High Martial: I Grind Professions

"Good! Good! ...Good!" It wasn’t until Li Wen had gathered the bowls and chopsticks and was about to return to his room that Li Hong seemed to wake from a dream. His face instantly flushed a deep crimson, and he said the word "Good" three times in a row.

The intense joy washed away much of his earlier fatigue, and a long-lost vigor seemed to radiate from him.

"The results will be out in a couple of days! I can’t wait to see what you scored, kid!" he laughed. Though his voice still lacked some of its usual power, it was filled with hope.

He would see the report card soon, and he didn’t doubt his son’s words in the slightest. The certainty in his son’s eyes was like starlight on a cold night, dazzling and real.

"I’m going to study then." Li Wen nodded and walked into his room.

The door clicked softly shut, sealing out the noise. At this moment, studying was the only thing that mattered.

With no teachers to supervise and no classroom to restrain him, self-discipline became the most powerful force.

School was out for winter break, so he could only continue his campaign from home. Outside, the winter holiday was cold and quiet. Inside, there was only the rustle of his pen on paper and the tempest of thoughts raging in his mind.

’Go to the county library? No need.’ The time spent commuting back and forth was enough for him to tackle a few more tough problems or memorize a few more Chapters.

If it weren’t for the school’s rule about mandatory attendance, and the precious exam opportunities there, he would have even been willing to spend the entire semester like this—alone, in his own little world, charging endlessly toward that goal.

Lost in concentration, time itself seemed to shrink.

The crisp rustle of pages turning, the soft muttering during contemplation, the frantic path of his pen across scratch paper... this was Li Wen’s entire world.

Outside the window, the daylight shifted from a pale gray to brilliant white, then quietly ascended to its zenith.

Finally—

[You have studied diligently for 6 hours. Scholar EXP +36]

A faint blue light danced on the virtual panel, announcing the end of the morning’s journey.

[Class: Scholar LV 3 (268→304/400)]

His eyes swept over the panel. Without him even realizing it, his accumulated Scholar experience had already passed the three-quarters threshold.

Even though his final exam scores for his academic subjects hadn’t been released yet, at this rate, another three days of such high-intensity studying would be enough for him to steadily climb to the peak of LV 4.

’LV 4... A forty-percent boost to my comprehension!’

At this thought, Li Wen’s heartbeat involuntarily sped up a little.

The thirty percent from LV 3 already allowed him to rapidly analyze the mysteries of the Rainbow Light Saber Skill under [Absolute Focus], and even deconstruct an opponent’s attacks in actual combat.

’If it were forty percent, what kind of insight would that provide?’

’Practicing the Splitting Blade Golden Killing Skill in that state... would I find the path to the Great Success Realm even faster?’

’And would studying even more profound subjects be as easy as reaching into a bag to retrieve something?’

However, what followed was immense pressure. A powerful increase in comprehension meant an even more terrifying drain on his brain.

The backlash from [Absolute Focus] at LV 3 was already like a storm battering a dam; dizziness and sharp pains were his constant companions.

’If I upgrade to LV 4, the burden from that kind of overclocked operation...’

"Raising my physical level is an urgent necessity..." Li Wen muttered. A powerful spiritual will needed a vessel strong enough to contain it.

’A level of 6.3 is too low. It’s like a small-capacity battery, unable to support a high-power output.’

’Without a matching physical level, no matter how high my comprehension, my body would collapse the instant I activated my abilities, or even suffer from the backlash. I have to make faster progress on the Splitting Blade Golden Killing Skill.’

GRUMBLE... A timely growl from his stomach pulled his thoughts back to reality. He decisively closed the books on his desk and stacked them neatly.

He didn’t practice his saber skill or the Splitting Blade Golden Killing Skill in the morning, so his energy consumption was low. The substantial breakfast he’d eaten was enough to fuel the intense mental exertion until noon.

But the afternoon and evening... were completely different.

In the afternoon, he had to hone his Rainbow Light Saber Skill to perfection. In the evening, he had to endure the muscle-and-bone-tearing practice of the Splitting Blade Golden Killing Skill.

Every powerful, heavy slash, every surge of qi and blood brought on by pushing his Cultivation Technique to its limits, was accompanied by an incredible rate of energy consumption.

Simple rice and vegetables were completely insufficient to support such high-intensity physical overload.

He needed energy—large amounts of pure energy.

He had to consume large quantities of high-calorie, high-protein food—like firewood thrown into a furnace—to provide enough fuel for the extreme training to come.

Only then could he rapidly recover when on the verge of total exhaustion, allowing him to push through another round of training, and then another.

Otherwise, after just two or three rounds of saber practice, or circulating the Cultivation Technique for a few cycles, his body would fall into an irrecoverable state of weakness, or even suffer a deficit.

Without fuel, even the most powerful engine would stall. This was also one of the root causes of the Li family’s financial hardship.

His insane, almost masochistic "grind" not only required a will as tough as steel—abnormally so—but also required his family to burn themselves out to support him financially.

Just his lunch and dinner at school, meals that had to meet the needs of high-intensity training, cost far more than a normal student’s, easily over a hundred New Coins at a time.

On the path of the Martial Dao, what wasn’t a money pit?

Qi and Blood Potions, cultivation resources, high-energy food to replenish what was consumed... This was the true meaning behind the saying "the poor pursue scholarship, the rich pursue the martial arts," an insurmountable chasm that lay before countless students from poor families.

Poverty and the desire to grow stronger were like an invisible giant hand, tightly gripping Li Wen’s throat and breaking his father’s back.

’I have to break through! And fast!’

Li Wen grabbed a somewhat faded old schoolbag he had prepared earlier, slung it neatly over his shoulder, and strode out of the room. "Dad, I’m heading to the Fire Hall."

He called out to the living room, deliberately keeping his voice calm.

"...Oh, okay! Good!" Li Hong’s voice came from the kitchen. It seemed to pause for a moment, carrying a hint of imperceptible worry and understanding. "Be safe! Come back early."

"Got it."

CREAK—The old apartment door closed.

Li Wen’s figure quickly vanished into the crisp, midday air of deep winter, his steps firm and hurried as he strode toward his destination.

「12:30 PM.」

The winter sun, cool but not bleak, shone down on the somewhat empty streets of Bluestone County.

Turning a familiar street corner, a magnificent and imposing building appeared at the end of the road.

It was like a dormant behemoth, constructed entirely from a dark gray special alloy. Its lines were cold, hard, and simple, with no extra decorations, yet it exuded a sense of battle-hardened history and the rock-solid security of a fortress.

In front of the building was a large, flat plaza, flanked by several huge stone sculptures symbolizing different weapons, silently speaking of battle and protection.

Above the massive main entrance hung an incredibly heavy plaque that radiated a metallic luster and faint energy fluctuations. Inscribed upon it were two powerful and majestic ancient words that seemed to burn with passion: Fire Hall