Chapter 65: Traditional Martial Arts Instructor

Faced with Lu Yue’s aggressive challenge, any cultivator with a shred of pride would have been tempted to rush forward and teach him a lesson—but most had already been beaten into silence, leaving them no choice but to swallow their anger.

Li Yi was young, but he wasn’t a reckless fool, so he refused Lu Yue’s challenge; he came to the training ground to focus, learn, and train—not to prove himself.

So he simply ignored him.

Faced with Li Yi’s indifference, Lu Yue lost interest and turned to taunt others.

“Li Yi, you’re good—you can stay calm. Remember yesterday? Another new recruit got provoked by Lu Yue’s words just like you, ended up getting crushed in sparring, and’s still lying in the hospital. Even though Lu Yue offered to pay medical bills, this kind of behavior is humiliating—it crushes a cultivator’s spirit and harms their future cultivation.”

Instructor Li Shudi, watching Li Yi remain composed, let out a quiet breath of relief.

“I’m not afraid of Lu Yue—I just don’t want to hurt or maim people for no reason,” Li Yi said.

Li Shudi’s eyebrows lifted in surprise. “Oh? You think you can beat Lu Yue?”

Li Yi replied, “I’ve learned a martial art that doesn’t belong to this world—it was born to kill. Every strike either kills or maims. Lu Yue isn’t my enemy—I have no reason to use him as a test dummy.”

“Martial art?”

Li Shudi’s expression shifted suddenly—he remembered something. “Wait—you said your name is Li Yi? You’re not the one who killed eight Spirit Medium cultivators in the old district seven days ago, are you? Word is even Spirit Awakening cultivators couldn’t match you—they lost a leg after a direct clash.”

“Uh… did my business get that big? Even you know about it?” Li Yi said, slightly embarrassed.

As a youth who only wanted to improve, he had no desire for such notoriety.

Li Shudi laughed. “I don’t know if others care, but as a martial arts instructor, I pay close attention to incidents like this. I’m curious—what kind of martial art could let a cultivator unleash such power? Speaking of martial arts, Li Yi, do you know why our nation’s traditional martial arts have completely declined?”

“Traditional martial arts were tools for ordinary people to fight. They’re useless for cultivators,” Li Yi replied, recalling Tao Ge’s assessment from the danger zone.

“Exactly. Every technique, every movement in traditional martial arts was designed to maximize the physical advantages of ordinary humans. Once the practitioner becomes a cultivator—evolved beyond ordinary—traditional martial arts become relics of the past, destined for obsolescence.”

“I became national martial arts champion at twenty, mastering Xingyi, Tongbi, Bagua, Taiji—you name it. I thought I could synthesize the strengths of all styles and create a martial art tailored for cultivators. But the more I cultivated, the more my body evolved, the more I realized how useless traditional martial arts were.”

As he spoke, Li Shudi’s eyes darkened with disappointment.

Clearly, he had wanted to find a path to revive and elevate traditional martial arts—but it seemed he had failed.

“So traditional martial arts have absolutely no value left?” Li Yi asked, frowning.

If that were true, then his killing art was a waste of time.

“Watch.”

Li Shudi said nothing. He moved his arms, swung them half a circle, and threw a punch. The air howled—powerful, brutal.

“Do you know what style that was?” he asked.

Li Yi shook his head. “I don’t know traditional martial arts.”

Li Shudi sighed. “That was Tongbi Quan. Tongbi Quan emphasizes extending reach and generating power through swinging the arms. Simply put—use your longer arms to strike farther, creating greater force and destruction than ordinary people.”

“But if you were a cultivator facing me, how would you respond?”

Li Yi answered without hesitation: “I’d just spit in your face.”

Li Shudi gave him a strange look. “Exactly. Cultivators have incredible reflexes—it’s all about speed and power. Tongbi Quan sacrifices rapid strikes. The extra power from swinging your arms is useless—you’re too slow. A cultivator’s nerves can react fast enough to dodge.”

“So this style only works for ordinary people against ordinary people—not for cultivators against cultivators. The same goes for all other traditional martial arts.”

“What if it’s done like this?” Li Yi said, suddenly moving. Both fists shot forward.

It was Tongbi Quan’s extended reach.

“Boom! Boom!”

Two sharp, explosive punches echoed across the training ground. Instructor Li Shudi, standing close, felt his eardrums vibrate.

Instantly, several cultivators turned to look.

They saw Li Yi’s fists strike—but the sound stunned them.

What kind of punch could make such a noise? Like thunder?

If that landed on a person, they’d be finished.

But Li Shudi stared at Li Yi’s fists, eyes wide with disbelief. “This… how is this possible? Your stance is wrong—you didn’t even swing your arms. Your power shouldn’t have flowed. Wait—this isn’t Tongbi Quan. You’ve layered your martial art onto the framework of Tongbi Quan.”

“Correct. I used my martial art as the foundation, wrapped it in the structure of traditional martial arts, stripped away the excess, and refined it. Instructor, since you’re a master of traditional martial arts, tell me—could this be used in real combat?”

“With a martial art like yours as a base, you don’t even need to train traditional styles—you’re already terrifying. It’s perfectly usable in combat. But your idea just gave me an insight.”

Li Shudi felt as if a new world had opened before him. A realization struck him—he grew excited. “If we truly use such a terrifying martial art as the foundation, and combine it with the structure of traditional martial arts—if we perfect it—wouldn’t this become a martial art designed for cultivators?”

“Li Yi.”

Suddenly, Li Shudi grabbed his shoulder, voice trembling with emotion. “I’ll teach you traditional martial arts. You take the strengths, discard the weaknesses, synthesize the best of all styles, and build your martial art into one suited for cultivators.”

“Instructor, before I even came here, I already had this idea—and I even named it,” Li Yi said. “I call it Killing Art.”

“Killing Art? Good. Excellent. Perfect name. Call it Killing Art.” At that moment, Li Shudi imagined countless traditional martial techniques flowing into Li Yi’s martial art.

Even if the perfected Killing Art was no longer traditional martial arts, so what? The world moves forward. If martial arts refuse to evolve, absorb strengths, and update themselves, they’ll be discarded as relics. Better to innovate boldly than cling to ruins.

Li Shudi, a man caught between two eras, carried the burden of preserving and reviving traditional martial arts. He couldn’t bear to see the art he’d spent his life practicing forgotten.

He longed for this culture to be passed on.

And in this new recruit, Li Yi, the instructor saw hope—and opportunity.

“Come. I’ll take you to the indoor training hall. Starting today, I’ll teach you every traditional martial art. You’ll learn every technique in the shortest time possible, and I’ll help you strip away the excess and perfect the Killing Art.” Li Shudi couldn’t wait—he grabbed Li Yi’s arm and pulled him away.

Nothing mattered more now.

“Alright,” Li Yi said without hesitation.

But as they took only a few steps, a voice suddenly called out behind them.

“Wait, Instructor, where are you going?”

Lu Yue grinned, striding forward, eyes fixed on Li Yi—as if seeing him anew.

“Lu Yue, I don’t have time for your nonsense. Don’t stir up trouble, or I’ll revoke your training privileges,” Li Shudi snapped.

Lu Yue spoke seriously. “Instructor, you misunderstand me. I’m not causing trouble—I just want to know how Li Yi produced that sound. Li Yi, I’m starting to believe you. Your punch really is unusual. Can we talk about it?”

“I don’t have time now. Later,” Li Yi refused immediately.

“Just a quick chat—it won’t take long. If your punch is truly as powerful as you claim, I’ll be thrilled,” Lu Yue stepped forward, blocking their path.

Instructor Li Shudi barked again: “Lu Yue, you’ve gone too far today. Get out of the way.”

Lu Yue didn’t move. His gaze stayed locked on Li Yi.

Li Yi frowned. “I have no grudge against you. You’re not my enemy. I won’t use my punch on you—it’d be messy. And I’m going to train. I won’t waste time on pointless exchanges. I hope you understand. Don’t bother me.”

Lu Yue grinned. “Don’t worry—I won’t blame you if something happens. I’ve broken countless limbs in sparring. They lost because they were weaker. They resented it, but I welcomed their challenges. Your punch just caught my interest. If you won’t spar with me today, I won’t let you leave.”

Clearly, Li Yi was now targeted.

“I was going to let you go. Since you want a beating, don’t blame me if I go too hard.”

Li Yi said nothing. He lowered his stance, assumed an unusual fighting posture, and his eyes glowed faintly—murderous intent surged.

Hm?

Lu Yue’s grin vanished. His hair stood on end. For a moment, he felt like a beast had locked onto him.

“Ready?” Li Yi’s voice was icy.

“Come,” Lu Yue braced himself and shouted.

But the moment his words ended—

Instantly—

The ground beneath Li Yi cracked violently. He shot forward like a bullet, his speed exceeding the comprehension of even Spirit Medium cultivators.

“Is this guy trying to kill me?”

Lu Yue’s pupils shrank. Fear surged. Instinctively, he crossed his arms in defense.

Block this burst—then counter.

That was Lu Yue’s thought.

But the next instant, Li Yi’s tendons and bones surged. His spine, like a great dragon, pushed forward. All his power converged into a single point—and he punched.

“Boom!”

The punch exploded like thunder.

Lu Yue was tall, broad, muscular. His arms were like two heavy doors, trying to block the attack.

But Li Yi’s punch was terrifying—twisted into a single, piercing force capable of piercing through flesh.

Yet Li Yi had no intention of killing Lu Yue. His fist struck Lu Yue’s raised arms.

Lu Yue’s massive body stiffened. Li Yi stopped before him.

Drip. Drip.

Blood dripped steadily, then flowed faster, unstoppable.

All nearby cultivators, including Instructor Li Shudi, stared in shock.

“Could a punch really do that?”

That thought filled every mind.

Li Yi’s fist had pierced through Lu Yue’s arms and sunk deep into his chest, leaving a terrifying imprint. And inexplicably, no other part of Lu Yue’s body was injured—as if all the force had been concentrated into one point, with zero leakage.

Lu Yue’s eyes widened. Agony jolted him into clarity.

“You lost. If I’d pushed further, I’d have punched straight through your body and killed you,” Li Yi said calmly, then slowly withdrew his bloody fist.

The moment his fist pulled back, Lu Yue’s arms collapsed uselessly. Others saw his arms deeply sunken—bones shattered, unable to lift. His chest bled continuously, a gaping hole left behind—just as Li Yi said: one more inch, and his chest would have been pierced clean through.

Fortunately, Li Yi held back. Lu Yue was gravely injured—but not dead.

Even so, Lu Yue couldn’t believe it.

One punch.

Just one punch—and he lost?

But looking at his wounds—

He had to admit: he didn’t deserve to win. One more punch, and he’d be dead.

"Whoa!"

Suddenly, his injuries erupted; Lu Yue spat out a mouthful of blood, then his towering frame instantly lost all strength and slowly slumped to the ground.

He gasped for breath, wanting to speak, but found his chest searing with pain.

"Quick, take Lu Yue to the medical room!" At this moment, Instructor Li Shudi snapped to attention and shouted urgently.

Nearby medical staff rushed over with a stretcher.

Injuries during training were common, so medical personnel were always on standby nearby.

"Li Yi, I lost."

Lu Yue, breathing heavily and enduring the pain, said: "Can you tell me what style of fist this is?"

"Combat Art," Li Yi looked at him calmly. "I told you my fists are heavy, unsuitable for sparring—you refused to believe me. Now you’ll be lying in the hospital for at least ten days."

"Art? So that’s it. I was a frog at the bottom of a well, arrogantly overestimating myself."

Lu Yue’s face was pale, yet he still forced out a faint smile.