Chapter 55: 54 Deduction

54 Deduction

Tang Zhao was startled and said, "Ant Moving Mountain Palm? Isn't that trash..."

Ping Jiangqiu waved his hand and said, "If it isn't trash, what is it? Moving a mountain means moving a mountain; what is 'Ant Moving Mountain'? An ant can move a clod of dirt, but can it move a damn mountain? You and I are the leaders of all living things; only humans can move mountains. Go, demonstrate it again, and I will dismantle and refine it for you."

When he said this, his spine was straight; his short, fat, and round figure could not hide his astonishing bearing, and his words allowed for no questioning.

Previously, when Tang Zhao practiced martial arts, Ping Jiangqiu would watch and occasionally offer a few pointers that would make Tang Zhao suddenly enlightened, but he never directly changed the moves. Tang Zhao had no idea he was so disdainful of this palm technique, and it seemed he had formed a comprehensive opinion during those few days of watching.

Next, Tang Zhao practiced the palm technique again, and Ping Jiangqiu corrected him move by move.

It was just that this kind of change was not merely altering the moves or adjusting the footwork; it was adding the circulation of Inner Energy.

Originally, the Ant Moving Mountain Palm only had footwork, palm techniques, force application, and breathing coordination. Ping Jiangqiu added the circulation of Inner Energy, which fit the palm technique seamlessly, turning it from a purely external martial art into a profound skill that cultivated both internal and external.

But with such a change, the difficulty soared. For a beginner like Tang Zhao, it was as hard as ascending to heaven to attend to both internal and external simultaneously.

Tang Zhao's comprehension was very strong. The time he truly spent learning this palm technique, added to the time in the Time Jar, was about ten days. Although it was longer than the five days he had shown, he was still worthy of being called a genius. Yet, this new palm technique was truly difficult to get the hang of; every move was hard to perform smoothly.

After failing time and again, Ping Jiangqiu became annoyed and said, "I thought you looked smart, but are you a straw bag? You have learned internal arts, and you have practiced external arts; why can't you combine them? Do you not understand how to draw inferences from one instance? Did you waste your schooling?"

Tang Zhao was not afraid of his scolding. Could he scold better than Chen Zong? Back when he was in school, he had been sarcastically mocked by Chen Zong in two languages so many times that he was long since numb to it. He calmly explained, "I have always only practiced external arts; I have never learned internal arts."

Ping Jiangqiu asked suspiciously, "Never learned internal arts? That's impossible, you have Internal Energy in your body, right? You already have some foundation, and you even know how to circulate Internal Energy to regulate your breath and restore your energy."

Tang Zhao did not expect that the tiny bit of power he had absorbed would be called "having a foundation," so he said, "I really haven't learned it. It's just that someone passed me a mantra and then transferred a strand of Qi into me, so I just circulate it like that; it doesn't count as proper internal arts."

Ping Jiangqiu asked curiously, "Is that so? You have such an encounter? That makes sense. It seems the lesson on internal arts also needs to be made up. How about this, aren't you in a hurry to go out and kill one to warn a hundred? Learn the palm technique first; we'll learn internal practice next time. Anyway, this bit of Internal Energy is enough for now. We will grind it out bit by bit; today, we are single-minded—we are locked in."

He did what he said, dismantling and breaking down this profound skill to teach Tang Zhao, practicing each move until it was perfect. Not to mention how much energy it cost, the time jars were opened one after another as if they were free.

There was no sun or moon in the jar, and one could not tell morning from night. Anyway, Ping Jiangqiu had a rich collection and no worries about logistics; when hungry, he ate, and when tired, he slept. He turned a deaf ear to matters outside the jar, his whole heart and mind set on studying the palm technique.

This state was very much like madness, forcing Tang Zhao to be physically and mentally exhausted, nearly collapsing toward the end, wanting to crawl out of the jar several times to catch his breath. He had been saddened by the pressure of life and death at night, but at this moment, he was forced to the point of extreme pain. Once, when he was stuck on a detail and could not make any progress, he saw the deep blue lake water and actually wanted to dive into it.

At this time, he admired Ping Jiangqiu very much. The longer he stayed in the jar, the more he could perceive that this seemingly vast world inside the jar actually had boundaries. The boundless lake was half real and half illusory; if one took a small boat to cross the lake to the distance, one would eventually hit a tangible boundary. Later on, he even felt invisible high walls on all sides pressing in on him, feeling nauseated and unable to breathe. If he felt so miserable while having things to do, he wondered how Ping Jiangqiu endured the long, endless loneliness in the jar?

Then, he secretly warned himself—he was thinking too much! It was clearly he himself who needed to practice, yet he was not as focused as Ping Jiangqiu. After this Sword Hero entered the state of cultivation, he was single-minded, focusing entirely on studying the palm technique, dragging him forward step by step.

To be a Sword Hero, one should naturally have such focus and courage.

While gritting his teeth and practicing hard, Tang Zhao could not help but think of his Glasses. If he was not mistaken, what they were doing was the same as the result of the fairy fishing gold and silver techniques out of the water.

From this, one could see how powerful the fairy was; just by throwing a technique into the water, the results obtained would require a Sword Hero to spend a vast amount of time day and night to deduce in reality.

It just cost eyeglass lenses.

After many days of toil, a brand-new set of palm techniques was born.

This set of palm techniques was even different from Ping Jiangqiu's initial ideas. Constantly adding new ideas while grinding was one of the reasons why the time consumption became longer and longer. The palm technique finally forged through a thousand hammers and a hundred refinements might look not much different from the original at first glance, but the core was completely different—internal and external fused, naturally formed, with almost no flaws.

It could truly be considered a martial arts masterpiece.

The sky was clear, the water was blue, and the cool breeze was blowing.

Tang Zhao stood by the lake, performing the eighteen palm techniques one by one. The palm shadows stretched, the force surged, and wherever it reached, the earth and stones cracked, as if a mountain were collapsing.

The young man's clothes fluttered, as if he were about to fly in the wind; his brows were relaxed, and his appearance was like jade.

After the eighteen moves were finished, he stood firm in place at the final closing move, as steady as Mount Tai.

The two looked at each other, silent at first, then cheered in unison. Tang Zhao sat back, and Ping Jiangqiu did seven or eight somersaults on the spot.

"Mission—accomplished!"

The cheers did not disturb any living creatures; at most, Ping Jiangqiu's round body crushed many gravels, pressing them down again to become soil.

Tang Zhao lay on the ground and said excitedly, "Ping Xiansheng, how powerful do you think this technique of mine is? Can I be a Knight-Errant?"

Ping Jiangqiu spat and said, "You unambitious boy, what is a Knight-Errant? Aren't you aiming to become a Sword Guest? As for the palm technique, it's just for use in the beginning. Anyway, with this palm technique, the moves will not be your weakness. Those with power comparable to yours will definitely not be your match; those a notch stronger than you may not necessarily be able to beat you. When encountering those with poor moves but significantly stronger power, you can also maneuver and escape. Is it powerful or not?"

Tang Zhao said "Hmm..." and felt it was not very powerful.

Ping Jiangqiu got angry at his appearance and said, "Do you think there are many people in the world with strong moves? Let's put it this way: just those people in the Black Spider Villa, there are only those with poor moves and those with especially poor moves. What Poison Sand Palm, what Entangling Silk Hand, what profound skill Suspended Silk Force—I spit on them, none of them are worth looking at. As long as you are careful about poison, with your strength, you will sweep through everyone under thirty, except for the Manor Master. When I make up the lesson on Internal Energy for you, you will be invincible, fighting eighty-year-olds and eight-year-olds alike."

Tang Zhao said "Oh" and asked curiously, "How do you know their moves are good or bad?"

Ping Jiangqiu said, "How many years has this old man been in the villa? I am more familiar with the Black Spider Villa than that little girl Manor Master of theirs. By the way, I said under thirty does not include her. Do not provoke her."

Tang Zhao said, "Why would I provoke her? By the way, you said I should also be careful of poison. Since you are so familiar with the villa, do you have the antidote for the Black Spider? I'll keep it just in case."

Ping Jiangqiu spread his hands, and a pile of jars fell from the sky with a clatter, full and like a small mountain.

"There are many types; find what you need yourself."

Coming out of the jar, it was midnight.

Although he had gone through long torment and could not even tell how many days he had stayed, Tang Zhao was in high spirits.

Ping Jiangqiu had just taken out one last jar of time, specifically to let him catch up on sleep.

Having slept for six hours, packed the antidote, and taken his Art Tool, he had made full preparations.

Following the candle flame that had not yet gone out, Tang Zhao unfolded the portrait; the person in the painting was an ordinary-looking youth. Tang Zhao had no impression of him at all, could not call his name, and at most had crossed paths with him once or twice on the practice field. Naturally, there was no gratitude or grudge.

Yet he wanted to kill him.

Although someone had instructed him, it was also because Tang Zhao himself had never shown a side that was not to be bullied.

This Grape Courtyard had its own set of rules; the weak were not necessarily beaten, which was also because the strong did not want to beat you today.

Tang Zhao had not been sought out these days because of Xiao Pei's protection on the first day. Once they forgot Xiao Pei's prestige from back then, Tang Zhao himself had no prestige to speak of.

Tang Zhao did not like this set of rules, especially when applied to himself.

Therefore, he had to pull the firewood from under the cauldron and solve the problem once and for all.

The night was very dark and very silent; everyone was asleep, but Tang Zhao was ready to go.

There were still three hours until dawn; this time had to be well utilized.

Kill one to warn a hundred.