Imperial Cultivation

Chapter 8: Chapter 7: Taking Action

The news of the martial arts competition spread rapidly across the Martial Arts Training Ground, and everyone was eager to spar.

In Mingwu Hall, apart from the Little Sun Skill, they all practiced top martial arts that suited them, each possessing their own secret skills.

In terms of cultivation, Chu Zhitian and Chu Zhichuan were the strongest, followed by the Eighteenth Prince, Chu Mingxuan, and now possibly Chu Zhiyuan.

But all are in the Postnatal Realm, with no realm suppression; victory or defeat depends on performance on the spot, sometimes a single move can decide the outcome.

You might win this time, and I might win next time, everyone has a chance to win, and it’s rare for anyone to win consecutively.

Thus, no one is convinced, and all want to show their skills and win the title in one fell swoop.

Chu Zhiyuan held a book, shaking his head with a smile.

He already understood the temperaments of these princely heirs.

Though born into wealth and residing in the Imperial Palace, the biggest hub of fame and fortune in the world, it wasn’t as cutthroat as he imagined.

After all, they were young, hot-blooded, and in an age of competitiveness, a trait that couldn’t be suppressed.

Especially the Eighteenth Prince Chu Mingxuan, who loved excitement the most.

This time, he wanted to weigh his abilities, and everyone else was the same, wanting to see their own worth.

This will also determine others’ attitudes towards them in the future.

So, it’s best to convince them of one’s abilities.

...

After going through some of the highest-level and second-level secret manuals, Chu Zhiyuan stopped reading and instead focused on the martial arts notes.

To others, these martial arts notes seemed profound and even nonsensical.

Because of his Super Sense, his perception of the world was clear and profound, his observation of himself meticulous and detailed, and his perception of the martial arts notes was entirely different.

In just half a day, he felt as if he had opened a door and seen a new world.

He gained unprecedented profound enlightenment regarding martial arts, the world, and himself.

The depth of these insights was almost unreachable by a single person, an achievement relying on the accumulation of over ten thousand years of wisdom, beyond individual perception.

When understanding changes, the mental state changes, and thus the world changes.

The deeper the understanding of a move, the more adept and flexible one becomes in its application, performing it flawlessly and with great skill.

Training thus becomes more efficient, progressing rapidly.

In a short time, he gained different insights into the Little Sun Skill, Jade Lock Gold Barrier Skill, Near and Far Steps, and Great Snow Avalanche Sword Technique.

An involuntary sense of superiority and familiarity emerged.

”Knock, knock.” The sound of knocking came.

Chu Zhiyuan looked up.

The Eighteenth Prince, Chu Mingxuan, stood at the doorway, wrapped in a bright yellow combat uniform over his burly figure, smiling, ”Fourth Brother, the competition is about to start, hurry up!”

Chu Zhiyuan put back the martial arts notes of the previous Great Grandmaster Hu Jing.

Chu Mingxuan said, ”Fourth Brother, are you ready?”

Chu Zhiyuan approached him, ”Eighteenth Uncle, I’ll pass this time, I won’t embarrass myself just yet.”

”Come on! ... You can’t just bury your head in training, you need to spar often, there are many benefits, this is a rare opportunity!”

”... ” Chu Zhiyuan smiled but said nothing.

”Fourth Brother, don’t you want my treasure sword?” Chu Mingxuan laughed, ”It was obtained from a cave mansion, very unusual.”

”Eighteenth Uncle hasn’t figured out its origin?”

”I like sword techniques, I don’t have the patience to study that sword, but it’s definitely unusual, surely has some mystery.”

”The secret skills of Mingwu Hall are enough for us to practice.”

”Hey, you Fourth Brother, acting like a little old man, lack of curiosity, no vigor, come on, stop nagging!” Chu Mingxuan waved, ”Let’s go, let’s go.”

As they talked, everyone was staring.

”Old Eighteen!” Chu Qingfeng snorted.

Chu Mingxuan chuckled, ”Thirteenth Uncle, you can’t be too biased, we all want to see how strong Fourth Brother really is!”

”Yes, yes, let’s see.”

”Uncle can’t be biased.”

...

Everyone agreed one by one.

Chu Zhiyuan stepped up the stairs, clasped his hands with a smile, ”Since that’s the case, I’ll oblige.”

”That’s more like it!” Chu Mingxuan slapped Chu Zhiyuan on the shoulder, ”Let’s go!”

Chu Zhiyuan followed Chu Mingxuan down the stairs, standing among the crowd.

Including Chu Zhiyuan, there were thirteen people in Mingwu Hall.

Three princes and ten princely heirs.

Among the three princes, the Eighteenth Prince Chu Mingxuan was the oldest, the rest were younger, with average aptitude, nearly insignificant.

Among the ten princely heirs, besides Chu Zhiyuan, two stood out: Chu Zhitian and Chu Zhichuan, the rest were nearly insignificant.

This is the rule of the world: the strong are respected, the weak go unheard.

This competition was the best opportunity to show oneself, to enhance one’s presence, everyone was eager and excited.

Since there were few people, there weren’t many formalities, they paired off in twos, the winner advancing to the next round.

Round after round, until a single winner is decided.

With the addition of Chu Zhiyuan making it thirteen, Chu Mingxuan suggested that one person should be selected only to fight with the final winner for the championship.

”Old Nine has already placed first multiple times, so him,” Chu Mingxuan pointed to Chu Zhitian, then looked at Chu Zhichuan, ”sorry to Old Ten.”

Chu Zhitian’s handsome face was tense, but the corners of his mouth lifted slightly, unable to hide his pride.

Chu Zhichuan, tall and straight, with a handsome, cold demeanor, ”Eighteenth Uncle, how about I have a match with Brother Nine first, the loser sits out.”

Chu Zhitian’s bulky body stepped forward, glaring at Chu Zhichuan, ”Tenth Brother, let’s go!”

Chu Zhichuan placed his hand on his sword hilt.

Chu Zhitian squinted his tiger eyes.

The two were about to clash instantly.

Chu Qingfeng waved his hand, ”Alright, let’s have a round-robin, everyone battles everyone, the four with the most wins square off, for the final victory.”

”That’s better,” Chu Mingxuan clapped his hands, ”Listen to Thirteenth Uncle!”

He looked at Chu Zhiyuan, ”Fourth Brother, shall we have the first match?”

”Eighteenth Uncle, please enlighten me.”

Chu Zhiyuan withdrew his gaze from Chu Zhitian and Chu Zhichuan, seeing them still staring at each other intensely, filled with fighting spirit.

”I won’t go easy on you, be careful!”

Chu Mingxuan grinned as he walked to the center of the Martial Arts Training Ground.

”Eighteenth Uncle, catch the sword,” a young boy took a wooden sword from the weapon rack and tossed it to Chu Mingxuan.

Chu Mingxuan reached out, caught it, and spun it with flair, smiling as he looked at Chu Zhiyuan.

Chu Zhiyuan first went to the weapon rack and chose a wooden sword.

The wooden sword was heavy, with weight similar to a real sword, just by feel it seemed like a real sword, like a Qingfeng Sword wrapped in wood.

The crowd immediately made way, their eyes sparkling, fixed on the field without blinking.

All wanted to see Chu Zhiyuan’s true capabilities, whether he was as formidable as Chu Qingfeng said, or only possessed cultivation without martial skills.

They surmised his martial skills were ordinary.

For they heard Chu Zhiyuan say he needed to find a step technique, indicating his original step technique wasn’t top-tier.

Even if he found a top-tier step technique, there wouldn’t be enough time to master it, it surely wouldn’t be displayed.

They surmised he surely strived hard in a prisoner-like environment, focused intensely on the Little Sun Skill, reaching a postnatal perfection realm.

Chu Zhiyuan pinched a sword tactic with his left hand, lightly stroked the wooden sword’s guard, blade to the tip, feeling the texture, weight, and sensation of the wooden sword, smiled, ”Eighteenth Uncle, I practice Fast Sword, if I offend, please don’t mind.”

”Fourth Brother, quite a tone, cut the chatter, make your move!”

Chu Mingxuan flicked his long sword, eyes widened, his aura suddenly transformed.

From a smiling Maitreya Buddha, he instantly became an angry vajra, exuding a wild and fierce aura, as if one strike could split mountains and rivers.

Many secret manuals flashed through Chu Zhiyuan’s mind, he couldn’t discern which sword technique it was, so he extended his five senses.

The next moment, everyone’s every move around was clearly presented in his mind, especially Chu Mingxuan’s expressions and actions.

Clearly sensing Chu Mingxuan’s muscle changes, the legs beneath the combat uniform already taut, an elusive aura gathered at the Yongquan point, leg muscles made subtle changes, the hand holding the sword slightly turned, two tendons at the wrist, one protruding, the other taut inside.

Chu Zhiyuan intuitively realized: this was a right-side lunge to slash to the left.

”Hah! Watch the sword!”

Chu Mingxuan cried out, slashing forward, like a training sword streaking through the air.

”What a Demon Suppressing Saber!”

”Great sword technique!”

The crowd couldn’t help but cheer, amazed by the charismatic strike.

”Bang!”

With an abrupt muffled sound, the sword shadow vanished.

Chu Mingxuan’s forward momentum ceased instantly, his body tilted, staggering forward two steps, right hand propping the sword, left hand clutching his chest, coughing violently.

”Cough cough cough...”

His face flushed red like intoxication, seemingly caused by coughing but not entirely due to it.

Chu Zhiyuan held the sword upside down behind his elbow, embarrassingly clasping his hands, ”Eighteenth Uncle, excuse my offense, are you alright?”

The crowd was stunned, blinking forcefully.

Trying hard to recall what they had just seen, wanting to understand how Zhiyuan wielded his sword, yet precisely unable to see clearly.

All were captivated by the awe-inspiring momentum of the strike, overlooking Zhiyuan’s sword.

Zhiyuan’s right hand seemed to twitch.

The sword seemed to move slightly, almost like it thrust then retracted.

Too fast, unclear.

Chu Mingxuan’s coughing gradually ceased, his chubby face slowly returning to normal, exhaling a turbid breath, straightened up, glaring at Zhiyuan.

”Eighteenth Uncle...” Chu Zhiyuan embarrassedly clasped hands again.

Chu Mingxuan lowered his hand from his chest, slightly displeased, ”Fourth Brother, impressive!”

Zhiyuan smiled, ”Eighteenth Uncle was unprepared, I took advantage.”

”Nonsense, I wasn’t underestimating you!”

Chu Mingxuan touched above his Shan Zhong, still faintly aching, just a little off hitting it, otherwise, he’d have passed out, clearly showing mercy.

He turned and said, ”Old Nine, you’re up!”