Chapter Seventeen: Joining the Sparring Team

The path of martial arts is one of constant progress; to stand still is to fall behind. Zhao Rui was not one of those prodigies born with extraordinary talent, nor did he possess any miraculous cultivation techniques that would allow his internal power to increase effortlessly without training. Therefore, even during holidays, he had to continue his practice as usual.

Martial arts know no bounds!

The night passed quietly.

Early the next morning, Zhao Rui rose as usual and hurried to the small grove to practice his fundamentals. He focused on regulating his breath, guiding his energy, aligning with the innate forces of nature, and cultivating the continuous cycle of his internal energy.

A breath of true qi escaped his lips, transforming into an invisible force that surged out over three meters. Though its power was minimal, the ability to project internal energy externally was already a remarkable feat. This was largely thanks to the “Cloud Hand Star Pluck” technique he practiced, which naturally incorporated the attribute of cloud energy, making the circulation of his internal qi far more adept.

After training for about an hour, Zhao Rui noticed several young people arriving. Like him, they were martial arts students—some as young as thirteen or fourteen, just starting middle school. Martial practice was no secret; many common foundational techniques had long been made public.

After a while, Zhao Rui finished his session and headed home. After a quick wash-up, he mounted his bike and rode toward the city center.

Lincheng, a second-tier city, was quite bustling. Towering buildings lined the streets, and shops were everywhere.

Zhao Rui stopped before a large building and glanced at the prominent sign at the entrance, then stepped inside.

Soon he reached the tenth-floor corridor, where several eye-catching advertisements hung above the doorways.

“Wende Martial Arts: Your inevitable path to the pinnacle.”

“Wende Martial Arts: A century of heritage, forging extraordinary excellence today.”

Pausing briefly, Zhao Rui continued inside.

At the reception desk, a girl of seventeen or eighteen stood up to greet him. “Sir, are you here to register?”

“I’m looking for the manager,” Zhao Rui said.

“The manager? Please wait a moment.”

The girl took out her phone and made a call. Shortly after, a burly man approached.

“Are you looking for me?” the man asked, sizing Zhao Rui up.

“Hello, I’m here to apply as a sparring partner,” Zhao Rui replied straightforwardly.

“A sparring partner?” The man was briefly taken aback, then scrutinized Zhao Rui more carefully.

“I just graduated from high school. I want to find a job for the summer to earn some money. I heard sparring partners get good pay,” Zhao Rui smiled.

“Oh!” The man nodded in understanding, then asked with a raised chin, “What’s your level? What’s your specialty?”

“Level four, specializing in palm techniques.”

“Palm techniques, huh?” The man hesitated before pulling out his phone and dialing another number.

Zhao Rui remained patient, waiting quietly. After a moment, the man looked back, nodded, and said, “You’re over eighteen, right? We require a contract for sparring partners.”

“Yes, I’m of age. I know that!” Zhao Rui replied promptly. Martial arts have their risks, and sparring partners face risks too. Occasionally, accidents happen where sparring partners get seriously injured or worse.

“Alright, follow me. We’re actually short on palm technique sparring partners lately,” the man said as he led the way.

“Our shop has ten branches in total. This one is the Huaiyin Road branch. We currently have ten sparring partners, and they usually get seven or eight gigs a day. Pricing depends on the number of people and the time. Three hundred per hour! If you go over time, we charge by the minute…”

Listening to the man’s explanation, Zhao Rui couldn’t help but twitch at the comparison—it sounded like a massage parlor.

He’d known about the sparring partner job and some of the duties before but had no idea about the fee structure.

“No problem!” he said. A technician is a technician. If sparring partners are just there to accompany, then so be it!

If waiting tables and dancing were service jobs, why shouldn’t sparring partners be too?

No wonder talented martial artists avoid becoming sparring partners; it’s a servant’s job, not something glamorous!

Inside the office, the burly man introduced himself as Liu Han, the manager of this branch. He said Zhao Rui could contact him about anything.

After giving a brief rundown of the shop, Liu Han began to inquire in detail about Zhao Rui’s background.

Following their conversation, Liu Han waived the trial process and directly signed a sparring partner agreement with Zhao Rui.

The contract mainly covered safety provisions and measures, such as insurance and having professional coaches to provide on-site protection.

Once the agreement was signed, Liu Han called over the head coach, Hou Longfei, and introduced Zhao Rui to him.

Hou Longfei was used to seeing summer workers like this. After hearing the manager’s explanation, he led Zhao Rui to the martial arts arena.

The arena was located deep inside the building. The space was wide and open, dominated by a large main training area and several smaller competition rings.

Protective barriers surrounded the entire space.

In the corners were various training apparatuses and an array of unsharpened weapons.

“Perfect timing. Several students are coming to train today. You’ll take one of the assignments. His strength is weak—only level three—so just control your power accordingly,” Hou Longfei said as he assigned Zhao Rui a locker and gave him a tour of the arena and changing rooms before setting him up with his first task.

“Got it, coach!” Zhao Rui nodded and then took a seat in the resting area beside the arena, watching the training unfold.

At least fifty people were practicing martial arts inside, mostly teenagers following their coaches, drilling each move meticulously.

Some were peers or older youths training on their own.

Near Zhao Rui sat several other young men resting as well, ranging from their early twenties to over thirty. They were taciturn, as if Zhao Rui’s presence was of no concern to them.

Zhao Rui didn’t bother engaging them either. He sat up straight, began meditating lightly, and regulated his internal qi.

After about half an hour, Hou Longfei came over, called Zhao Rui up, and led him into the arena.

“This is Zhao Rui, our new sparring partner, specializing in palm techniques. Shao Jie, today he’ll be your sparring partner. You should try out a new opponent’s style,” he introduced.

“Style…” Zhao Rui inwardly wanted to slap him. “I’m a palm technique specialist, not some hand stylist!”

Ah, well, for the money and to improve his skills, he swallowed his pride.

They changed into martial arts uniforms, donned protective gear, and stepped onto the fighting platform.

The platform resembled a fighting arena from his previous life but with much higher safety standards.

Not only were the surrounding pillars reinforced, but even the glass walls were made of high-strength, explosion-proof material—the entire setup was incredibly expensive.

“Taiyi Splitting Sword!” the student called out.

Though still a youth, his movements were full of momentum. At his age, he was already a level three martial artist, clearly gifted.

“Taihang Thirteen Palms!” Zhao Rui announced his move beforehand—a courtesy before sparring, since it was not a life-or-death battle.

The purpose of sparring was to help the trainee improve their competitive skills.

As for the opponent using a sword—no problem. Weapons and unarmed combat were inseparable.

Zhao Rui himself often used a spear. As the saying went, “An inch longer is an inch stronger.”

But he refrained here. The arena was too small, and unarmed combat against blades was a skill every martial artist needed to hone.