"I'm back!"
Yan Chuang let out a long breath, a long-lost sense of familiarity and comfort welling up in his chest.
This trip to the Realm of Mountains and Seas had only lasted ten days—
Six days of travel.
Three days stuck in place.
One day on the run.
Exactly ten days.
Not too long, not too short.
And in terms of gains—
Almost nothing!
Sure, Yan Chuang hadn't gone in expecting to profit much—he just wanted to personally experience the Realm of Mountains and Seas, to observe its people, and maybe learn the local language and script.
Well, he certainly got a firsthand look.
But the language and writing? Less than 5% progress—basically nothing.
As for treasure—
Also, a big fat zero.
He had managed to get his hands on a rare iron bow, but in the end, to save his life, he ended up half-giving, half-lending it to Guangling Academy.
Just like Liu Bei borrowing Jingzhou—easy to borrow, hard to return!
So now, Yan Chuang returned with nothing.
Worse yet—
"My throwing knife!"
"My battle boots!"
"This trip cost me a unique throwing knife, one battle boot, and I had to enhance another boot. Total cost: 1,300 spirit points."
"A complete blood loss!"
Yan Chuang winced in pain.
Not only did he not profit—he took a loss!
This isn't how the 'chosen one' is supposed to be treated!
Yan Chuang's mouth twitched. A rough start—definitely not a good sign. Would every future expedition to the Realm of Mountains and Seas go like this?
That would suck!
Doing the math—
Even before entering the Realm, he had burned two red-tassel spears and enhanced one throwing knife during fights with Wen Wu and Yuan Shicai. That also cost 1,300 spirit points.
Altogether:
[Spirit -2600]
[Remaining Spirit: 6660]
He'd been saving up diligently and had almost 10,000 spirit points, but just two fights had cut that number nearly in half.
A total disaster.
"If every battle is this costly, my remaining spirit will only be enough to enhance ten level-10 unique items. That's maybe three to five more fights before I hit zero!"
Too risky!
No more battles for now!
Yan Chuang sighed, "Once a unique item hits level 10, it's impossible to enhance it to level 11. I've tried everything!"
What's missing?
A better foundation?
Or some other requirement?
He thought about trying to use Treasure Dividing Rock to enhance weapons that were already naturally unique—
Like Cheng Fengxiao's iron staff.
The longsword taken from Wen Wu.
Or the iron bow from Tu Lie.
All powerful unique weapons.
Maybe enhancing them would allow for an easier jump to level 11!
But—
Nope.
Yan Chuang resisted the temptation: "Level 1 [Treasure Dividing Rock] can only maintain two spiritual treasures at a time. I have to destroy one before adding a new one."
He already had the Golden Silkworm Armor, which had saved his life many times—from Du Hanfeng, Fan Defang, Wu Qi, Wen Wu, and just now in the Realm against Tu Lie and Tu Meng.
Until something better came along, the armor would remain his go-to.
So the second item should ideally be a weapon—a red-tassel spear or a throwing knife would do.
One for attack, one for defense—that's balance.
The iron staff, longsword, and iron bow were all options.
But the first two weren't his core style—enhancing them wouldn't bring out his full potential and would take up a precious enhancement slot.
As for the iron bow—
He couldn't even draw it before it was enhanced. If he enhanced it, that would make it even harder to use.
Useless.
Yan Chuang couldn't afford to waste precious spirit points just to run an experiment. Spirit points were important—but the real issue was wasting enhancement slots. Once enhanced, items couldn't easily be destroyed. Holding onto the wrong one for too long would actually weaken his overall power.
Case in point—
The level-11 battle saber.
The level-11 iron staff.
Were they useful?
Not necessarily.
It was the throwing knife that earned its keep, taking out Tu Lie. Then, after the fight, it was easily destroyed, and Yan Chuang switched to the battle boots, which were crucial in helping him escape from Tu Meng.
If the enhancement slots had been filled, could he have done that?
Absolutely not.
So—
"Even experiments must be done with caution."
"No reckless moves."
He dug out a new pair of wolf-hide boots from under the bed, putting on the right one and carrying the left: "I need these boots for speed—I'm in a hurry to get to Taikang Academy. But I'll definitely have to switch soon."
Switching meant blowing up the current pair.
Better to carry a spare.
Dressed and ready, Yan Chuang walked out. It was dusk, and the students of the martial hall had long since gone home. Now, only a few caretakers remained, along with Yu Jinpeng, Jin Yutang, Wei Quan, and Che Qi. These four had been guarding the hall in his and Cheng Fengxiao's absence.
Yan Chuang stepped into the front courtyard and saw Che Qi still practicing—not horse stance anymore, but Hu-style Piercing Kicks.
A family style passed down from Hu Baichuan, once one of the famed "Ten Tigers of Guangling." After Hu was crippled in a failed attempt to open a martial school, he vanished—only for Che Qi to inherit his legacy by chance.
"Eight roots!"
"Eight mothers!"
"Six methods, eighteen-word formula!"
"Thirty-two essential applications!"
Yan Chuang watched and nodded quietly. Clearly, Hu Baichuan had passed on the complete legacy without reservation. Whatever his reasons, it didn't matter.
What mattered was—
Che Qi had serious talent with footwork and leg techniques.
Hu-style Piercing Kicks combined hardness and softness, short and sharp movements, a compact upper body with agile footwork; hands were flowing, kicks were powerful, excellent for close combat.
Che Qi had already grasped the essence.
From early September to now—November 23—it had been almost three months since he arrived.
In that time—
He trained stance work for a full month. In early October, he got a chance to go to the advanced training hall and received personal instruction from Yan Chuang. His skill in Piercing Kicks surged.
Then—
He spent most of October back in stance training.
Until late October.
The martial arts tournament began.
From then on, when Yan Chuang trained Yu Jinpeng and others, he would also occasionally guide Che Qi. Aside from stance training, Che Qi finally began learning Cheng Family Boxing.
Of course—
He never stopped training the Piercing Kicks.
And now—
With a solid foundation in place, his progress in both Cheng Boxing and Hu Piercing Kicks was clear.
Stronger than Wei Quan.
Even with Jin Yutang.
Now—
"Ha!"
"Hyah!"
Che Qi exhaled with every strike, fully immersed in practice.
Ding, kick, hook, tap, snap, cross, stomp, grind—these were the "eight roots," the eight foundational leg techniques of Hu-style Piercing Kicks, rapid-fire like cannon blasts, switching as nimbly as hand techniques.
Push, lift, flow, spin, stick, pierce, coil, expand—the "eight mothers," eight foundational hand methods. Though focused on legs, the style emphasized "legs as the core, hands in concert."
From there, one studied the six methods and eighteen-word formula, then the thirty-two essential applications—this was mastery.
Yan Chuang watched quietly.
He didn't offer instruction this time.
He'd just survived a deadly escape from the Realm of Mountains and Seas—he needed time to settle his thoughts.
Not long after—
"Master?"
Che Qi noticed him and stopped immediately, bowing with fists clasped. "Master!"
Though not officially accepted as a disciple yet, Che Qi was a core trainee of the hall. Calling Yan Chuang "master" was entirely appropriate.
Yan Chuang nodded with a smile. "You've improved a lot. Keep it up."
"Yes, sir!"
Che Qi beamed with pride.
Since the tournament, Yan Chuang had become a legend—not just a promising young martial artist, but a full-blown Youth Grandmaster, famous across the entire Guangling Commandery and even half of Jianzhou.
A recognized master of Cheng Family Boxing, versed in dozens of styles, he had crushed the Guangling Academy and even killed one of the top ten elders, Wu Qi.
His martial arts prowess and personal power—
Top-tier in the whole region.
Only the top ten elders could compare.
Across Guangling, maybe twenty people could match him.
In all of Jianzhou—he was elite.
Youth Grandmaster.
Boxing master.
Guangling Shadowless Kick.
His fame was meteoric, and it reflected on his students—who admired and respected him more than ever.
Take Che Qi, for example—much more reserved now in Yan Chuang's presence.
Yan Chuang chuckled and asked, "Anything happen in the city or the hall while I was gone?"
Wen Wu—dead.
Yuan Shicai—also dead.
Yan Chuang had hidden their bodies well—it'd take time before anyone discovered what happened.
So for now, they'd just be considered missing.
But they were Inner Court Elders.
Two of Guangling Academy's top ten elders vanishing would certainly shake the city.
Yan Chuang wanted to hear how things had unfolded.
Che Qi snapped to attention. After Yan Chuang and Master Cheng left, things got very tense. "Right after you left, people from the Martial Patrol Division, Secret Martial Division, and Guangling Academy all showed up. The academy came to investigate the missing elders. The Secret Division wanted to recruit you. The Patrol Division tried to frame you for the murders."
That day—
The hall was chaos.
Both the academy and the patrol division had come in force.
Luckily—
"Elder Jiang Bianliu of the Secret Martial Division showed up. He's powerful and highly respected. He drove off the academy agents, personally investigated the Patrol Division's accusations, and in just three days exposed the truth—that Liao Huang, a patrol officer, had fabricated the charges. Elder Jiang stormed the division headquarters and crippled him with a single strike."
This event was kept quiet—never made public.
After all, the Secret Division, the Patrol Division, and figures like Jiang Bianliu rarely appeared in public. They operated in the shadows.
Che Qi only knew because he'd asked his father, Che Zheng, a captain in the Patrol Division.
"Martial Patrol. Secret Martial. Guangling Academy."
The three divisions visiting wasn't surprising to Yan Chuang.
The Patrol Division wanted his Red Tassel Spear.
The Secret Martial Division wanted to recruit him.
The Academy wanted answers about their missing elders.
All logical.
But that Jiang Bianliu had intervened on his behalf—and crippled a Patrol Division officer? That was… surreal.
Yan Chuang had heard of him—long ago, a famous boxing expert in Guangling. Said to have joined the new martial movement, though not part of the academy itself.
Yet many academy manuals bore his name as author or editor.
A founder of Guangling Academy.
One of its great contributors.
And now, this legend had personally stood up for him?
Yan Chuang was shocked.
Beside him—
Che Qi added, "Elder Jiang said he greatly values your talent. He left a message—when you return, you must visit the Secret Martial Division's Guangling branch. Or let him know—you two have important matters to discuss."
Secret Martial Division.
Jiang Bianliu.
"A senior, and now a benefactor."
"I have to visit him in person!"
Yan Chuang made up his mind: before heading to Taikang Academy, he would first go to the Secret Martial Division to meet Jiang Bianliu.