A few days after the scammer victim duo settled in Shuimeng, the villager began gathering near the riverbank most mornings. Bao Kun would lie against a rock with a bottle of wine in his palm watching Jin swing his halberd. The villagers would look at Jin incredulously, when he started training, he simply looked like a fool swinging a large wooden stump at the river, however, with time his swings started looking refined. The villagers noticed how Jin’s swings would form small waves on the river, waves that could interfere with the flow of the river momentarily.

As the training began Bao Kun beat the basic forms into Jin’s body for 3 days. Bao Kun was surprised as well, he’d simply chosen Jin as a disciple because of the qualities of his physique matched that of the great art. However, within those three days Jin had made the method his own, even when Bao Kun had trained it had taken him nearly a month to familiarise himself with the basics of the halberd. Bao Kun spoke to Jin “Tch. Heaven must’ve run out of brains when it made you, so it shoved all the talent into your body instead.”, Jin responds “Like master like disciple”. After receiving a prompt beating Jin left to the smithy to start work.

Jin recalls how Bao Kun had told him hammering metal can assist him with his training, he though to himself ‘Training my ass! This is just slave labour so you can drink for free!’. Still, the villagers soon whispered that the ragged boy swung a smith’s hammer like he’d been born in the forge. By the end of the first week, he was carrying bundles of wrought iron across the village on his halberd shaft, grumbling all the while. While working at the smithy, under his masters (captors) orders he had started making a halberd purely of steel.

The forge roared as Jin hammered at a glowing billet, sweat flying from his hair. Boss Wang leaned against a barrel, cup of wine in hand, watching with a smirk. “Are you really planning to swing this chunk of iron like you do that log, even a bull would shatter its spine doing that”, To this Jin replies “Better I break my spine training, than I break my ribs with that old bastard’s fists” Boss Wang chuckled into his cup. “Hah! You hear that, Kun? Your disciple’s already learning to curse and suffer at the same time.” Bao Kun replies “If one is an idiot, what other option does he have but to struggle and curse”.

Both old men laugh as though they’d been drinking buddies for over a decade. Jin speaks with an indignant look on his face “Glad you old bastards find joy in my misfortunes”. Boss Wang ignores Jin’s remark and tells Jin “If you live long enough to actually swing that halberd, brat, I’ll eat this anvil whole.” Bao Kun laughs and says “Careful, Iron Mountain, that boy may be as dumb as an ox, but he’s also built like one”. Both Wang and Bao laugh at Jin as he stares at them with an indignant rage.

By the end of the 1^st week Jin had completed his Iron Halberd, besides Jin’s shoddy workmanship thanks to Boss Wang’s assistance the weapon had good balance. However, one fact made the weapon seem unwieldable, it weighed over a 150 Jin (more than 75 kgs). When the iron halberd was finally finished, the entire forge turned out to see it. The weapon was nearly taller than Jin, with a head so heavy it dug trenches in the dirt whenever he tried to lift it. The villagers whispered among themselves, some amused, others pitying the ragged boy. Boss Wang folded his arms and snorted, “There’s no way that brat will last two steps with that monster. Kun, you’ll owe me a barrel of wine when he keels over.”.

The first week was nothing short of a failure, Jin was barely able to swing the halberd. At one point Jin screamed curses to gather his strength and swing the halberd, while doing so he lost his balance and ended up falling into the river. In the village square, children tied turnips to the halberd’s head and dared him to lift it; he managed half a heave before the weapon crashed down hard enough to rattle the ground. Jin’s training started at dawn but only ended at midnight, continuously lifting and attempting to perform the principles of the halberd thought to him by Bao Kun. Days kept repeating, monotonous training, the same blisters ripping open over and over again. Jin kept swinging even as his palms tore open, the training never changed, it went on to a point where he couldn’t tell what day had come, an intense focus spanning over nearly weeks. During this time Jin would barely eat and would only go to the smithy for an hour or so a day.

At some point an unfamiliar heat spread from his body, not one of the body, but something ethereal. Bao Kun noticed what was going on but kept it from Jin for the time being, he wanted Jin to focus on his training until the heat became stable.

By the fourth week of training, Jin stopped going to the smithy and only ate a single meal a day, he barely slept for 3 hours. Jin even began to realise his body was deteriorating each day, yet he only grew stronger, and he also noticed the unusual heat his body emanated. From not being able to lift the weapon completely, Jin was able to perform the three movements over 10 times in a row, he noticed his deficiency was not that of endurance but the strength to truly use the weight of his weapon. Jin began to develop a deep yearning for strength, in moments like this he started to mutter a mantra from the star shattering halberd arts

 “Lift to bear the heavens.
Sweep to shake the earth.
Crash to shatter the stars.
Strength is not given — it is taken,
and I will take until nothing remains.”

Jin stopped eating, he’d stopped sleeping, he’d ceased all thoughts that weren’t his yearning for strength. His obsession of wanting to take, what the world wouldn’t give him started to meld with his mantra. By the second day, his body trembled, bones groaning as though they might split under the strain, but his mind was clear, stripped bare of hunger and exhaustion. All that remained was the halberd, the movement, and the mantra.

On the 999th repetition, Jin staggered toward the river. His chest heaved, his arms shook, but he raised the halberd overhead regardless. The lift dragged the weapon skyward like a mountain chained to his back, yet his body refused to yield. He brought it down into the sweep, hips twisting, the blade tearing through the air with a howl that sent the river surging in reply.

Then came the final arc—crash to shatter the stars. The halberd descended, and the heat that had long radiated from his body suddenly flared. For the briefest moment, it took form: a fire, burning a searing red, wrapping his frame like a phantom blaze.

As the halberd struck the river, the water beneath it evaporated in a violent hiss, then erupted outward as if a mountain had fallen from the sky. A crater of spray shot across the bank, and ripples thundered to the far end, leaving gouges in the earth where the water retreated.

Bao Kun, who had been watching in silence with his gourd halfway to his lips, froze. His eyes narrowed, and for once his grin slipped into something like awe. “Hah… a momentary manifestation… this brat actually touched momentum without knowing it.” His laughter rumbled low, half disbelieving. “Heh. Heaven really is wasting its favours on a donkey.”

But Jin never heard. His knees buckled, eyes rolling back as his body gave out at last. He collapsed at the river’s edge, the halberd still clutched tight in his blistered hands, unconscious before he could realize what he had done.

Bao Kun strode forward, stooping with surprising gentleness for a man his size. He lifted Jin with one arm, the boy’s weight little more than a sack of grain to him. Looking down at his disciple’s battered face, Bao Kun muttered under his breath, “Four weeks… and already pressing at the threshold of momentum. When I was at this stage, it took me half a year to taste what he just touched by accident.”

He smirked, shaking his head, and turned toward the hut at the edge of the village. “Rest, brat. Tomorrow, I’ll tell you it was nothing but luck—but tonight, I’ll admit you’ve got the makings of a monster.”

With that, Bao Kun carried Jin away from the river, leaving the scorched water and shattered earth as silent proof of what had just been born.

Jin woke to the smell of rice porridge and the ache of every bone in his body. His eyelids felt like lead, his muscles screamed as he tried to roll over, and his palms stung as if someone had driven nails through them. Groaning, he lifted his head to find a steaming bowl set on the table beside his bed.

“About fucking time,” he muttered hoarsely, dragging himself upright. The porridge wasn’t much, just rice and a few scraps of pickled greens, but Jin devoured it as though it were a banquet, each mouthful vanishing faster than the last. He licked the bowl clean, smacked it down on the table, and wheezed, “Heaven itself couldn’t stop me from eating that.”

His stomach finally full, exhaustion pulled him back into a light doze, though less ragged than before. By the time he woke again, the sun was higher and his mind felt clearer, though his body still ached like hammered iron.

Bao Kun was sitting across the room, gourd in hand, watching him with that infuriating smirk.

“You’re awake, brat,” he rumbled, rising to his feet. “Good. Then listen closely. What you touched last night… it wasn’t just strength. It was momentum.”

Jin blinked at him, frowning. “Momentum? The hell does that even mean?”

Bao Kun chuckled, his shadow falling over Jin as he loomed closer. “Heh. Then let me tell you—”

The words hung in the air, heavy with promise.