Chapter 43: Tree Brother, I

One match, two matches…

In the next half-hour, Lin Chen endured five more matches.

Each opponent was strong; though all were only at the Second Open Acupoint stage, their mastery of their arts was high—though they didn’t practice ranked techniques, their power was slightly weaker.

By the third match, Lin Chen had to rest fifteen minutes after each bout.

Perhaps due to Lin Chen’s winning streak, the first arena, once rarely watched, now drew many eyes.

Especially after the masked senior from Jingshui Martial Arts Hall lost on the third arena, even more martial artists shifted their attention here.

While resting, Lin Chen glanced at the battle on the third arena; the senior had just been defeated by a Sixth Open Acupoint martial artist who practiced Iron Crash Fist.

From the onlookers’ chatter, Lin Chen learned this Iron Crash Fist practitioner was thirty years old and had held the third arena’s champion title for two months.

Lin Chen understood: without a ranked technique, no one could claim the monthly champion title—the champion would always come from a martial arts hall.

The Jingshui Martial Arts Hall senior was already impressive, lasting ten strikes; the Ironblood Martial Arts Hall’s Iron Crash Fist was already perfected. Lin Chen guessed that even he couldn’t withstand a single punch.

It seemed winning those ten taels of silver wouldn’t be easy—these were all men who had pushed their techniques to the extreme, and his own mastery level was far from sufficient.

The martial garden’s rule: the twenty-fifth of each month is the champion match.

Only those who defeated ten opponents that month may challenge last month’s champion.

After her defeat, the Jingshui Martial Arts Hall senior left without lingering, wearing her mask and walking away; Lin Chen, having rested, returned to the first arena.

On the arena now, his opponent had already taken his place.

“This newcomer facing Qiao Yi? He’s doomed to lose!”

“Qiao Yi is known as the champion’s gatekeeper—only those who can beat him qualify to challenge the champion.”

“I’m curious—Qiao Yi also practices Clear Wind Palm. Same school as this one. Why is he stepping up now?”

Lin Chen heard every whisper below, his eyes piercing through his mask toward the young man before him.

From the man, he felt a thread of pressure—was this man also a disciple from Clear Wind Martial Arts Hall?

“Which cohort are you, junior?”

On the arena, Qiao Yi regarded Lin Chen, asking calmly.

He had left the martial arts hall seven years ago; he’d only stayed one year, for no reason other than poverty—he couldn’t afford to stay.

When he left, he hadn’t opened any acupoints. His fellow cohort members had all given up, but he refused. After a year of hardship, he finally opened his first acupoint.

Thereafter, by escorting caravans and serving as a bodyguard, he spent another year reaching Second Open Acupoint, spending fifty taels of silver.

At Second Open Acupoint, Qiao Yi abandoned the martial path—he knew well that with his finances, even if he persisted, his lifetime limit would be Fourth Open Acupoint.

Rather than waste more money on the martial path, he’d rather save to nurture his descendants.

The martial garden’s arena matches were one of his savings goals.

For five years, between escort duties, he trained Clear Wind Palm until he reached Minor Attainment.

Frustratingly, Minor Attainment still wasn’t enough—some rivals had already reached Perfect Attainment.

As for why he stepped up now, the reason was simple: he sensed a certain arrogance in this masked junior.

A martial artist’s pride needs no words—it reveals itself in every technique.

He didn’t understand: at only Second Open Acupoint, with Clear Wind Palm still at Proficient stage, what was there to be proud of?

If this were a new student achieving this in such a short time, it would be worthy of pride—but this junior couldn’t possibly be new.

New students who reach Proficient in such a short span are exceedingly rare; even if one existed, they’d be far ahead in cultivation level—they wouldn’t still be stuck at Second Open Acupoint.

“Please, senior, instruct me.”

Lin Chen gave no direct answer. Qiao Yi snorted:

“There’s a vast gap between Proficient and Minor Attainment. Since you want me to instruct you, I’ll show you a few things.”

Qiao Yi’s figure flashed—like a breeze sweeping past—he closed the distance instantly. His hands lifted slightly, palm striking outward with gentle grace, like a soft breeze brushing the face. Yet even this seemingly gentle palm sent Lin Chen’s robes flapping violently.

Lin Chen raised his hand to block—when a gale slammed into his face, forcing his eyes shut. In that split second, he felt a heavy blow to his chest and was flung off the arena, crashing to the ground.

Cough! Cough!

Lin Chen coughed lightly, rising from the ground. The palm strike left his chest aching; he rubbed it absently, then looked up at Qiao Yi on the arena.

This was the first time he’d lost a duel since embarking on the martial path.

In the martial hall, they only competed in strength—no sparring. After cultivating qi and opening acupoints, his sparring with Lu Yongfeng and the other two—he’d never lost, thanks to his mastery of Clear Wind Palm.

Is this the power of Minor Attainment Clear Wind Palm?

Lin Chen felt no discouragement or disappointment. The champions of the first few arenas were all those who had abandoned further cultivation advancement, focusing solely on perfecting their martial arts.

He’d only trained Clear Wind Palm for a few months. Losing to them wasn’t shameful.

But this defeat woke Lin Chen up. Lately, especially since opening his acupoints and experiencing smooth progress, a quiet pride had grown within him.

He hadn’t noticed it before—but this loss jolted him awake. He feared he’d quietly developed pride.

Even in the martial hall, watching Jiang Qing and other seniors open acupoints one after another, he hadn’t felt much disappointment—he had confidence: once he passed the early stage, he’d rise too.

He could wait on cultivation level; his technique mastery was ahead.

In the words of a famous quote from his past life: Though I’m surrounded by enemies, the advantage is mine.

The emergence of this thought proved his inner pride had already taken root—he simply hadn’t realized it.

This defeat jolted him awake.

The martial path isn’t confined to the martial hall. As Vice-Manager Kong said, the outside world doesn’t care how long you’ve trained—only strength matters. If you face a life-or-death duel, will your opponent tie one hand behind his back because you started years later?

This defeat came at the perfect time—it woke him up.

Lin Chen looked at Qiao Yi on the arena, his eyes filled with fierce combat intent. The pride had shattered—but in its place surged martial determination.

He would return to this arena.

Lin Chen didn’t linger by the arena. Like the Jingshui Martial Arts Hall senior, he left the martial garden directly and returned to his dormitory.

In the martial hall dormitory.

Lin Chen wasted no time—he began training Clear Wind Palm.

Though he’d lost badly, unable to block even two strikes, recalling Qiao Yi’s palm strike, he felt a sudden insight.

He couldn't yet articulate exactly what he had realized—but when his insight improved tonight, he would surely gain something.

…

Night fell.

Lin Chen stood in the courtyard, eyes closed, recalling the day’s arena battle.

“Ethereal as wind, formless, shapeless.”

Long after, Lin Chen whispered softly. These words were recorded in the instructor’s manual, but until today, he’d only understood them literally. Now, recalling Qiao Yi’s palm, he felt a stirring within.

Shhh!

Lin Chen struck a palm—wind flowed from it.

“Wrong! Qiao Yi’s palm didn’t just stir the air—it carried the unpredictability of a deer’s antler hanging on a tree. My own palm strikes are predictable.”

Clear Wind Palm is a ranked technique. Ranked techniques unleash power beyond one’s limits because, at Proficient stage, one can harness the air’s natural force.

Instructor Yu called it the power of heaven and earth. To Lin Chen, it was simply air current.

Lin Chen’s gaze fell on a water vat in the courtyard. His mind drifted to a scene from his past life: a celebrity practicing Tai Chi.

He walked to the vat, plunged his hands into the water, and began stirring. Soon, the flow changed with his hands.

“Using water flow as analogy for air flow: when I move my palm with the current, resistance is low. But if I reverse my palm against the flow, resistance surges instantly—the water I’d pulled along turns from aid to obstacle.”

Beneath the night sky, watching the swirling water, Lin Chen gained clarity.

The gap between Proficient and Minor Attainment in Clear Wind Palm lay here: when he struck, he stirred air currents that became his allies, greatly increasing his power—but the flaw was obvious: he couldn’t instantly change his technique.

Precisely, he couldn’t reverse direction against his own generated air flow. Any reversal caused a momentary lag—so to someone with higher Clear Wind Palm mastery, his palm’s trajectory was easily predicted.

“No—Qiao Yi didn’t reach formless, shapeless either. His palm seemed like a deer’s antler, but I still perceived it—only his speed was too fast for me to react.”

He withdrew his hand from the vat, closed his eyes again. What, truly, was “ethereal as wind”?

Suddenly,

A night breeze blew. The few remaining sparse leaves on the camphor tree rustled softly.

Lin Chen closed his eyes, listening to the wind. Then, with his right hand, he lightly slapped the camphor tree. A few leaves drifted down.

Pah!

The leaves landed before him. After his palm strike, the wind carried them forward.

Before their forward motion faded, Lin Chen struck again—his palm one chi away from the first strike. But these three leaves weren’t swept up—they collided between the two palm winds and fell to the ground.

“Feels wrong. Still missing something.”

Lin Chen opened his eyes, stared at the three leaves on the ground, frowned, then turned his gaze to the camphor tree before him.

“Tree brother, I’m sorry. One day, when I achieve something on the martial path, I’ll credit you with part of my success.”

Pah!

Another palm struck. The camphor tree trembled; more leaves fell.

…

…

Again and again, Lin Chen’s understanding of Clear Wind Palm deepened gradually.

【Clear Wind Palm: Proficient (2/10)】

…

PS: As of Monday’s reading stats, the editor says there’s a 30% chance we’ll make the Three Rivers list next week—depends on how bad the competition is. Sigh!

If we’re confirmed for Three Rivers by afternoon, I’ll add an extra chapter. If not, I’ll still add an extra chapter. Damn it, I’m adding one anyway!

(End of chapter)