In the front courtyard of Sun's Martial Arts Hall.
Yang Jing's Fist Momentum grew heavier and heavier. Sweat dripped down his jawline, striking the bluestone slabs and spreading into small, damp patches.
He remained completely oblivious, repeating the Techniques of the Mountain-Shattering Fist over and over again. With every strike, it seemed as if he were competing with himself.
By the wall, several resting disciples whispered among themselves, their eyes falling upon the intensely focused Yang Jing.
"Look at Senior Brother Yang. He really has enough drive. He's been here since before dawn and hasn't rested once," a newly joined teenage disciple murmured in admiration. "If it were me, I would have collapsed a long time ago."
Someone beside him scoffed. It was an older disciple who had been in the Martial Arts Hall for three months. He stood with his arms crossed, glancing sideways at Yang Jing. "What's the damn use of hard work? The Martial Dao depends entirely on natural talent and bone structure. He's been here for almost half a year and is still stuck at the beginner stage. He hasn't even attempted a breakthrough once! It just goes to show that his aptitude is bottom-of-the-barrel. Training any more is just a waste of effort."
"Exactly," another disciple chimed in, his tone brimming with disdain. "I heard from Senior Brother Zhang Kehan that this Yang Jing used to mess around with them, but now he's putting on this fake act. Does he really think he can successfully break through just by risking his life training? Hasn't he noticed that more than half of those with better talent than him have already left?
"I bet he won't last another half a month. He might not even get the chance to attempt a breakthrough before the pressure gets to him and he slinks away with his tail between his legs."
Yang Jing paid no mind to the chatter around him.
After all, he had lived through two lifetimes and experienced transmigration; naturally, he possessed immense mental fortitude.
Over the past few months, he had weathered all sorts of cynical and mocking remarks. They couldn't shake him in the slightest.
Yang Jing continued to practice his punches earnestly, his Fist Momentum as fierce and powerful as ever.
Hall Master Sun Yong emerged from the Inner Courtyard. He merely cast a distant glance at Yang Jing before shaking his head and walking away to guide Lin Yue's Cultivation.
In this Martial Arts Hall, innate talent was far more precious than sweat. Most people were long accustomed to measuring everything by results, and no one was willing to believe that someone with mediocre aptitude could create a miracle.
Only the newly joined teenager remained standing in place. As he watched Yang Jing's sweat-drenched back, he tightly clenched his own fists.
In the shadows by the courtyard wall, Zhou Lin nudged Zhang Kehan with her elbow and jutted her chin toward Yang Jing. "Look at him, still practicing like an idiot. He's spinning non-stop like a top, not even knowing when he's tired."
Zhang Kehan followed her gaze and saw Yang Jing smashing his fists into the wooden dummy one after another, the veins bulging on his forehead. He couldn't help but chuckle softly. "Isn't that the truth? It's already so late in the game, yet he's still clinging to that delusion. Does he really think mere effort can change his destiny? Instead of hurrying to pull some strings and call in favors to see if he can stay in the city, he's just wasting time. When the deadline arrives, he'll probably have to pack his bags and go back to Wazi Town to farm."
"We're having dinner with Lv Yang tonight. We can definitely bring this up—I guarantee it'll make his stomach hurt from laughing." Zhou Lin curled her lips, her tone tinged with mockery. "I never would've thought he'd turn into a martial arts fanatic. What a pity, though. He's obsessed with the wrong thing."
Lv Yang had been enrolled in the Martial Arts Hall for over half a year but had failed to step into the Mingjin Realm. He had left the Martial Arts Hall a month ago. The three of them still met up occasionally, though the frequency of their gatherings had dwindled. However, they had agreed to have dinner together tonight.
Zhang Kehan nodded with a low chuckle, his laughter suppressed but oozing with schadenfreude.
In truth, both he and Zhou Lin didn't have many days left at the Martial Arts Hall either. Watching Yang Jing "struggle" like this had become a rare source of entertainment.
In the open clearing on the other side, Qi Yun was sparring with Lin Yue.
Having already entered Anjin, her skills far surpassed Lin Yue's. However, she deliberately held back her strength, only gently redirecting his moves whenever his Technique revealed a flaw, all while offering gentle, spoken guidance. Her approachable demeanor was a stark contrast to her usual self.
Clearly, she was intentionally currying favor with this exceptionally talented junior brother.
"Master." Lin Yue was sharp-eyed; he spotted Hall Master Sun Yong walking over first and hurriedly withdrew his stance.
Qi Yun also turned around and bowed respectfully.
Sun Yong waved his hand dismissively. His gaze fell upon Lin Yue as he pointed out the routine the young man had just executed. "You exerted force too hastily with that 'Mountain-Shattering Stone-Splitting' move. The Qi of the Dantian wasn't settled. It needs to be like striking a bell—gather your strength first, then release..."
As he spoke, he raised his hand to demonstrate.
Lin Yue listened with rapt attention, nodding from time to time.
Qi Yun stood off to the side. Seeing that she wasn't needed, she quietly backed away.
As she passed through the courtyard, her gaze swept over Yang Jing. Seeing him still buried in bitter training, sweat pouring down his forehead like water, and hearing the dull, obsessive thuds of his fists smashing against the wooden dummy, she couldn't help but let out a scoff before turning her head away.
"Hopelessly stupid," she thought to herself. "He's about to be kicked out, yet he's still fighting for that so-called glimmer of hope. It's truly laughable and pitiful."
In her eyes, a wise person knew which way the wind blew. Attempting the impossible wasn't perseverance; it was sheer idiocy.
When the sun climbed to its peak, Yang Jing's movements gradually grew sluggish. His vitality roiled violently, and the beads of sweat rolling down his forehead became even denser.
Just as he was about to adjust his breathing, a gentle voice came from behind him.
"Junior Brother, drop your shoulders. Don't shrug. The Mountain-Shattering Fist emphasizes the unity of the waist and stance. Your punches look fierce, but all the power is leaking out through your shoulders."
Liu Maolin walked over and pressed lightly on his shoulder. A steadying force transmitted through the touch, and Yang Jing felt his tense neck and shoulders instantly loosen up significantly.
"Senior Brother Xie," Yang Jing panted, adjusting his posture as instructed. Sure enough, his fist routine felt much smoother.
"Don't panic. Take it slow, you can definitely do it!" Liu Maolin patted him on the back, genuine encouragement shining in his eyes. "Attempting a breakthrough doesn't just depend on innate talent; spirit and resolve are equally important. Your drive is stronger than most."
Yang Jing nodded, a warm feeling blossoming in his chest. Just as he was about to say something else, Liu Maolin pointed at his Stepping Technique. "Keep your steps steadier. Imagine you're taking root in the earth..."
Beneath a pagoda tree not far away, Qi Yun took all of this in, a mocking sneer curling the corners of her lips.
She had just come over from Lin Yue's side. In her hand, she held a piece of osmanthus cake she had just sent Zhang Kehan to the streets to buy. It was Lin Yue's favorite, so she had specifically had someone fetch it.
"What a pair of fools," Qi Yun sneered inwardly.
Liu Maolin held quite a bit of prestige within Sun's Martial Arts Hall, and his strength ranked near the top. However, his judgment was terribly poor, choosing to waste his efforts on a disciple like Yang Jing who was destined to be eliminated.
Guidance? Encouragement?
It was an absolute waste of time.
This Yang Jing had mediocre aptitude and was already pushing the very edge of his time limit. Even if an immortal descended to guide him, it wouldn't change a thing. What was investing effort in him if not a total loss?
She glanced at Lin Yue, who was being called over to speak with their master not far away, a flash of shrewdness passing through her eyes.
Compared to a piece of scrap iron like Yang Jing, Lin Yue was the real hidden gem. Moreover, now that he was highly regarded by the Hall Master, his future prospects were limitless.
If she built a good relationship with him now, when he eventually soared into the heavens, the benefits she would reap as one of his earliest friends would be far beyond anything a piece of trash like Yang Jing could ever offer.
Qi Yun smoothed her robes and, carrying the osmanthus cake, walked toward Lin Yue with a radiant smile.
As she passed by Yang Jing and Liu Maolin, she didn't even spare them a glance from the corner of her eye. Rather than wasting time on idiots, it was better to seize the moment to cultivate her own connections. That was the true way to establish a foothold in the world.
Yang Jing turned a deaf ear to any outside discussions, focusing entirely on practicing his techniques.
He had already trained the Mountain-Shattering Fist to the absolute limit of the beginner stage. If what the panel said was true—that his Cultivation of any Cultivation Technique or Martial Arts would face no bottlenecks—then his breakthrough into the Mingjin Realm should happen today.
Time ticked by, minute by minute.
Soon, an Hour passed.
As noon approached, some people were already preparing to leave for lunch.
Yang Jing continued to practice his techniques with his whole heart and soul.
Many disciples had grown accustomed to this sight. They lamented that Yang Jing's aptitude was just too poor; otherwise, with this kind of perseverance, he would actually have some hope of developing Power.
In the center of the courtyard, Yang Jing's Fist Momentum reached its peak. Suddenly, he felt a soft HUM echo within his body, as if an invisible membrane had abruptly shattered.