Master Chen’s expression was... quite a spectacle.
It carried a strange blend of shock and amusement, as if he’d just seen a ghost.
“‘Strength like a bull’? What does that even mean?”
Su Zhe, ever perceptive, caught onto the critical phrase immediately.
Master Chen reached out, gave Su Zhe’s frame a thorough squeeze, and began to explain:
“All things in this world follow the Dao. To excel in any craft is to be blessed by the heavens.”
“We blacksmiths have our Crafting Dao. Martial artists? They have their Martial Dao.”
“In martial cultivation, the foundation of everything is one’s natural talent, which we call root aptitude.”
“Root aptitude is categorized into four main grades: A, B, C, and D. Each grade has three sub-levels—upper, middle, and lower. Take me, for example. I’m not worth mentioning—just a B-grade, lower-tier aptitude.”
“As for your own root aptitude, it takes a skilled martial artist trained in bone-reading to determine it. Unfortunately, I don’t have that expertise.”
Instead of answering Su Zhe’s initial question outright, Master Chen first delved into the fundamentals of root aptitude and talent, laying the groundwork for what was to come.
Su Zhe came from humble beginnings.
In the fishing village of the Su family, locals called martial artists “lords” with awe-filled reverence.
This moment, this chance to learn, was a rare opportunity indeed.
“Knowledge changes destinies,” Su Zhe thought, his expression earnest as he listened attentively. He even took the liberty of tidying up Master Chen’s teacup and brewing a fresh pot of tea.
Master Chen, noticing Su Zhe’s humility and diligence, felt his initial annoyance fade, replaced by a deepening appreciation for the young man.
Through Master Chen’s explanation, Su Zhe gained a clear understanding.
Root aptitude, he learned, was the foundation of martial cultivation. Without a solid foundation, building a towering success was impossible.
Generally, those with D-grade aptitude lacked the potential for martial arts. A lifetime of effort might yield no more than a healthy body and robust vitality.
C-grade aptitude was passable; after over a decade of grueling effort, one might become a formal martial artist.
B-grade aptitude was exceptional. With it, one could bypass many hurdles—those at the lower tier could enter the Ironclad Guild’s inner circle with the aid of bone-transference techniques.
A-grade aptitude, however, was the pinnacle—a rarity among rarities. In the Ironclad Guild, anyone with such talent would be nurtured with the guild’s full resources.
“If even lower-tier B-grade aptitude suffices for inner-circle entry, my chances should be good.”
Su Zhe mused privately, considering the situation. With the abilities he had inherited, the path forward seemed promising.
“As for ‘strength like a bull,’” Master Chen continued, “it refers to a person’s natural physique, also known as a beastly trait.”
“The Martial Dao stems from the wisdom of our ancestors, who observed the heavens, the earth, and all living creatures. For instance, in our guild, there is the Wild Bull Shattering Rock Technique. It was created by mimicking the movements and postures of a wild bull.”
“Some people are naturally born with the ‘strength like a bull’ trait, making them highly suited to techniques like the Wild Bull Shattering Rock Technique. On the other hand, achieving mastery in the technique can also manifest such traits.”
To illustrate, Master Chen tensed his abdomen, and with a subtle flare of his nostrils, two visible streams of white air burst forth.
It was a demonstration of power. Strength like a bull, indeed!
Su Zhe couldn’t help but gape, a mix of awe and surprise on his face.
“Your root aptitude determines your talent for martial cultivation as a whole,” Master Chen concluded. “But beastly traits? They’re especially advantageous for specific techniques.”
“You’ve been my apprentice for three years now, diligent and honest. From what I see, your body is maturing, and your unique potential is beginning to reveal itself.”
Master Chen’s tone grew warmer, almost paternal, as he patted Su Zhe on the shoulder with approval.
The outer blacksmith workshop boasted hundreds of apprentices, yet true standouts were few.
With Su Zhe’s apparent “strength like a bull” trait, his chances of advancing to the inner circle were extremely high.
Master Chen, typically aloof with apprentices, now regarded Su Zhe with newfound camaraderie. If Su Zhe entered the inner circle, it would only be a matter of time before he became a martial artist—an equal to Master Chen in status.
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“So, mastering a martial art can also lead to beastly traits...”
Su Zhe pondered this revelation.
“But Master Chen could never guess the truth—I’ve already inherited his memories of the Wild Bull Technique. My mastery of it has advanced enough to display the ‘strength like a bull’ trait.”
“Sometimes, misunderstandings make relationships more harmonious,” he thought with a wry smile, letting the matter rest.
Work in the blacksmith workshop began for the day.
Su Zhe wielded his hammer with zeal, mentally declaring, ‘Long live the working class!’ He entered a state of complete focus, combining his inherited knowledge of blacksmithing and martial arts to temper raw iron into refined steel with unmatched precision.
Master Chen, who berated and scolded other apprentices without hesitation, showered Su Zhe with praise.
“Hard work makes up for a lack of talent,” he said, watching Su Zhe’s flawless technique. “Your skill has improved leaps and bounds—nearly catching up to mine!”
“All thanks to your teaching, Master Chen,” Su Zhe replied humbly. “In both craft and character, I still have much to learn from you.”
Master Chen chuckled. “Fate brought us together. No need for such formality. With your ‘strength like a bull,’ your chances of entering the inner circle are nearly guaranteed. Once you’re a martial artist, just call me Brother Chen!”
And so, the day progressed, with Su Zhe hammering away, his aspirations growing ever closer to reality.
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"Got it, Brother Chen. You're in your prime—calling you ‘Master’ makes you sound ancient," Su Zhe replied with an easygoing smile. His tone was respectful yet perfectly balanced, striking just the right note.
A few casual remarks, and suddenly the two were chatting like old friends, their camaraderie growing deeper with each exchange.
"Unbelievable! Brother Zhe is a genius—he's even melted Stone-Face Chen!" Han Yue'er, another apprentice, muttered under her breath, her admiration for Su Zhe soaring.
Navigating human relationships is an art, and Su Zhe was clearly a master craftsman.
THE IRONFORGE’S STRANGE DYNAMICS
From that day onward, an odd scene unfolded in the forge.
While Chen Shifu berated and occasionally even kicked the other apprentices into submission, his interactions with Su Zhe were a stark contrast—filled with laughter and encouragement.
The other apprentices couldn't help but cast Su Zhe pitiful and jealous glances, lamenting the unfairness of it all.
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Having handed in three perfectly refined ingots of steel, Su Zhe left the forge amid envious stares.
TRAINING GROUND BREAKTHROUGH
Finding a quiet patch of wilderness, Su Zhe resumed his relentless practice of the Mighty Ox Stone-Crushing Hammer Technique.
His movements were fluid and precise, like a flowing river.
Bang!
The eight-pound hammer flew from his hands, propelled by a force so intense it tore through the air, creating a faint whistling sound.
A tree as thick as a man’s arm snapped in two.
"The Mighty Ox Hammer consists of three parts: the hammer technique itself, the stance technique, and a specialized breathing method," Su Zhe mused, eyes narrowing in thought.
"These three form the foundation. Mastering them to the ‘Minor Achievement’ stage officially marks entry into the first rank of warriors."
Chen Shifu, bound by duty, had refrained from teaching him the full hammer technique. Yet, out of genuine fondness for Su Zhe, he had provided a thorough grounding in martial theory.
In the martial world, warriors were divided into nine ranks, with the pinnacle beyond them being the Grandmaster Realm.
Legends spoke of grandmasters traversing a thousand miles in a day, shattering mountains with their fists and splitting rivers with their kicks. Their will was said to transcend mortality, reaching realms of unimaginable power.
Thanks to the hammer technique’s insights and his intense battle with the Boar Dragon, Su Zhe’s understanding had deepened.
"Perhaps in just a few more days," Su Zhe thought, his breathing slowing as he practiced the Mighty Ox Breathing Technique.
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In this world, the path of a first-rank warrior, or "refining essence into qi," was all about tempering one’s vital energy. By honing their blood and essence through practice, warriors could gradually transform it into qi.
Mastering three-tenths of one’s vital energy marked the "Minor Achievement" stage. Six-tenths signified "Moderate Achievement," and nine-tenths "Major Achievement." When the transformation was complete, a warrior reached the pinnacle of the first rank.
"Finally, I'm making some progress," Su Zhe muttered, rolling his neck as his bones gave a crisp crack.
Still, without undergoing the Bone Assessment Ritual, he couldn’t openly reveal himself as a warrior.
"Fortunately, at this stage, the energy is subtle and mostly hidden within. Unless a grandmaster examines me closely, no one will notice. Otherwise, I'd have to come up with some elaborate explanation about learning the Mighty Ox Technique prematurely."
Smiling wryly, Su Zhe reminded himself to stay cautious. In this martial world, every step forward was hard-earned.
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HOMECOMING
Back home, Su Zhe devoured large portions of Boar Dragon meat, replenishing the energy lost through intense training.
Meanwhile, his uncle, Su Yuan, finished his meal and carefully locked the wooden door. Retrieving a bundle wrapped in black cloth from his chest, he carefully unfolded it to reveal an oilcloth package beneath.
"Seventy pounds of Boar Dragon meat earned us twenty taels of silver," Su Yuan recited, his voice trembling slightly with excitement.
"The bones fetched another ten taels, and yesterday's fish catch brought in 150 copper coins."
He paused, the room falling silent.
Gulp!
The sound of Aunt Lin Xia swallowing her excitement echoed conspicuously in the quiet room.
"We’re rich! The Su family is rich!"
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Su Zhe furrowed his brow. "Wait, Uncle, wasn’t it supposed to be thirty taels? Why is it only twenty-five?"
In the dim candlelight, Su Yuan’s face darkened. "Hmph, what else could it be? That wretched Fish Tyrant, Huang Scabface! Damn it, such bad luck!"
The thought of losing five taels to the local thug made Su Yuan grit his teeth in frustration. To him, it felt like being robbed at knifepoint.
"Five taels, just like that!" Su Yuan’s voice trembled. "Your cousin risked his life for that dragon, and Scabface snatched it away with a single word. How can I not feel like my heart’s been ripped out?"
Lin Xia quickly placed a soothing hand on her husband’s chest. "Let it go, dear. Think of it as paying to avoid worse trouble."
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Su Zhe’s fists clenched under the table.
The tyranny of those in power… the despair of the common people.
Even after taxes and countless fees, the villagers still had to endure oppression from local bullies who preyed on the weak. Life for the ordinary folk was painfully unfair.
He let out a quiet sigh. "The rise and fall of kingdoms… yet the suffering always falls on the people."
For now, he kept his thoughts to himself.