Chapter 5: Lunge and Thrust

Chapter 5: Lunge and Thrust

Early the next morning, Chen Shouyi opened his eyes and lay dazed for dozens of seconds before finally recalling yesterday’s extraordinary encounter. Though fully awake, after a night’s sleep, it all felt like a beautiful dream—so unreal it was almost surreal.

Cautiously, he tentatively called out for the "Book of Knowledge." Only when the illusory status panel flickered into his mind did he finally let out a sigh of relief.

"This is real. Not a dream. I really am different now!"

Silently repeating these words to himself, his chest seemed to swell with strength, his entire body brimming with boundless energy.

Then he noticed that the energy on the panel had increased slightly. After yesterday’s optimization, it had dropped to a mere 0.2 points, but after just one night’s sleep, it had risen to 0.24. In a few more days, he might be able to optimize again.

He reached for his phone on the bedside table and checked the time—only 5:30 a.m.

In the past, he would have dozed off again, dragging himself out of bed reluctantly only when his mother woke him at 6:30. But now, he felt no trace of sleepiness.

He sat up quickly.

"Ouch!"

The next moment, a dull ache spread through his muscles, yet the soreness made him grin with delight.

Normally, someone like him—who practiced the Thirty-Six Body Refining Techniques almost every night—rarely experienced such excessive lactic acid buildup. The only explanation was that this session had engaged muscles he had never trained before.

This was undoubtedly a good sign. It meant the optimized Thirty-Six Body Refining Techniques could exercise his entire body more thoroughly than the standard version.

......

"Dad! Mom! I’m off to school!"

Grabbing the steamed buns his mother had bought that morning, he stuffed one into his mouth while pushing his bicycle out the door.

"Be careful on the road!"

"Got it!"

After devouring four large meat buns, he still felt ravenous. He had to stop by a snack shop midway to buy five more before finally feeling full.

......

The moment Sun Xin walked into the classroom, he started complaining, "You weren’t online yesterday, and it pissed me off so much! I finally climbed to Gold rank, only to get matched with a bunch of kids. Now I’m back in Silver."

Chen Shouyi, reciting English vocabulary under his breath, replied offhandedly, "Why get so worked up? It’s just a game. You can always climb back up."

His mother kept a tight leash on him, so he rarely played games—not that he had the means to. His family didn’t even own a computer, and his phone was an old hand-me-down from his parents, barely capable of browsing the web or making calls. They were worried he’d lose himself to bad habits.

"You... we have nothing in common," Sun Xin grumbled, then suddenly noticed something unusual. "Huh? Why are you studying so hard today? Did something happen?"

Compared to Sun Xin, Chen Shouyi had always been diligent, but never to this extent—muttering English words under his breath even while talking.

"It’s senior year. If I don’t push myself now, it’ll be too late!" Chen Shouyi said without turning his head. He was brimming with motivation, every fiber of his being charged with energy.

Whether it was passing the martial apprentice exam or getting into university, he was determined to achieve at least one of them.

Sun Xin chuckled dismissively and set down his backpack, unimpressed. He had heard Chen Shouyi make such declarations many times before, each lasting no more than a fleeting enthusiasm. Within a few days, he would inevitably revert to his old self.

...

In the afternoon, inside the basketball gym of Dongning Fifth High School, dozens of Rubber Humanoid Models stood neatly arranged in two rows. Groups of uniformed boys and girls wielded wooden swords, repeatedly thrusting at the models. The sound of "thwacks" filled the air.

A robust middle-aged man in athletic wear walked among the students, occasionally correcting their movements.

For the cold weapons assessment of Martial Arts apprentices, while archery was mandatory, the choice of close-combat weapons was not restricted to swords—daggers, spears, or even knives were acceptable. However, swords remained the mainstream choice, with few opting for alternatives. Additionally, their Physical Education teacher specialized in sword techniques, so their Martial Arts class focused solely on swordsmanship.

Chen Shouyi thrust his sword with intense focus, one strike after another, knocking the models askew. These models had humanoid upper bodies but lacked legs; instead, their lower halves consisted of hemispherical bases filled with dozens of kilograms of metal, making them impossible to topple, no matter the force applied—like weighted roly-poly dolls.

"Every proper Lunge Thrust is a coordinated effort of the entire body's muscles."

"Don’t rely on brute force for the Lunge Thrust. More power isn’t always better. Focus on sensing your own exertion—whether your muscles are working in unison and finding the rhythm of that coordination."

"From the sole of your left foot pressing into the ground, up through your legs and hips, to your waist, chest, shoulders, arms, and fingers—feel whether every muscle is engaged, whether every joint contributes to the motion."

"The human body is full of levers. Learn how to amplify minimal force into maximum power, building momentum from the ground up until it surges through the tip of your sword!"

"If you’ve already achieved some proficiency in Meditative Self-Refinement, reaching this stage will be relatively easier. If not, then relentless practice is your only path."

The P.E. teacher’s instructions on thrusting were nothing new—Chen Shouyi could recite them by heart.

In the age of the internet, knowledge was cheap. A simple tap could summon countless tutorials, videos, and texts. But knowing was one thing; executing it was another. Like most, Chen Shouyi struggled to perform even the most basic Lunge Thrust correctly—the foundational move of swordsmanship.

Mastering swordsmanship was notoriously difficult. Countless trainees with adequate physical conditioning were ultimately barred by this hurdle.

As for Meditative Self-Refinement, it was even more daunting. Chen Shouyi could barely achieve a semblance of stillness, let alone sense the "refinement" of his body in that elusive state between presence and absence.

Compared to others, whose movements flowed with relative ease, Chen Shouyi’s muscles were stiff as stone, his form nearly pitiful. Yet he persisted, thrusting again and again, striving to align his movements with the standard while keenly observing his body’s mechanics.

At least the sight of Sun Xin, performing even worse beside him, and Zhao Yifeng ahead offered some consolation.

The class ended swiftly.

The trio regrouped and headed back to the classroom.

"I'm exhausted! This Martial Arts class is so boring, I'd rather be in regular class," Zhao Yifeng complained breathlessly, his dark, chubby face glistening with sweat.

"You should lose some weight," Chen Shouyi couldn't help but tease. "Girls don’t seem to like chubby guys."

"Oh, like you’re any more popular," Zhao Yifeng shot back.

Chen Shouyi: "…"

In class, he was practically invisible, a silent figure who only became talkative when with his two troublemaking friends. Normally, he kept to himself, and sometimes, if a girl so much as greeted him, his face would inexplicably turn red.