Finding Pearls in the Mud (1)
“What? Suddenly?”
I asked Peng Jincheon, pleased but trying not to show it too much at his abrupt proposal.
“Your skills are impressive. More than that, after rolling around with you in a fight, all those family ties and Jianghu politics feel pointless.”
It was the honest words of the Little Dragon Blade, Peng Jincheon. I opened my mouth as if wondering if it was really okay.
“I’m just a servant with no sect or family backing… You sure it’s fine to be friends with someone like me?”
“True friends judge only by character, don’t they? I learned a lot sparring with you.”
He truly was a straightforward, hearty man with no lingering grudges.
“Then let’s do it.”
There was no reason to refuse from the start. He was my favorite character in Seven Falls, Eight Rises: The Invincible Fist King, a righteous man who lived and died by loyalty above all.
Plus, in the original story, Little Dragon Blade Peng Jincheon sided against the protagonist Cheon Myeong alongside the Huangbo family, clashing repeatedly.
But by knocking out Huang Bo Taeung, I’d claimed everything that was meant for him. And becoming close with Peng Jincheon, the future greatest swordsman under heaven, wasn’t like snagging some random fortuitous encounter or elixir—it was no easy feat.
“Great!”
Peng Jincheon grinned brightly and sat beside me. With that, I’d gained the future greatest swordsman as a friend.
You couldn’t survive alone in this brutal Jianghu martial world. Forming ties with a supporting character boasting insane growth potential was as solid as it got.
And there was one more reason I needed Peng Jincheon.
Cheonmu Academy’s final graduation trial is a team battle.
Just like professors in the real world loved group projects, this academy had a finale episode where three-person teams cleared the trial. The top achiever upon graduation got an ultra-rare perk unavailable anywhere else in the world, so scouting talent early was crucial.
First, graduate Cheonmu Academy and snag that perk.
I hadn’t entered this place for nothing. It was Cheon Myeong’s dream and a shot at elite rewards.
And that wasn’t all.
This is still the early part of Seven Falls, Eight Rises: The Invincible Fist King.
Characters like Little Dragon Blade Peng Jincheon, who shine later on, were everywhere here. Knowing the story meant not just monopolizing fortuitous encounters, inner arts, and techniques—but also networks and alliances.
Befriend anyone with visible potential!
Connections were king everywhere, and this harsh Jianghu was no exception. I planned to devour every advantage Cheonmu Academy offered.
* * *
All who passed this entrance exam entered Cheonmu Academy’s lower class. The academy divided into upper, middle, and lower classes, with promotion exams yearly regardless of cohort. Fail to shine, and you’d get expelled or demoted—often.
Maybe that explained it.
Even the lower class is this intense.
Senior students in the lower-class dorms eyed the newbies coldly, barely greeting them. If you shared a sect or family, no bullying—but my case was different.
“Cheon Myeong? No sect or family, right?”
“Servant background, they say.”
“No shared meals for him, then.”
I was instantly branded an outsider. Orthodox Nine Great Sects and Five Great Families kids saw themselves as elite; mid-tier clans were middle class. The bottom rung? Loners like me who entered solo. They faced open exclusion or harassment, many fleeing in the night.
But it didn’t last.
“Cheon Myeong is the first true friend I’ve made outside my family. Anyone badmouthing or shunning him answers to me—and the entire Northern Peng Clan of Hebei.”
Peng Jincheon stepped up late but loud, easing my worries. His fame among us young latecomers was huge—no one dared ignore him.
Academy life went smoothly after that.
“Lower-class students at Cheonmu Academy: forget everything your sects or families taught. We drill foundations and basics from scratch.”
The real martial arts lessons began. Groans from lower-class students at “basics,” but I was thrilled.
I’ve got the strongest inner and outer arts now, but they’re wildly imbalanced.
Self-taught, no balance—shaky foundations. But Cheonmu Academy taught rigorously from the ground up. Perfect.
Everything flowed smoothly after.
–Cheon Myeong and Peng Jincheon, top and runner-up of this entrance exam: prepare for promotion trials.
Before half a year passed in lower class, we qualified for middle-class promotion. Simple test: demonstrate lower-class lessons before instructors. Child’s play for us.
“Truth be told, neither of you belonged in lower class from day one.”
Vice Headmaster Dan Ri-cheong, the Soft Wind Silver Sword, nodded approvingly—rarely attending promotions. Under his and the instructors’ gaze, we demonstrated flawlessly and passed.
“We did it!”
“Fastest middle-class promotion ever!”
Ecstatic, we high-fived. Already tight after six months, advancing together bonded us deeper. Gladder still I’d entered Cheonmu Academy.
“Middle-class students gain access to our pride, the Cheonmu Library. Use it well.”
Another perk: browsing the orthodox world’s vast martial manuals. Lower class lacked it. A boon for some, worthless for others.
“Tch, why bother with that junk pile?”
“Yeah, mastering family arts is enough.”
Some bigshots grumbled at the instructor’s proud words. Fair point. The library was massive but lacked elite secrets from Nine Great Sects or Five Families—kept private, naturally.
But I’m different.
I knew gems even librarians overlooked. My uncle and I, fans of hidden rewards, stashed killer manuals in places like this library or secret caves.
Can’t recall every one, but the key ones? Yes.
Undervalued ancient scrolls or dismissed manuals—I had the scoop.
“Browsing starts today. Those interested, go ahead.”
Instructor’s okay given, I bolted to the Cheonmu Library. Invited Peng Jincheon along, promising recs on good stuff—but.
–I’m good. Family arts and academy ones keep me busy enough.
His polite refusal meant no dragging him. Solo trip it was.
“Whoa! It’s huge!”
Fitting the orthodox world’s largest archive, its scale awed. But quantity over quality—elites skipped it. An oasis for minor sects or independents craving arts.
Hurry.
First day middle-class access meant crowds. My picks were unpopular, but no letting anyone snag them first.
“Inner arts section…”
I headed to the inner heart method manuals. Got Mythic Heart Method, world’s best—why another? Hear me out.
Mythic Heart Method is too flashy and powerful; can’t use freely.
Flash it, and greedy eyes covet; curious ones pry. Restricted inside academy.
Plus.
Mythic Heart Method fuses seamlessly with any other—no backlash, accelerates learning.
A subtle cover heart method? Incredibly useful. And I had one in mind.
“Found it!”
Buried in inner arts tomes: one manual.
Ox-Step Thousand-Li Heart Method!
The Ox-Step Thousand-Li Heart Method.
“Pfft!”
“What’d he find now?”
“Named for an ox’s plodding pace—slow as hell.”
Students who’d gathered at my shout sneered. Makes sense. This method purified impurities superbly, gentle and pure—but learning speed? Snail-paced, hence the name.
I recalled my uncle debating it. Tired of the cutthroat world, he dreamed of ox-like steady steps—infusing that into this method.
Proven effects, but maddeningly slow. Solo? Yeah, glacial.
But with Mythic Heart Method?
As said: fuses perfectly, boosts speed. World’s cheatiest inner art + purest one. Thrilling combo.
Not just fixes the slowness—amplifies purity exponentially?
Convinced, I snatched the Ox-Step Thousand-Li Heart Method manual.
Trash to others. Treasure to me.
Like mining a pearl from mud.
Joy surging, I hustled for the next gem. More undiscovered pearls awaited.