https://novelcool.info/chapter/Chapter-125-Relocation-Transformation-and-the-Act-of-Becoming-a-Disciple/13688287/
Chapter 126: Yi Qi Gun Fa
Lu Qing had no idea that, after he left, Ma Gu had actually become the Master of Wei Xiao Gongzi.
Upon returning home, he kept a careful watch for several days, and found no suspicious figures lurking around the village. The incident involving the white-robed youth’s death must still be hidden from the public.
Two days later, he packed up a few things and made his way to Ma Gu’s hidden hideout.
As he stepped into the cave, he was startled to find Ma Gu solemnly training Wei Xiao Gongzi in horse stance—something utterly unexpected.
Once he learned the reason, however, he couldn’t help but feel happy for Ma Gu.
“Master Ma, congratulations—you’ve gained a truly promising disciple.”
Farther away, Wei Xiao Gongzi was still locked in his stance, breathing heavily, while Wei Fu Ren watched over him with quiet vigilance.
Lu Qing stood to one side, chatting casually with Ma Gu.
Given the Wei Family’s illustrious lineage, it was no small honor for Ma Gu to become Wei Xiao Gongzi’s Master. Of course, the real question remained: could the Wei Family survive this crisis?
“Lu Qing, don’t tease me,” Ma Gu said with a wry smile. “I know my own limits. I’m afraid I’ll fail him if I teach him poorly.”
“It’s fine,” Lu Qing replied. “Just take it step by step. As long as you help Young Master An build a solid foundation, you’ll be doing the right thing.”
“That’s exactly what I thought,” Ma Gu said. “So I’ve been having him practice horse stance every day—building his qi and stamina. He’s done remarkably well. Honestly, I’m surprised. His natural talent for martial arts is better than I expected. Once he focuses, he grasps the principles of qi circulation almost instantly. He might break through to Qi Xue Jing Xia Cheng in no time.”
Wei Xiao Gongzi’s real name was Wei Zian. Now that Ma Gu was his Master, it was no longer appropriate to call him “Young Master.” The title was reserved for formal occasions.
“Oh? That’s excellent. Then why the long face?” Lu Qing asked, genuinely surprised.
“The better his talent, the more anxious I become,” Ma Gu admitted. “What kind of martial art should I teach him?”
“That’s simple,” Lu Qing said. “Just ask him what he likes. Then teach him that.”
He knew Ma Gu was skilled in swordplay and had a strong grasp of broadsword techniques.
“I already asked,” Ma Gu said, his expression turning slightly odd. “But his preferences… are a bit unusual.”
“Unusual?” Lu Qing raised an eyebrow.
“He likes staff techniques,” Ma Gu sighed. “But I know practically nothing about them. How can I possibly teach him?”
“Staff?” Lu Qing’s face twisted in mild astonishment.
He hadn’t expected the delicate, pale-faced Wei Zian—so refined and gentle—to be drawn to the staff.
Most noble-born youths preferred elegant weapons: swords, daggers, or jade fans—graceful, refined styles befitting their status.
“I was shocked too,” Ma Gu continued. “But he said… during the time I was being chased, when I left, he held a wooden stick and guarded his mother all alone in the cave. That stick was his only weapon, his only comfort. So he vowed, once he had the chance, he’d master a truly powerful staff art—so he could protect her.”
Lu Qing fell silent.
Well… that explanation was a little far-fetched, but not entirely unreasonable.
Still, staff arts…
Seeing Ma Gu’s troubled expression, Lu Qing paused, then said, “I actually know one. Whether Wei Zian will find it interesting is another matter.”
“Lu Qing, you know a staff technique?” Ma Gu’s eyes widened in disbelief.
“Just a little,” Lu Qing said casually. “A few days ago, I was bored, so I picked up some basic martial arts from my Master and practiced for fun.”
“….” Ma Gu stared at him in stunned silence.
Was that even real?
What kind of person says they practice martial arts “just for fun”?
He’d always believed that extraordinary progress in martial cultivation came only from relentless, unwavering effort—no breaks, no distractions.
But now Lu Qing casually admitted he could afford to “practice for fun” with ordinary techniques?
Was this really what a true martial genius did?
The notion shattered Ma Gu’s entire understanding of what it meant to be a talent.
Yet, then he remembered the scene from a few days ago—Lu Qing delivering a single punch that killed Black Wolf.
Black Wolf had been a Jin Gu Jing Great Achievement-level master, feared across the county, nearly invincible in combat.
And yet, he’d fallen in one strike.
Before that, Ma Gu had never known Lu Qing’s fists were so devastating.
So knowing Lu Qing could master staff techniques wasn’t so hard to believe after all.
Realizing that, Ma Gu quickly said, “If you consider it worthy, Master Ma, then it must be extraordinary. I’m sure Young Master An won’t turn it down.”
“Alright,” Lu Qing nodded. “I’ll ask him later.”
The two walked toward the chamber where Wei Zian was training.
This cave had been carefully chosen by Lu Qing—its entrance hidden, its interior spacious and divided into multiple chambers, allowing Ma Gu and the others to live separately, avoiding awkwardness.
The main chamber, where Wei Zian trained, was the largest, easily holding dozens of people.
“Master Ma, Lu Xiao Langjun,” Wei Fu Ren greeted as they approached, rising from her seat.
Wei Zian, meanwhile, was still locked in his stance, his face flushed, legs trembling. He dared not speak—afraid that breaking his focus would cause him to collapse.
“Subi, that’s enough,” Ma Gu said, sensing his disciple had reached his limit. “Rest for now.”
“Huff… huff…”
With that command, Wei Zian collapsed to the ground, gasping for breath.
Ma Gu nodded approvingly. Over the past few days, he’d seen his student keep his promise—no complaints, no excuses, only relentless effort.
“Subi,” Ma Gu said, “you wanted to learn staff techniques, didn’t you? I know nothing about them, so I can’t teach you. But Lu Qing here says he knows a style. Would you like to learn it?”
“Lu Xiao Doctor,” Wei Zian blurted in shock, “aren’t you more skilled in swordplay? I’ve always seen you with that warblade strapped to your back.”
“Lu Qing is a true martial genius,” Ma Gu said with admiration. “He can master any style with ease. Staff techniques are no different to him.”
“Genius? Not quite,” Lu Qing smiled. “But I do know a little. If Young Master An isn’t offended, I’d be happy to teach you.”
“Of course I want to learn!” Wei Zian nodded vigorously.
Wei Fu Ren, hearing this, had no objection. She, too, hoped her son would learn a style he truly loved.
So Lu Qing stepped outside and into the forest, searching for a suitable, sturdy branch. He cut and shaped it into a simple wooden staff, then returned to the cave.
“Young Master An,” Lu Qing said, standing in the center of the chamber, “this technique I know is a Jin Gu Jing-level martial art. At your current level, you’re not ready for the full form. So I’ve simplified it—reduced it to eight movements. Even if you’re only at Qi Xue Jing, you can still train it.”
“Master, this is the most powerful technique I know,” he added. “Once you master it, even average Qi Xue Jing warriors won’t stand a chance.”
As he spoke, he raised the wooden staff, and with a smooth motion, it began to twist and surge like a dragon tearing through the waves—flashing through the air, leaving behind a blur of shadows.
The force of the movements sent gusts swirling through the chamber. The air cracked with each strike, the sound like thunder.
Wei Zian stood frozen, overwhelmed by the sheer pressure of the technique. Yet his eyes burned with excitement.
Is this really the technique he’s going to teach me?
Just as he whispered those words, Lu Qing finished the final move.
The staff snapped back, then shot forward in seven rapid points—each strike cracking the air with a sharp crack, shaking the walls.
Then, the storm of motion ceased. The chamber fell silent. Lu Qing stood calmly, perfectly composed.
Wei Zian was speechless.
Even Ma Gu and Wei Fu Ren were stunned into silence.
After a long moment, Wei Zian finally stirred.
“Master Lu… what was that final move called?”
“That’s called Qi Xing Lian Huan,” Lu Qing said with a smile. “The key is to unleash consecutive strikes within a single breath. It demands precise control over your qi. Master this move, and you’ve mastered the entire set.”
“Qi Xing Lian Huan…” Wei Zian repeated, eyes alight with wonder. “Master Lu, I want to learn this entire set—teach me, please!”
“Very well,” Lu Qing said. “I’ll teach you the forms and principles now.”
As Lu Qing began instructing Wei Zian in the technique, Ma Gu finally snapped back to reality—his eyes wide with awe.
The form was flawless, the power immense. Even Ma Gu, a seasoned warrior, could find not a single flaw.
And this was simplified?
What must the original Yi Qi Gun Fa be like?
Lu Qing’s strength… truly unfathomable.
“Alright,” Lu Qing said after a while. “You’ve memorized the first two movements. The rest will come with practice. Once you’ve mastered these two, I’ll teach you the rest.”
Wei Zian proved to be as gifted as Ma Gu had claimed.
After Lu Qing taught him for over an hour, he had already grasped the basics of the first two forms.
All that remained was repetition.
“Yes, Master Lu!” Wei Zian exclaimed, his voice brimming with joy.
He was amazed how simple and clear the instructions were—far easier to remember than the vague, mystical phrases his old tutors used.
For the first time, he felt that martial arts… could actually be simple.
“Good,” Lu Qing said, shaking his head with a faint smile. “Now practice on your own.”
He watched Wei Zian eagerly begin his drills—his face glowing with excitement.
Then he turned toward Ma Gu and Wei Fu Ren.
“Thank you, Lu Xiao Langjun,” Wei Fu Ren said, her voice filled with gratitude. “I’ve never seen An Er so eager about anything. When he was at home, every time his father made him train, he’d look like he was being tortured.”
“His talent is real,” Lu Qing said. “If he keeps at it, his future in martial arts will be limitless.”
“I don’t expect great achievements,” she sighed. “I just hope he can defend himself. If the Wei Family falls, I want him to survive—unharmed, unbroken. That’s all I ask.”
Lu Qing said nothing.
He knew Wei Fu Ren still carried deep sorrow over the family’s current plight.
After all, the Wei Family’s Xian Tian Jing Lao Zu Zong was still missing.
In such a situation, facing the pressure from the Tian Cang Sect, anyone would feel hopeless.
“The Lady of the Wei Family,” Ma Gu said gently, “don’t worry. It’s been days, and they’re still searching for you and Subi. That means the household is still holding on. If they weren’t, they wouldn’t bother with such effort.”
Ma Gu wasn’t wrong.
Wei Fu Ren’s expression brightened instantly.
“You’re right,” she said, regaining her composure. “If the family still fights, how can I give up? Forgive me, I’m sorry to burden you both.”
“Not at all,” Lu Qing said earnestly. “Your strength of will is something we’ve all witnessed. We’re deeply impressed.”
Wei Fu Ren knew nothing of martial arts. Her physical strength was barely above that of an ordinary woman. Yet, after sustaining such a severe injury, she had endured—through sheer will.
A woman with such courage, Lu Qing and Ma Gu both agreed, surpassed many a warrior who had trained for years.
For the next few days, Lu Qing returned to his quiet life—reading medicine, training, fishing.
Only every few days would he return to the mountain, bringing supplies and checking on Wei Zian’s progress.
In this peaceful rhythm, his cultivation continued to rise steadily.
And so, on a quiet morning over ten days later, while meditating in the bamboo grove, Lu Qing suddenly stiffened—his eyes flashing with sudden light.
“Finally… my bones and sinews are complete.”
(End of Chapter)
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