Chapter 52 What Flash Drive?

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In the quiet chamber, Zhao Rui continued to practice the Formed Fist technique, circulating his true energy and sensing the presence of the hidden meridians. With each repetition, the clarity of the hidden meridians became increasingly distinct. Though the awareness remained faint and vague, it was enough for Zhao Rui to confirm their real existence.

Unfortunately, this cultivation method had its limits; no matter how much he circulated his energy, he could only enhance his sensitivity but could not precisely locate the hidden meridians in his body.

After four hours, Zhao Rui exhaled deeply and slowly opened his eyes.

The technique was mastered.

Once he learned a martial art’s movements, even without the accompanying energy formulas, he could easily execute them. There would be no issues of meridian reversal or moves failing to connect.

However, these moves were only superficial, lacking real power—barely more than mere posturing.

As for the hidden meridians, they remained like the moon’s reflection on water, or flowers in the mist—unclear and concealed deep within the body.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself. I haven’t even fully understood the twelve regular meridians or the eight extraordinary vessels. Why think so far ahead?” Zhao Rui muttered.

He pushed open the chamber door, rested briefly to relax, then began studying the Five Ancestor Fist.

This set of boxing was fierce and swift, with steady footing and fierce momentum. It was said to have been created over a century ago by a master who fused five boxing styles, including the Taizu Fist and the Arhat Fist.

It also had ties to the long-lost Southern Shaolin Temple.

A popular legend even claimed the style was created by the fifth patriarch of Zen Buddhism.

A style with such stories and heritage was certainly extraordinary.

Zhao Rui studied carefully, pondering and experimenting with each move.

“If this move extended three inches further back, would the force be greater? Could that compensate for the lack of internal strength? But without the support of the Foot Taiyang Meridian, the subsequent moves can’t be properly executed…”

While practicing the Five Ancestor Fist, Zhao Rui also tried to use the faint presence of his hidden meridians to improve the hollow internal power produced by the Formed Fist technique.

When does one most easily lose track of time?

When utterly absorbed—such as in love, leaning against the one you adore, or when deep in thought, struggling over a difficult math problem during an exam.

Zhao Rui felt that way now, engrossed in learning and unraveling the moves, completely unaware of time passing.

It seemed that exploring the hidden meridians could ease physical fatigue, allowing one to remain immersed in training for long periods without noticing.

Like yesterday, when Zhao Rui left the chamber, the courtyard was already deserted.

Truly, cultivation knows no passage of time!

“I’ve barely scraped through, managed to learn about seventy to eighty percent. A few moves even allow a decent channeling of the Hand Taiyin Lung Meridian’s internal energy,” he muttered.

The gains were good, but time had flown by too quickly.

Zhao Rui resolved to set an alarm on his phone next time he studied the hidden meridians.

After tidying up, he left, walking toward the outskirts of the Cicada Temple.

Outside, the moon was cold and the wind clear. Passing the dense forest before the Cicada Courtyard, Zhao Rui hesitated briefly, shook his head, and sighed.

Such a shame to waste the image of a great master…

“Kid, you got a problem with that?”

Just as he lifted his foot to continue, a familiar voice from last night drifted from behind.

Zhao Rui suppressed the urge to turn and curse, choosing to ignore it, quickening his pace toward the academy’s edge.

“Kid!”

He blocked out the call, speeding up.

“Hey!”

Suddenly, a sharp pain struck the Huantiao acupoint, and Zhao Rui stumbled, falling to the ground.

“Senior, I know nothing!” he blurted honestly.

“You little brat, why run when you see me? I gave you the wrong flash drive last night.”

“Senior, what flash drive? Your disciple is dull-witted.”

“Bah!”

The figure approached slowly, emerging from the night—a short old man with a baby-like face, rosy cheeks, but hair streaked with white.

He bore a striking resemblance to Ding Chunqiu from the TV adaptation of Demi-Gods and Semi-Devils, though far more handsome than Huang Rihua’s portrayal.

“Hypocrite! Do you think I care about that?” The old man sneered coldly, narrowing his eyes at Zhao Rui.

After a moment’s thought, Zhao Rui spoke up, “Senior, I don’t care about lucky breaks or coincidences. Let’s just pretend we never met.”

“My heart is set on martial arts. For Old Ge’s sake, let’s part here.”

“Ah! Bringing out Ge Changsheng’s name now,” the old man chuckled, then waved his hand in the void. Instantly, Zhao Rui’s legs regained mobility.

“Thank you, senior. It’s already a great fortune to have glimpsed your divine might. I have early classes tomorrow, so I won’t disturb your rest.”

Zhao Rui straightened his clothes and strode off.

The old man paused, then called out with a smile, “Kid, when you realize what you missed, you’ll regret it.”

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“I won’t regret it,” Zhao Rui called back loudly, quickening his pace until he was beyond the martial arts academy’s borders.

Opportunities and dangers always coexist. Who knew what this old fellow’s background was?

With his system panel, wasn’t his own fortune just as good?

He had watched the “footage” the other had provided last night, yet it was better to pretend ignorance.

The night passed without incident.

Early the next morning, Zhao Rui attended a professional class before hastily heading to the martial arts team.

At that moment, teachers and students gathered in the training arena of the Cicada Courtyard, undergoing special drills before a friendly competition.

The training mainly targeted the official team members.

“Zhao Rui, go find Gongye Lingchen and follow his instructions,” Wang Zhanshan ordered upon seeing Zhao Rui arrive, glancing at the remaining participants.

Surprised by the command, Zhao Rui’s gaze swept over Gongye Lingchen, who was smiling faintly at him.

Zhao Rui responded and ran over politely.

“Senior Brother, hello!” he greeted.

Gongye Lingchen looked at him with a half-smile. “So it’s you. Well, your Five Ancestor Fist looks quite decent.”

Without further words, Gongye Lingchen turned, hands behind his back, and strode toward the arena.

Zhao Rui was surprised by his decisiveness and quickly followed.

Once on the platform, Gongye Lingchen said, “Come, let me see what you’ve got.”

Zhao Rui wasted no time. He circulated the Formed Fist energy and assumed the posture of the Five Ancestor Fist.

“Good. I won’t use internal energy either. Let’s just spar with moves!”

With that, Gongye Lingchen rushed forward, slashing a palm through the air at Zhao Rui.

Unfazed, Zhao Rui raised both palms in a horizontal block, stepping lightly forward. With a burst of palm force, swift as thunder, he parried.

Gongye Lingchen was startled and dodged hastily. Seeing that the moves had form but no power, his expression stiffened.

He narrowed his eyes and said, “Not bad, you have some spirit.”

Without hesitation, he launched a stronger attack. They exchanged blows over fifty rounds.

Neither used internal energy; it was purely a contest of technique. Though Gongye Lingchen’s Five Ancestor Fist was a sham in terms of power, its forms were real.

Without internal energy, Zhao Rui could still hold his own against Gongye Lingchen’s Great Demon Suppressing Palm for a dozen moves.

Moreover, Gongye Lingchen wanted to practice counters to the Five Ancestor Fist, which explained their prolonged sparring.

When Gongye Lingchen finally struck Zhao Rui’s back, causing him to stumble, they ceased.

“You learn fast!” Gongye Lingchen said, this time without mockery. “I’ll demonstrate some techniques. See how much you can pick up.”

Without waiting for objection, he launched a flurry of palm strikes in front of Zhao Rui.

This set was the opposite of the Five Ancestor Fist—soft and subtle, with awkward angles and strange postures.

Zhao Rui quickly took out his phone and recorded diligently.

When Gongye Lingchen finished, seeing Zhao Rui filming, he was unperturbed. “If you don’t learn this by tomorrow, don’t blame me for being harsh.”

He changed the subject. “Let’s spar again. You use Five Ancestor Fist, I’ll mix in other techniques.”

Before Zhao Rui could reply, Gongye Lingchen struck again.

“This bastard has no sense of martial courtesy!” Zhao Rui cursed silently, rushing to block.

At the same time, a prompt appeared in his mind: “Star-Shattering Palm available for copying. Copy now?”

Without hesitation, Zhao Rui clicked ‘copy.’

Besides Zhao Rui, other official team members were accompanied by mentors or coaches, practicing moves or receiving guidance.

Everyone trained with full concentration; an invisible pressure permeated the arena.

“I’m exhausted. Using the Formed Fist is more tiring than normal moves—I don’t want to move anymore,” Zhang Kui said, lying sprawled on the ground near the arena after lunch, looking utterly defeated.

Zhao Rui bent his knees and sat down slowly, watching the departing team members.

“Have they been here before?”

“Yeah, once during my freshman year.”

“How did it go?”

“Want the results?”

“Sure.”

“Besides Captain Gu and Ye Jingqiu, everyone else lost.”

“Everyone?”

Zhao Rui was taken aback. This was surprising, considering Dongqi Province University ranked among the top provincial martial arts teams.

“Ah, well, it’s partly because of us sophomores. Back then, the freshmen were weak—none won. The sophomores and juniors weren’t much stronger.”

“How come?”

“It’s about the students’ academic backgrounds. Our school didn’t emphasize academics much before, but starting two years ago, they tightened controls on academic standards. Not only did entrance exams weigh academics more heavily, but even internal team eliminations considered academic performance seriously.”

“The results are obvious.”

Zhao Rui nodded thoughtfully. Excelling both in studies and martial arts was rare and difficult.

Such policies would naturally filter out some martial arts talents.

These decisions from higher authorities were beyond the students’ say.

“Alright then, once Captain Gu and the others graduate, we’ll probably be even less competitive.”

Zhao Rui chuckled.

“By then, they probably won’t bother with friendly matches anymore.”

Zhang Kui grumbled, then sat up straight with a sigh. “I’ve decided. If I don’t meet the standards this semester, I’ll quit the team and focus on the civil service exam.”

He stood and said to Zhao Rui, “Let’s go eat.”

Zhao Rui nodded and followed.

The afternoon martial arts class continued, this time without sparring; instead, they analyzed past match footage on a projector, scrutinizing both teammates and opponents.

The analysis was meticulous, frame by frame.

Wang Zhanshan’s commentary was detailed and precise, covering the application of moves and extrapolating to other techniques.

He pointed out mistakes in both opponents’ and teammates’ moves, requiring players to stand and analyze their errors.

Zhao Rui listened intently, feeling as if hearing celestial music.

At this level, every move in a match was a treasured lesson—especially with a teacher’s detailed explanation.

This session lasted most of the afternoon. After analyzing two players’ matches, Wang Zhanshan ended the lecture and instructed the team to practice based on the explanation.

The two analyzed players did not include Gongye Lingchen, who, instead, called Zhao Rui over to begin their own drill.

His demeanor was far more serious than usual.

His usual taunts were noticeably fewer.

Zhao Rui could clearly sense his nervousness.

He wondered what sort of opponent could unsettle such a petty and arrogant person so deeply.

He looked forward to it.

Time flew until the afternoon class ended. Zhao Rui was about to grab his bag and leave with Zhang Kui when Gongye Lingchen’s authoritative voice rang out:

“Zhao Rui. After dinner, come back to the arena. Don’t be late.”

Without waiting for a response, Gongye Lingchen strode out of the hall.

“Damn it!” Zhao Rui silently mouthed.

Zhang Kui shrugged. “Let’s go.”

Zhao Rui shook his head with a sigh but followed. There was no way to refuse now.

Besides, he didn’t want to refuse.

Overtime training it was—once he mastered the Great Demon Suppressing Palm and Star-Shattering Fist, no one would dare challenge him.

After dinner, Zhao Rui arrived at the arena as promised, seeing not only Gongye Lingchen but also Ye Jingqiu present.

“Backdoor kid, you’ll spar with Senior Sister Ye. Use the Five Ancestor Fist,” Gongye Lingchen called loudly as Zhao Rui approached.

Zhao Rui acknowledged and greeted Ye Jingqiu.

“Senior Sister, hello.”

“Hello,” Ye Jingqiu replied expressionlessly, her delicate face cold and unreadable—like a plastic mannequin behind a shop counter.

Yet her demeanor suited her personality, giving off a chilling aura.

“Jingqiu, I’m worried they’ll switch players this time. It’s good for you to get familiar with the Five Ancestor Fist. Although this kid got in through connections, his Five Ancestor Fist is quite decent,” Gongye Lingchen said, turning to Ye Jingqiu.

“I know,” she nodded, her cold moonlit eyes glancing at Zhao Rui before saying, “Let’s begin.”

“Uh! Whatever you say, I’m just the sparring partner,” Zhao Rui muttered.

He nodded and stepped onto the arena with Ye Jingqiu.

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