Volume One: First Signs of Brilliance Chapter Forty: The Martial Artists’ Association

After that, Wang Jue continued to appear focused on his cultivation, but secretly, whenever he saw a senior brother in the martial arts school accompanied by a transparent bubble, he would hurry over to pick it up. At the same time, Wang Jue discovered a pattern in how experience points dropped. It turned out that only those who were actively cultivating would drop experience—someone at the fifth stage of body training would drop a five-point transparent bubble once every hour, while someone at the sixth stage would drop a six-point bubble.

As for why Zhao Qingming, who was a level above martial artists, never dropped any experience bubbles, Wang Jue couldn’t quite figure it out, but he speculated that the issue must lie with Zhao Qingming himself. It was like a university student doing elementary school math problems: there was no need to think, the answer came instantly. For the elementary student, however, it required constant calculation and thought to finally arrive at the solution. The former expended almost no mental effort, while the latter probably lost a great many brain cells in the process. Wang Jue wasn’t sure his guess was correct, but it was the only explanation that came to mind.

Of course, the students at the martial arts school had plenty of complaints about Wang Jue passing by them every hour, disturbing their cultivation. A few with shorter tempers even went to complain to Zhao Qingming, asking him to intervene. As a result, Wang Jue received a good scolding from Zhao Qingming and was only released after promising not to disturb his fellow disciples again.

As the saying goes, a setback may turn out to be a blessing in disguise. Pressured by Zhao Qingming, Wang Jue could no longer collect experience in person. As he watched more transparent bubbles drop around the martial arts school, he tried to see if he could pick them up without approaching—just by focusing his will. He had thought, “If it works, great. If not, nothing lost.” To his surprise, his seemingly unreliable method actually worked.

Unfortunately, the martial arts school was only open for three and a half hours a day. During that time, Wang Jue managed to collect experience from more than a dozen senior brothers three times. After subtracting the 110 points required to upgrade his Basic Sword Technique the first time, he had only twenty-four points left, and with the next two rounds, he amassed a total of just 292 points—not even three hundred. For his Basic Sword Technique to reach the next level, he was still less than a third of the way there. At this rate, it would take him another two days to achieve mastery.

By the time Wang Jue left the Ultimate Martial Arts School, it was already half past nine in the evening, and the dozen or so senior brothers had also gone home. There was nothing for it—when closing time came, the school shut its doors.

“The power of the Basic Sword Technique at mastery level increased my strength by at least half. What will happen if I break through to the next level? How much stronger will I become?” Wang Jue pondered this question on his way home. Of course, there was no point in imagining countless possibilities about something that hadn’t yet happened. Plans often failed to keep up with changes, and many things never turned out as one imagined.

When he arrived home, Wang Jue glanced at the clock on the living room wall—it was exactly ten. He had assumed his parents and sister would be asleep by now, but to his surprise, he saw his little sister curled up on the sofa, hugging a pillow, wide black eyes staring at him. The sight gave Wang Jue quite a fright.

When it came to his “untouchable, unscoldable, unspankable” little sister, Wang Jue had not a trace of temper. Once he’d recovered, he asked what was going on and learned that their parents wouldn’t be home that night. They had gone to the hospital to care for their uncle so their aunt could go home and rest, leaving only little Lin Xiaoyu at home.

As for why she wasn’t asleep but sitting in the living room, Wang Jue asked, and his sister replied that she couldn’t sleep with no one else at home. Perhaps seeing Wang Jue return gave her a sense of security—she quickly hopped off the sofa and went to her room. Wang Jue said nothing, simply put his bag in his room and went to take a shower.

About ten minutes later, freshly showered, Wang Jue returned to his room, lay on his bed, and soon drifted off to sleep.

...

The next day, Wang Jue didn’t wake until nearly noon. Since there were no classes at school that day or the next, Wang Jue took the rare opportunity to sleep in. Clad in pajamas, he stepped out of his room and was immediately greeted by the aroma of food wafting through the living room. There was no need to look—he knew his parents, who had spent the night at the hospital, must have returned. Otherwise, with only his sister and himself at home, there’d be no way for food to be ready at this hour. His sister Xiaoyu could eat, but as for cooking—best not to mention it.

Wang Jue poked his head into the living room and, seeing no one, headed to the bathroom to wash up and enjoy a thorough cleanse. Afterwards, he deliberately walked to his parents’ bedroom, pressed his ear to the door, and, hearing nothing inside, knocked softly. When no one answered, he gave up on waking them.

After breakfast, Wang Jue left home. No sooner had he stepped out the gates of their apartment complex than he suddenly remembered that Lan Yiyi had asked him to find her today—or she’d come looking for him. Realizing he’d almost forgotten, Wang Jue hurriedly took out his phone and dialed her number.

Whether Lan Yiyi’s request would turn out to be a blessing or a curse, he would soon know.

The phone rang a few times before someone picked up. Wang Jue quickly greeted her, “Hello, Captain Lan!”

Regardless of strength or status, proper respect was always due.

“I thought you weren’t going to call,” came a woman’s voice from the other end, stiff and emotionless, as if none of it concerned her.

“How could I not? I promised you before,” Wang Jue replied with a wry smile. Although he’d initially agreed by mistake, in the end he had given his word.

Lan Yiyi didn’t dwell on it. “Where are you? I’ll come pick you up.”

“I…”

Wang Jue had only met Lan Yiyi once, but he’d already sized up her personality—she was not one for empty pleasantries. Since she insisted on coming, he saw no need to refuse. He explained his location, agreed on a meeting spot, and ended the call.

He walked to the bus stop he usually used for school and waited there. With nothing else to do, he let his mind wander, guessing what might happen and how he should respond.

It had to be said: humans are strange creatures. Once idle, their minds run wild with speculation.

At last, just as Wang Jue had imagined thousands of scenarios, Lan Yiyi arrived.

She pulled up in a silver-gray car, something reminiscent of a Volkswagen Beetle from his previous life, hovering gently to a stop beside him. The speed was impressive—barely ten minutes had passed since their call.

“Get in.”

The window rolled down, revealing Lan Yiyi in the driver’s seat, dressed casually and with no makeup, her features as exquisite as ever. Wang Jue squinted to make sure he hadn’t mistaken her, then nodded, “Captain Lan.”

After greeting her, Wang Jue wasted no time—before Lan Yiyi could speak, he opened the passenger door and got in.

Lan Yiyi nodded wordlessly and started the car at once.

For the next stretch, the two sat in silence. Wang Jue didn’t know what to say and felt rather uneasy. Fortunately, the awkwardness didn’t last long. Lan Yiyi drove at an astonishing speed—on Earth, a police convoy would have been chasing her for sure.

Soon, the car came to a sudden stop. Clearly, they had arrived.

“Get out. We’re here.”

“The Martial Artists’ Association?” Wang Jue had already seen the sign while in the car, but now that Lan Yiyi had stopped and asked him to get out, he couldn’t help but feel a little puzzled. Why had she brought him here? Was it really just for a match?

Suddenly, Wang Jue remembered her mention of “training.” For some reason, he had a bad feeling.

The Martial Artists’ Association was one of the official organizations, founded by the patriarchs who stood at the very summit of humanity. In every safe zone on Azure Star, the Association had a presence. As its name suggested, it served martial artists and those above them. If the Ultimate Martial Arts School that Wang Jue attended had no formal restrictions and allowed even ordinary people to enroll, the Martial Artists’ Association was strictly regulated—only martial artists could enter.

In a sense, the Martial Artists’ Association could be considered an official martial arts school, even the foremost school in every safe zone. In terms of manpower, strength, and resources, it was second to none—completely beyond the reach of private schools. The struggling Ultimate Martial Arts School, on the verge of bankruptcy, wasn’t even worth mentioning in comparison—the gap was truly despairing.

Looking at the vast expanse of the Martial Artists’ Association before him, Wang Jue couldn’t guess its exact area, but it was at least several times, perhaps over ten times, larger than his entire school. For a martial arts school to occupy more land than a top-ten high school—what kind of financial and martial might was required to claim such a territory?

“Follow me,” Lan Yiyi said, nodding and leading the way inside.

“Oh, alright.”

Since she had spoken, Wang Jue suppressed his swirling thoughts and followed close behind. Realizing it was a bit inappropriate to trail along, he quickened his pace and walked beside her, entering the Association side by side.

Stepping inside, Wang Jue couldn’t help but marvel, “It’s really astonishing.”

The interior was lavishly decorated: tiles, crystal chandeliers, intricate statues—everything exuded the grandeur of a jade palace. Anyone who knew would recognize this as the Martial Artists’ Association; to the uninitiated, it might have seemed a high-class establishment…