Martial Dao: Peace by Force

The hotel room was small and simply furnished.

Outside the window was the night view of the small city. The lights were sparse, and occasionally a car would drive by, the muffled sound of its tires rolling over the pavement drifting up.

Wan Ze stood in the center of the room.

He was shirtless.

The lines of his muscles were clear and distinct under the light. They weren't exaggerated blocks, but tight and fluid, like a fierce tiger poised to strike.

Fine beads of sweat dotted his temples. His breathing was steady, his chest rising and falling gently.

He was throwing punches with incredible speed.

His fists tore through the air, making a faint SHHH sound, like cloth being slowly ripped apart.

During this process, his qi and blood circulated through his meridians, cycle after cycle, neither fast nor slow.

Ever since reaching Refining Viscera, Wan Ze had found his body to be much more sensitive than before. While practicing his Martial Skill, he could even easily perceive the powerful beating of his heart, the smooth expansion and contraction of his lungs, and even the faint peristalsis of his stomach and intestines.

This control over his own bodily functions grew more precise as his attribute values increased.

After all…

The Attribute bonuses were no joke.

A moment later, a knock came from the door.

"Ah Ze, are you busy?"

Tan Xiao's voice came through the door panel.

Wan Ze opened his eyes, slowly withdrew his energy, and stood up. He grabbed a clean white towel draped over the back of a chair, wiped his face, and went to open the door.

As he swung his arm, he glanced at the interface.

The data frame displayed:

[Illustrated Guide: Eight Desolates Fist] (High Level Mastered)

[Skill Special Level Satisfaction Conditions: Practice this fist technique 30,000 times] (15,800/30,000)

CLICK!

The door opened.

Tan Xiao was standing outside, dressed in loose-fitting training clothes. His hair was still wet; it looked like he had just taken a shower.

He was holding two bottles of water and handed one over. "I saw your light was still on."

Wan Ze took the water and stepped aside to let him in.

"How long have you been training?" Tan Xiao asked.

"For a while." Wan Ze sat down at the table, took a sip of water, and said with a casual smile, "Couldn't sleep, so I got some exercise."

Tan Xiao paused as he was pushing the door closed.

It wasn't because of what Wan Ze said. Rather, he suddenly noticed Wan Ze standing shirtless in the middle of the room. With the light shining down from above, Wan Ze's shoulders looked broad and his back thick, yet his waist was cinched tight. His latissimus dorsi spread out like two fans, and below them were his trapezius, deltoids, and biceps—every single fiber rippling with a power that seemed ready to explode at any moment.

This was a physique forged through genuine, hard-won effort.

Tan Xiao was stunned for a moment.

A thought suddenly popped into his head…

'This junior brother of mine always looks so lean with his clothes on. How is he so jacked underneath?'

Wan Ze picked up the towel, draped it over his shoulder, and asked casually, "Brother Xiao, did you come over this late for something?"

"Ah, right..." Tan Xiao snapped back to reality and closed the door. "I just got off the phone with Master. I told him about the Divine Martial Society."

He walked into the room, sat down on a chair, and his expression turned serious. "Master said we should just handle things by the book. As for the Divine Martial Society, they won't make trouble for us openly. After all, they're all reputable figures in the martial world. They still have to follow some basic etiquette."

Wan Ze nodded without a word.

Seeing his reaction, Tan Xiao couldn't help but add, "I'm just a little worried. I've heard that those guys from the Divine Martial Society aren't easy to deal with. What if tomorrow..."

"It's fine." Wan Ze looked at him and smiled. "We'll cross that bridge when we come to it. They're arbitrators, and so are we. We each have our own duties, and our paths shouldn't cross."

Tan Xiao opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but felt that Wan Ze had a point.

Seeing he had nothing more to say, Wan Ze smiled. "It's getting late. You should get some rest too, Brother Xiao."

Tan Xiao stood up, suddenly looking eager. "Ah Ze, how about we spar a bit?"

There was a hint of anticipation in his eyes.

Wan Ze glanced at him and chuckled, but he had his own Cultivation plan. He politely declined, "Maybe tomorrow. We have official business to attend to. Once this is all over, we can spar for as long as you want."

Tan Xiao scratched his head, not knowing what else to say. "Alright then. You should get to sleep early."

He walked out the door, then turned back to add, "Don't train too late. We have to be ready at nine tomorrow."

"Understood. I've got it under control."

The door closed.

Wan Ze stood behind the door for a moment, listening as the footsteps faded away.

He turned, walked back to the center of the room, and tossed the towel onto the back of the chair.

He stood firm.

Closed his eyes.

And threw a punch.

Time flew by.

Soon.

...

[Illustrated Guide: Eight Desolates Fist] (Special Level Mastered)

[New Effect: All Attributes +0.05]

[Skill Ultimate Satisfaction Conditions: Practice this fist technique 100,000 times]

...

Wan Ze stood in the center of the room.

He was no longer throwing punches.

He just stood there, eyes closed, his breathing gradually slowing.

Then, he felt it.

His qi and blood surged within him like a tide, washing over his entire body in waves.

With every heartbeat, he could feel that power pumping from his heart, rushing through his blood vessels with a slight heat, and spreading throughout his body.

But upon closer inspection...

His qi and blood seemed to have become "heavier" than before.

The feeling was hard to describe.

It was like... the difference between a stream and a flood, even though both are water.

If his previous qi and blood were a light, flowing stream, then his current qi and blood were a raging flood. Every surge carried a heavy weight, battering the inner walls of his meridians and causing the already widened channels to expand just a little more.

Wan Ze could clearly hear his own heartbeat.

THUMP! THUMP! THUMP!

Each beat was steady and powerful, as if someone were striking a great drum inside his chest cavity.

With each beat, that immense torrent of qi and blood surged through his body, delivering power to every single muscle fiber.

Naturally, his muscles began to change.

Wan Ze could clearly perceive every muscle in his body trembling slightly, like countless tiny strings being tightened at once. His pectorals, lats, deltoids, abs, and thigh muscles began to grow denser.

The already distinct muscle lines became even more profound, knitting together into a more compact structure.

With a slight exertion of force...

Wan Ze could feel his abs tightening, one block after another.

His lats stretched, spreading out to the sides like a pair of doors, each muscle brimming with explosive power.

He looked down at his arms.

Veins bulged slightly.

He clenched his fists.

That power exploded from his palms, traveled up his arms to his shoulders, then down to his waist, legs, and the soles of his feet. His entire body was like a fully drawn bow, ready to be released at any moment.

He stood there, breathing steadily, completely still.

But the oppressive aura emanating from him was even stronger than when he was throwing punches earlier.

Wan Ze stared at his hands for two seconds, then walked to the table and looked at the data frame.

[Physical Strength: 1.94]

[Intelligence: 1.78]

[Agility: 1.75]

[Endurance: 1.87]

[Power: 2.0]

[Coordination: 1.81]

He stared at the "2.0" for several seconds.

"Finally... made it!"

The corners of Wan Ze's mouth twitched, and a light shone in his eyes.

How to describe this feeling... It was like finally buying something you'd been saving up for and dreaming about for a long time.

"So satisfying."

Wan Ze picked up the towel and wiped the fine sweat from his body.

Outside, the night was deep.

There was still official business tomorrow.

He draped the towel over the back of the chair and walked into the bathroom.

Soon, the sound of SPLASHING water filled the air.

...

「Early morning.」

The sound of fists tearing through the air echoed continuously in the dimly lit room.

An unknown amount of time passed.

An alarm rang, and the sound of practicing fists came to an abrupt halt.

Turning off the alarm, Wan Ze, his muscular upper body bare, pulled open the curtains. Brilliant light flooded in from outside. He closed his eyes, breathing quietly, feeling the explosive potential of his body's functions.

After a quick five-minute wash and a fast meal, Wan Ze met up with Tan Xiao.

The Ming Family's people were already waiting for them.

"Mr. Wan, President Ming has already made the arrangements. This way, please..."

Wan Ze nodded and got into the car with Tan Xiao.

...

「9:00 AM. The city stadium.」

The stadium was built in the eighties. Its exterior walls were made of grayish-white washed stone, which had yellowed faintly with age.

The glass of the main entrance was polished to a shine, and a notice written in black ink on red paper was posted on it: "Closed Today. Not open to the public."

Several young men in short black jackets stood guard at the entrance. Their backs were straight and their gazes were vigilant. They had been standing watch since early in the morning.

Wan Ze and Tan Xiao got out of the car. Ming Zhaojun was personally waiting at the entrance to lead them inside.

They passed through the foyer and pushed open a pair of heavy wooden doors, and their view suddenly opened up.

Inside was a standard basketball court, surrounded by tiered stands that could seat three to four thousand people.

But at this moment, it was completely empty except for the first few rows closest to the court.

The Ming Family contingent sat in the eastern stands.

The old patriarch, Ming Venerable, sat in the front row, surrounded by younger members like Ming Lei and Ming Wei, as well as a few Ming Family elders. Their expressions were solemn.

In the western stands sat the Sheng Family Members.

Wan Ze glanced over.

The man in the lead was in his fifties, with a square face, thick eyebrows, and a steady gaze... Ming Zhaojun whispered that this was the Sheng Family head, Sheng Yunfeng.

Behind Sheng Yunfeng stood three young men—two tall, one short—all brimming with qi and blood.

"Those are Sheng Rulong, Sheng Rushan, and Sheng Hai... There's also a tall, thin young man next to them... the one standing beside Sheng Yunfeng. That's Sheng Ruhu," Ming Zhaojun said in a low voice.

Wan Ze nodded.

...

The Ming and Sheng families faced each other across the court. No one spoke.

In the very center of the court was a long table covered with a red velvet cloth. Two rows of chairs were placed vertically on either side in front of it.

Those were the arbitrators' seats.

The left side was marked with the name 'Dragon Eagle,' and the right with 'Divine Martial Society.'

Five people were seated in the Divine Martial Society's chairs.

The leader was an elderly man with graying hair and a beard, dressed in a dark gray Zhongshan suit. He was leaning back in his chair with his eyes half-closed. Behind him stood four young people—three men and a woman—all wearing the uniform of the Divine Martial Society: black, with a stand-up collar and small silver characters embroidered on the chest.

Wan Ze's gaze swept over the four young people.

The first on the left was in his early twenties, with a round face and a smile in his eyes, though the smile wasn't entirely sincere.

The second was a tall, thin man. His chin was slightly raised, and his gaze swept over Wan Ze and Tan Xiao, as if sizing up prey.

The third was stocky and expressionless, making him hard to read.

The fourth was a young woman.

She was eighteen or nineteen, with her hair in a high ponytail. She had a delicate, oval face and exquisite features, but her gaze was unfriendly. When her eyes met Wan Ze's, she tilted her chin up slightly, her gaze sliding from his face down to his body and back up again, as if looking at some strange new curio.

"Those are the people from the Divine Martial Society..." Ming Zhaojun introduced them in a hushed voice. "The old man's surname is Peng. We all call him Elder Peng. He's a Refining Force Expert from the Divine Martial Society, and the ones behind him are his disciples."

Wan Ze nodded without a word.

Ming Zhaojun led them to the center of the court.

Tan Xiao, half a step behind, swept his gaze over the four young people. Feeling their hostility, his own expression turned unfriendly.

Seeing Wan Ze and his companion approach, Elder Peng remained leaning back with his eyes half-closed, showing no intention of standing up.

The four young disciples, however, did move.

The round-faced one and the tall, thin one came forward to greet them, while the young woman and the stocky man remained where they were.

"You two must be our friends from Dragon Eagle?" The round-faced man was all smiles. He cupped his fist. "I've long heard of you... I am Zhou Yuan of the Divine Martial Society."

He introduced himself, then the tall, thin man beside him. "This is my junior brother, Zhao Ying."

Zhao Ying cupped his fist, his chin still slightly raised. His gaze paused on Wan Ze's face, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips.

The smile was polite, but there was something else behind it.

It seemed that because of Wan Ze and Tan Xiao's age, it was inevitable that they would be looked down upon.

"Dragon Eagle Wan Ze. A pleasure," Wan Ze said, cupping his fist.

"Dragon Eagle Tan Xiao..."

"Dragon Eagle only sent the two of you?" Zhao Ying spoke, his tone casual. "I thought they would send a few seniors. After all, this business between the Ming and Sheng families is no small matter."

As he spoke, he glanced at Tan Xiao, then back at Wan Ze. "You two look... quite young. I wonder, what's your ranking in Dragon Eagle?"

It sounded like small talk, but the tone was off.

What did he mean by "ranking"?

This was clearly a probe, an attempt to gauge their strength.

Tan Xiao's brow furrowed, and he took half a step forward.

Wan Ze reached out and gently pressed his arm, looking over with a smile. "Our ranking isn't important. The fact that we're here is what matters."

Zhao Ying chuckled. "Of course, of course. But this business between the Ming and Sheng families involves a friendship that has lasted for many years. If something were to go wrong..."

"Nothing will go wrong," Wan Ze interrupted, a faint smile also on his face. "The Dragon Eagle Sect sent us because they have confidence in us. I'm more concerned about the Divine Martial Society's side..."

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