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Early October.
One afternoon at the martial arts school, Duan Tianxing, who had been absent for nearly a week, hurriedly returned with strange news.
"I found your grandmaster."
Grandmaster?
Li Xiang didn't react at first until Duan Yu and the others showed shocked expressions. Then he realized who Duan Tianxing was talking about.
Grandmaster Yan Tianyin—like Duan Tianxing, he belonged to the "Tian" generation. In the past, the school had ranked disciples by generational names, but that tradition had long since faded.
After all, the martial arts school had declined so much.
"He opened a school in Sakura Island, renamed Beng Quan as 'Zhenxing Ryu,' and had over three hundred disciples… He passed away three days ago."
Duan Tianxing spoke without a trace of sorrow or joy on his face.
According to him, twenty-seven years ago, Yan Tianyin, then twenty-eight years old, entrusted the school to Duan Tianxing, who was only twenty-five at the time, and set off across Zhu Xia in search of a true martial arts capital.
But absurdly, Yan Tianyin was attacked by an unknown Pokémon in the wild and lost his memory—even forgetting his own name.
The only thing that remained in his mind was his lifelong dream of spreading Beng Quan.
And even though his memories were blurred, his body still instinctively executed Beng Quan and the spear techniques of Zhenxing's Eight Arts with perfect fluidity.
Beng Quan had been carved deep into his bones. Even without his memories, he could still reflexively exhale sharply, step forward with a punch, shift his body for a follow-up strike, raise his elbow for a crushing blow—
Every movement flowed naturally, ingrained into his muscle memory and subconscious.
With no money and no other skills, the amnesiac Yan Tianyin had no choice but to rely on his martial arts to survive in the underbelly of society.
Fortunately, after many twists and turns, he met his wife. With her help, he traveled to Sakura Island, where the spirit of martial arts was thriving at the time, and earned the admiration of his father-in-law.
Thus, Zhenxing Ryu was born.
With his father-in-law's support, the style took root in Sakura Island. Over twenty years, it gained a solid foothold there.
At its peak, Zhenxing Ryu had over five thousand disciples.
If not for the declining interest in martial arts among the younger generation in recent years, Zhenxing Ryu's reputation could have grown even further.
The reason Yan Tianyin never contacted Duan Tianxing all these years was simple—he genuinely couldn't remember that he had left a junior brother behind, waiting for his return.
Even after losing his memory, for some reason, he never sought out his past. Instead, he devoted himself to teaching Zhenxing Ryu in Sakura Island.
Until two years ago.
Yan Tianyin was diagnosed with terminal lung cancer. Years of neglecting old injuries left him beyond medical help—even Pokémon with healing abilities couldn't stop the spread of the cancer.
With his life slipping away, Yan Tianyin finally grew curious about his origins and asked his disciples to investigate his past.
Finally, two months ago, they found the Zhenxing Martial Arts School—a nearly forgotten place in Qingcheng, Yuzhou.
And Duan Tianxing, now with streaks of white in his hair, stepping into the twilight of his life.
After several days of deliberation, Duan Tianxing decided to travel to Sakura Island to see his senior brother one last time.
To be honest, after nearly thirty years apart, Duan Tianxing almost didn't recognize Yan Tianyin.
The changes were too drastic.
But when Yan Tianyin saw Duan Tianxing, it was like a dam breaking in his mind—his memories came flooding back. First, his face reddened, then his eyes.
—A final surge of clarity before death.
Ignoring his family's protests, Yan Tianyin stayed up all night talking with Duan Tianxing. The next morning, he managed to eat a little, sip some tea, play with his grandchildren, and meet all his disciples one last time.
Then, facing the direction of his hometown—Qingcheng—he sat cross-legged, practicing meditative breathing just as he had in his childhood.
And with a smile, he passed away.
Duan Tianxing stayed by the coffin for a day, mourning under the silent approval of Yan Tianyin's son.
The next day, he boarded a plane back to Qingcheng.
And that was the story of Duan Tianxing's journey.
"Grandmaster… never returned to Qingcheng?"
Lu Chengfeng's expression was complicated.
Like people in his past life, Zhuxians valued burial in their homeland—returning to their roots. By tradition, Yan Tianyin's remains should have been brought back to Qingcheng.
Duan Tianxing didn't answer. Outwardly, he remained stoic, but inwardly, he was still lost in the memories of his final conversation with Yan Tianyin.
The older he got, the softer his heart became.
Yan Tianyin had initially wanted to be cremated and buried at the Zhenxing Ryu dojo, but he couldn't sway his wife. In the end, he remained in Sakura Island, to be buried beside her in the future.
The most Duan Tianxing could do was enshrine his name in the ancestral hall, where future generations of the school could pay their respects.
Wang Dong opened his mouth as if to say something, but ultimately stayed silent.
Duan Yu looked at Duan Tianxing, then at the other three, and asked, "Grandpa… Master, does the Zhenxing Ryu in Sakura Island count as part of our lineage?"
"Yes."
Duan Tianxing answered without hesitation. Then, after a pause, added, "But not entirely."
Zhenxing had Eight Arts, but Yan Tianyin had only mastered two—fist and spear—before leaving.
Only Duan Tianxing had learned all eight, though he modestly claimed to know only a little of each.
"Then what about his school—"
"Zhenxing Ryu will be inherited by his son-in-law and continue in Sakura Island." Duan Tianxing cut Duan Yu off, glancing at the four of them. "Both lineages are legitimate heirs of Beng Quan."
Duan Yu bit his lip, stopping himself from suggesting that someone from Sakura Island should come and take over the school.
That would just be asking for a beating.
But he also knew that none of the seven disciples here had any real interest in inheriting the school itself.
After recounting his week-long journey, Duan Tianxing waved them off and silently retreated to the backyard.
Given his mood, he might isolate himself for a few days.
But just as Li Xiang, deep in thought, instinctively moved toward the wooden training dummy—
Duan Tianxing, halfway out the door, suddenly called him over.
Backyard.
Duan Tianxing led Li Xiang into a small room.
The old master sat down, and Li Xiang, without being told, picked up the teapot on the table and poured him a cup.
"Freshly brewed. Still warm. Drink slowly."
Li Xiang spoke softly.
Duan Tianxing lifted his eyelids, glanced at him, took a sip, and seemed lost in thought.
Li Xiang stood to the side, unsure why he had been summoned. After about ten seconds, he asked, "Master?"
"...How long have you been at this school?"
"About sixteen months."
Li Xiang did the math—sixteen months sounded right.
Duan Tianxing set down his teacup. "Sixteen months. What have you learned?"
A classic master's question.
Li Xiang calmly listed his progress, avoiding empty flattery—Duan Tianxing didn't care for that.
It took him about three minutes to finish.
Duan Tianxing nodded noncommittally, then after a moment, asked, "Do you know what I thought when you first joined?"
Li Xiang honestly shook his head.
"I thought about the strangeness in you."
The old master continued, "In fact, if Xu Zhen hadn't begged me, I wouldn't have taken you in."
Li Xiang's enrollment in the Zhenxing Martial Arts School had been part of a deal between Li Zhehan and Xu Dongran.
Li Zhehan had brought something—and certain people—back to Zhuxia. In exchange, Xu Dongran gave him a Riolu with immense potential and a position as a personal disciple in the school.
Li Xiang had learned about this earlier in the year.
Duan Tianxing's words didn't faze him—his Three-Blind Perception Technique was working well.
"You've trained well."
Duan Tianxing offered rare praise, then immediately followed up with, "But your talent for martial arts is clearly lacking. You must realize this yourself."
Li Xiang: "..."
After ruthlessly stabbing him in the heart,
The old master continued, "Originally, I planned to have you practice Beng Quan for three years. Fistwork can reveal a person's character—what kind of man you are can be seen in your Beng Quan."
Wait, martial arts can do that in this world?
Li Xiang stayed silent, baffled by how mystical this world's martial arts seemed.
"But when you mastered Beng Quan recently, I realized I didn't need to wait three years."
Duan Tianxing stopped at the most critical moment.
Li Xiang's heartbeat quickened.
What does this mean?
Is he expelling me?
Does he think I'm too dumb? Or did he see something in my fists?
Unexpectedly, Duan Tianxing reached into his robe and pulled out a piece of jade, slightly larger than a coin.
"This is one part of a jade I obtained in my youth. I gave the other six to your senior brothers and sisters. This last piece—"
He placed it on the table and pushed it toward Li Xiang. "—is yours."
"From today onward, you are a personal disciple of the Zhenxing Martial Arts School… and my final closed-door disciple."
So I was just a temp worker all along?
Li Xiang silently cursed in his mind, but outwardly, he maintained a solemn expression. He accepted the jade, hung it around his neck, took two steps back, and kowtowed twice to Duan Tianxing.
"Thank you, Master."
"Rise."
Duan Tianxing exhaled deeply. "Tomorrow, you will choose one of the remaining Seven Arts as your secondary discipline. Think carefully tonight and tell me your decision tomorrow. Go."
Li Xiang nodded and left.
He wasn't arrogant enough to declare he'd learn all eight. When Duan Tianxing said he only knew "a little" of each, that was humility.
If Li Xiang tried to learn all eight, he'd truly end up knowing only a little.
Main Hall.
The other three immediately gathered around him, asking what had happened.
Without a word, Li Xiang pulled out the jade pendant from his chest.
Duan Yu and the others instantly understood and began helping him analyze which of the Seven Arts he should choose.
Duan Yu specialized in staff.
Lu Chengfeng in sword.
Wang Dong in axe.
Jiang Shangrou in blade.
Qi Sunsun in hook.
Bai Zhi in spear.
That left only halberd unclaimed—as if reserved for Li Xiang.
"If Third Senior Sister is such a genius, why didn't she learn more?"
Li Xiang was curious.
Duan Tianxing had called her a once-in-a-generation martial arts prodigy. Learning all eight shouldn't have been difficult for her.
"She didn't want to."
Lu Chengfeng shrugged. "She said she wouldn't split her focus until she reached the realm of 'cutting intent, not flesh' with the blade."
…Did I accidentally stumble into a wuxia novel?
Li Xiang resisted the urge to facepalm. "Well, I'm not learning halberd. Single or double-handed, I don't like heavy weapons."
"No one's forcing you." Duan Yu rolled his eyes. "Learn staff with me. Your Riolu will need it in the future anyway."
(Bonemerang.)
That… actually made sense.
Li Xiang was tempted, but Lu Chengfeng cut in, "Don't listen to him! Learn sword with me—graceful, agile, and most importantly, cool! Besides, Pokémon can learn staff techniques separately!"
Right!
Trainers and Pokémon didn't have to learn the same weapon.
Li Xiang wavered.
Wang Dong opened his mouth but stayed silent—his axe was a heavy weapon, already ruled out. The square-faced boy looked a little dejected.
Meanwhile, Duan Yu and Lu Chengfeng started arguing over whether staff or sword was better, nearly coming to blows.
Li Xiang watched them, then thought of Jiang Shangrou.
"Senior Brothers, I've made my decision."
He stopped them, and under their expectant gazes, flashed a bright smile.
"I'll learn the blade—a short-handled, long-bladed saber."