Sun Shi wandered the training grounds of the sect, observing the various martial artists as they honed their skills. He had already noticed the differences between the martial arts of this world and the ones he had mastered in his previous life. But nothing had prepared him for what he was about to witness.
A group of students were practicing Shaolin Kungfu—at least, that's what they called it. From where he stood, Sun Shi could see that their movements were sluggish, uncoordinated, and their stances were far from the precision that he was accustomed to. His eyes narrowed as he approached them.
One of the students noticed him and smiled. "Ah, you're new here, right? This is Shaolin Kungfu we're practicing. Pretty famous, huh?"
Sun Shi couldn't help but let out a small laugh, his eyes still locked on their movements. "This... is Shaolin Kungfu?" he asked, his tone incredulous.
The student blinked, surprised at his reaction. "Yeah, what's wrong with it?"
Sun Shi shook his head in disbelief. "If this is Shaolin Kungfu, then I am the Emperor of the world. It looks nothing like the real thing."
The group fell silent as Sun Shi's words sank in. The movements were so far from what he knew that it was almost painful to watch. Their strikes lacked power, their stances were weak, and their timing was off. He crossed his arms and couldn't help but let out another chuckle.
The instructor, a middle-aged man with a gruff demeanor, overheard the conversation and stormed over to Sun Shi, eyes narrowing in irritation. "What's so funny, boy?"
Sun Shi stood tall, unfazed by the instructor's anger. "Your students' 'Shaolin Kungfu' is a disgrace," he said plainly. "If my master were to see this, they would laugh you out of the dojo. Your movements are sloppy, and your strikes don't have the power they should. It's a mockery of real martial arts."
The instructor's face flushed with anger, but instead of responding immediately, he turned to his students, who were now staring at Sun Shi, unsure of what to think.
"You think you can do better?" the instructor asked, crossing his arms. "Show us. If you're so confident, show us your version of Shaolin Kungfu."
Sun Shi didn't hesitate. He took a step forward, his expression calm but filled with quiet resolve. His body shifted into the first stance of Shaolin Kungfu, and immediately, the atmosphere around him seemed to change. Every movement was flawless—fluid, precise, and controlled. The strikes flowed effortlessly from one form to the next, and the grace with which he moved was almost otherworldly.
The students watched in awe as Sun Shi's performance unfolded before them. It was as if the very air around him seemed to hum with power. His movements were too fast to follow, too fluid to comprehend. Each strike was perfect—not a single wasted motion, not a single misstep.
But as Sun Shi finished his demonstration, the instructor's face twisted in confusion. He crossed his arms and frowned deeply.
"That's... not realistic," he said dismissively, his tone dripping with skepticism. "There's too much movement, too much flow. In a real fight, you can't afford to move like that. It's just for show. You'll get yourself killed."
Sun Shi's brow furrowed. He was taken aback by the instructor's words, but he couldn't understand why the instructor couldn't see the perfection in his movements. "What do you mean? That's the true form of Shaolin Kungfu. Fluid, fast, precise—everything done with intention."
The instructor shook his head. "No. This is impractical. It's too much. In a real fight, you'll be wide open with every move you make. You can't afford to be so flashy. You need to learn to fight for survival, not just for style."
Sun Shi's patience began to wear thin. He had spent years mastering martial arts, and for someone to call his perfect form "unrealistic" was insulting. The instructor's ignorance of his craft was infuriating.
"If that's how you think, then I challenge the best fighter of your so-called Shaolin Kungfu to a fight," Sun Shi said, his voice steady but filled with growing anger.
The instructor looked at him, eyes narrowing. He had expected Sun Shi to be arrogant, but this was pushing it too far. He let out a scoff and turned to one of his top students, a muscular young man who had been practicing beside him.
"Yang," the instructor called, "show this child how it's done."
The student, Yang, stepped forward with a smirk, clearly eager to show off. He had always been one of the strongest in the group, and this challenge was a perfect opportunity to prove his strength.
"You'll regret this," Yang said, his voice full of arrogance. "Prepare yourself, kid."
Sun Shi said nothing. He simply stepped into position, his eyes cold and focused. The moment the fight began, Yang charged forward, attempting a wide, powerful punch aimed at Sun Shi's head.
But Sun Shi was too fast—his movements a blur. He dodged effortlessly, his body flowing from one position to another with the kind of grace that left Yang stumbling in the air. Sun Shi's strikes came in quick succession—each one precise, each one landing with surgical accuracy. Yang couldn't keep up. Every time he tried to retaliate, he was blocked, outmaneuvered, or thrown off balance.
With a final fluid movement, Sun Shi delivered a swift strike to Yang's chest, knocking the air from his lungs. Yang stumbled back, gasping for breath, before collapsing to the ground in defeat.
The students and the instructor were silent. Sun Shi stood over the fallen Yang, his expression unreadable. "This is the true Shaolin Kungfu," he said coldly. "No unnecessary movements, no wasted energy. Only power and precision."
The instructor's face turned pale as he looked at the defeated Yang, and then back at Sun Shi. His jaw tightened, and for the first time, doubt flickered in his eyes.
Sun Shi turned to leave, his voice calm but filled with finality. "If you want to understand true martial arts, stop thinking like a child and open your eyes."
As he walked away, the other students whispered among themselves, shocked by the display of skill they had just witnessed. The instructor stood frozen, unable to shake the image of his top student lying defeated at Sun Shi's feet.