Chapter 83: Genius

After a day of hard work, Zhang Xiaohua, who was already accustomed to it, did not feel any fatigue. However, continuously recalling the moves of the Luohan Fist in his mind from morning till night was indeed a mentally and physically exhausting task.

Unfortunately, when it was time to practice martial arts again in the evening, the disciple who had taught him in the morning was speechless. Zhang Xiaohua had forgotten everything except the first six moves!

The disciple reported this with a deep sense of frustration to He Tianshu, saying, "This disciple is impossible to teach. Even the most foolish person would have remembered by now with your teaching. Why can't Zhang Xiaohua remember? I can't just stop my own cultivation to keep teaching him Luohan Fist, can I?"

He Tianshu thought for a moment, gritted his teeth, and said, "Teach him for one more night tonight. Tomorrow, we'll switch to someone else. I don't believe that with four of us, we can't teach him Luohan Fist."

That night, the results were fruitful. After the disciple taught him the moves seven or eight times, Zhang Xiaohua actually performed all sixteen moves of the Luohan Fist in front of He Tianshu. The onlookers from the Piaomiao Sect all thought the same thing: "Hard work pays off. Even an iron rod can be ground into a needle, as the ancients said."

When everyone returned to their rooms with a sense of satisfaction as teachers, Zhang Xiaohua was still reviewing the entire set of Luohan Fist at the same spot. Unfortunately, from some point on, he started forgetting the moves one by one. Zhang Xiaohua was at a loss, unsure whether to continue practicing or to stop. He was afraid of forgetting if he stopped, but also afraid of forgetting if he continued. It was a dilemma.

In the end, he just stood in a horse stance.

It was not until late at night that he slowly returned to his room.

Zhang Xiaohua, who was disappointed, did not know that a pair of eyes had been watching him all night. It was the one-armed Yu Lao, who had come to observe him the night before.

The next morning, Zhang Xiaohua's performance with the Luohan Fist once again struck a blow to the Piaomiao Sect's strong spirit. The confidence they had just built as teachers instantly collapsed. He Tianshu, looking at Zhang Xiaohua's still error-ridden five and a half moves, decisively switched to another disciple. This disciple stepped forward with a sense of martyrdom, almost singing, "The wind is cold, the water is cold."

That day's martial arts practice was a repeat of the previous day. He Tianshu was speechless again. "What a genius, a once-in-a-millennium genius, truly the first person of the Piaomiao Sect."

For several consecutive days, the Piaomiao Sect's disciples took turns teaching Zhang Xiaohua. The result was that their understanding of the Luohan Fist reached a "new" level that no one before them had achieved. They also relived the "warmth" of their early days of martial arts practice. In the end, looking at Zhang Xiaohua's unchanged five and a half moves, He Tianshu waved his hand, sweeping away the last bit of hope in his heart. The once fiery heart returned to its usual state.

"I always hoped for a big pie to fall from the sky and land in my mouth. Unfortunately, I guessed the process right but not the ending. What fell was a big iron hammer, and it hit my forehead." This was the phrase He Tianshu repeated the most during his days at Huaxi Manor.

Disappointment was disappointment, and frustration was frustration, but the task given by Manor Lord Ou still needed to be completed.

So, He Tianshu changed his strategy and began teaching Zhang Xiaohua a second set of boxing techniques, the Tianluo Fist. This set of boxing techniques was also very simple, consisting of twenty moves. He Tianshu demonstrated it once and then taught Zhang Xiaohua hand by hand. Perhaps because of the foundation of the Luohan Fist, Zhang Xiaohua learned twelve moves on his first try, which slightly moistened He Tianshu's dry heart. However, the next day, Zhang Xiaohua's performance was like a tornado, completely turning He Tianshu's heart into a barren land.

The Tianluo Fist that Zhang Xiaohua remembered, apart from the starting move, only had three moves, all of which were riddled with errors. These three moves were not consecutive in the sequence but were three moves scattered among the first twelve. It was unknown how Zhang Xiaohua connected them, but when he performed them, they looked quite natural.

Naturally, the other three disciples took turns teaching him. After a few days, the result was still only these three moves, with no corrections made. They remained as they were when first taught.

He Tianshu, and the other three disciples, no longer harbored any hope for Zhang Xiaohua.

He Tianshu changed his strategy again. Instead of having four people teach Zhang Xiaohua the same set of boxing techniques, he had the three disciples teach him different sets. He himself no longer taught him, as whoever taught him, the result would be the same—errors and forgetfulness. He decided to save his energy and teach one set at a time.

At the beginning, the other three disciples taught each set of boxing techniques several times. However, they found that no matter how many times they taught, whether once or twenty times, the next day, Zhang Xiaohua would only remember a few moves. Teaching more was useless. So, they changed their strategy, teaching each set of boxing techniques only once, and only one set per day.

Thus, the life of the Piaomiao Sect's disciples returned to its starting point. Every evening, one of the three disciples taught Zhang Xiaohua a new set of boxing techniques, whether simple or complex, just one set. The next morning, Zhang Xiaohua would perform the moves he remembered.

In this strange martial arts practice, Zhang Xiaohua learned incomplete versions of the Erlang Fist, Weituo Fist, Dajiang Fist, Baxian Fist, Tianluo Fist, Dishasha Fist, Liuxing Fist, Nezha Fist, Jin Gang Fist, Guanyin Fist, Fohan Fist, Fojiao Fist, Luohan Fist, Jin Gang Hammer, Ershibaxing Fist, Sixian Duizhan Fist, Qixing Fangyou Fist, Luohan Tanglang Fist, Yecha Xunhai Fist, Jin Gang Sanmei Palm, and Yecha Tiesha Palm, among others. He learned one set per day, which was quite fast.

Among these boxing techniques, the best he could remember were nearly ten moves, while the least were two or three. These few moves were rarely consecutive in the original set but were connected by Zhang Xiaohua himself. Strangely, Zhang Xiaohua's connections were quite ingenious, some as seamless as a hanging antelope horn, even making He Tianshu marvel. The most peculiar thing was that the moves Zhang Xiaohua remembered were mostly incorrect, and the parts he changed, he remembered firmly, never to be corrected or forgotten.

When Zhang Xiaohua practiced the incomplete but seemingly coherent different sets of boxing techniques he had learned, He Tianshu shook his head and thought, "To learn boxing techniques to this extent, he must be a genius."

For a long time afterward, Zhang Xiaohua was up early and late, always the first to arrive at the training ground in the morning and the last to return to his room at night. His diligence in cultivation made Yu Lao, who observed him secretly every day, nod in approval, thinking, "Zhang Xiaohua's talent is truly not ordinary. His head is like a block of wood, almost impossible to carve. However, his perseverance and ability to endure hardship are remarkable. He is truly a person who can grind an iron rod into a needle, a person with great potential."

Unbeknownst to Zhang Xiaohua, every time he stepped into the room, he was holding his breath, secretly cursing, "When will Ma Jing start washing his feet?" Every morning, when he rushed out of the door, he shouted, "Long live! Finally, I can breathe fresh air."

Sigh, if heaven has eyes, does every successful man have someone silently supporting him behind the scenes? But could the person behind Zhang Xiaohua be the stinky-footed Ma Jing?

Regardless, while Zhang Xiaohua was diligently practicing the basic boxing techniques that Piaomiao Sect disciples started learning at four or five years old at Huaxi Manor, the neighboring Piaomiao Manor was filled with joy.

In the Piaomiao Sect's meeting hall, the atmosphere was lively, far from the usual solemnity. Ou Peng, as always, sat high in the front, smiling at the commotion below. Although Ou Peng looked calm, his smile clearly showed that the great leader was very excited and agitated.

Indeed, since the founding of the Piaomiao Sect, which has a recorded history of several hundred years, the sect's influence had never crossed the Luo River. At its peak, it only covered the southern Wanjian Peak. However, due to the incompetence of several successive leaders, the Piaomiao Sect declined and retreated to the vicinity of Pingyang City. Recently, Ou Peng personally led the campaign against the Luo River Sect. Although water battles were not the Piaomiao Sect's strong suit, under the planning and deployment of Ou Peng and Shangguan Fengliu, they miraculously won with minimal casualties, and Ou Peng personally captured the leader of the Luo River Sect, Shui Yupeng.

The Luo River Sect, which made its home on the Luo River, had a large number of members. Although its overall strength was slightly inferior to the Piaomiao Sect, the difference was minimal. The Piaomiao Sect's victory over the Luo River Sect was partly due to the elite team and the martial arts of the Piaomiao Six Tigers.

Reflecting on the battle at the core of the Luo River Sect, Ou Peng still felt a lingering fear. He never imagined that Shui Yupeng was a hidden great master, and the hall leaders and elders of the sect were also formidable. If it weren't for the extraordinary encounter at Wuzhi Mountain earlier in the year, the Piaomiao Sect would have been defeated by the Luo River Sect, and they might have been left on the Luo River. Ou Peng reminded himself again that in the martial world, one must act within one's capabilities. Any action beyond one's ability can only lead to one result—playing with fire.

However, at this moment, the most important thing was to celebrate the hard-won victory. Other matters could be considered after the celebration. Now, the Piaomiao Sect was united and in high spirits. Putting on a stern face would only dampen the mood. Although Ou Peng had such authority, he would not do such a pedantic thing.

Everyone in the meeting hall wore smiles, regardless of their age. Initially, they still had some reservations about the solemnity of the meeting hall, but seeing the usually serious leader smiling, they relaxed and enjoyed the rare moment of joy. Tomorrow, they would likely have to maintain a solemn face again, so they might as well laugh now.