High Martial Arts: Enlightenment after Practices

The Mountain-Smashing Fist pursued the ultimate path of External Skills. It emphasized Breaking technique with sheer force—a single punch could feel like the collapse of a towering mountain.

Wang Hanshan had trained this Fist Technique to the pinnacle of perfection. It was said that he once shattered a ten-meter-thick alloy target board with a single blow.

It was the ultimate expression of ”heaviness.”

Xu Wuyi closed the file and leaned back in his chair. His Great Marsh Heart Image also carried the Rules of ”heaviness,” but it differed from Wang Hanshan’s.

The heaviness of the Great Marsh was encompassing and condensed, much like how the Earth supported all living things. In contrast, the heaviness of the Mountain-Smashing Fist was explosive and destructive, akin to an earth-shattering landslide.

Which of these two types of heaviness was stronger?

Perhaps there was no superior or inferior, only different paths.

The station broadcast chimed, announcing that ticket checks for the train had begun.

Xu Wuyi stood up and followed the crowd toward the platform.

The sky finally cleared up as the train departed Red River City.

Sunlight spilled through the windows, casting a warm glow. Sitting by the window, Xu Wuyi watched the scenery blur past. Farmlands, villages, small towns, and mountain forests flashed by in rapid succession.

Dongjiang Province was predominantly made up of plains. The terrain was flat, offering an expansive and unobstructed view. As the train sped along at five hundred kilometers per hour, the world outside merged into streaks of vibrant color.

Xu Wuyi closed his eyes and tried to enter a meditative state, but his mind felt somewhat restless.

It wasn’t nervousness or anticipation, but rather a faint sense of agitation. It felt as though something deep within his heart was stirring, yearning to break through the soil, yet unable to find its direction.

He opened his eyes and looked out the window.

The sunlight was just right.

Su’an Province, Langya City.

This city was famous for its mountains. The outskirts featured rolling hills, and while the main peak—Mount Langya—only sat at an elevation of eight hundred meters, its steep slopes and jagged, bizarre rock formations made it a renowned tourist destination.

Wang Hanshan’s residence was not in the urban district; rather, it was nestled deep within Mount Langya.

By the time Xu Wuyi stepped off the high-speed rail in Langya City, it was already one in the afternoon. After grabbing a quick lunch near the station, he hailed a cab and gave the driver the address Wang Hanshan had provided.

The driver, a man in his fifties, paused upon hearing the destination.

”Young man, what are you going there for? That place is extremely remote. Nobody ever goes there on a normal day.”

”I’m visiting an elder,” Xu Wuyi replied.

The driver scrutinized him through the rearview mirror, his gaze lingering on the spear bag slung across Xu Wuyi’s back for a few seconds, but he didn’t press the matter further.

The car drove out of the city limits, winding its way up the mountain road. The higher they climbed, the sparser the traffic became. By the time they reached the halfway point up the mountain, not a single other vehicle was in sight.

Dense forests flanked both sides of the road. Occasionally, a few dilapidated buildings would peek through the foliage—mostly abandoned sanatoriums or old guesthouses.

After another twenty minutes of driving, the driver pulled over at a fork in the road.

”The road ends here,” the driver said, pointing at a narrow concrete path splitting off from the intersection. ”You’ll have to walk up from here. It’s probably another ten minutes or so on foot.”

Xu Wuyi paid the fare and got out of the car.

The concrete path was incredibly narrow, barely wide enough for a single car to pass. The surface was riddled with cracks where stubborn weeds sprouted. Flanked by an even thicker canopy of trees that completely blocked out the sunlight, the road felt somewhat eerie and gloomy.

Carrying his spear bag, he hiked up the paved trail. His footsteps echoed with stark clarity through the silent mountain woods.

After walking for about seven or eight minutes, an iron gate appeared ahead. Though speckled with rust, the gate remained sturdy. Beyond it lay a flagstone path winding deeper into the forest.

The gate was unlocked.

Xu Wuyi pushed it open and stepped through.

The trail meandered upwards, lined with neatly trimmed bushes and a few ancient trees. After about three minutes of walking, the view suddenly opened up.

It was a spacious clearing. In the center sat an old-fashioned house built of Qing bricks and tiles. A stone table and matching stools rested in the front yard, while a vibrant vegetable garden occupied the back.

An elderly man dressed in gray cotton clothes was squatting in the garden, holding a small trowel as he seemingly weeded the patch.

Hearing the approaching footsteps, the old man looked up. He had grizzled gray hair, thick eyebrows, and eyes as sharp as a hawk’s. Despite his crouched position, it was obvious that he possessed a tall, imposing frame with broad shoulders. The muscular contours beneath his simple clothes were faintly visible.

This was none other than Wang Hanshan.

The former Patriarch of the Wang Family and a veteran Quasi-Grandmaster powerhouse now looked like an ordinary, vegetable-tending old man—save for his terrifyingly robust musculature.

Xu Wuyi stopped in his tracks and gave a slight bow.

”Mr. Wang, I am Xu Wuyi. I’ve come to pay you a visit.”

Wang Hanshan set aside his trowel and stood up. He brushed the dirt from his hands and walked over. His strides were exceptionally steady, each step planting firmly into the earth, exuding the imposing presence of a moving mountain.

”You’re here,” Wang Hanshan said, his deep, resonant voice laced with a smile. ”A bit earlier than we agreed.”

”The journey was smooth, so I arrived early,” Xu Wuyi said.

Approaching closer, Wang Hanshan scrutinized Xu Wuyi carefully. His gaze was blunt and entirely undisguised, sweeping over Xu Wuyi from head to toe like a pair of brushes.

”Not bad,” Wang Hanshan nodded. ”You look even younger than in your files. Twenty-three years old... Tsk. When I was twenty-three, I was still learning how to hold a horse stance from my master.”

Xu Wuyi did not reply.

Wang Hanshan chuckled and pointed at the stone table. ”Have a seat. I don’t have much to offer here, just some homegrown tea. Make do with it.”

The two sat down at the stone table.

Wang Hanshan went inside the house and brought out an iron kettle and two coarse pottery cups. Steam wafted from the hot water inside the kettle. He poured the tea into both cups. The liquid was a rich amber hue, carrying a faint, refreshing fragrance.

”Give it a try. It’s wild mountain tea. The taste isn’t half bad.”

Xu Wuyi picked up his cup and took a sip.

It was slightly bitter, but the sweet aftertaste blossomed quickly, carrying the distinct earthy essence of the wilderness.

”Good tea.”

”Haha, you’re the only one who thinks so,” Wang Hanshan said, taking a sip himself. ”Those disciples of mine all complain that it’s too bitter and that they can’t get used to it.”

Xu Wuyi shook his head and answered honestly, ”I don’t know much about tea, so to me, most tea is good tea.”

Wang Hanshan laughed even more heartily. He set his cup down and looked at Xu Wuyi.

”The Dongjiang Battle Group told me you wanted to spar with me. Why is that?”

The question was extremely direct.

Xu Wuyi didn’t beat around the bush either. ”My Heart Image follows the path of fusing ’heaviness’ and ’burning.’ I’ve always felt that the ’heaviness’ aspect is still lacking something. I heard that your Mountain-Smashing Fist has reached the absolute pinnacle of ’heaviness,’ so I came to seek your guidance.”

”The pinnacle of heaviness?” Wang Hanshan shook his head. ”There is no such thing as an absolute pinnacle. There is no end to the path of Martial Arts. I can only say that I’ve walked the path of ’heaviness’ a few years longer than most.”

He paused for a moment before asking, ”Who is your master?”

”I’ve never formally acknowledged a master,” Xu Wuyi said. ”While studying at Star Martial University, I attended lectures from several seniors. Professor Han Mo guided me the most.”

Yet, even Professor Han Mo, who had taught him the most, was not his official master—this was the tradition at Star Martial.

”Star Martial...” Wang Hanshan pondered for a moment, nodded, and didn’t press the matter further.

He stood up and walked to the center of the clearing.

”Since you’re here, let’s not waste time. Show me what level your ’heaviness’ has reached.”

Xu Wuyi also stood up, unfastening the spear bag from his back.