talking!… Think! All of you, think! What on earth can be done!
Feng Dakun shook his head: Head Zhao, save your breath. There is only one way: earn merit!
Exactly. The military decree is out; no one can change it. Even the Commandant can only stare helplessly! Cai Yuzhang nodded, chuckling: Otherwise, how could that Xiong fellow get in?
Li Baolu gave a silly grin: Heh, don't worry. How skilled is the Monk? Killing a few more people won't be a problem!
That’s the truth. Cai Yuzhang laughed, saying to Li Muzhan: Monk, if you want to be promoted, you must kill more and gain more merits.
You all say it so easily! Zhao Shengli glared at the three of them irritably: Is the barracks your family’s property, where you can earn merit whenever you want? Talking nonsense in broad daylight, what nonsense!
After his tirade, everyone fell silent, lowering their heads in thought, unable to come up with any good plan.
Zhao Shengli snorted: A bunch of useless things! Monk, don’t worry about it. Focus entirely on training now. If you can really master your marksmanship, on the battlefield, killing will be like butchering chickens. Sixty lives, and you’ll have it all tallied up after one skirmish!
Exactly, exactly! Li Baolu echoed with a silly smile: Monk, I envy you being able to practice your spear skills. I’m going to be a general in the future!
Li Muzhan smiled, feeling warm inside, believing himself to be lucky.
What good luck meant was not obtaining some fortuitous encounter or mastering some secret Qigong art, but rather always meeting good people and witnessing the brilliance of human nature.
Zhao Shengli’s mouth was sharp, but he was warm-hearted. The other three were all benevolent; they were not the kind of people who were amicable on the surface but harbored malice underneath.
Li Muzhan smiled: Yes, Head Zhao. I will train hard and kill a few more on the battlefield. It’s no big deal; there’s no need to worry.
Sigh… You absolutely cannot break military regulations again; this is not a joke. Commander Li is a smiling tiger; he will never show favoritism. Zhao Shengli patted his shoulder.
Li Muzhan nodded with a smile, indicating he understood.
After talking for a while, everyone went to eat. After lunch, they rested briefly, then headed to the training ground. Li Muzhan held his long spear, feeling an extraordinary sense of closeness.
Holding the spear again, the feeling of the water and fish being one was marvelous. It was as if he had gained a deeper comprehension of the spear, allowing his movements to become seamless and his progress significant.
Instructor Zhang saw him, merely nodding, then proceeded to instruct the others on their saber techniques.
Li Muzhan could sense his concern. Zhang regarded him as a prized disciple but kept it understated, appearing no different from the others.
Li Muzhan knew this was also a form of protection, keeping him from drawing too much attention and avoiding the boundless future troubles born of jealousy.
After dinner, Li Muzhan continued practicing his spear until dark, then slowly returned to his tent.
Entering the tent, he paused in surprise. Xiong Sihai was actually there, along with his two lackeys, sitting on his cot, engaged in lively conversation with Zhao Shengli and the others.
Seeing him enter, everyone froze. Xiong Sihai stood up, cupped his hands in salute, and laughed heartily: Brother is back!… Brother is truly diligent; no wonder your skill is so formidable!
Hurry up and call him Big Brother! He slapped Xiao He on the back of the head.
Xiao He pouted reluctantly, and along with the other man, bowed slightly: Greetings, Big Brother!
Li Muzhan smiled and waved his hand: I dare not claim such a title… Xiong Sihai, you’re trying to force a duck onto a perch. As a new recruit, I truly cannot accept it.
Xiong Sihai waved his hand and said in a deep voice: In the barracks, strength is respected. Since your martial arts surpass ours, we acknowledge you as Big Brother! As for being new recruits or not, we don’t care about that.
Li Muzhan smiled, set down his spear, and asked Zhao Shengli: Head Zhao, they aren’t talking nonsense and disturbing everyone’s rest, are they?
Zhao Shengli laughed heartily: Alright, Monk, I never realized you looked so meek, yet you aren't ambiguous when it matters!
Li Muzhan stroked his thin mustache and gave a wry smile.
He had always kept a low profile, first gauging the situation, and he couldn't be bothered with trivial matters, merely agreeing along. He hadn't expected that in Head Zhao’s eyes, he truly appeared meek.
Li Baolu grinned foolishly: Fighting over twenty men alone—Monk, you’re incredible!
Feng Dakun nudged him aside and began polishing his broadsword. The blade shimmered with cold light; though it couldn't slice iron like mud, it was still a top-tier sword.
Cai Yuzhang smiled, rather smugly. Among everyone in the tent, he was the only one who recognized that this Monk was a formidable character and hadn't underestimated him.
Zhao Shengli burst out laughing: Monk, admit your loss in the bet. If you won, you must accept it. I say you just agree and don't make Brother Xiong look bad!
Li Muzhan shook his head with a wry smile: I have no desire to be any Big Brother.
Zhao Shengli clapped him on the shoulder and chuckled: Call you that in private, and in front of outsiders, you’ll just be the Monk, like us. How about that?
Li Muzhan was about to refuse when Xiong Sihai eagerly nodded: That works!… In front of outsiders, I’ll call you Great Monk, and normally, I’ll call you Big Brother.
Li Muzhan shook his head: Just call me Great Monk; don't call me Big Brother anymore.
Xiong Sihai readily agreed: Fine, it’s settled!
Only then did Li Muzhan breathe a sigh of relief, turning to say: It’s getting late; you all should return soon.
Yes, sir! Xiong Sihai cupped his hands, bid farewell to Zhao Shengli and the others, and then led his two men out of the tent.
Li Muzhan watched them leave, shaking his head repeatedly.
As soon as they were gone, Zhao Shengli pounced over, slapping Li Muzhan’s shoulder hard: Well, Monk, you are extraordinary, truly extraordinary!
Li Muzhan shrugged his shoulder, evading the bear-like pat, and smiled: It was just a fight, something I was forced into. What’s so extraordinary about that?
Zhao Shengli laughed heartily: The fact that you could handle Xiong Sihai like that is extraordinary!
Cai Yuzhang nodded: Indeed, Monk. You should know, Xiong Sihai is arrogant and supremely skilled; he holds no one in his eyes, not even the Commandant can do anything about him!
Li Muzhan shook his head, unconcerned.
Zhao Shengli clapped his shoulder again, his eyes wide: The perpetually defiant Xiong Sihai actually recognized you as Big Brother… You, you fool, why didn’t you agree!
Li Muzhan smiled but didn't argue. Naturally, he wouldn't say that being this Big Brother was no good thing; Xiong Sihai caused endless trouble, and being his Big Brother meant constantly cleaning up his messes.
For anyone else, being called that by Xiong Sihai would surely lead to excitement, and they might blurt out an agreement in their elation. But his heart was as still as water, his insight into human nature piercing; he knew there was no such easy prize in the world.
To outsiders, he appeared deep, possessing great presence, and detached.
Zhao Shengli shook his head endlessly: Monk, if it were me, I would have agreed long ago. Xiong Sihai is domineering, but he is also loyal and quite respected among our Swift Cavalry… Moreover, he is the Commandant’s brother-in-law!
Li Muzhan smiled faintly: He has influence?
Zhao Shengli laughed: You find that unbelievable?
Seeing Li Muzhan nod, he continued: Xiong Sihai is indeed overbearing, but when something truly requires effort, he pitches in… He’s just a bit rough around the edges, like me, with never a kind word coming out of his mouth!
Feng Dakun shook his head, unconvinced: Head Zhao, it’s best to keep clear of that man; he causes too much trouble. He’s hauled off to the Minglu Hall every other day!
Exactly. Cai Yuzhang nodded, saying to Li Muzhan: When it comes to brawls, he never gets a day off. If he doesn't stir up trouble, he feels uneasy all over!
The others buzzed with excitement for quite a while before finally bedding down.
In the following days, Xiong Sihai was not seen, and he was soon put out of mind as Li Muzhan focused entirely on martial arts cultivation. Palm techniques, saber techniques, and spear techniques consumed all his time.
The Flying Bear Palm saw immense progress. Ten days later, at noon, the training ground was deserted. The sun was blazing; everyone else had retreated to their tents to rest before the midday meal.
Only Li Muzhan was practicing his palm technique by the training ground. Just as he was about to conclude his set, a strange phenomenon occurred.
After practicing for an entire morning, he was dripping with sweat, and a churning heat current surged within him.
In the past, no matter how long he practiced, he wouldn't sweat. His stamina was boundless, his viscera robust; practicing for a whole morning never tired him, nor did it induce sweat.
Through sheer, focused, hard training, the internal heat grew deeper. The feeling during practice had shifted from soaking in a warm spring to being submerged in scalding hot water.
The currents boiled; his body felt both hot and wonderfully refreshed, like modern-day sauna sessions. After every practice, he would pour sweat, as if emerging from a hot bath.
At this moment, just as he was about to stop, his body suddenly trembled, and the surrounding heat currents became wildly agitated.
Normally, after concluding a practice, the heat currents would slowly dissipate, integrating into his body like a gentle rain on dry fields, making his body stronger and increasing his strength.
But today, after stopping, the rolling heat currents didn't subside; instead, they grew manic, crashing violently through his body, and they kept increasing in volume.
Li Muzhan was startled, and without hesitation, he immediately resumed executing the Flying Bear Palm forms.
This internal energy was different from the Qi cultivated through the Martial Arts Mental Method; his spirit could not influence it; he could only guide it through movement.
As the Flying Bear Palm unfolded, the rolling heat currents began to organize, ceasing their random surging, and the currents continued to increase.
Li Muzhan’s movements accelerated, shifting from slow to swift. Eventually, only a blur of shadow remained where his form had been, the air filled with palm images.
The heat currents followed suit, quickening and multiplying, eventually surging like rivers.
Boom… A thunderclap exploded in his mind, and his vision blackened, as if plunged into darkness.
In the pitch black, several bright spots suddenly flashed, like cold stars twinkling, before vanishing, and his vision returned to light.
He examined himself internally, a slight joy on his face. He had broken through the initial threshold, reaching the state of Guiding Qi to the Acupoints.
At this level, the major acupoints on his body were activated, beginning to accept and store internal energy. The Qi cultivated through practice no longer dissipated slowly as before.
Previously, the internal energy could not be stored; once the Flying Bear Palm practice concluded and he stopped, the Qi would vanish.
When fighting others, unless he first practiced the Flying Bear Palm for a while to heat up and moved while the Qi was surging, greatly increasing his power, he could only fight using his brute physical strength.
Fortunately, his inherent strength was immense, which is why he could contend with figures like Yue Feihu and Xiong Sihai.
Now, it was different. The acupoints were open, the internal energy could be stored, and when fighting, the Qi assisted, immensely boosting his power. His strength had suddenly increased by a large margin.
Li Muzhan looked up at the sky, narrowing his eyes at the sun directly overhead. He felt excited; he had finally taken the first step, truly entering the gateway of the Flying Bear Palm technique.
The air seemed exceptionally fresh. A gentle breeze brushed over him, drying the sweat on his body, leaving him cool and in excellent spirits.
He observed inwardly and discovered that these acupoints were identical to those activated when practicing the Martial Arts Mental Method.
However, when cultivating the Mental Method, the internal power was mostly stored in the Dantian, concentrated. Now, it was different: it was stored in the various acupoints, distributed.
Comparing the two, the Flying Bear Palm technique allowed for faster power release. Once action commenced, the internal energy surged directly from the various points, extremely quick, superior to drawing it from the Dantian.
But for him, his spirit was overwhelmingly strong, allowing for swift mobilization of internal energy, so the difference wasn't significant.
He concentrated his thoughts, wondering about the profound mystery of the dark vision and the twinkling cold stars—he intuitively felt this was no coincidence.
But what exactly was the mystery? There were too few clues to deduce anything.
He slowly began to move, practicing the Flying Bear Palm again. Immediately, the heat currents surged, flowing mightily with his movements, like rivers, possessing immense momentum.
This time, it was completely different from before. Where the movements landed, the internal energy followed. The power surging through his body was overwhelming, making him want to shout toward the heavens, experiencing a strong desire for destruction.
At this moment, he had a fleeting illusion, as if one palm strike could shatter anything.
He moved slowly, sensing the changes in his body: his muscles were tighter, more solid, and his strength greater. He believed his physical power had increased again.
He narrowed his eyes, seeming to see a faint glow on his palms. He suddenly stopped and went to a tree, practicing amidst the shade. Indeed, a faint luminescence adhered to his palms—a pale yellow light similar to his skin tone, easily overlooked if one wasn't paying close attention.
Under the pale yellow glow, his hand seemed to become crystal clear, like a piece of yellow jade, but due to the color, it wouldn't be noticed without careful observation.
Every top-tier martial art manifested different anomalous signs; this was nothing unusual. When he fought Xiong Sihai previously, his fists had shimmered with light—it seemed he had also reached this level through practice.
He slowly increased his speed, the heat currents rolling, the pace quickening.
He discovered a marvelous thing: as the movements became faster, the heat currents also sped up, and with every repetition of practice, the internal energy increased by a fixed amount, constant regardless of speed. If he practiced twice in the same time frame, the internal energy would naturally double.
This greatly increased efficiency.
Of course, practicing quickly consumed more effort than practicing slowly, and it was easier to exhaust physical stamina. With the same amount of stamina, slow practice might sustain two sets of palm forms, but fast practice could only sustain one—thus, it was a net loss.
But Li Muzhan was different. What he lacked was not stamina. His body, tempered by the Indestructible Vajra Divine Art, was incredibly robust, and his stamina was immense enough to sustain dozens of repetitions.