Chaotic Times and Disasters: I Hunt Down Martial Arts Masters and Become a God

Fu Qing ignored him and walked past him directly.

Pei Qing reached out from behind and patted Fu Qing on the shoulder. "I'm talking to you..."

Fu Qing didn't even turn his head. He grabbed Pei Qing's hand that was slapping him with his own, tightened his fingers, and pressed down.

Pei Qing's face turned from white to red, then from red to purple. He tried his best to pull his hand back, but Fu Qing's hand remained unmoved.

The young masters from the aristocratic families behind Pei Qing were all dumbfounded—although Pei Qing wasn't the top student in the elite class, he was still a genuine fourth-level cultivator at the Meridian Opening stage, and yet he was being held like a chicken.

Fu Qing released his grip. "Senior brother, you don't need to use so much force when you greet someone next time."

Pei Qing looked down at the five finger marks on the back of his hand, gritted his teeth and looked up, but Fu Qing had already walked away.

The disciples who were watching the commotion all gaped open.

"Just who is this person?"

"Haven't you heard? He's from Ironblood City. He's killed countless centurions at the Meridian Opening Realm on the grasslands! He's incredibly brave!"

"No way, he looks about our age. Could he be at the Qi Refining Realm?"

...

The first lesson at the martial arts academy was taught by the veteran general Fan Zheng.

Fan Zheng is over 260 years old and has taught at the martial arts academy for 30 years, producing several marshals under his tutelage.

He didn't waste any time in class; he started with physical fitness tests right away: weighted running, strength test, and obstacle course.

The elite class disciples lined up in front of the strength-testing monument. Fan Zheng scored them one by one. When he got to Fu Qing, he asked Fu Qing to go to the side and carry the cold iron pillar around.

The Cold Iron Pillar is used by the Martial Academy to test extreme strength. It is made entirely of cold iron and weighs tens of thousands of kilograms. Only a handful of students in the elite class can lift it and walk a few steps.

Fu Qing walked to the cold iron pillar, grabbed the handle in the middle of the pillar with one hand, lifted it up and flipped it over to carry it on his shoulder, and walked around the training ground.

When he returned, he was neither red-faced nor out of breath. He gently placed the iron pillar back in its original position, and the ground creaked as it was placed on it.

The training ground was quiet for several breaths—several disciples who were doing their morning exercises stopped in their tracks, and all the disciples queuing in front of the strength testing monument turned to look at Fu Qing; some even forgot to test their strength on the monument.

"Is this even human?"

"Are all the border troops...this powerful?!"

Fan Zheng squinted and wrote a few words on the roster. That afternoon, Fu Qing's file was transferred to the elite class.

In the afternoon, Fu Qing went to the Martial Arts Academy Library to consult medical classics.

The library of the Martial Academy was larger than any library he had ever seen, with the medicine section taking up an entire floor.

He searched for two hours and finally found a rare pharmacopoeia in a corner. The footnote mentioned the Feng family—the founding king of Jing Kingdom, a non-royal prince, whose fief was in the northern border, and who commanded the most elite Northern Army of Jing Kingdom.

Feng Changyang was poisoned by a spy from the Li Kingdom, and died from an attack of his internal organs. The Feng clan gradually died out from then on, the Northern Army was disbanded and incorporated into other legions, and the Feng clan's fiefdom in the northern border was also taken back.

Fu Qing closed the book, her brows furrowing slightly.

"It seems there's something fishy about this. Now we'll have to see what the old emperor's attitude is."

Meanwhile, upon learning that Fu Qing had been transferred to the elite class, Pei Qing clenched his fists, his face grim.

"That stinking country bumpkin dares to try and climb over us? Dream on!"

...

The afternoon session was a sparring match, where Fan Zheng arranged for Fu Qing to face off against a senior student from the elite class who was at the fifth level of the Meridian Opening stage.

This man, named Han Duo, is Pei Qing's cousin. He wields a nine-section steel whip, and his whip techniques are cunning and ruthless, placing him among the top ten in the elite class.

Hearing that his cousin was going to fight Fu Qing, Pei Qing was both surprised and delighted. He tugged at Han Duo's sleeve, "Brother, teach this country bumpkin a lesson for me!"

Han Duo slapped his hand away and sneered, "Don't worry, I'll let him know that a commoner is just a commoner."

As soon as Han Duo stepped onto the stage, he launched a preemptive attack, whipping his steel whip through the air with a few flourishes, the tip of which aimed straight for Fu Qing's face. He intended to force Fu Qing off the stage within three moves and redeem his cousin's honor.

Fu Qing squinted as the steel whip came crashing down. He dodged to the side, the whip grazing his clothes. The second whip swept across his feet, which he lightly jumped to avoid. The third whip came crashing down from above his head. He moved half a step to the left, and the steel whip slammed onto the arena.

After the three moves were completed, when the steel whip came down again for the fourth move, Fu Qing slashed at the whip with his sword, the blade getting caught on the whip and pulling hard.

Han Duo was dragged over, whip and all, and stumbled forward several steps.

Fu Qing kicked him in the chest, sending Han Duo flying off the stage and crashing to the ground, sliding several feet before coming to a stop.

The entire room fell silent for a moment. Pei Qing dropped the folding fan in his hand with a clatter and rushed over to help Han Duo up. "Brother, brother, are you alright?!"

Fu Qing glanced expressionlessly across the audience and spoke coldly.

"Forgive my bluntness, but most of you are more powerful than me. However, in a real fight, you might not be my match. It's just that you lack killing intent, are ridiculously weak, and don't know how to fight. In a life-or-death battle, you'll likely only face death..."

After saying that, he turned and walked off the stage.

It wasn't that Fu Qing was pretending; he was telling the truth. These pampered scions of noble families might be able to advance their cultivation very quickly, after all, their families had ample resources to support them.

But if you really encounter a veteran who has experienced death and war, you'd be lucky to be able to use even 30% of your skills.

The audience looked bewildered, not understanding what he was talking about. Didn't victory in a duel depend on having higher cultivation level?

Han Duo struggled to his feet, shoved Pei Qing aside, and watched Fu Qing's retreating figure.

"You lowly wretch! You speak so eloquently, yet you're barely twenty years old. How much of your so-called murderous aura do you possess?"

Fu Qing paused slightly, then suddenly turned around to look at Han Duo.

Han Duo was startled when he met Fu Qing's gaze. His heart turned cold, and cold sweat poured down his forehead. In his eyes, Fu Qing's eyes were lifeless, filled only with death.

Fu Qing was surrounded by countless corpses, like a scene from hell. The ordinary knife in his hand was glowing green, ready to reap lives at any moment.

Han Duo shuddered, unconsciously took a step back, and swallowed hard.

Fu Qing withdrew his imposing aura and turned to leave.

Fan Zheng raised an eyebrow slightly, a smile playing on his lips, and made a note on the roster: "Fu Qing wins."

...

In the highest pavilion of the martial arts academy, a girl with her hair in a bun was sitting in the main seat, gnawing on a pig's trotter. Suddenly, her eyes lit up, and she grinned.

"That's right. These guys are used to being lazy and think they're superior, that their cultivation is everything. Little do they know that in front of a true master, they can't even draw their swords. They'd be lucky if they didn't pee their pants in fear."

...

He entered the palace to pay his respects three days later.

Fu Qing changed into the formal official robe issued by the military, made of dark blue satin, with a soaring iron eagle embroidered on the chest and a copper seal of deputy commander hanging at his waist.

The eunuch led him through layers of palace gates, along a long palace road, up the white marble steps of the main hall of Taiji Hall, and into a side hall.

There was only one person in the side hall.

Ling Yushu sat behind the imperial desk. The Jingguo Emperor, who was over three hundred years old, looked only in his early fifties. He had a thin face, wore a scholar's robe, and held a scroll in his hand.

He had no air of royalty about him; instead, he resembled a learned scholar with a strong scholarly air.

"Commander Fu has arrived, please have a seat..."

Ling Yushu pointed to the chair opposite the imperial desk, looking very approachable. Fu Qing was taken aback for a moment, then plopped down on it.

The emperor inquired about the battle of Ironblood City—how Blackstone Ridge was fought, how the commander of Wolf Fang Village was killed, and how the eight hundred cavalrymen on the grassland captured the uncle alive.

Fu Qing answered each question, and Ling Yushu listened attentively, nodding occasionally and even smiling from time to time.

He then asked about Fu Qing's two wives and two children, how Song Yawei was recovering, and whether Song Nini's daughter could really drink several bowls of pork rib soup a day.

Fu Qing answered these casual questions with a strange expression, feeling somewhat puzzled. "This person doesn't seem like an emperor; he seems more like someone checking household registrations."

But at that moment, Ling Yushu placed the scroll on the table and changed the subject.

"Tian Jingming mentioned in the military report that you have an old injury. The imperial physicians in the palace are skilled in all kinds of difficult and complicated diseases. I have them take a look at you."

"I dare not trouble Your Majesty."

Fu Qing paused, "The wounds on my body are not old injuries, but a kind of bloodline poison called..."

He slightly raised his head to observe the emperor's expression.

"The Temple of the Five Internal Organs!"

Ling Yushu turned to look at him, tapped the imperial desk twice with her hand, and said, "Go on."

Fu Qing recounted Su Wen's diagnosis. After listening, Ling Yushu remained silent for a long time, then showed a concerned expression.

"I know Suwen, that girl. She's the most talented among the younger generation in the Medicine Palace. What she says is true. The remains of the Medicine Immortal's heart are indeed in the palace. This is a national treasure, passed down from previous emperors."

"I really want to help you, but even if I like you, there's no reason for me to bestow treasures directly upon you. Otherwise, the old ministers in the court will say that I'm biased and unfair to others."

He paused for a moment, then said, "How about this, you should focus on your training at the Martial Academy. Once you've accomplished a few more great feats, I'll have a reason to bestow my remains upon you. I mean what I say."

Fu Qing stood up, cupped his hands, and said, "Your Majesty, I thank you for your great kindness."

"No need for such formalities."

Ling Yushu waved his hand and smiled.

"You are the only surviving member of the Feng clan. Your ancestors fought alongside Emperor Gaozu to conquer the world, but the treacherous Li Guo used this evil poison to cripple my arm in the struggle for peace..."

"I originally thought the lineage of the Prince of Zhenbei was extinct, but unexpectedly, you still exist. It is truly a blessing from heaven. Therefore, no matter what, I am determined to preserve the last bloodline of the Feng family! To uphold the bond between Emperor Gaozu and the Prince of Zhenbei!"

Hearing these heartfelt words, Fu Qing was also moved. He bowed again and said, "Your Majesty, I could never repay your kindness, even with my life!"

"That's too harsh. No need for formalities... Go now, the Martial Arts Academy Competition is about to begin. Come back and see me with a good ranking."

Fu Qing left the side hall, and the eunuch led him back the way he came.

It was already dark when I stepped out of the palace gate, and the lanterns on the palace walls swayed gently in the night breeze.

Fu Qing glanced back at the Taiji Hall, feeling somewhat lost.

Between the Suwen (a classic Chinese medical text) and the emperor, who should he believe?

Suwen doesn't seem to lie, and the emperor is very kind to him. Could it be that the Medicine Palace's plan was wrong?