High Martial Arts: Enlightenment after Practices

From this day forward, his Gravity Manipulation was no longer a simple imitation of the Rules, but a direct manifestation of his Heart Image’s concept of "heavy."

He didn’t need to understand the laws of physics or calculate mass and distance. All it took was a single thought: ’There should be weight here.’

And so, there was weight.

"So that’s how it is..."

Xu Wuyi whispered to himself, a relieved smile spreading across his face.

He finally understood the true meaning behind the words of Grandmaster Ren Bai and Grandmaster Xie Tang.

In Heart Image Cultivation, one does not cultivate the Rules, but the "heart."

Whatever your heart believes gravity is, that is what it can become.

...

That evening, Father Xu came home laden with bags.

"Ah Yi, come and give me a hand," Father Xu called out from the doorway.

Xu Wuyi came out from the backyard and saw several plastic bags piled at his father’s feet, all filled with goods for the New Year.

"Dad, you bought this much?" he asked, stepping forward to take the bags.

"It’s for the New Year, so we have to stock up," Father Xu said, wiping the sweat from his brow. "Couplets, good fortune characters, firecrackers, candy, melon seeds... and the glutinous rice flour your mom asked for to make tangyuan."

The two of them carried the goods into the house. Mrs. Xu poked her head out from the kitchen. "Old Xu, did you get the sesame filling?"

"Got it, got it," Father Xu said, pulling a sealed jar out of one of the bags. "Pure sesame. The shopkeeper ground it fresh. It smells amazing."

Mrs. Xu walked over, opened the jar to take a sniff, and nodded in satisfaction. "Nice. Ah Yi, we’ll make our own tangyuan this New Year’s Eve."

A warmth spread through Xu Wuyi’s heart. "Alright."

"Oh, right," Father Xu suddenly remembered something. "I ran into Old Liu on the street just now—Uncle Liu, who used to live next door. He said his son also came back from the front lines this year. He wants to treat you to a meal to thank you for looking after his boy on the battlefield."

Xu Wuyi thought for a moment. "Uncle Liu’s son is..."

"Liu Zhiyuan. He started college two years before you did and later went to the Northwest War Zone," Father Xu said. "Old Liu told me his son mentioned you in his letters. Said you once saved his squad in the Star Realm."

Xu Wuyi vaguely recalled the name.

It had been shortly after he’d advanced to Innate Martial Artist. He had come across a squad in peril on the Star Realm Battlefield and saved them in passing. The situation had been urgent, so he hadn’t committed any of their faces to memory.

"Then I’ll go," Xu Wuyi said. "When is it?"

"Tomorrow evening, at Old Liu’s place," Father Xu said with a smile. "Old Liu was thrilled. He insisted on having a proper drink with you."

...

The following evening, Xu Wuyi went with his father to Uncle Liu’s house.

Uncle Liu lived in the old district, in an older house with its own courtyard. A table had already been set up in the yard, and a few neighbors were helping bring out dishes.

Upon seeing Xu Wuyi, Uncle Liu immediately rushed over and gripped his hand firmly. "Wuyi! I’m so glad you’re finally here. Zhiyuan, get over here!"

A young man in a military uniform with a scar on his face walked out of the house. When he saw Xu Wuyi, he immediately straightened his back and saluted. "Martial Artist Xu!"

Xu Wuyi returned the salute. "No need to be so formal."

Liu Zhiyuan. He was indeed a member of the squad Xu Wuyi had saved. Back then, Xu Wuyi was already an Innate Martial Artist, while Liu Zhiyuan was just an ordinary Martial Artist.

Now, more than a year later, Liu Zhiyuan had also broken through to the Martial Master Realm. Though his face bore a new scar, his eyes were calmer and more composed.

"Martial Artist Xu, if it hadn’t been for you that day, all eight of us in my squad would have died there," Liu Zhiyuan said in a solemn tone. "That’s a debt I, Liu Zhiyuan, will remember for the rest of my life."

"We’re comrades-in-arms. It was the right thing to do." Xu Wuyi patted his shoulder. "Have a seat. Don’t just stand there."

Everyone took their seats.

The spread was lavish—all local, home-cooked dishes from Red River, prepared with great care. Uncle Liu opened a bottle of baijiu he had treasured for years and poured a glass for Xu Wuyi.

"Wuyi, this toast is for you," Uncle Liu said, raising his glass. "Thank you for saving my son, and thank you for your contributions to the Federation."

Xu Wuyi raised his glass. "You’re too kind, Uncle Liu."

After the first glass of liquor, the atmosphere grew lively.

Liu Zhiyuan shared some stories from the battlefield, and Xu Wuyi briefly recounted his own experiences. The neighbors listened, enthralled, letting out occasional gasps of awe.

"Wuyi is a hero of the Federation now," one of the neighbors remarked emotionally. "It’s been years since Red River has produced someone like him."

"That’s right. The ancestors of the Xu Family must be smiling down on them."

"What are you talking about? This has nothing to do with ancestors; Wuyi earned this all on his own."

Father Xu listened to the neighbors’ praise, his face beaming, but he remained humble. "It was all our son’s hard work. We didn’t do much to help."

Xu Wuyi listened quietly, occasionally taking a bite of food.

This boisterous, ordinary scene felt so real to him.

There was none of the grim tension of the battlefield, none of the solemnity of a medal ceremony—just ordinary people gathered together to eat, chat, and talk about the trivialities of daily life.

But it was these mundane moments that formed the very fabric of life.

The conversation soon shifted to other topics: this year’s Spring Festival Gala, the new mall that had opened in Red River, which family’s child had gotten into a good university.

Xu Wuyi listened quietly, chiming in with a word or two every so often.

Outside the window, the night deepened, and lights flickered on in the courtyard.

The sporadic pop of firecrackers could be heard from distant streets; some impatient children had already started setting off their small explosives.

The New Year’s spirit was growing thicker.

...

The day before New Year’s Eve, Mrs. Xu began preparing the reunion dinner.

Xu Wuyi and his father helped out by washing vegetables, chopping meat, and kneading dough. The kitchen was steamy and filled with mouth-watering aromas.

"Ah Yi, take this plate of fried meatballs out to the living room," Mrs. Xu directed.

Xu Wuyi picked up the plate, walked to the living room, and set it on the table. Several dishes were already laid out: fried meatballs, braised fish, soy-sauce beef, a cold cucumber salad... They were all his favorites.

Father Xu was putting up the spring couplets.

"A little higher on the left... higher still... okay, right there," Xu Wuyi directed from the side.

The black characters on the red paper read: "May a lucky star bring prosperity to our home; May auspicious fortune grant our family peace and health." The horizontal banner above read: "Ringing Out the Old, Welcoming the New."

After the couplets were up, Father Xu took two steps back to admire them and nodded in satisfaction. "Festive."

Xu Wuyi smiled too.

’Yes,’ he thought. ’Festive.’

’The war is over. Those who survived have to keep on living. And celebrating the New Year is one of life’s most important rituals.’

That night, the family gathered around the dining table for an early reunion dinner.

Mrs. Xu placed a piece of fish in Xu Wuyi’s bowl. "Eat more fish. It’s for a year of abundance."

"Thanks, Mom."

Father Xu poured three glasses of juice. "Come, let’s have a toast. To a new year of peace and health for our family."

The glasses clinked softly.

Watching the warm smiles on his parents’ faces, Xu Wuyi felt his heart fill to the brim.

’This was what he fought for.’

’To protect this ordinary peace, to protect this warmth.’

After dinner, Xu Wuyi returned to his room.

He didn’t engage in Cultivation, but simply stood by the window, gazing out at Red River City under the night sky.

The lights of countless homes twinkled below, a portrait of tranquility.

In his sea of consciousness, the dark golden marsh lay calm and still, the Golden Crow Illusion suspended silently above it.

His Heart Image had stabilized. The next step was to continue polishing it, to make his concept of "heavy" even more profound, more refined.

But he was in no hurry.

Like the Red River, which had flowed for millennia, he would move at his own unhurried pace.

Outside his window, someone in the neighborhood set off fireworks.

Dazzling points of light bloomed in the night sky, transforming into a shower of fiery sparks before slowly fading away.

The new year was almost here.

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