"Heh, very good. Wealth is worthless compared to a skill you can rely on," the Commandant said with approval, smiling. "What are you currently practicing?"

"Flying Bear Palm," Li Muzhan replied.

"Show me." The Commandant waved his hand and entered the main hall. Li Muzhan set down his bow, handed over the reins, nodded his thanks to the two armored guards, and followed him inside.

This was a rare opportunity; the Commandant was in high spirits. One must strike while the iron is hot; there was no room for modesty. Gaining power was the most important thing.

Although military martial arts were undoubtedly profound, the methods available to ordinary soldiers were limited in their excellence. To become a general, one needed to master superior martial arts. The army was no different from the martial world; how could common disciples compare to direct disciples?

Inside the main hall, after the four were seated, Li Muzhan began demonstrating the Flying Bear Palm.

With profound weight and nimble agility combined, the true essence of the Flying Bear Palm was fully unleashed, embodying its deepest mysteries. All four watched, nodding repeatedly.

To reach such a level of proficiency in such a short time was truly remarkable; he was a talent worth nurturing.

When Li Muzhan finished his demonstration, the Commandant stroked his beard and nodded, "Hmm, not bad."

His expression was calm, yet his inherent authority shone through, an imposing aura pressing down without the need for anger. Li Muzhan mused that this kind of presence came partly from constantly holding a high position, and partly from his martial arts.

He paused in thought, then said, "How about this: I practice the Lesser Dragon Form; you shall practice that as well."

"That cannot be!" The Right Commandant sprang to his feet, his face drastically altered.

Everyone looked at him. The Right Commandant's face was ashen, and he said in a deep voice, "Commandant, reconsider... The Lesser Dragon Form is a peak secret art; how can it be taught so lightly?"

Commandant Hu chuckled, "Mingkong, what good fortune you have! The Lesser Dragon Form is a secret art only those at the Commandant level are qualified to practice. You've only just started practicing it!"

The Right Commandant shot him a cold, sideways glare.

Commandant Hu smiled, "Mingkong, although you performed a great service, receiving the Lesser Dragon Form is due to the Commandant's generosity. Thank him quickly!"

Li Muzhan smiled, executed a military salute, "Thank you, Commandant. Your subordinate will fight bravely and kill the enemy."

"Heh, Old Hu, don't worry. I never take back my word," the Commandant laughed, turning to the Right Commandant. "Old Ma, there is no need to say more; it is decided."

"But Commandant..." the Right Commandant urged anxiously.

The Commandant waved his hand with a smile, "As for Mingkong's archery and riding skills, forget our Black Tiger Battalion—even the entire Divine Might Grand Camp wouldn't have better skills. ...Right?"

The Right Commandant slowly nodded.

He disdained to tell obvious lies; Li Muzhan's archery had genuinely stunned him. It was rare in this age.

The Commandant laughed, "What will you two battalions do if you encounter the Black Eagle Cavalry?"

The Right Commandant's face flushed, and he shook his head with a wry smile.

"We must rely on Mingkong," the Commandant chuckled, looking gently at Mingkong. "Our restraint against the Black Eagle Cavalry depends entirely on Mingkong. If anything were to happen to him, wouldn't it be like throttling our own throat?"

He continued, "If you were a Black Eagle Rider, would you try to assassinate Mingkong?"

"Mmm..." the Right Commandant slowly nodded.

"Though the Lesser Dragon Form is marvelous, given Mingkong's skill with horse and arrow, he would have to learn it sooner or later. It’s better to start early, giving him one more means of self-preservation, wouldn't you say?" the Commandant reasoned.

"...The Commandant is wise," the Right Commandant conceded, clasping his fists unwillingly before slowly sitting back down.

The Commandant turned and smiled, "Mingkong, starting tomorrow, come here after dinner, and I will teach you the Lesser Dragon Form."

Li Muzhan bowed in assent, a slight smile touching his usually placid face.

Afterward, he stated his plans: leaving seven horses behind, and selling the remaining thirty-three to the Grand Camp, wondering if that arrangement would be acceptable.

The Commandant roared with laughter upon hearing this. "Good, good! Mingkong, we accept this favor... Rest assured, the price will certainly not put you at a loss."

The Left Commandant followed with a few chuckles, "Mingkong, your group now has eight people, why only keep seven horses?"

"I only need the Red Shadow," Li Muzhan replied.

The Left Commandant laughed, "The Red Shadow is a fine horse, fast, but ill-tempered—no one else can manage it. Yet, under your handling, it becomes docile. A treasured steed truly belongs with a hero."

Li Muzhan smiled but remained silent, while the Right Commandant kept a stern face and said nothing.

Clearly, he was deeply surprised by Li Muzhan being allowed to learn the Lesser Dragon Form, but a higher rank commands absolute authority. Since the Commandant had made up his mind, the Right Commandant could not obstruct him.

"All right, you seem uncomfortable here. Go on," the Commandant said, waving his hand.

Li Muzhan bowed in salute, turned, and left the main hall. Back in the Cavalry Camp, the men pressed him for details. Li Muzhan recounted what happened, stirring up great envy among them.

Saving someone single-handedly amidst the Black Eagle Cavalry was no ordinary feat. Though envious, they weren't overwhelmingly jealous.

People tend to envy those slightly superior to them, but they only admire those far beyond their reach, whom they cannot even hope to touch. Such is human nature.

Li Muzhan's choice to be high-profile had this deeper meaning as well.

When they heard Li Muzhan was leaving seven horses for his comrades, they were hugely envious, their mouths watering.

In the Great Yan Dynasty, horses were scarce and thus highly valued, with prices soaring.

These mounts from the Black Eagle Cavalry were especially magnificent and therefore even more expensive. Even after serving for years, they could never afford such a steed.

A fine horse in those days was worth as much as a modern sports car—something the average person could never possess.

Zhao Shengli and the others laughed heartily and made no pretense of refusing.

As Li Muzhan spoke, warm vapor rose from the Yongquan acupoints beneath his feet, and his inner power continuously flowed in, injecting into the Qi Membrane, slowly strengthening it.

He realized that once the Qi Membrane formed, it seemed to replace the acupoints as the repository for inner power. All his inner power flowed into the membrane, continuously thickening it.

His inner power flowed inexhaustibly, yet the membrane showed no visible thickening. Even with his clear inner vision, he sensed no change, as if this power was being channeled elsewhere—a truly peculiar phenomenon.

Regarding military versus martial inner power, he was gradually gaining clarity, his comprehension deepening. Military inner power roamed freely within the muscles, formless like water, without fixed positions like the earth.

Martial inner power, however, could only circulate within the meridians and could not move freely at will.

The fundamental difference was that martial inner power was controlled by the spirit (Shen), making it agile and unrestrained, while military inner power could not be directed by spirit and could only be regulated through posture.

Furthermore, military inner power could only affect the muscles, granting immense strength and speed but unable to extend beyond the body—useless against external objects. Martial inner power, however, could leave the body, intangible yet substantive, affecting external things.

He increasingly felt that military inner power was entangled with the body, inextricably linked—you in me, I in you—whereas martial inner power was independent of the body, forming its own system.

Military inner power altered the body, making it stronger, thereby increasing physical power. Martial inner power enhanced power by cultivating the internal force itself, bringing about minimal change to the body.

He felt deeply that if he could cultivate both, gaining a stronger physique and an external reservoir of energy, the combined power would surely be far greater.

Alas, the two could not coexist; one had to be chosen over the other.

Night soon arrived. During the evening meal, Li Muzhan left the Cavalry Camp and headed to the Black Tiger Hall.

Li Muzhan now understood: the Divine Might Camp was a large encampment of ten thousand troops, subdivided into several sub-camps. Li Muzhan belonged to the Black Tiger Camp, comprising just over a thousand men.

And within the Black Tiger Camp, there were further sub-camps, including the Cavalry Camp (where he was) and the Flying Cavalry Camp.

Though they all shared the name 'Camp,' one camp differed from another. Veterans knew the distinction, new recruits were somewhat confused, and outsiders found it even more baffling: the same designation 'Camp' might refer to two hundred men, a thousand, or ten thousand.

The Black Tiger Hall was brightly lit. He glanced around and saw about forty armored guards; the torchlight reflected off their armor, creating a chilling gleam.

Holding a token, Li Muzhan had passage rights and walked directly past the outer guards to the entrance of the main hall. A small, thin guard waved him to a stop.

This guard went inside to announce him, then quickly returned and waved again. Li Muzhan entered the hall.

Several tallow candles illuminated the hall as if it were daylight. The Commandant was practicing with his saber.

He stood on thick, soft carpet, wielding a great long saber, reminiscent of Guan Yu's Green Dragon Crescent Blade.

The blade flashed with cold light, yet the heavy saber was wielded with serpentine agility, circling his body in a defense so tight that water could not penetrate. A chilling aura saturated the hall, causing the temperature to drop sharply.

After Li Muzhan entered, the Commandant continued his practice without stopping. The chill intensified, the saber winds grew stronger, and the tallow flames flickered, causing the hall to strobe between light and shadow.

Li Muzhan stood quietly to the side, nodding inwardly. It was indeed a precious blade, in no way inferior to the curved saber he himself possessed.

"Haa..." With a long exhale, the hall suddenly dimmed. The saber stopped moving, and the Commandant let out a long breath. His entire person seemed to have shed weight, his spirit and energy weakening, reverting to that of an ordinary man.

Looking at his appearance now, he didn't seem like a martial artist; his belly protruded slightly, like a middle-aged man growing soft. Though he retained his imposing aura, it seemed more like the profound righteousness acquired from deep scholarship.

"Commandant," Li Muzhan said, clasping his fists.

The Commandant raised his hand, and the long saber flew outwards, passing the screen in the corner and falling behind it.

Li Muzhan, possessing the Eye of the Void, knew there was a weapons rack behind the screen, and the saber landed perfectly on it—a testament to consummate familiarity.

The Commandant stroked his beard and smiled, "Mingkong, come early and have dinner with me."

"Yes, sir," Li Muzhan replied, not declining.

"Come, I shall teach you the Lesser Dragon Form." The Commandant beckoned him over.

When Li Muzhan approached, the Commandant said, "The Lesser Dragon Form is one of the supreme secret arts of our military. It must not be taught to outsiders."

"Yes," Li Muzhan nodded solemnly.

"Military martial arts cultivate the body through Qi, condense the Qi, and strengthen the Spirit (Shen). This is the path we follow. When a person's essence, Qi, and Spirit are strong, they naturally extend their longevity... It's a pity that progress in military martial arts is difficult, and people often fail to reach the level of Spirit strength. Hence the common prejudice that military arts deplete lifespan and cannot extend life."

Li Muzhan nodded; he seemed to recall such talk—that military arts built a strong body at the cost of burning through one's lifespan, resulting in robust bodies during intense training but leading to ailments and short lives after middle age.

It was like manual laborers whose bodies looked strong but suffered numerous problems and died young once they passed their prime. This notion was deeply ingrained, and Li Muzhan had somewhat believed it.

The Commandant laughed, "These are the views of dullards and vulgar people. How can they know that a person's lifespan depends on the strength of their Spirit? All our old generals lived past a hundred, their health surpassing that of young men."

Li Muzhan smiled and nodded.

The Commandant continued, "The Lesser Dragon Form follows precisely this path. Beyond the Lesser Dragon Form is the Greater Dragon Form, a higher level. When the Spirit is strong, Qi overflows; when Qi overflows, clouds gather. The tiger follows the wind, and the dragon follows the clouds—hence the name 'Dragon Form.'"

Seeing the confusion on Li Muzhan's face, the Commandant clarified, "Just remember this: achieving mastery of the Lesser Dragon Form is not easy. As for the Greater Dragon Form, it is not taught to anyone below the rank of General, and I have not learned it myself."

Li Muzhan pondered this, appearing thoughtful.

"The Lesser Dragon Form has nine postures. Today, I will teach you the first," the Commandant announced.

Saying this, he slightly separated his feet, gently pushed both hands forward, and held the position, turning his head to ask, "Did you see clearly?"

Li Muzhan nodded, his expression puzzled.

The Commandant retracted his posture and smiled, "Do you find it too simple?"

Li Muzhan nodded sheepishly.

The Commandant chuckled, "The nine postures of the Lesser Dragon Form—each posture looks incredibly simple, indistinguishable from normal, everyday movements. This is why it is called the Dragon Form."

Subsequently, he began to instruct. Only when Li Muzhan started practicing did he realize that while the movements were simple, the execution was difficult. Every part—hands, feet, knees, hips, shoulders, elbows, wrists, fingers—had extremely precise requirements.

Memorizing these critical points was a headache for most, but Li Muzhan's photographic memory saved him from this trouble. Coupled with his ability to multitask, he progressed much faster than ordinary people.

After an hour, Li Muzhan had grasped the basics. He felt a burning sensation on his back, as if lightly scorched, generating enough heat to cause sweating.

He was inwardly astonished; such slight movements should not produce such a profound effect. Given his constitution, running for half an hour wouldn't even make him sweat.

The Commandant stroked his beard and nodded, smiling, "Yes, Mingkong, your talent is extraordinary... It took me a great deal of effort to learn this first posture when I was your age."

Li Muzhan adopted a look of embarrassment; he found it impossible to respond to such praise, but that specific expression always served him well.

"...Perhaps we should stop for today. We mustn't rush," the Commandant mused for a moment, finally shaking his head. "I will teach you the next posture tomorrow. Go back and practice this one diligently, understanding it deeply. The Lesser Dragon Form is truly exquisite."

"Yes," Li Muzhan nodded. The Lesser Dragon Form was indeed profound.

Over the next eight days, Li Muzhan dined with the Commandant every evening. The meals were much like those of the others, only with two extra dishes, sometimes wild game, sometimes mountain delicacies.

After eating these, Li Muzhan noticed his inner power increased noticeably. He understood that the Commandant's diet was highly specialized, a fortune ordinary soldiers lacked.

In nine days, he mastered the Lesser Dragon Form. Practicing the nine postures together produced a vastly different effect; after completing one full set, he was drenched in sweat, finding the exertion utterly exhilarating.

When he finished, the Commandant told him he didn't need to come again. He presented Li Muzhan with a military treatise—The Explication of Lieque—instructing him to study it well for future use.

Later, Vice-Marshal Li delivered a stack of banknotes representing the earnings from selling the horses.

PS: This recent burst of output has truly exhausted me. My head feels foggy. Today is the weekend, my wife is working overtime, and I stayed home, writing all day only to produce this little bit. I am ashamed. V