Chapter Seventeen: What Is Martial Arts
Because Liu Pan admitted defeat, the competition for new disciples came to an abrupt end. The final ranking was announced: Ye Ming took first place, Liu Kuang second, and Liu Pan third. All three were granted the privilege of entering the sect’s Scripture Pavilion to select a martial art manual free of charge. As for the champion, there was an additional reward: a Barrier-breaking Pill, a rare elixir that could help a martial artist at the ninth level break through to the rank of Martial Apprentice.
For Liu Kuang, the Barrier-breaking Pill was of little consequence. With Yan as his mentor, breaking through to the Martial Apprentice level was never a challenge. In Liu Pan’s story, it was Liu Kuang who claimed first place in the new disciples’ tournament, yet he did not use the pill, choosing instead to break through under Yan’s personal guidance.
As for Liu Pan himself, he had no interest in the Barrier-breaking Pill. Possessing the Extreme Cold Constitution, if he needed an elixir merely to surpass the ninth level of martial arts, he might as well abandon the martial path altogether.
No sooner had the end of the tournament been announced than a burly, middle-aged man of about thirty, seated to Yang Jiangshui’s left on the viewing platform, rose to his feet.
“Everyone.” His voice rolled out like thunder, quelling all sound in the square in an instant. Naturally, all eyes turned to him at once.
He swept his gaze over the crowd, pausing momentarily as he felt the weight of their attention before continuing, “The new disciples’ tournament is concluded. Now, all outer-sect disciples will be reassigned to new peaks.”
“Reassignment?” The new disciples were bewildered, while the old disciples’ eyes glinted knowingly.
The burly man offered no further explanation, but sat back down at his table. He picked up a list from the stone table before him and handed it to a young disciple standing nearby.
The young disciple received the list respectfully, glanced over it, then stepped forward and read aloud:
“Based on the results of the new disciples’ tournament and the evaluation of the old disciples’ competition half a month ago, the following is the new assignment of outer-sect disciples to peaks:
First, male disciples. The residents of Peak Nine: Ye Ming, Zhao Chang, Liu Kuang, Liu Pan, Hu Lang—a total of twenty.
Peak Nine: Zhao Fei, Yang Zijiang, Li Dan—forty in all.
Peak Ten: seventy residents.
Peak Eleven: one hundred and two.
Peak Twelve: one hundred and sixty.
Peak Thirteen: two hundred and thirteen.
All other male disciples whose names have not been called have attained the Martial Apprentice rank; they are assigned to Peak Eight, totaling sixteen disciples.
Female disciples: Peak Six, thirty-four residents.
Peak Seven, seventy-three residents.”
The young disciple finished reading, returned the list to the table with both hands, bowed to the sect master and elders, then withdrew.
As soon as he finished, the square erupted in excitement—at least, the new disciples did, while the old remained silent as ever.
“What’s going on? What is this reassignment all about?”
“How should I know? Oh heavens, I’ve been put in Peak Twelve—one hundred and sixty people! How can we all fit? There aren’t enough houses!”
“At least you have houses! I’ve been assigned to Peak Thirteen—over three hundred people! Forget houses; there won’t even be enough eaves for us to sleep under!”
“I protest! I’m a martial artist at the eighth level—why am I put in Peak Thirteen?”
“I protest too!”
Complaints and protests filled the square, the noise rising to a chaotic din.
“Silence!”
Amidst the uproar, the thunderous voice rang out again, accompanied by an invisible pressure descending from the platform.
Instantly, every disciple fell silent, cowed by the overwhelming authority.
The burly man stood again, sweeping his gaze over the silent crowd. “The new assignments are based solely on your performance in the entrance tournament. Some of you feel it’s unfair—‘Why am I, with higher cultivation, assigned to Peak Twelve or Thirteen?’ Let me make it clear: these assignments are determined only by your performance, not your cultivation level!”
The new disciples fell silent, but only for a moment—there are always those bold enough to speak.
“I protest!”
The sudden outcry stunned the crowd, who turned in disbelief to see who it was.
A young man in embroidered robes stood there, his face fair and his brow proud. Though the pressure from the platform made his legs tremble and sweat bead on his brow, his arrogance was undiminished. Clearly, he was one accustomed to looking down on others.
Surprised that someone could speak up under his pressure, the burly man raised a curious brow, glancing over. But the curiosity faded at once, and he asked calmly, “Tell me your name, which peak you’ve been assigned to, and the reason for your protest.”
“Elder, my name is Zhao Fei, assigned to Peak Nine. My protest concerns Liu Pan being placed in Peak Eight!” Wiping sweat from his brow, Zhao Fei continued, “Elder, you said the assignments are based on our performance in the entrance tournament. For most, I have no objection, but Liu Pan, though he placed third, forfeited his last two matches. This is against the indomitable spirit of the martial path—how can he be qualified for Peak Eight?”
His words sparked a flurry of whispers, not only among new disciples but also among the old, who murmured their doubts about Liu Pan’s place on Peak Eight.
Yet the burly man seemed utterly unconcerned by Zhao Fei’s objection. Glancing at the list on the table, he quickly understood why only Zhao Fei had protested.
Those who protest always have a motive—no one picks a fight without reason, especially against someone who broke into the top three.
Zhao Fei’s real reason, though it might appear as righteous indignation, was dissatisfaction with being assigned to Peak Nine. As the first name on that list, if Liu Pan were expelled from Peak Eight, Zhao Fei would likely be promoted in his place. This was his true aim.
“I will explain your objection,” the burly man said, “but first, let me remind you: your name has just been moved from Peak Nine to Peak Thirteen.”
His tone was calm, but the meaning struck Zhao Fei like a blow. His face went pale, and he collapsed to the ground, unable to withstand the platform’s pressure.
The rest, seeing Zhao Fei demoted for a single complaint, fell silent, not daring to utter another word.
Ignoring Zhao Fei, the burly man surveyed the crowd and continued, “I know many of you wonder why Liu Pan was assigned to Peak Eight. Allow me to explain.
What is the martial path?” he suddenly asked.
No one answered. All stood in fearful silence.
“I believe you all know the martial path is about forging ahead without retreat,” he said, pausing once more to let his words settle. “But tell me—do any of you truly understand what the martial path is?”
No one spoke. Many were confused. Wasn’t the martial path just about pressing forward? Was there more to it?
“Yes, the martial path is about forging ahead. But it must not be blind.” He glanced at Liu Pan, then looked around. “Why did Liu Pan forfeit his last two matches and still earn a place on Peak Nine? Because he understands the martial path better than any of you!”
At these words, many looked at Liu Pan in shock, even Zhao Fei, still seated on the ground, stared blankly at him.
The pressure from the platform remained, yet in this moment, it seemed to vanish for many, who gazed at Liu Pan, forgetting even to tremble.
The burly man was not surprised by their reaction. A faint glint appeared in his eyes. “You think he forfeited out of fear, or because he was lacking in strength?”
“Perhaps some of you truly believe that, but I will tell you the truth! He forfeited not from fear, nor from weakness, but because his only goal was to reach the top three—nothing more.”
“The martial path should be relentless, but it must also have purpose and direction. In forfeiting, Liu Pan demonstrated a deeper understanding of the martial path than any of you.”
“This conclusion was reached by the sect master and all the elders together.”