Chapter 271 - 173: Plucking Hearts with Bare Hands, Challenging the World’s Heroes

Chapter 271: Chapter 173: Plucking Hearts with Bare Hands, Challenging the World’s Heroes

He just sat there, pinching a peanut in his hand for the longest time without bringing it to his mouth. The words Lei Ming had just spoken replayed over and over in his mind...

The worldview he’d built over so many years as a model student completely collapsed in that instant.

Killing... Suppression...

These words, which had only ever existed in novels and movies, sounded like casual conversation coming from Brother Lei.

Especially when he spoke of "killing forty-three men with his bare fists," his tone was utterly calm. There was no fear in his eyes, only the tranquility of one who has weathered many storms.

’Is this the true face of the Martial Dao Circle?’

Zhou Xianchuan suddenly felt the peanuts had lost their taste.

For the rest of their chat, he was somewhat distracted.

He only half-listened to what Lei Ming and Wan Ze were talking about. He would nod occasionally and give a perfunctory grunt of agreement, but his mind was on something else entirely.

Once they had mostly finished the barbecue, the three of them got up to part ways.

Lei Ming paid the bill. When he said it was his treat, he meant it. He firmly pushed Wan Ze’s and Zhou Xianchuan’s hands away when they tried to pay.

"No need to be so formal with me. See you." He laughed, waved, and strode away.

Only Wan Ze and Zhou Xianchuan were left in the alley.

The streetlight stretched their shadows long, and a night breeze blew from the mouth of the alley, carrying a hint of chill.

Wan Ze slowed his pace and turned his head to look at Zhou Xianchuan.

Ever since they left the barbecue place, the chubby kid had kept his head down without saying a single word. ℯℯ𝘭.

For the most talkative person to suddenly fall silent was like a noisy cicada abruptly stopping its racket. It was impossible not to notice.

"Fatty, what’s on your mind?" Wan Ze knew he had to be the one to speak up.

Zhou Xianchuan looked up, a strained expression on his face. He hesitated for a moment.

He would never have said something like this if Wan Ze weren’t his brother.

"Ah Ze..."

"I was wondering... now that we’re in the Martial Dao Circle, is it really all about fighting and killing?"

He felt foolish as soon as he asked, and quickly added, "I know it’s a stupid question, but..."

"It’s not stupid," Wan Ze interrupted.

The two of them stopped under a streetlight.

The lamplight cast Wan Ze’s face in light and shadow. His expression was perfectly calm, betraying no emotion.

"Remember back in ninth grade... when that girl from the next class was cornered by those thugs? Why did you decide to step in and save her?"

Zhou Xianchuan paused, taken aback, before replying instinctively, "I... I was just fired up, you know? A bunch of grown guys ganging up on a schoolgirl... It was shameless!"

Wan Ze looked at him and asked, "So, that fire you had back then... is it still there?"

Zhou Xianchuan opened his mouth, but no words came out.

"The martial world isn’t just simple fighting and killing," Wan Ze said, his voice softening. "Where there’s chivalry, there will be grudges. Where there are grudges, there will be conflict. A person with powerful Martial Arts doesn’t necessarily have good moral character. You understand that, I’m sure."

Zhou Xianchuan fell silent for a moment, as if processing those words. Then he looked up, and some of the confusion in his eyes began to fade.

A look of dawning realization crossed his face. "So, you’re saying some people in this circle... have poor moral character?"

Wan Ze almost laughed out loud.

’Poor moral character?’

’Only Zhou Xianchuan would come up with a phrase like that.’

But he suppressed his laughter and nodded seriously. "Yes, you’re right."

Zhou Xianchuan’s eyes gradually brightened. "So if we get strong enough, we can correct their mistaken ideas... Wouldn’t that make the whole circle a lot cleaner?"

Wan Ze gave him a complicated look.

Under the lamplight, Zhou Xianchuan’s face still held a trace of baby fat. His eyes had a purity unique to youth—an earnestness born of blissful ignorance.

He was only a fifteen-year-old freshman, and he hadn’t even gotten his foot in the door of this circle. He didn’t understand the true weight of the title Grandmaster, didn’t know what Refining Force and Refining Viscera entailed, and certainly couldn’t grasp the blood and brutality behind the phrase "killed twenty-three men with his fists."

He only knew one thing... that what was wrong ought to be made right.

This was a kind of naivety that no one who had spent a long time at the martial arts hall would possess.

Lei Ming didn’t have it. Zhai Jia didn’t have it. Even Wan Ze himself no longer had it.

Yet here it was, in Zhou Xianchuan—in this chubby kid who had just heard a bloody tale from the past and had his entire worldview shattered.

Wan Ze didn’t want to crush his friend’s confidence.

He smiled and nodded, his tone resolute. "Of course. You’re absolutely right."

Zhou Xianchuan broke into a grin, but it quickly vanished. He looked down. "But I’m so weak right now... It’ll be really hard to get to that level, won’t it?"

"Hard, my ass. The key is patience." Wan Ze chuckled softly. "You have to take things one step at a time. Look at the group that joined the trainee class with us. There were dozens of them, but how many are still training? From that whole batch, only the two of us became Martial Artists first. That already proves your talent for the Martial Arts."

He paused, then continued, "First, focus on Blood Tempering and building up a solid foundation of qi and blood. In a year, we’ll start on Refining Viscera. Become a Grandmaster within five years. Then you can take on all comers and beat down anyone who disrespects you."

"Five years... Grandmaster?" Zhou Xianchuan’s mouth hung open, his jaw almost hit the floor.

He didn’t know what being a Grandmaster truly entailed.

In his mind, the word "Grandmaster" was just a vague concept, roughly meaning "someone who’s really, really amazing."

But hearing Wan Ze suddenly say five years... the challenge felt immense, so huge that he was completely daunted.

"Ah Ze, how about... ten years?" he asked tentatively.

Wan Ze shot him an exasperated glare. "You little scrub, what kind of genius takes ten years! Five years. In five years, you and I are going to tear a path through the martial world together."