Chapter 50: Lin Pingzhi's Heart of a Warrior

Chapter 50: Lin Pingzhi’s Heart of a Warrior

After Linghu Chong descended the mountain, he encountered a series of remarkable adventures, which we will set aside for now.

On the Cliff of Reflection, Zheng Jian looked at the somewhat nervous Lin Pingzhi before him and scratched his rear.

“What’s this? Master dumped you on me, so he can enjoy some peace and quiet?”

Lin Pingzhi smiled awkwardly, “No, not at all. Master has been fairly busy lately, and he thought since Senior Brother is up here on the Cliff of Reflection with nothing much to do, it’d be good for me to come up and ask for your guidance…”

Zheng Jian’s face was filled with gloom. Was he ever going to have a proper chance to relax? Old Yue wanted to slack off and had foisted Lin Pingzhi onto him under the pretense of “teaching on behalf of the master.” As if! Old geezer, you’re sly as a fox!

What was even more frustrating was that Old Yue seemed to have anticipated Zheng Jian’s reaction, so he took Ning Zhongze and Yue Lingshan with him to Mount Heng in the north, supposedly for a visit, but in truth, it was just a scenic excursion!

“Old Yue really knows how to travel with his wife and daughter…” Zheng Jian grumbled inwardly. He was always the one helping others, but this time, the tables had turned and he had been played by Old Yue.

Looking at Lin Pingzhi, who stood there meekly, Zheng Jian knew he couldn’t lose his temper with him. This boy was fragile, easily discouraged.

With no other choice, Zheng Jian put on a stern face and said, “Since that’s the case, you’ll train with me on the mountain for the time being. But I have one condition—listen carefully.”

Lin Pingzhi’s eyes lit up, nodding enthusiastically like a pecking chick, “Certainly, please tell me what it is, Senior Brother.”

“You can practice, but you must not enter the cave and disturb me! I don’t allow interruptions during my training.”

“No problem! Not only will I not disturb you, Senior Brother, I’ll stop anyone else who tries to!”

Zheng Jian nodded, pleased with Lin Pingzhi’s attitude. “Excellent! Now, let me test your abilities so I know how to teach you. Give me everything you’ve got—use either the Huashan sword technique or your family’s sword style, whatever you prefer.”

Lin Pingzhi knew full well he couldn’t harm Zheng Jian, no matter what. “Please be careful, Senior Brother.”

Zheng Jian waved it off, “Go ahead.”

Lin Pingzhi concentrated, then charged at Zheng Jian with his sword, executing the Huashan sword move “Phoenix Comes to Rest.” Clearly, Old Yue had at least taught him the basics, saving Zheng Jian the trouble of teaching him from scratch.

Zheng Jian didn’t move from his spot. With a simple twist of his body, he avoided Lin Pingzhi’s blade. His right hand formed a palm and struck Lin Pingzhi’s shoulder—not using inner force, just enough to knock him back a few steps. “Again!”

Lin Pingzhi immediately rushed at him again.

“Again!”

“Again!”

“Again!”

…

In just a short while, Lin Pingzhi was sprawled on the ground, unable to get up, his face bruised and battered, no longer the handsome youth he once was.

And this was only because Zheng Jian had refrained from using inner force, carefully controlling his strength!

“Your swordplay is decent, your foundation solid. It’s clear you’ve put in hard work recently. But swordplay alone isn’t enough. At Huashan, we value the union of qi and sword. Without sufficient inner energy, you’ll end up like you are now—exhausted after just a few exchanges. True masters of internal arts have enduring breath; they could fight for a day and night without tiring,” Zheng Jian lectured calmly.

He wasn’t exaggerating. Lin Pingzhi’s family sword style had made his Huashan sword technique quite proficient, and Zheng Jian understood why.

The “Evil-Repelling Sword Technique” had many moves resembling Huashan swordplay. Years ago, Huashan’s two ancestors, Yue Su and Cai Zifeng, secretly observed the “Sunflower Manual” at Shaolin. Each memorized part and, upon returning, compared notes but failed to match them, leading to the division between the Sword and Qi schools. Later, Lin Yuantu was entrusted by Master Hongye to ascend Huashan and, after recording most of the manual, created the “Evil-Repelling Sword Manual.”

Because of this, Lin Pingzhi found learning Huashan swordplay easy.

Glancing at the sky, Zheng Jian instructed, “Now, go down the mountain and bring back food. You have the time it takes to burn one incense stick!”

Lin Pingzhi didn’t dare delay. Ignoring his pain, he scrambled up, saw Zheng Jian standing serenely on the cliff’s edge, and hurried down the mountain.

“Not bad, a promising seedling!” Zheng Jian muttered with the air of a seasoned master. He wasn’t making life difficult for Lin Pingzhi; he had noticed Lin Pingzhi’s weak inner strength and devised this method to help him train. If Lin Pingzhi was clever enough, he’d understand.

Lin Pingzhi dashed down the mountain, stumbling often in his haste. Yet, thoughts of his parents’ tragic deaths drove him to get up each time and continue—fall after fall, run after run.

By the time he fetched the food from the kitchen, he was utterly spent, but still pushed himself step by step up the mountain, unwilling to disappoint Zheng Jian, who, in his eyes, was even more important than Master Yue.

“Huff… huff…” Gradually, Lin Pingzhi felt as if he were dying, unable to catch his breath, his legs heavy as lead.

“Is this my limit?”

“Is this really all I have to offer?”

“How can I ever challenge the Qingcheng Sect and avenge my parents like this?”

“Lin Pingzhi, do you know that if you give up now, you’ll be doomed to eke out a mediocre life at Huashan forever!”

He questioned himself with every step, relying on sheer willpower as he pressed on. Just as he was about to reach his limit, a voice suddenly echoed in his ears.

“External breaths may fail, but inner energy will arise.”

“Sink your intention to your lower abdomen, let your spirit settle into the spiritual womb.”

Lin Pingzhi had no time to wonder where the voice came from. His consciousness was nearly fuzzy, but unconsciously, he followed the guidance, gradually controlling his breathing.

Slowly, he felt a warm current inside him; his exhausted strength began to recover, and his steps grew firmer.

Revived, Lin Pingzhi gritted his teeth and climbed onward, adjusting his breathing as instructed by the mental formula ringing in his mind.

He finally dragged himself up to the Cliff of Reflection, where Zheng Jian watched him with satisfaction. Lin Pingzhi relaxed at last, forced a faint smile, and promptly fainted.

Zheng Jian: “…He really hasn’t suffered much, has he…”

Still, it was already impressive.

Zheng Jian muttered to himself. Truth be told, Lin Pingzhi’s effort made him feel ashamed; from the day he began training, he himself had never worked so hard.

It was no wonder Lin Pingzhi, with talent and such dedication, became the fastest cultivator in the world of the Smiling Proud Wanderer. Even Linghu Chong couldn’t match his pace.

Even in this timeline, where Lin Pingzhi wouldn’t train in the quick-fix “Evil-Repelling Sword Manual,” Zheng Jian believed that, at this rate, Lin Pingzhi would still become a top master!

Because he already possessed all the qualities and conditions required to become one.

In other words, he had the “heart of a warrior.”

…

(End of Chapter)