Martial Arts: Starting with Upgrading the Dilapidated Temple

As night deepened, the servants' quarters were filled with the smells of sweat and foot odor, and the snoring sounds rose and fell like a broken bellows.

Xu Hao lay on the hard, communal bed, staring at the blackened beams, wide awake.

Three days.

There are only three days left.

If you fail the assessment, you will be kicked out of this place that barely provides shelter from the wind and rain.

At this ferry crossing where human life is as worthless as grass, without this identity, one would either freeze or starve to death, or be captured and thrown into a mass grave.

"Show off a couple of moves..." Xu Hao muttered to himself, a bitter smile playing on his lips.

He can't even afford to eat, so where would he get the money to learn martial arts?

Xu Hao's heart skipped a beat when his fingertips touched the talisman in his pocket.

If the Listening Talisman can hear the rustling of the wind and grass, and the heartbeat and blood circulation, can it also detect the style of martial arts?

Martial arts practitioners emphasize breathing techniques, coordinating them with the exertion of force through the muscles and bones. Even if one cannot see the flow of internal energy, as long as one can hear the distinctive breathing rhythm and the subtle sounds of bones and muscles rubbing together, can one simply imitate it?

Once the thought arose, it grew wildly like weeds and could no longer be suppressed.

The next day, before dawn, the fog on the river was thick. Xu Hao, carrying a dry biscuit, quietly made his way to the reeds by the river.

This place is not far from the territory of the Canal Gang. On weekdays, the Canal Gang disciples would practice their morning exercises on the flat bluestone ground at the dock, and outsiders were not allowed to approach.

Xu Hao could only huddle in the reeds, using the morning mist to conceal his figure.

He dared not approach a master like Zhao Tiequan to eavesdrop; such a person had keen senses, and the slightest carelessness could lead to his death.

His gaze was fixed on a young gang member on the very edge.

The man looked like a novice, struggling alone against a wooden stake. Although his movements were clumsy, he was trying his best to follow some kind of rule in every move.

Xu Hao held his breath and pressed his fingers against the talisman on his chest.

The world suddenly became noisy. The sound of the river lapping against the shore, the flapping of wings of early-rising birds in the distance, the rustling of the reeds in the wind... countless sounds flooded into my ears.

He concentrated, filtering out all the noise, and focused intently on the young gang member.

Gradually, a clear and strange sound came to my ears.

"Hiss—hiss—whoosh..."

Three short breaths followed by one long breath: rapid inhalation, slow exhalation.

As their breathing rhythm changed, the sounds within the group became clearly audible.

The cracking sound of the ankle joints as the right foot pushed off the ground, the deep vibration of the taut thigh muscles, followed by the friction sound of the spine caused by the twisting of the waist and abdomen, and finally the power was transmitted to the arm, slamming a punch into the wooden stake.

boom!

The punch wasn't heavy, but to Xu Hao, it sounded like a meticulously dissected diagram.

It turns out that this seemingly simple punch actually originates from the soles of the feet, and after three vibrations in the waist and abdomen, the force is delivered to the fist.

Xu Hao listened intently, his body trembling slightly involuntarily in sync with the rhythm.

"Who's there!"

The young gang member suddenly stopped what he was doing, abruptly turned his head to look at the reeds, his eyes wary.

Xu Hao's heart clenched, and cold sweat instantly soaked his back.

Run? Too late!

His mind raced, and he hurriedly unzipped his pants and crawled out of the reeds, his face still dazed from sleep, muttering incoherently, "Pee...pee, there are so many mosquitoes in this godforsaken place..."

The group of people, seeing that he was a ragged, skinny handyman fastening his belt, immediately turned their wariness into disgust.

"Get lost! You filthy thing, don't dirty my place."

"Yes, yes, I'll get out of here right away." Xu Hao bowed obsequiously and scurried away backwards until he turned the corner of the river, at which point he dared to catch his breath.

so close!

But he didn't have time to worry about the lingering fear. While the rhythm was still imprinted in his mind, he took off running towards the Martial Temple.

He pushed open the temple door, looked around but saw no one. Not sure, he listened with a talisman and, after confirming that no one was there, picked up a broken piece of wood from the courtyard and used it to prop open the temple door.

Xu Hao rushed to the broken statue of the God of War, not even bothering to wipe his sweat, closed his eyes, and recalled every detail he had just heard.

Hiss—hiss—whoosh.

He adjusted his breathing, spread his feet apart, and, imitating the group, gripped the ground with his toes.

Push off with your right foot and twist your waist and abdomen.

Although there were no wooden stakes, he threw a powerful punch into the air.

The movements were clumsy and even awkward, causing a sharp pain in the back muscles.

Consciousness sinks into the picture in my mind.

Name: Xu Hao

【Blessed Land: Sunset Ferry Martial Temple LV2】

[Upgrade Requirements: Basic Martial Arts Skills Practice 1/300]

Moved!

The number that was originally "0" has become "1"!

Xu Hao clenched his fist, almost shouting out loud. The system acknowledged this "stolen" air!

This means that as long as he is willing to practice, this path is viable!

Three hundred times.

For a servant who was constantly hungry, this was an almost impossible task.

But Xu Hao had no way out.

He gritted his teeth and got into position again.

The second time, the third time, the tenth time...

At first it was okay; although the movements weren't perfect, I could barely keep up with the breathing rhythm. But after fifty repetitions, my body started to protest.

The weakness caused by long-term malnutrition spread throughout my body, my thigh muscles began to spasm uncontrollably, my lungs felt like they were on fire, and every breath I took had a bloody smell.

Sweat streamed down my forehead and into my eyes, stinging painfully.

Xu Hao stared intently at the statue of the God of War with the missing arm.

The clay sculpture's eyes were empty, as if mocking his overestimation of his abilities.

"If you want to survive... you have to train!"

Xu Hao let out a low growl, bit his tongue, and used the excruciating pain to force himself to stay awake.

One hundred times.

My legs were so numb that I had lost all feeling in them, and I was only moving by inertia.

Two hundred times.

My vision blurred, and I saw stars.

Images of bloated corpses soaked in the river, the landlord's helpless sigh, and the dark, chaotic burial ground flashed through my mind in turn.

can't stop.

Stopping means death.

The dilapidated temple was eerily quiet, with only Xu Hao's heavy breathing and the rustling sound of his feet scraping the ground.

The sun was high in the sky, and a beam of light shone through the dilapidated roof, swirling dust particles within it.

"Two hundred and ninety-eight...two hundred and ninety-nine..."

Xu Hao felt like his chest was about to explode, and his throat was filled with the taste of rust. With his last bit of strength, he roared and threw his final punch.

"three hundred!"

After that punch, it felt like his spine had been ripped out; he collapsed to the ground, gulping down the earthy-smelling air.

Just then, a "buzz" sound came from deep within my mind.

[Basic martial arts stance practice completed.]

[Blessed Land Upgrade Successfully!]

Current Level: LV3

A strange warm current arose out of nowhere, unlike the damp and cold river wind, but like the warm sun in winter, instantly surging into Xu Hao's limbs and bones.

The tearing muscle soreness quickly subsided under the comforting warmth, replaced by an unprecedented feeling of relaxation.