Chapter 91: Establishing a Martial Arts School

To open a martial arts school, the first step was to purchase a property. The location was crucial.

Herbal City was built against the mountains; its eastern gate neighbored the Li Clan’s secondary bloodline vein. Thus, most of the residents in the Eastern City District were Li clansmen or those affiliated with the Li clan. Opening a school there was clearly unsuitable.

The other three districts also posed challenges. The Northern District was home mostly to local gentry, each with their own martial arts lineage—equally inappropriate.

In the end, Lu Yan settled on the Southern District. He sent Wang Lin and Li Quan to scout for a suitable property.

Within a few days, the house was chosen. Lu Yan went to inspect it personally. It spanned over ten acres, with multiple buildings—bedrooms, living rooms, a grand hall, study, practice room, and a martial kitchen—everything one could need. There was also an especially large courtyard, perfect for a martial arts school.

Upon inquiry, he learned the place had indeed once been a martial arts school. The previous owner had been killed, and his heirs were unable to continue, so they sold the property and moved away.

Such a vast estate was, naturally, expensive, with an asking price of twelve thousand taels. After some bargaining, Lu Yan closed the deal at ten thousand.

Next came the purchase of training equipment and tools.

Finally, pricing was to be set. Attending martial arts classes required a fee. Yet Lu Yan’s primary aim in opening the school was to cultivate his own loyal followers—a cadre of trustworthy martial artists. Profit was not his main concern.

Thus, he set the prices lower. He had already learned that in Herbal City, training in even third-rate martial arts at a school cost one hundred taels. For second-rate martial arts, the requirements were stricter. Not only was tuition three hundred taels, but one had to pass multiple assessments and become the master’s personal disciple to receive instruction.

And even then, paying the fee did not mean one would be taught the entire martial art at once; that was unrealistic. The market price for second-rate martial arts was three thousand taels. For three hundred taels, students would be taught in parts.

Lu Yan offered three disciplines each of third-rate and second-rate martial arts.

The third-rate arts were Iron Wire Fist, Flying Antelope Kick, and Iron Sand Palm.

The second-rate arts were Void-Splitting Saber, Wind-Chasing Step, and Gale Hand.

Most schools guarded their martial arts, especially second-rate ones, jealously, but Lu Yan had no such notion.

He priced third-rate martial arts at sixty taels, and second-rate at two hundred taels—almost a third less than other schools. Anyone who paid would be accepted and taught.

For those without the means, the school would still accept them, but they needed to serve as menials for two years. If their character passed inspection, martial arts would be taught to them regardless.

He intended to cast a wide net, then select those of upright character for focused cultivation. As for those who failed the character test, once the martial arts were imparted, they would be left to their own devices; their progress would depend on their own fate, and no resources would be wasted on them.

Half a month later, the school officially opened.

To boost its reputation, Lu Yan had prepared a large batch of flyers listing tuition and the names of the arts to be taught. On opening day, Li Quan, Cao Hu, and a dozen others distributed over a thousand flyers throughout the streets.

On the day itself, some people came, but not many, and most were from poor families, unable to pay tuition, hoping to work as menials for two years and learn for free.

Only three paid for training. All three wished to study second-rate martial arts, and Lu Yan accepted them all.

For those unable to pay, Lu Yan personally checked their physical aptitude and age. Those with decent aptitude and appropriate age stayed; those whose aptitude was poor or whose age was too advanced were sent home.

His aim was to cultivate his own strength, not charity.

The small turnout was expected; Lu Yan was mentally prepared. After all, his reputation had yet to spread, and people were unsure of his abilities—who could tell if he was genuine or a fraud?

Sixty or two hundred taels were considerable sums, possibly a family’s lifetime savings.

There was no rushing this—it would take time.

That day, Lu Yan gathered the three new apprentices.

"Master," the three greeted him respectfully.

They addressed him as master of the school, not as teacher, for they were not his disciples, merely apprentices. This was standard in other schools too; only after passing multiple tests and being taken as a personal disciple did one become a true disciple.

Lu Yan had no intention of accepting personal disciples; he lacked the interest and energy.

"Mm," Lu Yan nodded, seated in the place of honor, scrutinizing the three.

He appeared to be about fifty, with a dignified visage. In reality, he was just over twenty. With such a youthful master, few would want to learn from him.

The three apprentices were two boys around fourteen or fifteen, and one about sixteen. They looked sturdy, evidence of decent nutrition. Anyone able to pay two hundred taels for training was unlikely to be worse off.

"Which martial art do you wish to learn?" Lu Yan asked.

"Master, I wish to study Void-Splitting Saber," said the sixteen-year-old.

"I want to learn Gale Hand—for its balance," said the second.

"And I’ll take Wind-Chasing Step," the third decided.

"Good," Lu Yan nodded, then called Li Quan, Zhang Jun, and Cao Hu, instructing each to take one apprentice. There was no need for him to teach personally; others could handle it.

Over the next few days, more came to learn. Seven days later, excluding menials, there were ten apprentices.

Six chose second-rate arts, four opted for third-rate. Lu Yan handed all of them over to Wang Lin and Zhang Jun’s team for instruction, while observing their character.

He himself continued his leisure training, building up his vitality, and researching martial cuisine.

"It’s been over a year. By rights, I should have mastered the basics of martial cuisine and be ready for entry. Why can’t I form a martial chef avatar?" Lu Yan pondered, frowning.

Could it be that the Dao Manual was only effective for martial arts, not for martial cuisine? Martial arts are a Dao, but is culinary arts not also a Dao?

Lu Yan felt something was amiss.

He began to consider the essence of martial cuisine, analyzing it.

To progress as a martial chef, one must master various recipes, understand the properties of different ingredients, cook repeatedly, and accumulate experience. This was why Shen Yinuo traveled the world.

Martial arts, however, were different. One could focus on a single discipline—train in fist techniques without learning kicks or saber techniques. Mastery in one led to advancement.

Could martial cuisine be approached similarly?

He recalled chefs in his previous life’s China. Some masters, though brilliant, might not cook every type of dish. Instead, they perfected one or two, achieving extraordinary heights and fame.

Could martial chefs do the same?

He decided to focus on a single martial dish. ‘Yinuo Lizard Meat’ was ideal.

He had assisted Shen Yinuo, gaining much experience, and Iron-Armored Lizard meat was readily available.

Lu Yan immediately set out, hunting an Iron-Armored Lizard in Changfeng City’s bloodline vein, then brought back the meat, gathered the necessary spiritual herbs, and began to prepare ‘Yinuo Lizard Meat.’

This dish involved eighteen steps, required twenty-three kinds of spiritual herbs, and three martial condiments.

Lu Yan cut a pound of Iron-Armored Lizard meat, placed it in a specially made stew pot, lit the fire, and boiled water. Once boiling, he added the first medicinal herb, then carefully controlled the flame, simmering.

He watched intently, observing the color changes in the exotic meat and water.

Cooking martial cuisine began with removing the blood poison from the meat. This was no simple matter—it required nine steps and nine herbs.

The herbs could not be added all at once, but one by one.

For example, the first, Split-Liquid Grass, softened the meat, loosening the bond between blood poison and meat.

When the timing was right, the second herb was added, interacting with the first to intensify the effect.

This timing was critical—too early or late, and the meat would be ruined.

Then came the third herb, then the fourth.

Every step demanded precise timing; not a single miscalculation was allowed.

The difficulty of cooking martial cuisine far exceeded ordinary food—by a hundredfold and more.

(End of chapter)