Chapter 233: Chapter 113: Lin Yue’s Decision
At the peak of their intense spar, Sun Yong suddenly spoke, his voice calm yet piercing. "Pay close attention."
Yang Jing was instantly alert, his focus narrowing in a flash. He fixed his eyes on his master, subconsciously slowing his breathing.
Sun Yong abandoned his previously defensive stance. He stepped back slightly with his right foot, twisted his waist gently, and slowly clenched his right hand into a fist.
It was the opening stance of the Mountain-Shattering Fist, but when he executed it, it seemed to embody some profound principle.
Before the punch was even thrown, an aura as solid as a mountain began to spread. Though the fist was only pushing forward slowly, to Yang Jing, it felt like a great mountain was crashing down on him, completely inescapable.
’Is this the true essence of the Mountain-Shattering Fist?’
Shaken to his core, Yang Jing subconsciously threw a punch to meet it.
He wanted to see just what the difference was between his own Mountain-Shattering Fist and that of a Huajin Powerhouse.
When the two fists were still an inch apart, Yang Jing suddenly felt an incredibly pure force pierce the air. It was like an invisible needle, drilling into the meridians of his arm.
The force seemed gentle, yet it carried an unstoppable sharpness. Wherever it passed, the latent strength circulating smoothly within his body showed faint signs of falling into disarray.
’So this is how Huajin-level masters injure their opponents from within?’ A chill ran down Yang Jing’s spine. He quickly focused his mind to stabilize his Inner Strength and tried to resist.
The next moment, the two fists collided.
THUD!
With a muffled impact, Yang Jing felt an irresistible force surge from his opponent’s fist. It was far more condensed and domineering than he had ever imagined.
The Inner Strength in his master’s fist was like a river bursting its dam, instantly shattering his defenses and surging through the meridians of his arm into his body.
His prideful latent strength was as fragile as paper before this Huajin force, crumbling in an instant.
Yang Jing stumbled back four or five steps, the snow crunching under his feet, before he finally managed to regain his balance.
He looked down at his slightly numb fist. The Inner Strength in his body was still in turmoil, but his face showed no frustration. Instead, it was filled with excitement and a newfound understanding.
In that brief moment, he had clearly perceived the profundity of Huajin.
It was the ability to project tumultuous Inner Strength to injure an opponent, at a level of condensation far surpassing latent strength. This was a qualitative leap.
Yang Jing closed his eyes, replaying the details of that punch over and over in his mind: his master’s force generation, the trajectory of his Inner Strength, the gathering of his aura... Every detail was crystal clear, as if it had been branded upon his memory.
Sun Yong remained where he was, not stepping forward. He simply watched Yang Jing quietly, a hint of approval in his eyes.
Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of his daughter’s doorway. Sun Ningxiang had appeared there at some point and was now standing there, watching the courtyard with wide eyes, a faint blush still on her cheeks.
Their eyes met. Like a little thief caught in the act, Sun Ningxiang’s cheeks flushed. She hastily turned back into her room, and the door closed softly behind her, leaving only the briefest impression of her slender silhouette.
A moment later, Yang Jing slowly opened his eyes, a sharp glint flashing within them for an instant before vanishing.
He bowed deeply to Sun Yong, his tone respectful and sincere. "Thank you for your guidance, Master. I have benefited greatly and will go back and contemplate it carefully."
Sun Yong smiled and waved a dismissive hand. "You managed to stabilize yourself after a single blow. That’s already quite impressive. Don’t be discouraged. Even among Huajin experts, I am considered to be at the highest level. There is no shame in losing to me."
He paused, then added, "Come see me here again tomorrow at 3:00 PM."
"Yes, Master. I’ll take my leave now," Yang Jing replied, then turned and headed toward the outer courtyard.
As he passed through the Moon Gate, he was still contemplating the profundity of his master’s punch.
Sun Yong stood in the courtyard, watching Yang Jing’s retreating figure with his hands clasped behind his back. One eyebrow was slightly raised, but a faint smile played on his lips.
He gently rubbed his fist and murmured to himself, "This kid’s constitution is quite good. His fists are incredibly hard, almost as if he’s practiced some kind of hardening technique. He’s much more solid than I was at his age."
...
After leaving the inner courtyard, Yang Jing paused for a moment beside the training grounds in the front courtyard.
Jiang Haoyang was still engrossed in his training, each of his movements executed with decent form. However, unlike before, there was a new determination in his eyes, inspired by Yang Jing.
"Haoyang, I’m heading back now."
Yang Jing walked over and patted his shoulder. "Get some rest tonight; don’t train too late."
"Yeah! Don’t worry, Senior Brother!"
Jiang Haoyang stopped his movements and nodded emphatically. Watching Yang Jing’s retreating figure, he clenched his fists and resumed his training with even greater zeal.
When Yang Jing left the Martial Arts Hall, dusk was already settling in. The sun’s last rays filtered through the clouds, bathing the snow-covered streets in a pale, golden-red light.
The other disciples at the Martial Arts Hall were also packing up and leaving in twos and threes, their conversations drifting through the air. Words like "Senior Brother Yang" and "Flying Horse Thieves" could occasionally be heard.
Xu Hong had just finished packing up when he saw Zhao Wenzheng approaching. He greeted him with a smile, "Third Junior Brother, are you free tonight? Want to grab a couple of drinks?"
Zhao Wenzheng waved him off. "Not tonight, First Senior Brother. I have something to do. I’ll treat you another time."
Xu Hong didn’t insist, just smiled and nodded. "Alright, some other time then."
Only after Xu Hong’s figure had disappeared at the alley’s entrance did Zhao Wenzheng turn and exit the Martial Arts Hall.
He didn’t head back to the Inner City. Instead, he crossed a street, casually bought a few items, and turned into another alley in Chengping Square.
A plaque hung before the courtyard at the end of the alley, reading "Jishi Medical Hall." By now, lanterns were already lit in front of its main gate.
Moving with familiarity, Zhao Wenzheng pushed open a side door, passed the medicine cabinets in the front hall, and made his way to the rear courtyard.
Light glowed from the window of a side room in the rear courtyard. He walked up to the door and knocked gently. "Junior Brother Lin, it’s me."
