The main avenue of Wind Martial City was wide enough for three carriages to travel abreast. Shops lined both sides of the road.
Inside an ordinary teahouse, Chen Zong sat opposite Li Zhenshi. Each had a bowl of steaming tea and a plate of simple pastries before them—a far cry from the lavish fare at the Soaring Dragon Assembly. Yet Li Zhenshi picked up a pastry and ate it without the slightest hesitation or disdain, further improving Chen Zong's impression of him.
"There is indeed a realm beyond Subtlety," Li Zhenshi said with a gentle smile, speaking calmly and deliberately. His handsome features, elegant white martial robes, and refined demeanor frequently drew gazes, making him the center of attention in the teahouse. Even passersby turned to stare, especially young women.
"Brother Li, would you enlighten me?" Chen Zong asked, his eyes gleaming with hope and a hint of barely suppressed excitement.
"Of course," Li Zhenshi chuckled. "While this knowledge isn't widely circulated, it's hardly a closely guarded secret. However, the Li Clan's records on this realm are incomplete and unclear. I'll share what I know with you."
"Actually, the Subtlety Realm is already the pinnacle of martial arts cultivation," Li Zhenshi said solemnly. "The next level can be considered both a martial arts realm and a martial art in itself. This realm is called the True Secret, or the True Secret Realm."
"True Secret... True Secret Realm..." Chen Zong murmured to himself, sensing a profound mystery within those words.
The martial arts realms established by predecessors were rooted in logic and deep principles. The Perfection Realm, for instance, signified mastering a martial art to its ultimate form, grasping its core essence completely. It was akin to drawing a perfect circle, complete from beginning to end, hence its name, Perfection.
The Subtlety Realm, on the other hand, involved breaking free from the conventional limits of martial arts. It meant leaping beyond the confines of the circle, transcending its boundaries to master it completely. This signified achieving a new height in wielding one's power and martial arts, maximizing efficiency by using minimal force—symbolizing the triumph of the small over the mighty and meticulous precision.
Given this, the term "True Secret" must undoubtedly hold its own profound significance within the True Secret Realm.
"To be honest, I don't fully understand the mysteries of the True Secret Realm either," Li Zhenshi admitted. "No one in our Li Clan has ever cultivated their sword technique beyond the Subtlety Realm. But based on the vague records I've read since childhood, it's something like this..."
He paused, gathering his thoughts. "The True Secret Realm is essentially an understanding of martial arts that surpasses the Subtlety Realm, reaching a deeper level of comprehension. This allows one to deconstruct and reconstruct existing martial arts into entirely new forms that retain the original style's essence while extending it to its utmost potential."
Li Zhenshi glanced at Chen Zong. "Does that make sense?"
Chen Zong shook his head. Li Zhenshi's explanation was disjointed, and he couldn't quite grasp the meaning.
"Well, even I'm not sure I know what I'm saying myself," Li Zhenshi said with a wry smile. "But if you ever manage to comprehend the True Secret Realm, don't be stingy. You must show me!"
"Agreed," Chen Zong replied.
"Hearing you agree so readily makes me think you might actually achieve the True Secret Realm yourself," Li Zhenshi chuckled.
"I appreciate the good fortune," Chen Zong replied with a smile.
After a few more casual exchanges, the two parted ways.
"The True Secret Realm..."
"What kind of realm is that exactly?"
"Is it about breaking down existing martial arts, extending them, and creating entirely new disciplines?"
Chen Zong pondered these questions as he returned to the Chen Clan Hall.
No matter how hard he tried to grasp it, the concept remained elusive. His limited knowledge, lack of proper guidance, and insufficient foundation were his greatest weaknesses.
If I could read more martial arts manuals and related texts to broaden my understanding, that might help, Chen Zong mused inwardly. This meant he would need to find more time to peruse the miscellaneous notes and records in the Clan Hall, which didn't require Contribution Points.
"Chen Zong, you've kept me waiting long enough."
As Chen Zong approached the entrance of the Earth Courtyard, a figure blocked his path, his voice cold and sharp like a northern wind.
"Who are you?" Chen Zong asked, frowning, his thoughts abruptly interrupted.
"Remember my name: Chen Waixiu, a disciple of the Heaven Courtyard." The man seemed to take great pride in his affiliation with the Heaven Courtyard.
"What do you want?" Chen Zong asked, his tone impatient. No one enjoys having their thoughts disturbed without good reason.
"You've offended someone you shouldn't have," Chen Waixiu sneered, his laughter echoing with malice. "I'm going to teach you a lesson you won't soon forget."
"Chen Waixiu, what business do you have in our Earth Courtyard?" A voice rang out from the side. A slender, short youth darted forward like the wind, his gaze sweeping past Chen Zong to lock onto Chen Waixiu. "Think you can bully our Earth Courtyard disciples?"
"Worthless loser, scram," Chen Waixiu scoffed, glancing at the newcomer with disdain.
"Let's fight again! We'll see who the real loser is this time!" The youth's voice trembled with fury.
"Get lost! Even if we fought a hundred more times, you'd still be my punching bag," Chen Waixiu waved dismissively, as if swatting away a fly.
"Chen Waixiu, this is the Earth Courtyard. You're not welcome here." A deep, steady voice cut through the tension. Chen Waixiu turned, his expression shifting slightly.
"Chen Zhong, I'm here on orders from Clan Brother Chen He. If you have a problem, take it up with him yourself," Chen Waixiu retorted, emboldened by his backing.
"Chen He..." A ripple of unease spread through Chen Zhong and his companions. Chen He was one of the Ten Elite Disciples, ranked second among them.
"Chen Zong, obediently kneel outside Senior Brother Chen He's courtyard and kowtow three times, and I'll spare you this once," Chen Waixiu sneered, glaring menacingly at Chen Zong.
"Your cultivation base is at the fourth layer of the Qi Blood Realm, isn't it?" Chen Zong suddenly countered.
Clan Hall rules strictly forbade disciples with higher cultivation bases from personally attacking those with lower cultivation bases, unless the latter had provoked the conflict first. Violators faced penalties ranging from a hundred Contribution Points to a month of unpaid mining labor in the clan's mines. While a month of mining might not seem physically daunting, it would severely disrupt cultivation and cause significant humiliation.
"Clan Brother Chen Zong, he is indeed at the fourth layer of the Qi Blood Realm, but he's a year ahead of you and has already reached its peak," Chen Zhong warned, his voice heavy with concern.
"So, which will it be? Will you kneel and kowtow to Clan Brother Chen He, or would you prefer a beating from me?" Chen Waixiu gloated, flexing his fist.
"Still stuck at the fourth layer after almost a year of cultivation..." Chen Zong shook his head dismissively.
"So, you've chosen the latter," Chen Waixiu snarled, his face contorting with anger and humiliation. Like a starving wolf lunging at its prey, he threw a vicious punch at Chen Zong's chest.
The ear-splitting clang of metal on metal pierced the air, shattering the onlookers' eardrums. A blinding sword light flashed, its icy aura enveloping the hall. Chen Waixiu felt as if he were about to be impaled by an impossibly sharp blade, and he froze mid-motion.
The razor-thin sword tip hovered a mere inch from his throat. The chilling sensation sent shivers down his spine, his blood turning to ice, his body numb with terror. Goosebumps erupted across his neck, his skin prickling with dread.
"If you're so skilled, put down the sword!" Chen Waixiu stammered, his face pale. That strike had been too close for comfort; only his quick reflexes had saved him. Unbeknownst to him, Chen Zong had held back, confident he could have pierced his throat at any moment.
"You have two choices," Chen Zong said, his eyes sharp and piercing, like honed steel. Even a brief gaze into them felt blindingly sharp. His voice was calm, yet laced with an arctic indifference. "One: my sword leaves a scar on your neck. Two: crawl back to whatever hole you crawled out of."
Chen Waixiu hastily retreated, glaring resentfully at Chen Zong and then at the sword in his hand. His eyes widened in disbelief as he recognized it—a Precious Iron Sword.
"Relying on a sword's advantage is nothing to brag about," Chen Waixiu spat venomously. "Just wait. Offending Clan Brother Chen He won't be so easily forgiven." With these parting words, he stormed off in a fit of anger.
"Clan Brother Chen Zong, how did you manage to offend Chen He?" Chen Zhong asked, his gaze lingering on the Precious Iron Sword in Chen Zong's hand. Though surprised, he wasn't envious, as he didn't practice swordsmanship.
"Chen He ranks second among the Ten Elite Disciples. You actually dared to provoke him? You truly overestimate yourself," the gaunt, short youth sneered coldly before turning and leaving.
"It's nothing, Clan Brother. Thank you, Clan Brother Chen Zhong," Chen Zong replied with a faint smile. The reason was simple: he had refused Chen He's request to join the Fist Technique Group, earning the man's resentment, and had then publicly humiliated him at the recent Soaring Dragon Assembly. Ultimately, it was all due to Chen He's own narrow-mindedness.
"As fellow disciples of the Earth Courtyard and natives of Small Lake Town, we should support each other. If you ever need help, Clan Brother, don't hesitate to ask," Chen Zhong said warmly. Sensing Chen Zong's reluctance to elaborate, he tactfully refrained from pressing further. Smiling, he bid farewell and departed.
Just as Chen Waixiu had predicted, the matter was far from settled. Before long, trouble came knocking again.
"Chen Zong, my name is Chen Kaiyue. I heard you possess a Precious Iron Sword. With your meager fourth-layer Qi Blood Realm cultivation base, it's nothing more than a gem gathering dust in your hands. You'd be better off handing it over to me." The man standing outside after Chen Zong opened the door had a frosty expression and carried a sword in his left hand, clearly a fellow swordsman.
"How many Contribution Points are you offering?" Chen Zong countered.
"Give me the sword, and I'll owe you a favor," Chen Kaiyue replied stiffly, his brow furrowing slightly.
"A favor..." Chen Zong chuckled. He hadn't cared for the favors of Li Zhenshi, the young gang leader of the noble Li Clan. What value could a mere Heaven Courtyard disciple's favor possibly hold?
To be frank, Chen Zong had initially found the Precious Iron Sword awkward to wield, but it now felt natural in his hand. He intended to keep using it unless absolutely necessary.
"Chen Zong, are you mocking me? I could take that as a challenge," Chen Kaiyue's gaze sharpened, his eyes like unsheathed swords poised to pierce Chen Zong's.
"Attempted theft by force?" Chen Zong smiled and closed the door.
"Chen Zong, you'll regret this," Chen Kaiyue's cold, angry voice echoed through the closed door.
Chen Zong shook his head, sighing inwardly. People like Li Zhenshi, born into privilege yet possessing genuine humility and grace, were a pleasure to interact with. Others, like Chen Kaiyue, came from ordinary backgrounds but were bloated with arrogance. The disparity was truly remarkable.