Martial King's Retired Life

Book 15: Chapter 79

Zizi sighed.

“How can you think like that? Zi, how old are you now?”

“My nominal age is fourteen.”

“So you’re thirteen?” The boy crossed his legs and grabbed onto them. “You’re like an old man in a kid’s body. Although you’re a terrible martial artist at the moment, there’s hope. How are you supposed to protect your mother when you’re so soft? How about adventuring with me and making our mark? It’s far better than strictly walking between the lines.”

“I don’t strictly walk between the lines, do I?”

Despite the diverse personalities of the seven Princes, walking between the lines was one trait that none of them embodied. Thirteen-year-old Zizi believed in a constable at Liu Shan Men to teach him martial arts and mindlessly befriended people in the pugilistic world. Not even the other Princes went so off the rails as kids. In saying that, Zizi would’ve been considered a greenhorn compared to scions of martial arts families.

“Are my skills really that lousy?”

“Lousy isn’t exactly the right word. It’s more that… you use them poorly.”

The boy mimicked one of Zizi’s techniques, switching swiftly between finger spears and punches on one hand, recreating their fight earlier. Not only was he able to replicate Zizi’s power, pace of play, but even the essence. Zizi was always proud of himself for being able to come up with counters overnight, and the two often liked to debate it. Only now did Zizi learn the boy remembered everything he saw and could virtually learn the mental cultivation just through watching. In other words, the boy had always been holding back.

Zizi clapped. “How did you do that?!”

“This is nothing.” The boy flipped a hand over and switched to a new technique from Zizi’s discipline that not even the latter had seen or utilised before.

“I never thought of those techniques, but they seem to be my techniques. How did you perform them?”

The boy retracted his arms and crossed them again. Smiling, he replied, “This discipline of yours focuses primarily on being impulsive. Your techniques are alive and evolving, so why can’t you be as flexible? I can deduce dozens of your techniques based on your mindset alone.”

Zizi mulled over it for a while before realising the importance of those words. “How do you know my mental cultivation?”

“Well, guess you’re not incorrigibly stupid if you thought of that now. It’s weird to you, isn’t it? It’s my clan’s copy technique that allows us to dissect someone’s techniques and copy them. We deduce the essence of their mental cultivation in combat and then make a copy for ourselves to deduce and replicate.”

“Doesn’t that mean you can learn every discipline in existence.”

“As if. Plus, I don’t succeed every time. I don’t think it’s that impressive, while my father and brother treat it as some sort of sacred treasure. If you run into an elite who you can’t copy properly, using this discipline will be your undoing.”

“So how…”

“Well… Check this out.”

Zizi found himself on his back by the time he heard “out”. When he sprung up, he had red hand mark on his forehead. “What the heck?! You sneak attacked me!”

“Why didn’t you defend?”

“How can I defend against something so fast?”

“My point exactly. If yin qi was added to it, it’d be even harder to detect the strike. What good is it if you can copy a technique when the original user is faster and stronger than you can keep up with? If you’re outmatched, you should be trying to escape, not copying techniques.”

“Still, it’s impressive. You’ll be able comprehend whatever dirty tricks people try, so they won’t be able to catch you unprepared.”

“Praise me more.” The boy always appreciated adulation. At most, his ego would pull his chin upwards by the third word of praise. The fact that someone who refused to surrender to him before praised him made it even a bigger ego stroke.

The boy quickly recovered and sighed. “Still, I’m likely far from your shifu.”

While the boy was able to replicate Zizi’s techniques, it lacked the casual intent it required, so it wasn’t as speedy.

“I’m able to copy your techniques because you haven’t achieved mastery and are clumsy. That’s the best I can do with my copy. If your shifu was to use the same techniques, it’d probably be too sophisticated for me to copy.” “Is the gap really that big?”

“Any true elite would have their mental cultivation committed to heart. Like I said, the intent behind your disciple is to be casual, which, simply put, is to be shameless. It’s indifference to circumstances; it contains moments where you commit fully to offence. It looks like a mess, but it embodies the spirit of doing whatever you want. How powerful does someone need to be to be able to do as they please, when they please, and how they please? If your shifu has achieved that state, I can’t match him.”

Zizi nodded in agreement. While Zizi wasn’t sure why his shifu didn’t want to reveal his true skills, it wasn’t an uncommon trait for adepts in the martial world, so Zizi didn’t think it was bizarre.

“Your personality doesn’t match this discipline. It’s working for you now, but you’ll need a disciple more suited for your character if you want to advance to higher levels.”

Just as Zizi went to voice his agreement, the boy physically hushed him. Zizi did as he was told, but he grew annoyed since he didn’t hear anything. Eventually, he picked up on footsteps in the distance before a dozen-plus people passed by.

The boy simpered. “I’ve been watching them for a few days. The way they behave sneakily tells me they’re up to no good.”

Zizi thought it was unbelievable until a certain individual came into view. “S-Second Brother?”

Zizi’s second brother was none other than the individual best known as Orange Prince.

“Your second brother? Which one?” The boy followed Zizi’s finger, then sneered. “He looks good, but his face tells me he’s a backstabber.”

Sweating, Zizi cleared his throat. “My second brother shouldn’t be in the capital.”

Once the group vanished, the boy said, “Let’s tail them.”

After he had a think, Zizi shook his head. “It’s late. I need to head home.”

“So what if you don’t go home? It’s suffocating in the capital. Why would you pass up a rare opportunity to have some fun? Let’s go already.” The boy bolted off.

Chasing after his friend, Zizi cried in a low voice, “Bu, wait up!”

Glossary

Pace of play – It’s a term I borrow from baseball. It’s a concept that refers to the interval between action. To draw the parallel with combat, Floyd Mayweather Jr and Sean O Mally are excellent at this. Both of them check the clock during rounds to decide if they want to push the pace or slow the pace, whether it’s through disposition feints, holding, breaking their opponent’s base and so forth.

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