Chapter Twenty-Eight: The Shattering Mountain Palm

The steward smiled. “Since it’s the Mountain-Crushing Palm with Every Step, of course it couldn’t lack a corresponding footwork.”

“Strictly speaking, the Six Directions Step within a Foot is not truly a martial technique, but rather a method for mobilizing one’s vital energies. Within three steps, one can gather one’s momentum to its peak. Watch as I demonstrate.”

As he spoke, he suddenly stepped forward.

With just three simple steps, the steward’s aura soared to several times its previous intensity, as if a fierce tiger had descended the mountain, all his strength focused in his lower body.

Though he did not strike with his palm, the wind around began to shriek and whistle.

Silently, the master stood before his disciple, who felt as though a ferocious beast had fixed its gaze upon him. Instinctively, terror flashed in his eyes and he retreated.

“I’d intended to wait until you’d mastered the palm technique before teaching you this, but since you’ve asked, it won’t hurt to explain the footwork now.” The steward withdrew his aura and began to explain the Six Directions Step within a Foot.

Although Lin Ze was not seeing through the disciple’s eyes, he could still hear the rapid, pounding heartbeat of the young man beside him—evidence enough of how excited Wang Yao was now.

The question that had troubled him for years turned out to have such a simple answer: the technique had been incomplete all along.

The true name of this martial art should have been: “One Step, Mountain-Crushing Palm.”

Only when the two were combined could their full power be unleashed.

Compared to lessons in the classroom, this sort of one-on-one teaching was far more detailed. Wang Yao listened with rapt attention, utterly absorbed, forgetting the passage of time.

“Did you get it all?” The steward picked up his teacup and took a sip.

“I did.” The burly disciple bowed deeply, then asked a few more questions. Only after receiving answers did he reluctantly leave the courtyard.

Lin Ze heard the faint sound of footsteps nearby.

He glanced helplessly at Wang Yao, who was still struggling to comprehend the footwork, and sighed.

In the next instant, three Daoist swords were simultaneously pressed to the young man’s neck.

A harsh voice barked, “Stand up!”

Cold sweat broke out on Wang Yao’s forehead as his mind reeled. Terrified, he tried to look back, but the icy blades at his throat forced him still.

“An outer sect disciple?” The patrolling cultivators sneered at his grey short coat.

“Who let you up here?”

Wang Yao’s face turned ashen—he barely dared to breathe. Stammering, he explained, “I… I came up here by accident.”

Before he could finish, the crowd suddenly called out in unison, “Steward Liu.”

A Foundation Establishment master approached unhurriedly, nodding as he stopped at the spot where Wang Yao had been kneeling, gazing thoughtfully at his own courtyard.

Withdrawing his gaze, he said coolly, “Stealing martial techniques. Send him to the Southern Hall and expel him from the sect.”

“Yes, sir!” the disciples answered, saluting as they hauled Wang Yao down the mountain.

Behind a distant tree, Yang Mu took a deep breath, his face conflicted.

He hesitated, jaw clenched, but his legs moved toward the scene of their own accord.

At that moment, a large hand pressed down on his shoulder.

Zhao Jing’s grim voice came from behind. “Last time you snuck up the back mountain, I let you off, hoping you would change your ways.”

“I never thought you’d dare bring another disciple up here!”

“Have you no regard for the rules of Huayang Peak, or any respect for me as your master?”

Before Yang Mu could reply, he was already hoisted roughly off the ground. “Since that’s how it is, don’t blame me for punishing you. Even if your uncle came in person, the rules of East Peak Sect must be upheld!”

Behind the two, Lin Ze leaned, arms folded, against a large tree.

If he hadn’t witnessed this scene himself, he might have forgotten: according to what he’d told Yang Mu, that fellow should have been in Twin Moon Cave by now.

So he’d been caught.

Not surprising, really.

Originally, after Yang Mu had the notion to leave East Peak Sect, he left that very night without hesitation. Now, after hearing Lin Ze’s advice, he harbored secrets in his heart, and his actions naturally changed—no wonder an old fox like Zhao Jing noticed.

Still, Lin Ze did not regret it.

If he hadn’t spoken, Yang Mu would never have increased his trust, and no matter what opportunities he gained, he would not have been able to draw them out.

Now that he knew in advance, there was still a chance to make amends.

That copy of “The Innate Method” had long been as good as his; how could he let Zhao Jing ruin things so easily?

He watched as Wang Yao was expelled from the sect, while Yang Mu was sentenced to a full year in seclusion.

Lin Ze opened his panel and terminated the simulation.

[Simulation ended]
[Settlement reward: Insufficient trust]

This was as expected. Never mind trust issues—Wang Yao hadn’t encountered even a hint of opportunity in the past few months.

Lin Ze opened his eyes.

Looking at the face before him, filled with courage, he suddenly smiled.

This Wang Yao was much more pleasing than the obsequious youth from the simulation.

Impulsive, perhaps, but not lacking in pride.

“There’s no problem—you’ve practiced your palm technique well.” He offered an unexpected word of encouragement.

With a low-grade martial art, even someone of poor talent would make some progress after years of diligent practice—one could hardly do worse.

At these words, Wang Yao’s heart sank, and he managed a bitter smile.

Even just for show, shouldn’t he at least let him demonstrate before making a conclusion?

He didn’t want Elder Lin to lose face because of him. Even if the other only offered a few casual pointers, he still had to pretend to have benefited greatly.

But now…

Who would believe it?

Sure enough, a young disciple nearby curled his lips.

“Since Elder Lin says your practice is excellent, there must be no problem. Why not give us a demonstration, junior brother?”

A complex emotion flashed in Wang Yao’s eyes. He knew his own limitations—if he really displayed his skills before so many people, he’d only make them laugh.

“What are you worried about?” Lin Ze suddenly asked.

“I… I’m not good enough.” Wang Yao’s head nearly touched the ground as he replied, ashamed.

Lin Ze was silent for a moment, then grabbed his hair and lifted his head. “Trying won’t cost you anything.”

You had the courage to kneel here and seek guidance—why not have the courage to show the results of years of effort? Even if it’s poor, it’s still the fruit of your tireless practice.

If you despise your own efforts, who else will value them?

Wang Yao stared blankly into his eyes. For some reason, a surge of courage welled up within him.

Those clear eyes seemed able to see through everything.

Calm and composed.

As if everything was within his grasp, giving others a strange sense of reassurance.

“All right.”

Wang Yao nodded firmly, then turned to glare at the provoking senior brother.

He raised his hand sharply.

Spiritual energy surged from his dantian through his limbs and bones. This was an action he had repeated countless times—he was intimately familiar with it and confident he would make no mistake.

“Lift your leg, step eight inches to the right, steady your breath and focus your spirit.”

Wang Yao instinctively followed the whispered guidance in his ear.

“Step out with force, gather your essence and energy.”

His movements grew smoother and smoother; he even felt the roar of spiritual energy within, like a long-caged beast finally breaking through its bars to see the light.

“Gaze at the six directions, master the space within a foot.”

Just three simple instructions.

A fierce glint appeared in Wang Yao’s eyes as he swung his palm, spiritual energy pouring forth like a raging river, as if thunder itself were crashing down.

A single step, a mountain shatters.

Between his five fingers, he could split mountains and rivers!