Chapter Five: The Way of Martial Arts

“Did I overdo it?” Lin Shan muttered to himself, gazing at his own hand.

He looked up at the mural, removed it from his chest, and sat on the bed, holding the mural in his hands, his mind filled with confusion.

He couldn’t understand how such a small mural could trigger such a powerful reaction in his body—he had leapt from the ground directly onto the wall.

Lin Shan looked at his hands and smiled, then dashed out of the room, eager to test the extent of his newfound strength.

Outside, he eyed the trees, grinned, focused his qi in his dantian, took a deep breath, and clenched his fists.

Imitating the moves from the mural, he spread his legs, veins and muscles bulging, as a gentle breeze drifted past and leaves fluttered down.

A green leaf landed perfectly on his fist as he struck—“thud!”—his fist hit the tree trunk dead center, the branches swayed, and green leaves danced to the ground.

Shocked, Lin Shan withdrew his fist and saw a dent in the trunk, precisely the size of his fist. He marveled at the force he now possessed.

Smiling, he glanced back at the house, thinking this must be a great stroke of fortune. He imagined the moves depicted in the mural—his fists and feet cutting through the air, wind whipping the leaves around the small hill, as if his arms were guiding their motion.

From afar, he looked like a grandmaster, his palms drifting, leaves following in graceful arcs. Gradually, his punches grew faster, movements more fluid, a bead of sweat fell and landed on a swirling leaf, which continued along its predetermined path, unaffected.

As Lin Shan’s movements changed, more leaves fell from the branches, forming a small whirlwind.

In the distance, a figure approached, watching Lin Shan’s actions in fascination, unmoving, a smile spreading across their lips.

Lin Shan exhaled and inhaled, pulling air deep into his abdomen until his belly swelled. His hands dropped, his breath dispersing through his nose.

The breeze carried the leaves to the ground, and the extraordinary scene seemed to vanish as if it had never happened.

Standing in the garden, Lin Shan sensed a transformation in his body, most clearly in the sweat dripping from his forehead. He wiped it away and smiled, deeply satisfied.

“Lin Shan, are you practicing?” Lin Ruoxi called from afar, seeing him stop and running over to ask.

“Yes! I tried a few moves from the mural above the bed—I feel great!” he replied, smiling at her as she bounded energetically toward him. After all, this was the Lin Family.

He wasn’t exaggerating; he truly felt his body had become much lighter.

“Mural moves?” Lin Ruoxi touched her forehead, as if recalling something.

“What about the moves on the mural?” Lin Shan didn’t think it was anything special. Wasn’t the mural in the west wing just for guests to see?

“That’s right, the mural!” Lin Ruoxi’s eyes brightened as something came to mind.

“My father once told me the moves in the west wing’s mural are a set, the inner room and the outer mural belong together.

It’s a breathing technique passed down from our ancestors. He mentioned it when I was very young, though I’ve forgotten most of it. I only remember it helps improve control over your body!”

Lin Shan listened carefully, recalling how he’d felt uncomfortable when practicing certain moves, as if his flow had been abruptly interrupted. So the main room and the living room murals formed a complete set.

“So that’s why—when I reached a certain point, my body felt off. Turns out they’re a pair.

Can it really enhance physical control?” Lin Shan wondered to himself.

“By the way, you distracted me—I forgot, my father just told me to call you to eat! The dishes are plentiful today!” Ruoxi thought her father seemed in exceptionally good spirits, preparing many dishes.

“Your father invited me to eat? Are you sure?” Yesterday, Lin Feng had greeted him with a stern face; why the sudden change today, inviting him to dine?

Lin Shan’s first reaction was disbelief; the pain from yesterday still lingered in his memory, unforgettable.

“No mistake. Father asked Aunt Mei to prepare a feast—it looks delicious!” Ruoxi stuck out her tongue and licked her lips, clearly craving the meal.

“He’s not going to invite me only to beat me up again, is he?” Lin Shan took a step back, visibly nervous.

“No worries, father really wants you to eat! He won’t hurt you! Don’t be afraid,” Ruoxi reassured him, grabbing Lin Shan’s hand to pull him toward the dining room.

Pulled along by Ruoxi, Lin Shan felt bewildered. He couldn’t understand why Lin Feng had suddenly invited him, nor whether he might be used as a sparring partner again.

Ruoxi led Lin Shan through the courtyard, and as they neared the main hall, his mood gradually calmed. He thought, since he was here, he might as well accept his fate.

He had chosen this “special job”—there was no turning back.

The main hall was only a few steps from the courtyard, and they soon arrived at the dining area.

“The master is waiting for you inside!” Aunt Mei gestured invitingly at the door.

“Ruoxi, you’re here! Sit, both of you!” Lin Feng smiled at them.

Ruoxi glanced at Lin Feng, then at Lin Shan, giving him a gentle smile before sitting to Lin Feng’s left.

Lin Shan hesitated, looking toward Lin Feng’s right, where the seat was empty.

There were only five chairs in the room, and in Lin Shan’s mind, only five could sit there: Lin Feng, the eldest daughter, Ruoxi, and Ruoxi’s mother—Lin Feng’s wife.

He assumed there was no place for him, but his gaze lingered on Lin Feng’s right, directly opposite Ruoxi.

Seeing so many empty seats, Lin Shan chose the most ordinary spot—opposite Ruoxi, to Lin Feng’s right—and sat down naturally. After all, he’d been invited; he couldn’t very well eat standing.

He pulled out the chair and sat, facing Lin Feng’s blank expression. Ruoxi smiled at Lin Shan, as if wanting to say something, but held back.

Lin Feng observed Lin Shan’s actions without reaction, allowing him to sit.

After Ruoxi and Lin Shan were seated, Lin Feng picked up a vegetable leaf from the platter and spoke,

“As my sparring partner, basic martial arts are essential.

You must be stronger than ordinary people. I don’t need you to bring glory to our family, but you cannot be useless. If you are, you’ll have to leave.”

His words were unwavering; as he finished, the leaf disappeared into his mouth, swallowed, and his imposing aura dissipated instantly.

“I practice martial arts to protect myself—even as someone’s sparring partner, I need the ability to defend myself when in danger!” Lin Shan replied firmly, without hesitation.

“To protect others? You can’t even protect yourself—how do you expect to protect anyone else?” Lin Feng sneered at him.

“I couldn’t protect myself before, but now, things may be different!” Lin Shan said with confidence. After the recent changes, he felt his body had transformed.

He might not be able to protect others yet, but at least he could defend himself.

Ruoxi smiled at Lin Shan, noticing the clear change in him—not just in his attitude, but in his entire demeanor, from the inside out.

“Good!” Lin Feng slapped his palm on the table. The dishes rattled in response; among them, the prized roast suckling pig, its golden skin stretching from snout to tail, yellow juices pooling beneath, splashing droplets.

The sound of water was gentle, not a single drop spilled, as other dishes followed.

Ruoxi’s mouth hung open, her gaze dreamy, as if recalling memories of eating with her mother...

In that moment, Lin Shan felt Lin Feng was towering, the wind ceased, the leaves stopped swaying, and the world seemed to fall silent.

In the quiet, Lin Feng spoke mysteriously,

“In this world, no one can truly claim to protect themselves—except that person.”

“Who is that person?” Lin Shan asked without hesitation.

“You aren’t qualified to know yet. All you need to know is that he is the one who will save the world,” Lin Feng answered, glancing at the sky and feigning profundity.

Lin Shan was speechless, feeling he had no room to argue, whether Lin Feng was provoking him or simply making an offhand remark.