The Four Realms of Martial Arts

After returning to his room, Zhang Ling took out those books once again.

According to what was written, martial artists are divided into four grades, followed by the Three Fields and Six Gates. The Three Fields are the Upper Field, Middle Field, and Lower Field; the Six Gates are the hand gate, foot gate, ear gate, eye gate, heart gate, and the Celestial Pivot gate. If one wishes to practice martial arts, it suffices to continually refine one's body and extend one's abilities, but to enter the First Grade, one must first awaken the Three Fields, then open the Six Gates. To open these gates, one must cultivate internal force in the fields, infuse true energy into the gates, and only then can one hope to reach the First Grade as a martial artist. Without internal force, the path of martial arts remains forever out of reach.

“How merciless these words are!” Zhang Ling sighed, though he had to accept the reality.

Human strength is limited; in the end, one can only reach the Second Grade. To go further, it depends on personal enlightenment or chance, unless one possesses extraordinary talent and breaks through all barriers unhindered—but such people are rare. To step into the First Grade and enter the Profound Realm is to truly embark upon the martial path.

Martial artists are divided into three ranks: Fifth to Ninth Grade form the third rank; Third and Fourth Grade comprise the second; Second Grade alone claims the first. Below First Grade, the divisions grow complicated, and though grades exist, the distinctions are murky. Above First Grade, however, lies the martial path pursued by all; those who enter First Grade may be called grandmasters.

The martial path is divided into four realms: the first, the Profound Entry; the second, Condensation of the Way; the third, Return to Origin; the fourth, Unity of Heaven and Man.

Profound Entry sets the world right, Condensation of the Way commands the Six Energies, and in Return to Origin one wanders freely...

“Why isn’t there anything about the Unity of Heaven and Man?” Zhang Ling complained. “Honestly, even the introduction isn’t complete.”

Profound Entry sets the world right; its essence lies in connecting the Six Gates, true energy flowing throughout the body, breathing as swift as thought, a sensation of clarity in the mind. Outside the perilous corners of the martial world, one may roam freely, unafraid of provoking anyone—yet such a world loses much of its intrigue. Entering this realm is indeed a new world for martial artists. The ignorant cannot fathom it; only those who have been there can appreciate its wonders.

Condensation of the Way commands the Six Energies: Wind and Wood of the Lesser Yin, Monarch Fire of the Lesser Yin, Damp Earth of the Greater Yin, Mutual Fire of the Lesser Yang, Dry Metal of the Yang Yin, Cold Water of the Greater Yang. This means the Six Energies consolidate into weapons; after reaching this realm, one begins to sense the laws of the world, understands through the Six Energies, and chooses a personal talisman.

“My own talisman?” Zhang Ling marveled. “Each grade seems a world unto itself.”

Soon after, Zhang Ling noticed a problem.

Why does the Return to Origin realm correspond with wandering freely? Zhang Ling was baffled; the information seemed incomplete.

Yet, this only deepened his curiosity about the so-called martial world.

Then Zhang Ling set aside the books on cultivation, turning instead to those concerning the situation in the Central Plains, as well as various sects and grandmasters.

He tried to recall from memory; this was not any dynasty from history, but a brand new world.

There were seven countries in the Central Plains: Chen, Jin, Mo, Yun, Wei, Yue, and Wu. Zhang Ling resided in the land of Chen. Chen, Jin, and Mo lay in the southern region; Yun, Wei, and Yue occupied the north; Wu was situated between north and south, and was known for balancing the flames of war between the regions. It did not dare claim supremacy, but its existence maintained the stability of the Central Plains, so that foreign powers did not dare step into these lands.

Aside from these, three martial organizations rivaled the great nations. First was the Hall of Light, whose influence spanned the Central Plains. The Hallmaster managed it, collecting information from all corners of the world, exchanging it for equal value, never interfering in political or martial affairs. Next was Shadow, an assassin organization; employers paid, Shadow killed. It too spread across the land, but was despised by all, though none could do anything about it, for its movements were shrouded in mystery—no one knew its true headquarters or the real identity of any famous assassin. The third was an island called Floating Life Island, a place where martial artists retired; no common folk lived there. The Island Master, Xuan Yuan Qian Kun, ruled alone, but because the seas around the island were perpetually shrouded in mist, and it lay within the martial domain, even he could not challenge the might of a whole nation.

Zhang Ling then browsed information on many factions and details about grandmasters at the Return to Origin realm, but the books only listed their names, without accounts of anyone breaking through this realm.

Many forces existed, and so there was no war to the death between nations, allowing for a proper martial world.

Zhang Ling sighed, gripping his hand tightly: “The power of a grandmaster is truly awe-inspiring. No wonder the court claims martial artists disturb the peace with their chivalry.”

Though there was much information, Zhang Ling spent a long time before finally setting the books aside.

The next morning, a knock at the door woke Zhang Ling, who was still sleeping deeply. He opened his eyes, then immediately drifted back to sleep.

Seeing no response, the person outside pushed open the door. Zong Chentian walked in slowly.

He shook Zhang Ling, calling, “Zhang Ling, get up. We have to go to the academy soon.”

Zhang Ling shook off his drowsiness, remembering that although there were no schools here, there was an academy! He felt annoyed: “Why is it that wherever I go, there’s always school?”

After some time, he got up reluctantly.

Opening the door, he saw a pond in the rear courtyard of the Zong mansion. In the center of the pond was a platform, atop which rested an enormous iron hammer. Zhang Ling estimated it weighed a thousand pounds—how could any normal person lift it? But then he thought, in a world of countless experts, there must be those who could; yet to lift it would require more than just being a master.

The only thing that puzzled Zhang Ling was why his home contained such a massive hammer. It was certainly unusual, but wouldn’t planting a willow tree make for a better view?

“What kind of eccentric taste does Zong Chentian have, leaving this here?”

Zhang Ling had just dismissed the thought when he suddenly realized—“mansion…”

He hadn’t considered it much last night, since it was late, but now he noticed: how could a merchant refer to his home as a mansion?

“Why are there so many mysteries here?” The sudden barrage of questions left Zhang Ling frustrated. “Looks like Zong Uncle is truly an inscrutable man.”

For a while, Zhang Ling’s head was spinning from all these doubts. After a moment,

“Grr—”

His stomach growled. “Forget it, man is iron, food is steel; no need to argue with my hunger.”

Zhang Ling hadn’t expected to feel hunger here, and stopped suspecting he was dreaming. After eating, he hurried off to the academy; though he remembered what it looked like, he still wanted to see it for himself.

After all, today Zhang Ling had made a decision.

“It doesn’t feel that special! I thought my first visit would be more emotional.”

With a dissatisfied complaint, Zhang Ling strode into the academy, found a seat, and only then remembered there were female students as well.