Chapter 7: When Strength Is Held, Desire Arises Naturally!

The next morning.

The sky had not yet fully brightened; the martial arts school still slept in a quiet, bluish-gray stillness.

Jiang Ye had already risen, spirited and alert, and pushed open the narrow door of the gatehouse.

The morning breeze, sharp and fresh, struck his face; he drew a deep breath.

The icy air surged into his lungs, not bringing cold, but stirring his blood and qi slightly, granting him an unprecedented sense of clarity.

After last night’s breakthrough into Ming Jin, his aged body had sprouted new life like an old tree putting forth buds.

Jiang Ye looked down at himself.

Hmm, even his manhood had returned!

“But at my age, even if my vigor is restored, there’s little use for it…”

As Jiang Ye pondered, a face suddenly flashed into his mind, without warning.

Cold as snow, features like a painted scroll, especially those eyes as pure as ice lotuses… it was Liu Yiyi, who had been puzzled by his changed complexion the night before after her bath.

The image came abruptly, with no reason.

“What am I thinking…?”

Jiang Ye’s aged face flushed, unusually red.

He quickly took several deep breaths of the cold morning air; the biting chill, like ice water poured over his head, finally quelled the chaotic thoughts in his mind.

When his composure steadied slightly, Jiang Ye shook his head, both resigned and strangely enlightened.

“Indeed, when one possesses strength, desire naturally arises…”

He recalled a crude saying he’d heard somewhere; now, savoring it, it felt remarkably apt, even carrying a touch of the martial Dao’s mystery.

When a man is in despair, he only seeks to survive; once fed and warm, distractions multiply.

With blood and qi full, tendons and bones revived, the long-dormant instincts stirred awake—and grew… less obedient.

Fortunately, seventy years of wind and rain had hardened his heart, and his newfound clarity from glimpsing the martial Dao allowed him to quickly suppress this sudden surge of emotion.

“The sky is still early; better to practice a little than dwell on idle thoughts.”

His gaze sharpened; he abandoned his inner turmoil.

The morning chill was at its peak—perfect for loosening tendons and consolidating his realm.

Right there on the open ground before the gate, he slowly assumed the starting posture of the Five Animal Fist.

Tiger crouches, deer sprints, bear leans, ape climbs, bird soars!

The true intent of the five forms flowed through his mind; the newly born Ming Jin moved slowly through his expanded meridians, nurturing the passageways struck last night and solidifying his fledgling foundation.

Movements slow and steady, each breath harmonized faintly with the crisp morning air around him.

After roughly one incense stick’s time…

Jiang Ye slowly ended his stance, arms hanging naturally, his qi smooth and balanced, only a fine sheen of warm sweat on his forehead.

His spirit stirred slightly; he glanced at the system panel.

Mastered Wu Gong: Five Animal Fist 【Minor Mastery, 57/500】

“Hmm, progress is good. With proper nourishment, I should break through to An Jin soon.”

A flicker of satisfaction passed through Jiang Ye’s eyes.

The sky had brightened; it was time to return to his post as gatekeeper, and let his body rest.

Soon, footsteps approached from afar, hurried and urgent.

To Jiang Ye’s surprise, the first to arrive at the school today was not Shi Lei, the diligent, almost rigid disciple of old, but a tall, slender outer-court disciple.

The Sun disciple glanced at Jiang Ye sitting by the gate, his gaze cold and dismissive, showing no intention to greet him, and walked straight past into the main gate without pausing.

Time passed second by second; the courtyard gradually filled with the shouts and footsteps of young disciples.

Even Lin Xiaohé had arrived; she kept her head down, her steps quicker than usual, the bruises on her face slightly faded.

Jiang Ye’s gaze lingered for an instant on her hurried back, then drifted away indifferently.

“It seems Shi Lei must have run into trouble.”

Yet he had no intention of asking; after all, he was merely an observer.

Only deep in those worldly-weary eyes did a flicker of near-numb understanding pass.

At noon, he still went punctually to the small kitchen.

Huang Xiyu’s expression today seemed slightly more relaxed than yesterday; she no longer made things difficult for Jiang Ye, and her ladling motions were faster.

When she saw his robust complexion, her beautiful eyes flickered with surprise: “Old Jiang, is this tonic really that effective?”

She occasionally drank a bowl of this blood-enriching decoction herself, but had never felt such results.

“Thank you, Lady.”

Jiang Ye took the decoction, bowing slightly: “Perhaps this old man’s body was too weak, severely depleted—once the tonic enters, it feels especially potent.”

Hearing this, Huang Xiyu nodded thoughtfully, accepting it without suspicion.

Gulp…

Jiang Ye picked up the bowl, walked to his usual spot, turned his back, and drank it down in small, swift sips.

The decoction entered his belly, warming and spreading.

He clearly felt today’s potion was easier to absorb than yesterday’s, subtly resonating with his newly born Ming Jin, enhancing its nourishing efficiency.

This was likely a benefit from his body’s improved function after the breakthrough.

Setting down the empty bowl, he thanked Huang Xiyu again, then exited the kitchen at his unhurried pace.

Passing through the outer courtyard, the disciples’ murmurs—filled with pity, speculation, even a hint of schadenfreude—reached his eyes and ears clearly:

“Why didn’t Shi Lei come today?”

“I heard Shi Lei tried to be a hero and escort Lin Shimei home last night…”

“Probably clashed with the Wild Wolves Gang.”

“Tsk tsk, those Wild Wolves Gang members hit hard…”

“Hope he didn’t get badly hurt.”

“He trained so hard—he was almost entering the martial arts door. If he gets injured now…”

“That would be such a waste.”

“So they say—beauty brings disaster…”

Jiang Ye’s gaze casually swept over one of the gossip centers—Lin Xiaohé.

Yet the girl was calmly holding her fist posture, focused and serene, as if all the whispered gossip around her meant nothing to her.

The world is cold, hearts as thin as paper.

Shi Lei stood up for her, now vanished, fate unknown—and yet she could continue practicing with such “calmness,” as if nothing had happened.

This callousness did not surprise Jiang Ye; he felt only the indifference of long-seeing eyes.

A cold sneer passed through Jiang Ye’s heart, but his face showed no change; he walked straight through the outer courtyard.

He had planned to practice the Five Animal Fist while the tonic still worked, but a brother and sister arrived wanting to learn martial arts.

“Old man, excuse us. My younger brother wishes to become your master’s disciple—could you please introduce us to the School Master?”

The elder sister spoke first.

She stood tall, about twenty years old, wearing a plain, faded but immaculately clean long skirt.

Though her attire was humble, her every gesture carried a sharpness and resilience uncommon in village girls—someone who had weathered storms but was not broken.

Behind her, her younger brother appeared far more nervous, his clear face marked by obvious anxiety.

“This boy is probably sixteen or seventeen.”

Jiang Ye’s sharp gaze assessed the youth.

Seeing Jiang Ye’s eyes constantly scanning, the sister seemed to understand; from her bosom, she carefully pulled out a worn, faded money pouch and offered it with both hands, her voice softer now but each word clear:

“Old man, we have money for tuition.”

Jiang Ye’s gaze lingered a moment on the pouch, then flickered over the tense faces of the siblings, before slowly nodding, his tone still flat:

“Come in. I’ll take you to the School Master. Whether you stay…” he glanced at the boy with his head bowed, “depends on whether your brother has the natural aptitude for martial arts.”

Saying this, he turned and signaled for the siblings to follow.