Chapter 1

"Yongchun Half-Step Collapse!"

"Bang! Bang! Bang!"

The young boy, who had just thrown three punches in succession, looked at the large hole he had created in the tree, which was as thick as an adult's waist, and finally let out a sigh of relief. He turned his head and asked, "Master, am I qualified?"

The old man beside him took a few steps forward, touched the hole in the tree, and laughed heartily, "Good disciple! Good disciple! You are indeed worthy of being Mr. Feng's eldest grandson. In just five short years, you have mastered the 'Yongchun Half-Step Collapse.'"

The boy only smiled slightly, but his already small eyes squinted into a slit. He habitually touched his earlobe and said, "As a disciple of the great Wang Sanpao, of course I cannot tarnish my master's reputation in the martial world!"

Wang Sanpao stroked his beard, somewhat proudly, and said, "That's right. Your master, in his prime, was known as..."

The boy interrupted with a grin, "‘Wang Sanpao, the Half-Step Collapse Fist, who doesn’t need a fourth move’—that’s not a very good name, and yet you always brag about it. I don’t want to be called ‘Feng Sanpao’ in the future; that sounds terrible!"

Wang Sanpao coughed awkwardly, stroking his beard even faster, and said with a slight flush of anger, "What’s so bad about it? Back in the day, my friends in the martial world..."

Feng Xiaoxiao lazily waved his hand, interrupting again, "Everyone respected and admired you, but why do you have the nickname ‘Flee at the Sight of the Wind’?"

Wang Sanpao clenched his hand, breaking a few of his own beard hairs, and glared angrily, "Back then, I couldn’t defeat him, but it certainly wasn’t ‘Flee at the Sight of the Wind.’ Don’t forget, it’s me who is teaching you now. Does Mr. Feng have the ability to do that?"

Feng Xiaoxiao smiled and said, "Of course, Master is the last remaining external martial arts expert, with a body that has been refined to perfection. No one except my grandfather can withstand your three moves."

Wang Sanpao, feeling a bit heartbroken, touched his broken beard and carefully placed it in his pocket. He then said, "Hmph! Go and challenge him to a fight. If he can still withstand my three moves, I’ll write my name backwards."

He lifted his chin, looking extremely proud, without a hint of embarrassment.

Feng Xiaoxiao inwardly cursed his master for being shameless, even though he was clearly in a winning position. His name is Wang, and even if written backwards, it’s still Wang. Would anyone take that bet?

So he deliberately mocked, "Nowadays, the earth’s spiritual energy is thin, and all the internal martial arts experts have lost their inner strength. How can they still be your match? Even if you win, it won’t be a fair victory!"

Wang Sanpao laughed, "Heh heh, even the heavens are helping me. Mr. Feng has suppressed me for half a lifetime, but now he has to entrust his eldest grandson to me. Ha ha, it’s truly satisfying."

Feng Xiaoxiao had always been a bit puzzled and finally couldn’t help but ask, "If you are so dissatisfied with my grandfather, why do you still call him ‘Mr. Feng’?"

Wang Sanpao immediately put on a serious face, clenched his fists in dissatisfaction, but ultimately sighed and said, "Now that your fist technique is fully developed, you are ready to leave the master. I won’t hide it from you anymore. Sigh... In my youth, I made a grave mistake, causing the destruction of the sect and the end of hundreds of years of tradition...” He lowered his head, clenching his fists tightly, and struck the tree with a heavy punch. "Bang!" The tree immediately broke and flew several meters away, landing on the ground and scattering leaves.

Feng Xiaoxiao felt a bit regretful, realizing that this was a painful memory his master had tried to forget, but now it had been brought up again.

After the leaves slowly fell to the ground, Wang Sanpao lifted his head, closed his eyes, and shed two tears. After a while, he opened his eyes, smiled bitterly, and said, "I won’t go into the details. The past is too painful to recall. Although Mr. Feng suppressed me for half a lifetime, he also gave me a chance to redeem myself..."

Feng Xiaoxiao, who had never expected his shameless master to have such a side, was stunned for a moment and then carefully consoled, "Master, to know one’s mistake and correct it is the greatest virtue. Since you have repented, the ancestors of the sect will surely not blame you."

Wang Sanpao shook his head, wiped away his tears, and slowly said, "I am a sinner of the sect and dare not hope for the forgiveness of the ancestors. Now that your fist technique is fully developed, your power is not inferior to mine in my prime. I hope that one day, you can rebuild the sect, which might slightly alleviate my past sins."

Feng Xiaoxiao softly asked, "What is the name of the sect?"

Wang Sanpao, with a look of shame, lowered his head for a long time before speaking, "Huashan Sect!"

Feng Xiaoxiao’s mouth hung open in shock. After a while, he exclaimed, "Huashan Sect? I didn’t hear wrong? Is it really the Huashan Sect?"

Wang Sanpao nodded firmly, not blinking, his eyes full of expectation.

Feng Xiaoxiao, however, calmed down and, after some thought, asked, "I remember the Huashan Sect uses swords, right? I have always practiced fist techniques."

Wang Sanpao sighed and began to explain.

The Huashan Sect, established by the ancestor Hao Datong at the end of the Northern Song Dynasty, had been prosperous for a long time. Unfortunately, it began to decline during the Qing Dynasty and experienced many years of war, causing many of its martial arts to be lost.

At that time, the world was in chaos, with warlords dividing the land. The fires of war gradually spread to Huashan. To avoid destruction, the Huashan Sect reluctantly dispersed its elite disciples, sending them to different places with the remaining sect texts, hoping they would leave behind successors. They hoped that in times of peace, the sect could be rebuilt and the tradition continued.

However, most martial artists were hot-blooded and chivalrous. Seeing the frequent wars and the suffering of the people, they could not bear to live in peace and prolong their lives. Almost all of them led their disciples to join the revolution.

At that time, it was already evident that the spiritual energy in the world was rapidly dissipating, and the inner strength that could be cultivated was extremely weak, making internal martial arts almost useless against firearms. Therefore, most of the Huashan Sect disciples poured their blood and passion into the wars.

When the wars subsided, only Wang Sanpao remained, and the only martial arts he had left were the three unnamed fist techniques he had learned.

Wang Sanpao, tears streaming down his face, sobbed uncontrollably, lying on the ground in grief.

Feng Xiaoxiao touched his earlobe, thinking that his master must have done something dishonorable at that time, otherwise, the Huashan Sect wouldn’t have been reduced to just him. But seeing his master’s grief, he couldn’t bear to bring up the painful past and instead asked, "Why did the spiritual energy dissipate so quickly?"

Wang Sanpao took a deep breath, sat on the ground, and shook his head, "I don’t know, but Mr. Feng once studied it. He said that since the Song Dynasty, each generation’s inner strength has been far inferior to the previous one. It is said that in the early Song Dynasty, some people had such profound inner strength that they could form a protective aura outside their bodies, making them invulnerable to weapons. But by the mid-Ming Dynasty, they had to rely on the changes in techniques."

Feng Xiaoxiao also sat on the ground, frowning, "Grandfather said that? It must be true. So, the closer to modern times, the thinner the spiritual energy, and the lower the quality of inner strength?"

Wang Sanpao nodded, "That’s right, but you are an exception."

Feng Xiaoxiao smiled, "Isn’t it because I practiced the ‘Calm Heart Technique’? It allows me to accumulate nearly ten years of inner strength and automatically absorb the spiritual energy from the world without losing it."

Wang Sanpao, now out of his grief and shame, scratched his sparse hair and said, "Unfortunately, this technique can only be practiced by you. It is useless for Mr. Feng and me. Otherwise... sigh... it’s fate... maybe it’s the heavens’ punishment for me!"

Feng Xiaoxiao also looked gloomy, knowing why his master was so distressed.

Wang Sanpao, who had trained in body refinement, was aggressive in his youth and had many hidden injuries. Without inner strength to protect him, he would suffer greatly from these injuries in the future.

Feng Xiaoxiao, feeling sorry for his master but helpless, forced a smile, "After practicing the ‘Calm Heart Technique,’ although my inner strength is stored in my body and cannot be used, my physical condition, memory, senses, and intuition are far superior to ordinary people. I will surely become the greatest martial artist in the world. Then, I will rebuild the Huashan Sect, and many will join, bringing hope for the revival of the sect."

Wang Sanpao finally managed to force a smile.