Su Jie was nothing like a high school student.

He had always been mature, thinking like an adult from a young age.

Right now, he was carefully considering how to resolve the crisis ahead.

On the surface, Feng Yuxuan was merely making threats without taking any real action. But Su Jie knew that this man was wealthy, powerful, ruthless, and driven by immense financial interest. If Su Jie disrupted his plans, he would definitely retaliate with lethal force.

Capitalists were willing to risk the guillotine for a 300% profit.

Years ago, Feng Yuxuan hadn’t even spared a minor celebrity who betrayed him. How could he possibly let Su Muchen off?

For someone with such vast resources, crushing an ordinary person with no power or influence would be all too easy.

Su Jie would never put his own safety in the hands of his enemy’s mercy.

‘Relying solely on physical strength won’t get me far. No matter how good my martial arts are, I can only fight so many people. As the saying goes, two fists can’t take on four hands. And modern society doesn’t solve problems through brute force. Of course, improving physical fitness and spiritual cultivation is always worthwhile.’

Su Jie had tested his combat ability at the Starshine Combat Fitness Club. Right now, he was capable of defeating Hua Xing—a former national-level martial artist—in the ring.

Of course, that didn’t mean he could beat active national-level fighters.

There was a big gap between those retired and those still competing.

Hua Xing himself admitted that he was only at 60% of his peak performance.

Even at his peak, among national-level fighters, he was only average—not a top-tier champion.

Back then, Hua Xing stood no chance against the elite; the moment they clashed, he’d be overwhelmed.

‘On the ring, I can’t beat those top active fighters. But if it’s on the street, maybe I still have a shot,’ Su Jie thought. He realized that the Hoe Strike technique and the Eighteen Freehand Techniques he had learned weren’t suitable for rule-based combat—they were too restrictive and had little impact.

However, in no-rules street fights—especially against multiple opponents—those moves were incredibly useful.

At Starshine Combat Fitness Club, Su Jie and the others had simulated multiple-opponent combat scenarios.

Su Jie discovered he could handle two to three opponents at most. If there were more than four, he would be quickly defeated.

Of course, those opponents were all well-trained fighters, practically professionals—not ordinary people.

The gap between an average person and a seasoned martial artist was massive.

If it were regular folks, Su Jie had no idea how many he could take on.

He also realized that in multi-person brawls or one-vs-many fights, most ring techniques became useless—and trying to use them would just get you hit.

Take grappling arts, for example: even if you locked down one opponent, the others would start kicking you like crazy. You’d just become a punching bag on the ground.

In those chaotic fights, even Sanda’s leg techniques were ineffective. Boxing turned out to be way more practical.

Through repeated experimentation and testing during simulated group battles, Su Jie found that the most effective move was the Heart Intent Fist. No wonder it was called the “King of Ten Thousand Fists” in ancient martial circles.

Clearly, the experience passed down from generations of ancient martial artists who fought bandits and rebel armies was incredibly valuable.

‘I can handle one Gray Wolf, but if there are two, the risk goes up a lot. Three, and I’m definitely dead. And Feng Yuxuan seems to have a whole crew of these guys. Why would a tech company hire so many foreign mercenaries?’

Lying in bed, Su Jie was thinking about how to defend himself if he got ambushed again.

“Real combat martial arts can be divided into ring fighting techniques, street survival skills, and large-scale military combat techniques.” 

Over the past few days, Su Jie had studied this in detail. The most popular in modern times were the one-on-one techniques used in the ring. Most people trained in these disciplines: Sanda, Muay Thai, Karate, Taekwondo, boxing, and so on.

Then there were street survival skills—traditional martial arts.

Back in ancient times, martial artists often faced danger while wandering the Jianghu. Highway robbers, sneak attacks with cudgels, poisoned food at shady inns, and even wild animals. There were no rules. To protect themselves, they developed the essence of practical traditional martial arts.

Military techniques, used in large-scale warfare, were different again.

Lately, Su Jie had been reading books like Qi Jiguang’s New Treatise on Military Efficiency and Yu Dayou’s Sword Classic. These men were generals who trained soldiers. Their martial arts emphasized courage over finesse—no fancy moves, just direct, deadly charges. Simple and practical, relying on stances like bow stance and horse stance.

The point of the horse stance was to maintain stability and avoid being knocked down during a charge.

In large-scale battles, if you fell—even without enemy interference—you could be trampled to death by your own side.

Ring fighting and street survival skills focused on agility and evasion, while military combat prioritized staying grounded.

Martial theories, the history of martial arts, real combat principles, health-focused qigong, traditional Chinese medicine—everything Su Jie had studied these past few months—were fermenting and simmering in his mind.

One scene after another of combat scenarios flashed through his thoughts like lightning.

For the first time, he felt a real sense of danger—and even a desire to kill.

That thought of killing pushed him to his limits, drawing out all of his potential. His mind became more agile than ever, his cerebral cortex extremely stimulated.

“This feeling is strange… When hatred toward someone reaches the extreme, and you want to kill them, your whole being gets fired up. Hatred really can accelerate growth—because emotions dominate the cerebral cortex. No wonder Southern-style Wing Chun centers around the concept of ‘vengeance.’”

Su Jie quietly felt his heart and mind—he had made huge progress.

In traditional Southern Wing Chun schools, the word “(仇) Hatred” had to be written in big letters right at the center of the dojo.

With a heart filled with hatred, he practiced martial arts and progressed at an extraordinary pace.

Of course, this hatred wasn’t personal—it was for the country.

Many Southern martial arts styles were born from that particular period in history, fueled by the desire to overthrow the Qing and restore the Ming, to reclaim the land. Practicing martial arts with national hatred in their hearts stirred their spirits, allowing them to develop powerful techniques.

Su Jie was overwhelmed with emotion. While thinking of strategies to deal with Feng Yuxuan and the Haoyu Group, his thoughts shifted to how he could strengthen himself. Then, he began to consider various martial arts techniques, how to defend against attackers like Grey Wolf, and eventually, he started reflecting on the history of different schools and styles, the backgrounds that gave rise to them, along with what he had learned from history.

It was as if his thoughts pierced through the mists of time, reaching back into different eras to dance alongside martial arts masters of old.

Every culture and every martial art has its own unique historical background.

Once you’re familiar with their history, the social conflicts and transformations they faced, it’s not hard to understand their techniques, training methods, and core philosophies.

That’s what it means to seek the origin of martial arts with your heart.

To use intention to part the mists of history—

Only then can you grasp the truest form of martial arts.

With the dedication of an archaeologist or historian, you can restore martial arts and history to their original form, unearthing the truth buried beneath the dust of time.

Boom!

After Su Jie’s mind reached this heightened state of activity, he suddenly fell silent—and actually drifted off to sleep just like that.

If you didn’t listen closely, you wouldn’t even be able to tell he was breathing or had a pulse. He seemed to be in a state of suspended death. Yet his consciousness remained sharp. His body was deeply rested, and he had full awareness of everything happening around him. He could even hear conversations happening on the floors above and below him, even across several levels of the building.

The sensation was bizarre, almost like an “out-of-body experience.”

But in reality, it was his perception expanding so much that he could sense things regular people couldn’t even imagine.

His spiritual cultivation had suddenly risen to a new level.

‘Could it be that I’ve reached the realm of the ‘Living Dead’?’ Su Jie had this feeling in his heart. ‘This is the realm of Ancestor Chongyang… Could it be that I’ve reached his spiritual level? No! I’ve only just touched the threshold. I haven’t truly entered.” (G:Referring to Wang Chongyang, a significant historical figure known as the founder of the Quanzhen School of Daoism.)

Suddenly, Su Jie snapped awake.

He understood—he had touched the threshold of the “Living Dead” state.

This was the realm described in “The Writings of Master Lie”, where the “perfected ones live as though dead.”

But he hadn’t yet stepped fully inside.

He was like a gourmet who had smelled the aroma of a master chef’s feast on the table—but hadn’t yet taken a bite.

And just that scent alone was more satisfying than the most delightful experiences in the world.

This state of mind was the true essence of cultivation.

Su Jie already had a strong foundation, and with today’s surge of “killing intent,” his mind had become incredibly active. He had finally brushed against that threshold. Even though he hadn’t entered, he had already caught a glimpse of the secrets inside.

It was that kind of spiritual state.

After waking, he began to practice martial arts.

Right there in his cramped bedroom.

Originally, the room was so small it could barely fit a person—it was impossible to train in, with no space to stretch out. But now, as he began practicing, everything flowed naturally. The room felt vast, as if it were as wide as the massive training field at Minglun Martial Arts Academy. Every movement could be executed freely.

He twisted and turned, moved swiftly and smoothly, without any hindrance at all.

It was as if the limitations of space no longer existed for him.

Even the tiniest corner could now be used to practice martial arts without compromising the essence of the movements—everything flowed like a mountain spring or drifting clouds.

‘This is the state where a dragon can rest calmly even in a cave meant for eels and serpents. My martial arts have improved again,’ Su Jie thought to himself with growing clarity.

Just like drinking water—only you can know whether it’s hot or cold.

His martial arts had indeed improved, but how much it would affect his actual combat ability was still unknown. Su Jie couldn’t wait to test it out.

Martial improvement certainly boosts combat strength, but exactly how much? That was still uncharted territory.

“I’ll head over to Starshine Combat Fitness Club later today to test myself. Then I’ll talk to Lu Shu and the others to explain the whole situation. Those rich boys might be useful too. Of course, they’re all slick as foxes—definitely not easy to deal with. I’ll need to come up with a plan…”

Su Jie made a daily plan for studying and training, then followed it step by step.

Although he hadn’t fully reached the realm of the “perfected ones who live as though dead,” he still did his best to embody the idea of “moving like a machine.”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep