Chapter Thirteen: The Ten Champions of the Divine Martial Arena

Bu Jingxian ignored his presence and continued with his own practice. When he grew tired, he would simply lie down and sleep, not even remembering whether Shaoyuan was still around.

He slept through the night until the first light crept over the horizon. Upon waking, he saw Shaoyuan had gathered some branches and leaves to make a bed and was sleeping on the ground.

Four or five days passed in this manner, and every day Shaoyuan followed him persistently. When Bu Jingxian practiced, Shaoyuan would imitate him, flailing his fists and kicking his legs in a haphazard manner. When Bu Jingxian meditated, Shaoyuan would sit on the ground, eyes wide open, daydreaming. Whenever Bu Jingxian glanced at him, he would break into a foolish grin.

On this day, Bu Jingxian was testing his strength, using his sword to cut falling leaves. In an instant, cold light flashed as the leaves were sliced into fragments, which, propelled by his energy, shot in all directions—like a flurry of hidden weapons or a sudden bloom of flowers. Shaoyuan, delighted by the spectacle, cheered and leaped about, waving his fists as though Bu Jingxian were a street performer.

The scattered leaf fragments, guided by Bu Jingxian's force, circled back and gently floated to the ground as the long sword completed its arc and the energy dissipated.

This was a sword technique from the Shadow Sutra. Bu Jingxian did not even know its formal name, but he had seen disciples who practiced the Shadow Sutra train in this fashion and had pondered over how to achieve the same effect. This attempt was more successful than a year ago; his use of Yin force felt more fluid and natural. Just as he was feeling satisfied, he heard Shaoyuan’s loud, excited calls growing nearer. Shaoyuan ran over, kicking the leaf fragments, then took out his sword and swung it around wildly.

Bu Jingxian moved away to a quieter spot to meditate and practice.

He was surprised by the persistence of Shaoyuan’s enthusiasm. After two hours of meditation, Bu Jingxian opened his eyes to find Shaoyuan still playing with the leaf fragments.

Such tireless yet futile effort, fueled by such boundless enthusiasm, made Bu Jingxian almost pity him. At last, he reminded him, “Without learning the internal methods and building a foundation of inner strength, you will never succeed.”

“Then teach me,” Shaoyuan replied, running over and kneeling before Bu Jingxian, his face full of earnestness. A moment later, remembering the formalities of seeking a master, he kowtowed and added, “Master, please teach me.”

Bu Jingxian could only smile wryly and remind him, “Of all those on North Spirit Mountain, I am the lowest in martial skill, the one who has learned the least from the Sect Leader, the only one who has never been formally taught moves, and my internal strength is the weakest. The Sect Leader offered to teach you and you refused, and you were careless with the guidance of other, more skilled juniors. Now you’re begging to learn from me? Isn’t that rather foolish, don’t you think?”

“My senior looks down on me, beats me, scolds me…”

Before he could finish, Bu Jingxian cut him off impatiently, “That’s because your stupidity is infuriating. If someone teaches you and you still can’t learn, of course they’ll get angry and scold you. Do you think that’s their fault?”

Shaoyuan fell silent at once. Seeing this, Bu Jingxian told him to get up, saying, “Let’s see if you’re really as hopeless as the rumors say.”

Shaoyuan didn’t mind this comment at all. He jumped up happily, took a stance, and began punching and kicking. Bu Jingxian stopped him, saying, “I don’t want to see you flailing about. Watch.” He then tried to teach Shaoyuan how to channel his energy into his movements, but Shaoyuan only relied on brute force, swinging and kicking aimlessly. Bu Jingxian had to stop him again and decided to demonstrate the difference between raw strength and proper energy use.

Unexpectedly, as soon as they squared off, Shaoyuan froze with fear, then collapsed onto the ground, wailing.

“Waaaah… Don’t hit me…!”

Bu Jingxian watched him cry, speechless. How could anyone teach such a person? No wonder Lingluo always shook his head with a sigh when mentioning Shaoyuan. At first, Bu Jingxian stood by and watched him cry; later he simply sat and waited. After a quarter of an hour, Shaoyuan’s sobs finally faded. He wiped his nose and tears, then sat before Bu Jingxian and called him “Master.”

“What are you afraid of?”

“I’m afraid you’ll hit me.”

“So what if I do?”

“It hurts.”

Bu Jingxian wanted to ignore him, but as he looked at Shaoyuan’s blank, expectant gaze, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of kinship.

“If you want to learn from me, you’ll have to take a beating. Every morning, the first thing you must do is endure a beating. Only when you’re no longer afraid of pain can you stop. If you’re scared, then leave.” If Shaoyuan couldn’t overcome his fear of injury, there was no way he could practice. Bu Jingxian saw no other way—otherwise, he simply couldn’t teach him.

“Why must Master beat me…” Shaoyuan’s fear was palpable at the mention of a beating.

“Because you’re afraid of pain.”

Shaoyuan immediately shrank back, staring at Bu Jingxian from a distance. Bu Jingxian ignored him and continued his training.

Yet Shaoyuan still followed him everywhere, copying whatever he did. Whenever Bu Jingxian offered to teach him, he nervously asked if it would involve getting beaten.

After seven or eight days of this, Bu Jingxian decided drastic measures were needed. Expecting Shaoyuan to overcome his fear on his own was futile. One day, he called Shaoyuan over as he was still flailing about, and asked, “Do you really want to learn from me?” Shaoyuan grinned and nodded eagerly.

“Very well!” As Bu Jingxian finished speaking, he threw a punch that sent Shaoyuan spinning to the ground, who began wailing in shock and pain. With a cold expression, Bu Jingxian followed up with a kick, asking, “Does it hurt?”

Shaoyuan could only cry and scream incoherently, unable to answer. Bu Jingxian didn’t let up, continuing to kick and beat him for a full quarter of an hour. Only when Shaoyuan was nearly out of strength from crying did he finally beg for mercy. “It hurts! Please, Master, no more…”

“If it hurts, then you need more.”

Bu Jingxian continued striking him with a branch and his foot. Shaoyuan tried to escape, scrambling up and covering his head, but after a few steps, Bu Jingxian flicked a branch at a pressure point on his leg, making him collapse.

“It doesn’t hurt, Master, please stop, I’m not hurt anymore…”

“If it doesn’t hurt, then be quiet.”

Shaoyuan tried yet again to run, shouting his protests, even angrily declaring he didn’t want to learn anymore. Bu Jingxian paid him no mind—a disciple who both worships and betrays his master deserves punishment. After a full hour, Bu Jingxian wasn’t tired in the slightest, but Shaoyuan, having exhausted all means of escape, finally tried to endure the pain in hopes Bu Jingxian would stop.

At last, after silently enduring for a quarter of an hour, no longer running or crying out, Bu Jingxian finally stopped. He told Shaoyuan to follow him to the medicine hall. Shaoyuan followed in silence, clearly resentful and aggrieved.

Bu Jingxian first washed his head and body outside the medicine hall, then applied ointment to his wounds. They were all superficial; Bu Jingxian had taken care not to injure his muscles or bones.

“Does it still hurt?”

Shaoyuan remained mute.

Bu Jingxian chuckled, “See, pain is nothing to fear.”

Since Shaoyuan still refused to speak, Bu Jingxian said no more. After applying the medicine, he took Shaoyuan to the kitchen for a meal. Once they had eaten and rested, they went to the rear cliff to practice energy control. At first, Shaoyuan looked as if he were about to cry, but at Bu Jingxian’s stern look, he forced himself to remain calm.

“That’s better. When you can’t escape a beating by crying, you’re left with only one choice: to face it, to endure it, and to overcome your fear of pain.”

With that, he demonstrated how to channel energy more effectively. It was just the basics, but the results were immediate. When Shaoyuan tried punching, he instantly felt his blows were several times stronger than before. He broke into a silly grin, enthusiastically following Bu Jingxian’s instructions.

Bu Jingxian realized that Shaoyuan was not truly slow-witted—he was simply stubborn and unwilling to listen, and his excessive fear of pain made others reluctant to teach him. In fact, once the methods were explained and demonstrated, he learned quickly. After a single day, Bu Jingxian taught him the Soul Sutra’s internal method. In the Divine Soul Sect, all disciples could take on students, though there were certain sect rules. Teaching Shaoyuan was not an issue.

From that day onward, Shaoyuan practiced with Bu Jingxian every day. Shaoyuan was not fond of asking questions. When Bu Jingxian told him to meditate and practice the internal method, he would sit cross-legged with eyes closed until Bu Jingxian said they were done.

Within half a month, he had mastered the first stage of the Soul Sutra. By then, his punches could make a large tree shake. He grew ever closer to Bu Jingxian, and though his fear of pain flared up twice more and he took his beatings, he bore no resentment. Nor did he know to express gratitude or filial piety in any special way, but Bu Jingxian didn’t mind. They spent their days training together, barely noticing how quickly time passed.

Three months later, Elder North Spirit returned to the mountain with a group of disciples.

As expected, the Flying Immortal Sect’s reputation shook the world. In the autumn, Elder Autumn Leaf outshone all rivals, defeating the Black Wolf Army’s first champion, Carl, in a decisive battle—forcing him from the ring after 230 moves. According to returning disciples, Carl’s face was ashen with humiliation, so much so that he nearly committed suicide, only to be restrained by eight of his disciples, who pleaded with him in utter embarrassment.

The battle at the Divine Martial Arena made the Flying Immortal Sect’s name resound even louder. Everyone said that Zheng Feixian’s disciples were also the best in the world. Autumn Leaf’s fame soared. He was received by King Zheng, who bestowed upon him a yellow robe of honor, appointed him Martial Honor of Zheng, granted him a high official’s pay, and had civil and military officials salute him. Banquets were held for ten days in celebration of his achievements.

The Divine Martial Arena gave the world’s top martial artists a chance to gather and compete. In the past, there were thousands of wandering heroes and masters throughout the land. Aside from Zheng Feixian, renowned for his countless battles and universally acknowledged as the world’s greatest master—earning the honorific “Step by Step Startling Immortal, Each Palm Shatters the Heavens”—the rankings of second and third were always hotly debated. Most martial artists considered North Martial Sect and Sword Mountain Sect as second and third.

This contest produced the ten greatest martial artists in the land.

Zheng Feixian’s position as number one was unshakable. He was regarded as a godlike figure, incomparable to anyone else. The ten champions of the Divine Martial Arena were hailed as the ten strongest martial artists in the realm.

The champion was Autumn Leaf of the Flying Immortal Sect.

Second place went to Carl, the Black Wolf Tribe’s top expert, who lost to Autumn Leaf in the finals.

Third was Ye Feiluo, known as the Sword Saint of Eastern Yan, the leader of the North Martial Sect.

Fourth was Wei Wuquan, called the Sword God of Northern Wei, the head of the Huashan branch of Sword Mountain Sect.

Both the Sword Saint of Eastern Yan and the Sword God of Northern Wei were defeated by Autumn Leaf, so martial artists did not believe their skills were necessarily inferior to Carl’s. Though ranked third and fourth, many viewed them as nearly equal to Carl.

Fifth was Elder Winter Snow of the Flying Immortal Sect.

Sixth was Zheng Qiangwu, known as Sea-Turning Palm, the top fighter of the Flying Immortal Sect’s Twelve Halls.

Seventh was Cha Xiaogai, called Mad Sword, an expert from the Huashan branch of Sword Mountain Sect.

Eighth was Wu Fei, called Dancing Sword, a master from the Hengshan branch of Sword Mountain Sect.

Ninth was Ming Gang, known as the Immovable King, a top disciple of the North Martial Sect.

Tenth was Ren Qingyi, known as the True Sword Immortal, another expert of the North Martial Sect.

Aside from these, many others made their names at the Divine Martial Arena—though defeated, they were honored in defeat. However, some argued that since only the major sects were invited to the competition, and not the famous wandering heroes from across the land, this ranking of the top ten could not be considered definitive.

Be that as it may, Autumn Leaf’s attainment of the Martial Honor was an undeniable fact.