Chang Heng’s fist hit his cousin with a low thud, now even making him budge.

  He was now out of Qi, and his breathing was suddenly harder, as if he had just ran up the stairs. He could use the technique at most one, maybe two times, before he’d pass out from exhaustion.

  “Let’s stop for today, Cou-”

  “No. You are finally starting to get it, I’m not going to waste it. You’re untalented enough that if you stop now, you’ll not understand the point tomorrow. You get two minutes of break.”

  The boy wanted to say no, but couldn’t bring himself to.

  So he forced himself to sit down and meditate, trying to recover all the Qi and stamina he could in that brief time.

  He got back a percentage of both before having to get up.

  In the next session, Chang Jian was back to pummeling him with weaker hits, but all of them strong enough that he had to use some of his Qi to block them properly. When he managed to see their trajectory, he stepped together with them to reduce their impact.

  “Decent.”

  “Bad timing.”

  “Hit back.”

  “You should have noticed this.”

  “This was easy, come on.”

  “Hit back!”

  Chang Heng felt under more and more pressure as time passed. His cousin had kept using the same few combinations of attacks, to the point even he noticed the openings, but had also got so annoyed that the strength and speed made them impossible to exploit.

  “Bah! You are doing it, but you’re doing it so badly I’d feel better if you didn’t.”

  They finally paused.

  “What… what do you mean?”

  “What I wanted to show you is that you can abuse your stamina and defence to overcome your lack of talent, slowly learning your enemy's moves and then countering them. But you are so slow and bad at it that your own stamina ends before you can do it!

  And the one punch you gave me sucked. And I mean, sucked. You are so bad, you make me angry. Which is not easy. I can see you are almost bottomed out, we’ll do one last thing, and then we are done for today.”

  The image Chang Heng had of the boy at first was shattered. When he saw his cousin in the courtyard, he seemed almost inhumanly under control, with an ethereal grace belonging to heroes of legends.

  And he managed to destroy the image in under a couple of hours, for the worst reasons.

  “Y-yes, Cou-”

  “Don’t answer. You don't get to. You don’t deserve to, not to me. I have no idea why my father or the old relic like you, but I don’t. Take a stance, now. I’ll attack your left side, use everything you have.”

  The cold, disgusted tone put the boy under more pressure than ever, as he raised his left arm and supported it with the right one.

  This is gonna be bad.

  Chang Jian took a simple stance: arms kept low, close to the body, right foot hidden behind the left foot.

  “Do not hold back, or this won’t end well.”

  The plant of the right foot scraped the ground for an instant before being raised, as a rain of sparks was revealed under it.

  An explosion of light and sound erupted under it, and it sped through the air faster than his student could see.

  Flint’s Ignition!

  Chang Heng hurried to use [Three Layers Defence] and infuse all his leftover Qi before he was flown away, feeling as if his arms had been ripped away, sailing in the air and repeatedly hitting the ground until he fell on Old Man Ling, barely conscious.

  There wasn't a single inch of him that didn't hurt, from his head, to his chest, and his limbs.

  He groaned, not even trying to get up.

  A bony finger tapped on his chin.

  “I don't like this much physical contact,” an ancient voice said “move away, boy.”

  He opened his eyes to that same dark expression that scared him two weeks earlier.

  He did what he could to roll on the side, his head hitting the wooden floor of the patio as he cursed under his breath.

  “Wow, you managed not to get knocked out. That is impressive, and for once not in a bad way.”

  “Not really, kid. We focused entirely on his survivability when designing every single element of his cultivation. If he hadn't resisted a hit like that, we'd have failed completely, and condemned him to an early death.

  Stolen novel; please report.

  And I don't want him to die early.”

  “I'm still in the middle of the Acclimation stage, using a technique, and a fighting prodigy. Please don't insult me like that.”

  “You did not go out in any of those things, so none of those things truly mattered. I am insulting no one.”

  “Touché.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It's a way to say that you are right.”

  “I know I am right, or I wouldn't have said it.”

  The man used a harsh tone, yet Chang Jian only smiled more.

  “You really don't like me, do you?”

  “I simply have no interest in your talents.”

  He said this with the same expressionless face the boy and his father had seen their whole life. A few times they had seen him annoyed, and his passion was more felt in his Qi than when they intruded.

  At some point in the conversation, Chang Heng had fallen asleep.

  …

  He woke up in a bed, a rarity in those days. He was in a small room, with the same servant who brought him to the library taking care of his wounds and bruises. Looking out of the window, the Blue Moon and countless stars waited there.

  How come that since I awakened, I’m so often sleeping during the day, and not at night?

  He thanked the woman and let her go away, even if he was still hurting. After the humiliation of the day, he just wanted to focus on his cultivation once again.

  Yet he only had a few breaths alone before his parents barged in the room, both doting on him and criticising him for his recklessness, they hadn’t taught him that…

  When they were done with the scolding, they made sure he slept enough and ate for once, something weirdly uncommon those last couple of weeks.

  He took the morning to cultivate, keeping his slow but steady progression, until he couldn’t keep going. When he was done, he met the two older Cultivators of his clan to be trained in their respective expertises.

  …

  The next afternoon, he was again in the courtyard. He had tried to convince the patriarch that he didn’t want or need the training, yet he was the one convinced back that he did. The clan would be sponsoring his participation in the tournament, so he’d need to be at least somewhat decent.

  A tournament and having to help deal with beast waves, and so I’m stuck with this… getting beaten down everyday, what a training!

  Chang Jian greeted him with a cheeky smile.

  “Today, you'll be the one to attack. Not only was your punch yesterday bad, but you also held back. I'll make sure you won't make this mistake again.”

  The words were accompanied by him taking the opposite of a stance: he took a relaxed posture and spread his arms, waiting and welcoming.

  “Come, Cousin. I’ll show you what you didn’t learn yesterday about defence.”

  Chang Heng rushed at him, ready for revenge.

  The first punch missed, as it was dodged easily.

  The second missed again, and he stumbled, hearing a snort as he did.

  The third blocked, the fourth deviated into making him fall.

  “Come ooon… You can do this! I believe in you!”

  That was the most mocking support he ever received, the playful tone annoying. He couldn’t help but think of his sister. Our family sure is filled with annoying people…

  He kept going, but made sure not to exceed in his attacks and get thrown on the ground. More than the pain, that he was used to, the humiliation was his main motivator.

  The following hours had their roles swapped from the day before: Chang Jian only focused on defence and dodging, laughing and taunting his cousin every time he missed, annoying him to no end.

  At first his punches were shy and safe, but as his anger grew, he fought more and more aggressively, wilder and wilder swings one after another.

  None of them connected, and those that were blocked didn't even faze the bigger boy.

  He was insulted on his incompetence, laughed at his movements, and complimented on how incredibly weak and pointless his hits were.

  He had no offensive technique to try and use, so all he could use was the occasional Qi-infused punch or lunge, only to receive the same reaction.

  Even the old man stopped watching, focusing instead on some books by his side.

  I can't… do this.

  He was exhausted, panting, his arms hard to keep raised just like the day before.

  Something has to change. I can't beat him in strength, speed or skill. I'll have to use something else.

  He tried mixing in kicks, knees, and even headbutts when he got desperate, sparing not an ounce of Qi as he used everything he had.

  Chang Jian kept smiling and taunting him, regardless of what he did.

  Eventually, he ended bottomed out, no Qi and barely able to stand.

  “Hen-Hen, we're done for today. You still suck, but at least you're learning to give your all.”

  Chang Heng stopped moving. This was his chance.

  “No… I can… huff… keep going.”

  “I admire your tenacity, but there's no point. You even bored out your beloved relic, let alone me.”

  Chang Ling was back to watching, expressionless as always.

  “Don't drag me in this, kid.”

  “Sorry, sorry. Well then, I'm going. I also need to train.”

  “Go to hell. You don't get to call me Hen-Hen.”

  He swung a measly punch, weaker and sloppier than even those before. It ended without fanfare. The old man took some notes.

  “Learn when to give up. I'm not as compassionate as my father.”

  His arm didn't move. Chang Heng had grabbed it. But there was no strength in his grip.

  Chang Jian needed but a simple twist of his arm to shrug him-

  He didn't come off, his hand now a vice, enhanced with Qi he wasn't supposed to have.

  An instant of surprise caught Chang Jian as he was unable to move, and the fist finally connected.

  Pride swelled inside him as he talked.

  “You're finally starting to grasp it! Ha!”

  He punched back for the first time that day, sending him across the courtyard with just the strength of his body.

  “This is what you're supposed to do with your weird build. Change the rules of the fight so that they suit you.”

  He walked to Chang Heng, gave him a light slap to wake him up, and kept going.

  “Tomorrow I'm back on the offensive. And you'll explain to me where that Qi came from.”

  He went to his rooms, not caring about the boy cursing him from the ground.

  …