Martial Arts Awakening, Bloodfire Fist Master

"Brother Dali?"

The name sounds a bit like something out of a martial arts novel. I suspect it was made up by Qingshan—how could he possibly know anyone in the martial arts world?—but what if it is true...?

Clinging to a sliver of hope, I suddenly felt hungry, so I grabbed a steamed bun from the side and started eating it.

Zhang Qingshan, or rather, Mighty Fist Brother, kept training until even his exceptionally talented self felt the need for extra nutrition, at which point he finally stopped.

I scraped up the last of the cornmeal, millet, and sorghum in the house and cooked a pot of it. Then I gathered up the last of the copper coins in the house, plus the little bit that the neighbor gave me when they visited yesterday, totaling about thirty coins.

He didn't care about next month's rent and went straight to the street to buy three catties of dried soybeans. One catty of soybeans cost ten coins, leaving him with two or three copper coins as his last possessions.

Soaking soybeans and slowly simmering them until half-cooked is a rare source of protein that Zhang Qingshan can obtain for the time being.

Currently, our resources do not allow for the production of ginseng and other potent medicinal herbs.

[The Mighty Fist swallowed hard. It felt it could still train, but its innate Six Forms of Might were becoming increasingly slower. It didn't think it was getting weaker; rather, it needed to think. Martial arts weren't just about rote practice. Rote practice could only get you to the beginner level. To achieve mastery and advance in martial arts, you needed to understand the meaning behind the fist techniques.]

[While slowly circulating the six forms of the Powerful Fist, feel the transitions and connections between the forms, and contemplate the meaning of power within...]

In the middle of it all, Zhang Qingshan didn't forget to add firewood to the pot that was cooking.

[As Dali Quan pondered, a flash of inspiration seemed to appear.]

[During the moment of inspiration, a flash of insight crossed my mind and then...]

[As he threw the punch, Dali Quan seemed to sense something, but when he pulled his fist back, he felt nothing. He decided to continue practicing.]

[Mighty Fist smelled the aroma of beans and felt it should eat something.]

After cooking one and a half pounds of dried soybeans, they filled Zhang Qingshan's small pot to the brim.

Normally, it would be enough for at least two meals, but now, my appetite has increased a lot, and I start wolfing down my food as soon as it cools down a little.

The wind whipped up the remaining clouds, leaving Xie's daughter, Chunyu, dumbfounded.

When she saw Zhang Qingshan turn to look at her, she screamed in fright and ran back to her room as if she were afraid of being eaten.

He chuckled, recalling his little sister back in Zhangjia Village. She was just as timid and shy. Although she was a transmigrator, she was just an orphan in her previous life. She had just graduated from university and hadn't even had a proper chance to work as a servant before she stumbled upon this world.

Although his family was poor, the blood ties he had shared with his family through thick and thin over the past sixteen years still resonated deeply with him.

Feeling the strange emotions he had just experienced, Dali Quan felt a sense of guilt. He realized he had once again wasted time on meaningless sighs. A martial artist's iron stomach doesn't need training; a martial artist's will is to break through limits. Why waste time on melancholy?

[The powerful puncher felt he couldn't quite grasp the flashes of inspiration he'd had with the slow punches earlier, so now he'd unleash a frenzy of training and reflection.]

He lunged forward, charging in with a powerful straight punch... His frenzied figure terrified Xiao Chunyu, the widow Xie's daughter, who could only peek through the crack in the window.

[I'm starting to get the hang of the big punch....]

[I have gained a deeper understanding of the first stance's power-gathering posture in the Mighty Fist...]

[A certain spiritual light flickered within the powerful punch again.]

[The Mighty Fist versus the Second Powerful Style... The Mighty Fist versus the Third Violent Style: A flash of inspiration revealed that the feet and arms achieved a certain frequency...]

Even in the late afternoon or early evening, Dali Quan kept having flashes of inspiration.

The neighbors slowly returned, while Dali Quan continued to train and ponder.

If he had the opportunity, Zhang Qingshan would like to find a master for Dali Quan.

[Mighty Fist sneered. How ridiculous that he'd even considered finding a master! He was born with the Mighty Fist physique; learning from himself and nature was enough. Who dared claim to teach him? He felt a strange sensation again. The combination of the stepping stance and the violent stance perfectly integrated the power of his entire body. If combined with the Six Forms…]

[Daliquan was overjoyed; it could feel it, a breakthrough wasn't far off, it would keep training.]

Several neighbors gathered together, worried that Zhang Ge'er would overtrain himself.

Everywhere you go, people say that the poor study literature and the rich practice martial arts, but poor people who practice martial arts only end up vomiting blood.

Especially since Chunyu kept saying she'd been acting crazy all day, I was even more worried.

As night fell, Zhang Qingshan practiced while also cooking soybeans.

Night fell.

Just as Mighty Fist was about to stop and eat, a sudden burst of intense inspiration erupted, and his mastery of his six forms, deep within his instincts, suddenly improved, bringing Mighty Fist's growth to the minor completion stage.

Although he hadn't reached the second level of martial arts, he still felt his strength had increased by at least 100 jin, and his body was in better shape.

A force was flowing within his body.

At the same time, with just a thought, Zhang Qingshan also had a kind of instinctive understanding of the six moves of the Mighty Fist.

It seems that these gains came from his countless years of hard work and cultivation, and were deeply integrated into his flesh and bones.

If your strength was 200 jin when you entered the first level of martial arts, it has increased by about half now.

Don't underestimate the effect of gaining only 100 pounds; it doubles your strength.

With his current strength, even with just one arm, he can barely lift that thin laborer when he exerts force.

With this comparison, Zhang Qingshan had a better understanding of the situation. Master Ma might be slightly stronger than him now, but not by much, and definitely hadn't reached the second-level martial artist stage.

Hunger returned, but fortunately, we were prepared.

He grabbed the pot and went inside, inhaling the strong wind.

The moment I put the pot down, before I even had a chance to wash it, my powerful punch, which I'm so eager to improve, started to feel good again.

[The image of Dali Quan inexplicably reminded me of Master Ma, and I suddenly felt very insecure. My own minor achievements were nothing to boast about, and I couldn't let my guard down.]

Afraid of startling others, Zhang Qingshan interrupted his self-motivational speech with a powerful punch, got up and closed the door first.

[Within a confined space, though small, the power punch feels more controlled, and practicing it might bring different insights.]

[Practicing Mighty Fist...]

[Further understanding of the Six Powerful Techniques is underway...]

[Dancing with great strength, he looked at the humble dwelling and suddenly had a realization. The so-called great strength meant breaking free from the constraints of the humble dwelling. Dancing with great strength felt that his boxing skills had improved once again.]

[A sudden realization dawned on me regarding the straight punch style... The powerful punch, stimulating power, was practiced in a striking motion, and a feeling arose within me...]

[The power of the Fist of Might is surging forth... the power of the Fist of Might is feeling again...]

Although Dali Quan was exhausted, the fatigue and soreness deepened his understanding of power... He continued to comprehend... Inspiration was flowing...

[Mighty Fist felt it should rest. It felt guilty for its laziness; it wasn't even two in the morning, and it had actually...continued to cultivate... Mighty Fist felt its body couldn't take it anymore, and a sigh rose in its heart. It was clearly in the midst of a burst of inspiration...it could only lie in bed and rest!]

After sleeping for three or four hours, Zhang Qingshan opened his eyes again.

He did want to sleep a bit more, but seeing how diligent Dali Quan was, he was too embarrassed to say he wanted to sleep.

Although his body was still tired, Dali Quan felt that this was a process of tempering his will and strengthening his body. The ancients endured hardship and humiliation; what was this compared to that? He would train on.

Meanwhile, while taking a break to cook the last of the dried soybeans, Zhang Qingshan was considering what to do for the next meal when Old Liu finally got out of bed and brought him some mixed grains. "Brother Zhang, although I don't know why you're practicing so hard, I feel that you're practicing well and you've got some skills. Here, have some to tide you over."

I wanted to ask Brother Dali if it was true, but I opened my mouth and didn't say anything. I turned around and staggered away, as if I was only holding on to this little bit of hope.

Around noon, Zhang Qingshan had just eaten something when he saw a figure appear at the gate of the courtyard, peering inside. After seeing Zhang Qingshan, the figure disappeared again.

Upon reflection, this person seemed to have appeared occasionally by Master Ma's side; he must have been one of his underlings.

This is because she's afraid she and Lao Liu will run away together.

A sense of urgency rose within Dali Quan, waves of crisis washed over him, his mind was more focused than ever before, his training more earnest than ever, and inspiration, spurred by a life-or-death situation, kept bursting forth...

[The Mighty Fist is improving... The Mighty Fist is gaining insights... The Mighty Fist is adjusting...]

By evening, [During its rapid-fire cultivation and life-or-death experience, Mighty Fist finally underwent another qualitative change, reaching its peak and advancing to the second level of martial artist strength enhancement, with a strength of 500 jin. Only then did Mighty Fist breathe a sigh of relief; it desperately needed to eat to replenish its energy!]