Chapter Eleven: The Method of Spiritual Victory!

Inside the training arena, the fellow disciples pointed at by Gu Shuqi looked somewhat at a loss. He recognized the disciple beside him, who had joined the sect a few months earlier and was already nearing the level to be dispatched externally—a strength far beyond his own.

Yet, after a moment’s hesitation, he gritted his teeth and swung his palm fiercely at the disciple beside him.

Standing nearby, the disciple who had been singled out for insult by the instructor clearly possessed superior strength and speed. He could have easily dodged, but at the instant he intended to evade, a terrifying aura pressed down upon him, freezing him rigid in place. Unable to move, he could only endure the slap.

“Smack!”

With a crisp sound, everyone watched as the slapped disciple’s face quickly swelled.

‘I...’ The disciple who had struck looked down at his palm, while Gu Shuqi had already moved behind him.

“How does it feel? Isn’t it exhilarating? Your opponent is clearly stronger, but you get to insult him. Don’t you enjoy the feeling of humiliating a stronger one?”

Gu Shuqi’s words were like a whisper from a demon.

Recalling the moment of the slap, the disciple instinctively nodded upon seeing the humiliated expression on his fellow disciple’s face.

“Everyone saw that,” Gu Shuqi addressed the crowd. “That one slap will save him at least three days of grueling training. He will never forget it for the rest of his life.”

“Because this might be his only chance in this life to humiliate someone stronger. For the rest of his days, he will savor the memory of this slap.”

After speaking, Gu Shuqi approached the slapped disciple. “He feels exhilarated—how about you?”

“I?” The slapped disciple, Bai Feisi, wore a face of shame and anger. “Of course I’m not happy. Steward Gu, this isn’t fair. I demand a return strike immediately! Bai Feisi has never suffered such a great humiliation in his life.”

Gu Shuqi looked coldly at the indignant Bai Feisi and spat two words: “Fool.”

Meeting the gaze of all the disciples, Gu Shuqi said coldly, “As martial practitioners, we must never be defeated by setbacks. Once you encounter a setback, your spirit will wear down. This is precisely why I teach you the ‘Role-Playing Method.’”

“The body is like a Bodhi tree, the mind like a bright mirror stand. Always diligently wipe it clean, never let dust settle!”

Gu Shuqi spoke with deep earnestness: “The so-called Role-Playing Method means constantly shifting your identity to always stand undefeated.”

He looked at the slapped Bai Feisi. “It’s just one slap. You can’t dwell on setbacks, because the more you think, the angrier you get. At this moment, you need to change perspectives. You must separate your spirit—consider the one hitting as yourself, and the one being hit as the other party.”

‘Consider the hitter as yourself, and the one being hit as the opponent?’ Everyone present was momentarily stunned.

“If that’s too difficult, just imagine the son hitting the father. No matter the situation, you must never be in a disadvantaged position. You should even feel lucky to be hit—after all, others might not be fortunate enough to receive such a striking lesson.”

Hearing Gu Shuqi’s words, the struck disciple stood frozen, stunned for a long time.

The instructor’s words were like a sudden enlightenment.

After a long pause, Bai Feisi stood up excitedly and cupped his hands toward the disciple who had struck him. “Thank you, junior brother, for the blow. Senior brother has realized the truth.”

“What have you realized?” the striking disciple asked, dumbfounded.

“It’s simple. After this slap, I have already won far more than you.”

Bai Feisi said joyfully, “Since ancient times, the strong have beaten the weak—the father beats the son. But this time, I’m the father being hit by the son. This is unprecedented in history.”

“So perhaps I am the world’s first strong one defeated by a weaker opponent. Like the great Yan Divine Sovereign who founded a dynasty and was only the best in his own country, I, Bai Feisi, am the world’s number one. Does that not make me mightier than the Yan Sovereign?”

‘A promising pupil indeed,’ Gu Shuqi nodded slowly, approving Bai Feisi’s insight.

Having just learned the Role-Playing Method, Bai Feisi had already mastered it, fully comprehending and integrating it—a true genius.

Ignoring Bai Feisi, who now walked out of adversity with high spirits, Gu Shuqi turned to the entire assembly. “That disciple just now exemplified the Role-Playing Method perfectly.”

“As long as you always place yourself in the position of the victor, no matter what happens, your spirit will move from one success to another.”

“Every encounter becomes a small win, a medium win, or a big win. When victories accumulate, the path of martial arts lies beneath your feet.”

“Thank you, Steward Gu, for your guidance,” the disciples around said in unison, their hearts enlightened and willing, bowing respectfully.

As for Fang Can, seeing the disciple who wielded this spiritual victory technique so masterfully, he was completely dumbfounded.

‘You can play it like this? Since the martial path is purely mental and cannot affect the environment, you affect yourself instead.’

Fang Can covered his face, watching his excited fellow disciples, unsure what to think.

This martial world constantly overturned his worldview.

Watching the jubilant disciples, feeling their sincere gratitude, Gu Shuqi raised the corners of his mouth in satisfaction.

With just a few words, he had earned their genuine loyalty—a small victory for himself as well.

In high spirits, he spoke a few more words:

“The Role-Playing Method not only lets you win, but also lets you adopt different identities.”

“For example, you can imagine yourself as a peerless genius, a grandmaster of martial arts, and feel the exhilaration of that identity in your mind. This gives you more motivation and direction.”

“To quote the Yan Divine Sovereign again: with heart, anyone can be a Martial God. So why not first imagine yourself as a Martial God, or the reincarnation of one? Establish that mentally first—it greatly aids your martial path.”

‘My goodness, the spiritual victory technique,’ Fang Can was utterly speechless.

After a few more simple instructions, Gu Shuqi departed, leaving the disciples exchanging glances and continuing their self-training.

As Gu Shutian left, Bai Feisi, who had just been celebrating his spiritual victory, sneered coldly at the disciple who slapped him. “Senior brother’s hands are itchy; junior brother, please teach me again.”

The disciple who had just delivered the slap jumped in fright and instinctively stepped back. “Senior brother, didn’t you just thank me?”

“Thanking you doesn’t mean I won’t hit you. By retaliating, I show that I do not despair in defeat—I win again,” Bai Feisi said proudly.

Nearby, Fang Can was ready to watch the spectacle, when he felt his garment gently tugged. Turning, he found the refined senior brother who had just answered his question.

“Junior brother, why not give me a slap too?” the senior brother smiled broadly.

“Huh?” Fang Can was dumbfounded. “Why?”

“Bai Feisi took the title of number one. Please, junior brother, help me reclaim number two,” the senior brother said with some reluctance.

Fang Can: …Is everyone in this world a little crazy?