Chapter 8: On Licking People, Lin Xiaohé Is a Professional!

“Director, this young man wishes to learn martial arts.”

Jiang Ye led the brother and sister through the outer courtyard to the edge of the inner courtyard’s training ground.

Liu Qingshi, his back to them, was correcting a disciple’s posture for the Mountain-Crushing Fist; at the sound, he slowly turned around.

The disciples practicing in the courtyard glanced over casually and immediately returned their attention.

They had long grown accustomed to scenes like this.

“What are your names?”

Liu Qingshi’s gaze swept over the siblings; his tone was flat, revealing no emotion, yet carrying an undeniable authority that forbade negligence.

“I… I…”

The younger brother, being the first to encounter a martial artist of Liu Qingshi’s bearing, froze.

Under that steady, mountain-like gaze, his face paled, his throat tightened as if choked, and he stammered, unable to form a complete sentence.

Still, the sister steadied her nerves, stepped forward half a pace, bowed slightly, and answered clearly despite her tension: “Director, I’m Hu Li, and this is my brother, Hu Tian.”

“Hu…”

Liu Qingshi mused: “Are you from Hu Family Village outside the city?”

Hu Li’s eyes lit up; she nodded eagerly: “Yes, Director, we’re from Hu Family Village.”

Having confirmed their origins, Liu Qingshi gave a slight nod, his gaze returning to Hu Tian’s anxious face, and said gravely:

“If you wish to cultivate martial arts, the first step is bone inspection—to determine whether you possess the foundational aptitude.”

His voice was low, yet each word rang clear, carrying the weight of unshakable protocol.

“If your bones are truly unworthy, I will not take your money—it would only waste your future.”

He showed no impatience at Hu Tian’s hesitation, instead stepping forward two paces and extending his hands—broad-jointed, thickly calloused.

“Relax. Don’t tense up.”

Liu Qingshi’s voice was deep, radiating a calm that naturally inspired trust.

He swiftly pressed and pinched key bones—shoulder blades, spine, arms—his movements crisp and efficient.

Hu Tian’s body stiffened, beads of sweat breaking on his forehead; he nearly cried out in pain.

But seeing Hu Li subtly shake her head, he clenched his teeth and stayed motionless.

Hu Li, standing nearby, clenched her fists tightly, her nails digging into her palms, eyes fixed unblinkingly on Liu Qingshi’s expression.

Jiang Ye stood quietly at a distance, gaze lowered, as if merely fulfilling his duty to guide, utterly indifferent to what transpired.

Yet his peripheral vision captured every subtle motion of Liu Qingshi’s hands—and Hu Tian’s involuntary physical reactions under pressure.

“This boy… could his bones be good?”

Jiang Ye’s heart stirred slightly.

He had glimpsed a flicker of hidden delight on Liu Qingshi’s stern face.

Moments later, Liu Qingshi released his grip, but a rare hesitation surfaced on his brow.

He did not pronounce judgment immediately; instead, he squatted, firmly cradling Hu Tian’s knees and ankles, probing again with varying pressure—as if verifying something.

Long moments passed before he slowly stood upright, silent, his gaze sweeping back and forth between the anxious siblings.

Hu Li’s heart pounded as if trying to burst from her chest; her voice trembled uncontrollably: “Director… my brother…?”

Liu Qingshi glanced at her, then at Hu Tian—pale-faced, eyes filled with fear and hope—and smiled faintly:

“Superior bone structure.”

Those four words fell like thunder.

Hu Li’s eyes widened in disbelief; she could hardly trust her ears.

Hu Tian shot his head up, his pallor replaced by a flush of ecstatic joy, lips trembling, speechless.

“Director… you mean… my brother can… can learn martial arts? Is that right?”

Hu Li forced down the surge threatening to explode from her chest; her voice still shook as she carefully confirmed again.

“Mm.” Liu Qingshi nodded, his eyes holding a touch of satisfaction. “His aptitude is indeed excellent.”

“Sister, I… I can learn martial arts! I really can learn martial arts!!!”

Hu Tian finally processed it; his pent-up excitement erupted like a volcano. He leapt up, gripping his sister’s arm, eyes instantly reddening.

“Superior bone structure? This kid has superior bone structure!”

“In our martial academy, only Yi Yi Senior Sister and Zhang Xu Senior Brother have superior bone structure.”

“That means if he starts training, he’ll surely reach Dark Force.”

“Is our academy about to produce another genius?”

The inner disciples’ gazes snapped toward him—admiration, shock, envy, curiosity—all interwoven.

In the path of martial arts, bone structure and comprehension are paramount.

Comprehension determines a martialist’s ceiling; bone structure guarantees the floor.

One with superior bone structure, given sufficient resources and guidance and spared misfortune, is all but certain to reach Dark Force—and has a strong chance of advancing even to the higher Transformation Force realm.

Even several core disciples of the inner courtyard turned their attention toward him.

“Superior bone structure.”

Su Yan’s beautiful eyes flickered with calculation; she swiftly assessed: “Observe first—see if this boy is worth investing in.”

For a girl of her wealth and status, cultivating potential talent for her family’s network was part of her duty.

“Hmph. A country bumpkin with such luck?”

Zhang Xu watched Hu Tian’s ecstatic face with a dark gaze; a shadow of malice flickered in his eyes. “Superior bone structure… fine material. Offer some sweeteners, and he might be turned into a loyal hound.”

Like Su Yan, he came from a wealthy family—but his thoughts were far more naked.

“Another genius in the academy? Let’s see how far he’ll go.”

Zhao Gang’s expression remained as simple and steady as ever; his heart stirred little.

As a senior of the academy, he’d seen many geniuses.

Few, however, ever truly rose.

Liu Yiyi’s reaction was coldest; her frost-like eyes glanced once, then turned away.

“In martial arts, bone structure is merely the key to the door.”

Liu Qingshi looked at Hu Tian’s beaming face, his voice returning to its usual steadiness, and poured cold water: “What truly determines how far one goes is character and perseverance. If you slack off, cannot endure hardship, even superior bone structure is merely squandered—never will you amount to anything.”

His words rang like a morning bell in Hu Tian’s ears.

His joy faltered slightly, then hardened into resolve; he nodded firmly: “I shall remember your teachings, Director!”

Hu Li quickly suppressed her excitement, drew a deep breath, and solemnly offered the worn, faded money pouch with both hands.

“Director, this is our tuition.”

Liu Qingshi took the light yet weighty pouch, did not weigh it, merely opened it to glimpse the few silver coins inside.

He took a small portion, then returned the pouch, saying gravely: “I’ll take one month’s tuition now. If you master the fist form and break through to Bright Force within a month, your tuition after that is waived.”

For disciples of superior aptitude, the academy had its own rules of valuing talent and encouraging effort.

"Yes, Director! I will train hard and never let you down!"

Hu Tian drew a deep breath, channeled his overwhelming excitement into heavy resolve, and bowed deeply.

“Go.” Liu Qingshi gave a slight nod and turned toward the outer courtyard. “Before you master the fist form, you must strengthen your foundation here. Today, I’ll teach you the essentials of Mountain-Crushing Fist.”

This was the customary first-day ritual for new disciples—personally guided by him to show importance.

Hu Li hurriedly pulled her brother along, her face alight with uncontainable excitement and hope.

Jiang Ye followed calmly behind, his gaze passing calmly over Hu Tian’s trembling, excited back—his eyes utterly still.

Superior bone structure.

Indeed a pleasant surprise for the academy—a fine seedling found.

But for Jiang Ye…

No matter how superior the bone structure, before his transcendent comprehension, it was but fireflies beside the moon—dim, insignificant.

Hu Tian’s arrival stirred the outer courtyard like a boulder dropped into water—ripples and hidden currents surged instantly.

Dozens of eyes, visible or hidden, clung to Hu Tian like physical weights—admiration, envy, resentment, bitterness, sourness—all tangled on young faces.

After all, over seventy percent of the outer courtyard disciples would leave in two months, failing to “master the fist form,” their martial dreams shattered.

And Hu Tian, with superior bone structure, seemed already to have drawn an invisible divide between himself and them from the moment he began training.

Under the same roof, breathing the same air, enduring the same sun and wind—yet destined for utterly divergent futures.

Who could truly accept such disparity with calm?

Some sighed. Some cursed. Some gritted their teeth. Others… began to lick.

Among them, the fastest, the most conspicuous, was Lin Xiaohé.

After Liu Qingshi had demonstrated the Mountain-Crushing Fist essentials a few times, he departed.

Lin Xiaohé darted over like a nimble sparrow, landing beside Hu Tian.

“Hu Senior Brother, you’re so impressive!”

Her voice was bright, dripping with unhidden admiration, her eyes smiling as she gazed up at Hu Tian, still awkward and unsure.

“The Director only showed you two or three times, and already your stance looks perfect—no wonder you have superior bone structure!”

Her words were neither loud nor soft—just loud enough for nearby listeners to hear clearly; even Jiang Ye, near the corridor, caught every word.

“This little girl… is interesting.”

Jiang Ye shook his head slightly, a glint of icy mockery flashing in his eyes.