The door creaked open.
Wang Yiyang emerged with dark circles under his eyes, looking exhausted. He saw his grandfather, Wang Xinlong, already standing in the courtyard, beginning his morning practice.
Wang Xinlong was practicing a boxing technique called the Moon Empty Fist. His movements flowed into one another with fierce momentum, creating a powerful spectacle.
Wang Yiyang had watched many times before. Yet each time, he felt his grandfather's fists came from unexpected angles. No matter how often he watched, he never saw them coming. The defense seemed impossible.
After completing a full routine, grandfather exhaled a long breath of white vapor. He took a towel from the maid and wiped the sweat from his brow.
"How about it? Want to try a set? Get your blood flowing?"
"No thanks. Not interested in it." Wang Yiyang smiled and shook his head.
"That's a shame," Wang Xinlong's voice boomed across the courtyard. "When your blood and qi are vigorous, your spirit stays sharp. You handle anything with ease, and in important moments, your presence can dominate everyone around you."
"Master speaks the truth. Spirit, qi, and essence form the foundation of being. Essence can reshape the physical world, while spirit can influence others. Each has its use." Zhong Can appeared at the side of the courtyard. His expression was calm, his voice measured.
Wang Yiyang glanced at him, still feeling a faint unease in his chest.
"Senior brother is right." He nodded in agreement.
Zhong Can's gaze drifted past Wang Yiyang toward something distant. His eyes held an emptiness.
"But any killing is mutual destruction—a thousand enemies lost at the cost of eight hundred of your own. No matter how lopsided the battle, you risk harm. I have always pursued something different: victory without fighting."
"Victory without fighting?" Wang Yiyang mused aloud.
"Correct. The martial art of overwhelming force through perfect stance—that is the application of heaven and earth. Not my pursuit." Zhong Can's tone remained flat. "My pursuit is something else entirely."
"What is it?" Wang Yiyang's curiosity was piqued. He pressed further.
"What I seek is to conquer through spirit alone. To make my enemy feel fear so deeply that their mind shatters before any strike is thrown. To make them frozen by that terror, and then..." Zhong Can's words halted midsentence as Wang Xinlong barked sharply.
"Enough!"
The old man's voice rang out like thunder, resonating through the entire courtyard. The maid nearby went pale and trembled, nearly dropping her towel.
"You still haven't abandoned that twisted path?" Wang Xinlong's eyes fixed on Zhong Can, intense and cold. His powerful frame resembled a coiled beast, radiating suppressed authority.
Wang Yiyang could see something was wrong.
Zhong Can's approach to martial arts had created a rift with his master.
Zhong Can said nothing. For the next ten minutes or more, he remained completely silent.
The silence hung heavy. Wang Yiyang eventually steered the conversation with his recovering grandfather toward other topics. But he kept stealing glances at Zhong Can.
What was this senior brother, who had trained alongside his grandfather for so many years, truly thinking? Likely only Zhong Can himself knew.
After the morning practice, other disciples began arriving at the martial hall.
Men and women, mostly in their thirties and beyond. Many had opened their own training centers elsewhere but returned out of respect for Wang Xinlong and force of habit.
With so many gathered, their connections formed a valuable network.
With the numbers, Wang Yiyang barely knew most of them, so he had little chance to speak with his grandfather.
Zhong Can became busy as well, drawn into discussions about combat techniques with various students. Seemingly no longer focused on this corner, he allowed Wang Yiyang to breathe easier.
Seeing the crowd was substantial, Wang Yiyang decided to take a walk outside the martial hall, toward the small river on the right side.
From childhood, he loved walking alone along this river, collecting stones to skip across the water.
Later, as he grew older and worried about people calling it childish, he just walked.
Even later, Wang Yiyang began studying the ripples on the water's surface.
Ripples moving in different directions—like two nations at war, each vying for dominance.
He would secretly guess which would win, then watch the result.
When his chosen side lost, he'd kick stones into the water in protest, creating larger ripples to join the battle.
"What are you doing here alone?" A voice suddenly came from behind him.
His relaxed body immediately tensed. He turned slowly.
Standing behind him was senior brother Zhong Can.
Zhong Can carried the faint smell of alcohol. His expression remained calm, hands hanging naturally at his sides—appearing as if he had simply come for a stroll.
Wang Yiyang quickly composed himself and kept his face neutral.
"Finished eating, thought I'd take a walk. I've liked coming here since I was small."
"You enjoy solitude?" Zhong Can approached and similarly kicked a stone into the water.
"Well enough. Sometimes I just need quiet." Wang Yiyang tried to keep his expression natural, but as the man drew closer, he couldn't help but feel goosebumps rise on his skin.
His eyes tracked Zhong Can's right hand, which was slowly opening its fingers.
"When are you leaving? I'll see you off." Zhong Can said it slowly.
"Not necessary. I can manage on my own." Wang Yiyang forced a smile. "By the way, about what you said earlier—about pursuing victory without fighting—what exactly did you mean? You didn't finish before grandfather interrupted. Is something wrong?"
He struggled to make his smile appear ignorant and natural.
This was difficult. Yet he was someone who had already died once. Death itself no longer seemed so heavy.
What truly terrified him was dying without saving his grandfather.
This was an opportunity. A chance to understand Zhong Can up close.
Why did he want to act? Why would he abandon years of trust and slaughter the entire hall? What power stood behind him?
Zhong Can exhaled slowly and looked at Wang Yiyang with an odd expression.
"Do you know about fear-induced paralysis in living creatures?"
"Fear-induced paralysis?"
"Yes. In biology, it's called one of the survival instincts. When a creature faces an enemy it absolutely cannot defeat, it may enter complete paralysis. The thinking is that a predator, seeing a motionless prey with no sign of aggression, might lose interest and leave it alive."
Zhong Can spoke casually, his tone relaxed, as though having a casual conversation.
"What I'm pursuing is causing fear in my opponent before any exchange. Making their mind shatter from terror before we even clash.
Sadly, my master doesn't approve. He thinks I've chosen a twisted path. Yet in three consecutive external tournaments, I achieved far better results than before. Yet he still doesn't recognize it."
Wang Yiyang noticed a faint tremor in Zhong Can's fingers.
"Why not? Isn't the effect good?" he asked.
"Because I hit them a bit too hard." Zhong Can's lips curved into an unsettling smile. "But that's the path to true fear. The essence of combat is trampling your opponent's flesh and blood, climbing the ladder to absolute evolution."
"I don't agree with that." Wang Yiyang couldn't help but object. The moment the words left his mouth, Zhong Can's hand jerked. Blood vessels bulged across his knuckles, and an indescribable pressure suddenly emanated from his entire body.
Wang Yiyang's heart skipped. He forced down the wave of danger he felt.
He knew he could be killed by this man's fist at any moment.
But this was the best chance to understand what Zhong Can truly thought. For the sake of investigation, he wasn't willing to back down.
"Pure violence and gore can generate fear, perhaps," Wang Yiyang said quietly. "But it only frightens a small group of onlookers locally. It doesn't work on a larger scale. So your goal is just a niche path."
Zhong Can had been ready to strike, to kill Wang Yiyang right here, then return to finish the old man. One problem solved.
But Wang Yiyang's words piqued his interest. He had come to kill. Now, suddenly, he wanted to hear what this boy had to say.
"So what should I do?" Zhong Can asked, his eyes narrowing.
Wang Yiyang's mind raced. His expression remained composed and natural.
He could feel the immediate threat receding. Clearly, the man had temporarily abandoned the idea of killing him.
"Simple," Wang Yiyang said softly. "If you had enough grace, you'd do something that ordinary people could never accomplish. Build your reputation. Victory without fighting doesn't require fear alone. Strong fame can achieve it too."
"That's different." Zhong Can shook his head. "Reputation only brings a sense of pressure."
"You haven't tried it. How do you know it won't work?" Wang Yiyang countered.
Zhong Can fell silent, as if contemplating the answer to his question.
"Think about it carefully. I'm going back to rest." Wang Yiyang felt his nerves stretched taut. He turned and walked back toward the martial hall, appearing unbothered.
He took one step, then another, then a third.
"Why didn't you learn martial arts back then?" Zhong Can's voice drifted from behind him.
Wang Yiyang stopped mid-stride.
"Because of the times. Times have changed."
He continued walking without waiting for a reply. This time, Zhong Can didn't call him back.
Step by step, Wang Yiyang moved away. Sweat soaked his inner shirt.
Only when he reached the side door of the martial hall, when his hand grasped the doorframe and his foot touched the steps—only then did the solid ground beneath him feel real. Only then did his heart settle.
Looking at the door before him, Wang Yiyang was about to release a long breath and pull it open.
Suddenly, his vision flickered.
At the bottom right corner of his visual field, a line of tiny text appeared. The characters were exquisitely precise.
They were not in any language he recognized, yet somehow, he understood their meaning.
"What the..." Wang Yiyang muttered. "Did I not sleep last night? Am I seeing things?"
He pulled open the door casually, walked inside, shut it behind him, then stood in the cool shade and carefully examined the text in the corner of his vision.
This time he could make out the meaning clearly.
'…Database deficient. Automatic search and repair in progress. Please wait.'
Wang Yiyang's heart jumped. Another hallucination? He felt something wasn't right inside him.
Before he could respond, the line of text jumped upward. Like a programmer coding, another line appeared below.
'…Random search complete. Spacetime framework established. System core restarting.'
Lines of small text began appearing rapidly.
'Core activation complete.'
'Registering identity...'
'Registration complete.'
'Likeness reconstruction beginning.'
'Your rank: Bronze Tier. Generating Bronze Tier identity.'