C2 There Was a Martial Arts in His Pupils

"Flesh puppet, proficiency, what in the world is that?"

Meng Yang gulped, his eyes bulging with surprise. In his moment of confusion, he caught the odd look in the young man's eyes. His face went pale, and he clutched his chest, stumbling backward two steps. "Ouch..." he cried out, feigning agony. To sell the act, he even spat out a froth of white foam as he retreated.

The young man, observing Meng Yang's rigid movements, felt a flicker of doubt in his icy gaze. He was acutely aware of the strength in his fingers, having just been practicing his technique. Meng Yang's frail body wouldn't normally elicit such a dramatic response, not even if he were a cripple. So the young man chuckled to himself, seeing right through Meng Yang's antics. Yet, he chose not to call him out. The Lin family's training partner disciples might be expendable, but losing one was still a loss. No one would be upset over an actor among the disciples, as long as they helped him refine his martial arts, no matter how loudly they screamed.

"This is more entertaining than those flesh puppets who seem to yearn for death," he mused. Watching Meng Yang's exaggerated reactions and cries under his prodding, the young man's icy demeanor softened, and a smirk played at the corners of his lips.

"Ahhh!" Meng Yang wailed as the young man's finger jabbed at him once more. The instant his tension eased, his right eye, which had been still for so long, flickered. A cold, mechanical voice echoed in his mind:

Ding! As the host has triggered martial arts proficiency, the details of the martial arts are now fully displayed.

Soul Stealing Palm: Proficiency 0/10000 Beginner.

Flesh Puppet: Proficiency 44/10000 Beginner.

Water Serpent Style: Proficiency 0/10000 Beginner.

"Holy smokes, it's really happening to my thigh!" Meng Yang's face flushed with realization. His heart pounded as if it were hammering against a golden bell, thudding with intensity.

Meng Yang was acutely aware of the significance of what he had discovered; it was something that could undoubtedly propel him to the pinnacle of his life.

It wasn't just a thigh.

It was a thigh that glimmered with a golden sheen.

Luckily, the young man was wholly engrossed in his training and failed to notice the odd look on Meng Yang's face.

After enduring a few more hits, Meng Yang was certain that his body had indeed undergone a transformation.

The crisp, clear numbers in his pupils ignited a fiery excitement within him.

If the right eye provided real-time information, then the left eye must be a log of all recorded data.

"Bang, bang, bang..."

While Meng Yang was inwardly rejoicing, the young man's relentless jabs hit him once more.

Meng Yang feigned agony, following up with a couple more pitiful groans as he delved deeper into his research.

He didn't recognize any of the martial arts that flashed before him with increasing proficiency, but this did nothing to dampen his elation.

Through his recollections, he learned that Soul Stealing Palm was a basic martial art practiced by the original owner under the tutelage of the Lin family elders.

Water Serpent Style was also something he had practiced with an old man in the village who was fond of drinking.

The term flesh puppet, however, caused Meng Yang's gaze to turn peculiar.

After some contemplation, he exclaimed with a newfound understanding, "Who would have thought that taking a beating could also be a form of martial art..."

......

The flesh puppet skill increased in proficiency by 1 after deflecting an attack.

Current Proficiency: 341/10,000.

The flesh puppet skill increased in proficiency by 1 after another defense.

Current Proficiency: 342/10,000.

Half an hour later, with his voice nearly gone from shouting, Meng Yang ceased his cries.

He realized that no matter how pitifully he yelled, the young man's onslaught would not relent.

Moreover, from his first-person perspective, he could vividly sense the progression.

The young man's finger techniques had evolved from initial awkwardness to a fluid and formidable skill, much to Meng Yang's surprise.

Though he had yet to learn the young man's name, Meng Yang was convinced that he was a true prodigy.

Naturally, as the young man's finger martial arts grew increasingly powerful, Meng Yang's proficiency with the flesh puppet skill was also rapidly advancing.

This time, Meng Yang's tensed muscles began to throb with pain.

Half an hour later, with his face and body swollen in several places, Meng Yang's legs started to shake uncontrollably.

After an hour of grueling practice, the young man's fingers were relentlessly striking his body with the ferocity of a tempest.

Eventually, Meng Yang had no choice but to desperately guard his face and vital areas.

But the young man, perhaps intentionally, kept hitting the very same spots he had just targeted.

Initially, it wasn't too painful, but as time passed, the accumulating agony made Meng Yang's scalp tingle with numbness.

He couldn't even manage to scream; his breaths were sharp intakes of cold air instead.

Just when Meng Yang was on the brink of collapse, the young man abruptly stopped.

Breathing heavily, he shook out his aching fingers, gave Meng Yang a glance, and then turned and walked away.

His smooth departure left Meng Yang, still on the sparring platform, somewhat bewildered.

Under guard escort, Meng Yang was taken back to his meager dwelling.

Yet, as he entered, the scene before him stopped him dead in his tracks.

Two individuals, dressed as servants, were placing a gauze-wrapped body onto a stretcher.

The chest that had been heaving with breath before leaving the room was now still.

The body, rigid and eyes wide open in death, was carried away right before Meng Yang's eyes.

It wasn't until they vanished around the corner that Meng Yang snapped out of his daze.

"Dead?"

Meng Yang's pupils quivered as he turned his gaze to the other two people in the room.

But they, upon catching Meng Yang's look, simply ignored him and rolled over to continue sleeping.

It was as if not a person, but an insignificant animal had died—or even a despised insect unworthy of their sympathy.

Meng Yang's heart stuttered, and with a complex expression, he sat on his bed, staring intently at the blood-stained empty bed opposite him.

That morning, that very day, the person had been lying there, not two meters from him.

But now, they were simply gone.

This stark reality made Meng Yang acutely aware of the Lin family's brutality, the surrounding people's apathy, and the precariousness of his own situation, causing his breathing to grow increasingly labored.

He even clenched his teeth so hard they squeaked.

"No matter what you did before, be smart and keep your head down. You might just live a bit longer that way."

"Don't even think about running away. Like the guards told you today, your life belongs to the Lin family."

"I sure don't want to witness a sixth person die in this room."

At that moment, the square-faced man lying in the bed at the northeast corner of the room slightly turned his head to give Meng Yang a glance.

His tone was flat, emotionless. After speaking, he pulled the blanket over his head, seemingly unwilling to engage in further conversation.

Meng Yang's eyes narrowed, a dark shadow flickering within them.

Veins on his forehead stood out as his gaze became fiercely determined, radiating an intense will to survive.

"Think Meng Yang will die easily? A training partner is no one's dog. I refuse to believe that I, Meng Yang, can't change my current situation with my flesh puppet skills, or control my own destiny with my golden finger!"