Chapter 7: True Martial Arts

Zhang Ye's fingers tightened around the hammer's rough wooden grip. The iron head gleamed under the forge's flickering light, heavy and unyielding.

He pulled.

It didn't move.

Xiao Lan's breath hitched. "Brother…"

Master He smirked, arms crossed. "Giving up already?"

Zhang Ye exhaled, adjusting his stance. This body is weak. But technique can make up for it.

He bent his knees, aligned his back, and pulled again. This time, he didn't just use his arms he used his entire body.

The hammer budged.

Zhang Ye's muscles trembled, sweat beading on his forehead. But he didn't stop.

He grit his teeth.

And with a deep breath.

He lifted it.

The hammer came off the ground, heavy as a mountain. Zhang Ye's arms screamed in protest, but he took a step.

Then another.

The forge door loomed ahead, the well just beyond it.

Master He's smirk faded. His brows raised slightly.

Zhang Ye took another step.

His legs buckled.

The hammer slammed back down with a dull thud.

Zhang Ye gasped for breath, his body burning.

Xiao Lan ran to his side. "Brother, are you okay?"

Master He studied him, then let out a chuckle. "Not bad."

Zhang Ye wiped sweat from his brow. "So? Do I pass?"

Master He walked over, placing a heavy hand on his shoulder.

"You're weak," he said bluntly.

Zhang Ye smirked. "That's why I need training."

Master He let out a slow breath. Then, he turned to the forge.

"Be here before sunrise."

Zhang Ye's eyes sharpened. "So you'll teach me?"

Master He grabbed his hammer, slinging it over his shoulder. His gaze was piercing.

"I'll make you stronger," he said. "But you won't like how I do it."

Zhang Ye grinned.

Training starts tomorrow.

Zhang Ye dragged himself home, every muscle in his body aching from just that one attempt at lifting the hammer. This body really is pathetic. But it didn't matter. He had a teacher now.

Xiao Lan walked beside him, glancing up with worried eyes. "Brother… are you sure about this? Master He is really strict."

Zhang Ye smirked. "Good. That means he knows what he's doing."

Xiao Lan pouted. "You say that now, but you might regret it later."

He chuckled. "We'll see."

By the time they reached their small shack, Zhang Ye's limbs felt like lead. But his mind was clearer than ever.

He had three goals now.

One: Survive Master He's training.

Two: Grow stronger, fast.

Three: Find the Sky Piercing Sword.

Zhang Ye sat down by the fire pit, stretching out his sore arms. Tomorrow, everything changes.

Xiao Lan curled up on the straw mat, her small form rising and falling with steady breaths.

Zhang Ye, however, couldn't sleep.

He pulled out the blank paper. The words were still there, glowing faintly in the dim light.

"The sword that splits the sky lies beyond the heavens, waiting for its master."

His fingers traced the ink, his chest tightening.

Whatever this sword is… it's calling to me.

His grip tightened.

Tomorrow, his training would begin.

And one day, he'd claim what was his.

Before dawn, Zhang Ye was already awake.

His muscles still ached from yesterday, but he pushed the soreness aside. Pain meant nothing. Weakness wouldn't last.

Xiao Lan stirred as he stood, rubbing her sleepy eyes. "Brother… you're leaving already?"

"Training starts before sunrise," Zhang Ye said, adjusting his clothes.

Xiao Lan sat up, still groggy. "What if Master He makes you carry the hammer again?"

Zhang Ye smirked. "Then I'll carry it further."

Xiao Lan sighed. "I'll make sure we have medicine ready."

Zhang Ye chuckled and ruffled her hair before stepping outside. The cold morning air bit at his skin as he walked through the quiet village. The sky was still dark, tinged with hints of deep blue, and the only sounds were the distant chirping of insects.

When he reached the forge, Master He was already there.

The old blacksmith stood with his arms crossed, staring into the dying embers of the forge. His silhouette was like a mountain sturdy, unmoving.

"You're early," Master He said without looking up.

Zhang Ye smirked. "You said before sunrise."

Master He finally turned, his eyes sharp. "Good. Then let's begin."

He grabbed a large bucket of water and shoved it toward Zhang Ye. "Carry this. Walk around the village ten times."

Zhang Ye blinked. "…That's it?"

Master He raised a brow. "You complaining already?"

Zhang Ye exhaled and lifted the bucket. Heavy. But not impossible.

He took his first step.

Master He watched him go, a knowing smirk on his face.

Because this was just the beginning.

Zhang Ye took his first step, the bucket's weight pulling against his arms. It wasn't just water it felt twice as heavy as he expected.

He glanced inside. Rocks.

Master He had filled the bucket with stones beneath the water to add weight.

Zhang Ye scoffed. "So that's how it is?"

Master He smirked. "You wanted to get stronger. Now walk."

Zhang Ye rolled his shoulders and started moving.

The first lap around the village was easy. His body ached, but he ignored it.

By the third lap, his arms burned. The weight pulled at his shoulders, his grip tightening around the handle.

By the fifth lap, his legs shook. Sweat dripped down his face, soaking into his clothes.

Villagers stopped to watch. Some whispered. Others chuckled.

"Master He's got another victim, huh?"

"That kid won't last three days."

"Maybe not even one."

Zhang Ye gritted his teeth and kept walking. He didn't care what they thought.

By the eighth lap, every step felt like lifting a mountain. His fingers numbed. His breath came in ragged gasps.

Xiao Lan ran up beside him, worry in her eyes. "Brother! You can rest"

"No." Zhang Ye's voice was firm. Stopping was not an option.

He wasn't just walking.

He was proving himself.

By the tenth lap, his body screamed at him to stop. But he kept moving one foot in front of the other until he finally reached the forge again.

And dropped the bucket.

Water splashed across the dirt as Zhang Ye collapsed onto one knee, gasping for air.

Master He watched him silently.

Then, after a long pause, he nodded.

"Not bad," he said. "You didn't break your arms."

Zhang Ye laughed weakly. "Wasn't planning to."

Master He crossed his arms. "Come back tomorrow."

Zhang Ye wiped sweat from his forehead. "Same training?"

Master He smirked. "Heavier bucket."

Zhang Ye grinned.

This was exactly what he needed.

Zhang Ye sat on the ground, arms numb from the weight of the bucket. His entire body felt like it had been beaten with a stick twice.

But he didn't regret a single step.

Master He watched him carefully, his sharp eyes betraying just a hint of approval. "You're weak. But you don't quit. That's the only reason I'm keeping you around."

Zhang Ye smirked. "You'll have more reasons soon."

Master He snorted. "We'll see." He turned back toward the forge, grabbing a thick wooden staff from a nearby rack. He tossed it at Zhang Ye's feet.

Zhang Ye raised a brow. "What's this for?"

Master He smirked. "If you want to train properly, you need a foundation. Strength comes first. Technique comes second. That staff's your new best friend."

Zhang Ye picked it up, testing its weight. It was solid heavy but balanced.

Master He folded his arms. "Your next task swing that staff five hundred times. Proper form. No breaks."

Zhang Ye exhaled. "Five hundred, huh?"

Master He smirked. "What? Too much?"

Zhang Ye tightened his grip on the staff. His arms ached, but he refused to stop. Pain was temporary. Strength was forever.

He stepped into a stance, raised the staff.

And swung.

The first swing was easy.

The tenth swing sent dull pain through his shoulders.

By the fiftieth, sweat dripped from his face.

By the hundredth, his muscles screamed.

But Zhang Ye didn't stop.

Master He watched silently. Xiao Lan sat nearby, hugging her knees, eyes wide with concern. But she didn't say a word.

Because she understood.

Her brother wasn't the same as before.

He was climbing.

He was becoming something greater.

As Zhang Ye swung the staff again and again, his grip tightened. His movements sharpened. His body burned, but his mind was clear.

He would not stop.

By the time he reached the five hundredth swing, the sun was setting.

Zhang Ye collapsed to one knee, gasping for air. His hands trembled, his arms barely able to move.

Master He finally spoke.

"Not bad."

Zhang Ye smirked through the exhaustion. "Told you… I'd give you more reasons."

Master He chuckled. "Rest. Tomorrow, we go harder."

Zhang Ye exhaled.

Good. That's exactly what he wanted.