Why do I have so many masters?

Watching the blank expressions on the children's faces being gradually replaced by awe and then an unstoppable sense of pride — at the grand banquet, before thousands of nobles and even ladies, they witnessed how a monarch of a resurgent power danced like a performer to boost the morale, and a king recited poetry in harmony, displaying an overwhelming spirit that almost hit them in the face.

Great Qin, rising like the sun at dawn!

"You little rascal…"

The elder abruptly yanked Wang Anfeng over, exasperatedly saying, "I've raised you for so long, and this is how you repay me?!"

Wang Anfeng scratched his head and said honestly:

"Master Li, even when starving, we shouldn't deceive children for food, my father said, 'A gentleman does not partake in food that comes uninvited'…"

"Also, it seems like I'm the one raising you…"

"You… you, you, you!"

The elder, speechless, puffed his beard and glared, finally raising his hand and thumping the young man's head hard, but there was an almost imperceptible spark of surprise in his pupils; he intended to retract his hand but instead reversed it, pressing it on Wang Anfeng's head and forcing him to sit down. He ruffled the boy's black hair as though petting a cat, his slightly furrowed brows slowly unwound into a nonchalant grin, chuckling and saying:

"Let's continue, this little rascal interrupted me, we won't talk about the court anymore, now let's discuss the delightful life in Jianghu at One-Leaf Pavilion, and tell tales of many brave heroes who roam the vast Heavenly Mountain!"

"Yay, yay!"

"I want to hear about the Sword Immortal Green Lotus with unparalleled skill in both poetry and the sword!"

"No, we should hear about the legendary thief who walks on air!"

Whether the boys or the more demure girls, upon hearing the word Jianghu, their eyes almost glowed with excitement. Wang Anfeng, held down by the elder, also paused in surprise, feeling an unexpected anticipation for the Jianghu matters that he wasn't very interested in before, and without struggling, just sat beside the elder. The latter glanced at him with a sidelong gaze, chuckled, and took his wine gourd as if it were a Startling Wooden Block, smacking it down hard and sweeping his eyes in all directions as he spoke with emphasis:

"Today, we won't discuss the unrivaled poetry and sword skills, nor the unmatched thief; instead, we will talk about these knights errant and masters who rove the human realm, and the many Sects behind them!"

"In times of peace, our Great Qin boasts seven major schools, perched upon this vast land, and from these schools emerge many lofty persons. Each generation on the peerless list is well-known; every generation has its own splendor, and each surpasses the last. Among these, if we talk about the Sword Dao, the line of the Heavenly Mountain, with its bitter chill and solitary fierceness, is revered by all swordsmen as a sacred place. Then there's One-Leaf Pavilion, nestled among mountains and rivers, proficient in the Confucian School of using painting and poetry as methods of defense. The disciples of this pavilion are not only handsome but also well-versed in the gentlemen's six arts, with each possessing their own unique learned skills."

"Beneath the seven major schools, the number of smaller Sects is too many to count. The paths of Cultivation are also diverse, but they ultimately cannot escape the Martial Saint's martial philosophy from thousands of years ago."

The elder's voice paused slightly, his gaze sweeping across the eager faces of the children, and seeing their yearning, he smiled again and relaxedly said, "The initial stage is Foundation Establishment, with the differentiation of inner and outer paths. External Cultivation Martial Arts begin with the physique, robust qi and blood, and when fully mastered, one is often strong enough to withstand swords and blades with mere flesh and bone. Internal Strength Martial Arts, on the other hand, focus on Breathing Techniques, cultivating a stream of Inner Qi within the body. When Inner Qi abounds, punches and kicks are delivered with a force rivaling that of an expert in External Cultivation, with movements even more agile."

"It's a pity, though, that as strong as Inner Qi may be, it inevitably exhausts. If an Inner Strength martial artist fails to subdue the opponent before depleting their Inner Qi, their life is in grave danger. On the other hand, an External Cultivation martial artist, with body strength comparable to wild beasts of the mountains, must outright defeat the opponent or simply endure, wearing down the opponent's Inner Qi for a chance at victory."

Upon hearing this, Wang Anfeng was lost in thought, sensing the warm stream of Qi inside him, and suddenly understood—Master Ci must be practicing Internal Cultivation, placing no emphasis on physical strength. The elder next to him gave him a glance and smiled slightly, not wishing to continue on the higher realms of Cultivation. He changed the topic to those heroes of Jianghu who already had astonishing tales in the stage of Foundation Establishment, his storytelling was enchanting, and the children listened as if in a trance.

It wasn't until the fiery sun climbed high and calls from parents in the village started coming in that the elder, with reluctance still in his voice, smacked his lips and ceased his tale. Upon seeing that there was no further story to listen to, the children picked up the small stools under them and scattered noisily. The elder leisurely leaned back in his rattan chair, put the wine gourd on the stone table beside him, and lazily said:

"Speak up, you little punk, where did that stream of Inner Qi inside you come from?"

Wang Anfeng was a bit startled, skillfully took the elder's gourd, and while refilling it with light wine from the vat, he responded obediently, "You noticed?"

"Nonsense!"

Master Li fixated a fierce stare on him and pointed to his own eyes, gruffly saying:

"This old man's eyes aren't blind yet!"

"With shining eyes indicating internal energy and a lively breath, this is clearly the result of cultivating inner strength, even reaching a minor accomplishment with the transformation of true qi. You brat, keeping secrets even from me, deserves a beating, a good beating!"

"Li Bo, you have sharp eyes indeed."

Wang Anfeng scratched his head and handed the old man his wine gourd, sincerely admiring, "Just one look and you know everything..."

"Hmph, of course, who do you think I am?"

Old Li squinted, full of self-satisfaction as he took the wine gourd from the young man. However, cold sweat beaded his forehead, and he muttered to himself, "Damn it, nearly capsized in the gutter. If he knew I felt that strand of inner qi when I touched him, I'd lose all face..."

"That was close, too close..."

Lifting the wine gourd to his mouth for a sip, Old Li's expression relaxed, his right hand resting on the back of the chair, his white hair as wild as a lion's mane, assuming the air of an otherworldly master, he asked leisurely:

"Come clean, you rascal."

"How long have you been practicing this inner strength?"

Wang Anfeng scratched his head, embarrassed, "Around four hours... I guess?"

"I can't believe I was about to give you pointers... Pfft!"

The old man, having just looked every inch the hermit master, spat out a mouthful of wine, then burst into a violent coughing fit. His face turned beet red, startling Wang Anfeng so much that he hurriedly walked over to pat the old man's back to help him catch his breath. But he saw the old man throw the wine gourd away and curse angrily:

"Cough, cough, cough, damned gourd, how did a leaf get inside, nearly choked me, cough, cough, cough!"

With a face full of indignation but inwardly gasping in shock as though he had seen a ghost, he thought, "Four hours? Four hours?! This kid never lies and I haven't felt him practicing inner strength before. Could it really have only taken him four hours?"

"Is this boy's talent truly so terrifying? Comparable to the Martial Arts geniuses who are the legitimate heirs of the seven major sects?!"

"Did I really misjudge him?!"

Meanwhile, Wang Anfeng had already picked up the wine gourd, cleaned it with well water, and the old man's eyes darted about, landing on the young man. He wanted to ask where the boy had learned his skills, but even with such talent, without the protection of a master, it would be impossible to cultivate inner strength. Moreover, casually inquiring about someone's sect and lineage in Jianghu was absolutely taboo, especially since that inner qi was bold and righteous, not at all the way of the Evil Sect. After a long thought, he had no choice but to let go of the idea.

But as that thought faded, another slowly surfaced. The old man glanced at Wang Anfeng's figure, a faint shine of speculation in his eyes.

"Li Bo, I've cleaned your gourd. Here is the pork sent by the innkeeper, I'll leave it here for you."

Just then, the young man, looking relieved, turned around and placed the cleaned wine gourd on the stone table, next to it the pork wrapped in oil paper. He then smiled at the old man and said:

"Li Bo, I have some firewood to sell back in my room, so I'll head back now, eh? If you need anything, just let me know and I'll bring it to you."

"Go on, do you think I can't live without you at my advanced age?"

The old man rolled his eyes, waved him off impatiently, and settled more deeply into the rattan chair. Watching the boy's retreating back, he pondered something, eyes peaceful and serene. The breeze tousled his silvery disheveled hair, blending him into the solitude of the small courtyard. Suddenly he sighed lightly, grabbed the gourd for a swig, his expression froze, and he furiously smashed the gourd to the ground, cursing loudly:

"Where's the wine?!"

"Old Lee tricked me again, calling it good wine when it tasted weak, and weak wine that tastes like well water!"

"I'll, I'll tear down your damn pavilion!"