Chapter 2: What Is Martial Arts

What is martial arts?

Ethan Thompson had always been pondering this question. As he strolled on his way home, his body moved with casual ease, rising and falling with each step. To an ordinary person, there was nothing remarkable about him, but a true expert would sense his aura—walking like a dragon or a tiger, with the lightness of a crane and the steadiness of a tortoise.

His martial arts had already reached a miraculous level.

Once he mastered the two great external martial arts—Tiger Roar Golden Bell Shield and Dragon Chant Iron Shirt—his body became as strong as steel and iron, with copper skin, mercury blood, and frosty marrow. His physique was completely transformed.

“What exactly is martial arts?” Ethan Thompson murmured, “To be brave and diligent is martial arts, to be decisive in killing is martial arts, to keep one’s word at all costs is martial arts, to face death unflinchingly is martial arts, to be both loyal and righteous is martial arts, and even to transcend emotions is martial arts. I started practicing martial arts at six, and it’s been eighteen years now. Every moment, I contemplate the true essence of martial arts, but even now, I still don’t know what true martial arts is. I still don’t know martial arts. I hope that one day, I can understand and reach that miraculous realm.”

Ethan Thompson came from a distinguished background, born and raised in a military compound. His grandfather was a general, and so was his father—both highly influential. He was born with a silver spoon in his mouth, but his character was different from a young age; wealth was like floating clouds to him, fame and fortune mere dirt.

The only thing he loved was martial arts.

Since childhood, he set his goal to pursue the highest realm of martial arts for his entire life. His will was unwavering, the same for eighteen years.

In his eyes, anything other than martial arts was a waste of time.

However, such a goal was seen as idleness. His family was extremely strict, demanding that he study, socialize, and then enter politics from a young age. He deeply resented this, and because of it, he ran away from home several times—until he met his master.

His master was a mysterious martial artist who taught him various skills and once said, “Hansha, you are the most devoted person to martial arts I have ever seen. In the future, your achievements will surely surpass mine.”

Indeed, Ethan Thompson was like this. By the age of twenty-four, he had already mastered Tiger Roar Golden Bell Shield and Dragon Chant Iron Shirt. Mastering even one of these external skills would make one nearly impervious to blades and bullets. Mastering both, with the dragon’s roar and tiger’s might, was like having the power of both beasts. One step further, and he would reach the legendary indestructible Vajra body.

Such a body would not decay after death, the face remaining lifelike.

Ethan Thompson didn’t know when he would achieve the indestructible Vajra body. His pursuit of martial arts was endless.

Woo...

A long whistle sounded as a car sped up from behind. With a beautiful drift, the tire just grazed his toe—an acrobatic feat that would have terrified any ordinary person into stumbling back. But Ethan Thompson stood as still as a javelin, unmoved.

His imposing presence gave the impression that even if the car crashed into him, it would be totaled.

Click!

The car door opened, and a man in sportswear with a perfectly proportioned figure stepped out. He was extremely handsome, with long, slender fingers and an air of powerful confidence between his brows—a temperament forged through countless trials.

“Let me introduce myself. My name is Henry Ford. You must be Ethan Thompson.” Henry Ford looked Ethan Thompson up and down, immediately giving him the sensation of being sliced by a blade.

Henry Ford’s gaze was sharp; just a glance could suffocate, as if it could cut one’s throat. An ordinary person would be so frightened by that look they might wet themselves.

This was the spiritual aura of a martial arts master—just a look could seize the heart, capture the soul, and shatter one’s courage.

“An empty room gives birth to lightning,” Ethan Thompson said, expressionless.

“Oh?” Henry Ford withdrew his gaze, a hint of surprise on his face. “According to what I’ve heard, you’re a spoiled rich kid, idling your days away. I didn’t expect you to be a true expert? I came today because…”

“I don’t care why you came. It has nothing to do with me.” Ethan Thompson interrupted Henry Ford. “Your words are tainted with worldliness, so it must be a worldly matter. I don’t want to hear it. You should leave.”

“Very well!” Henry Ford let his hands fall naturally, a faint smile on his face. “You’re a practitioner too. How about we spar a little?”

“No need.” Ethan Thompson’s body was like a Vajra forged from cast iron. “You’re not my match.”

“What a big mouth.” Henry Ford couldn’t help but laugh. “I’ve met all the top martial artists in the country, but never someone like you.”

“They are ordinary people. Ordinary people only have skills, not martial arts.” Ethan Thompson’s tone was as clear and cold as spring water just drawn from a well. “You came with a worldly heart, so you’re not my match, because you lack devotion.”

With that, he turned his back to Henry Ford and prepared to leave.

Both were experts, and turning one’s back to an opponent was considered foolish in martial arts, but Ethan Thompson did it anyway.

Henry Ford’s eyes suddenly flashed with a sharp light. He extended his arm, and his fist struck toward the dazhui acupoint on Ethan Thompson’s back.

The dazhui acupoint is a node on the spine; if struck, the whole body would be paralyzed.

Chapter 3: Duoluomian Hand

Henry Ford attacked in silence, ghostly and swift, yet there was not the slightest sound of air being split—unlike ordinary martial artists whose strikes create explosive bursts.

This was a supreme realm in martial arts—silence surpassing sound.