Chapter 39: The palm that shocked the sect
Li Ming sat cross-legged in his room, holding the Thunder Palm scroll. He read it for the tenth time.
> "Step one: Gather lightning qi in your palm."
He stared at his hand. It was still the same hand. No sparks, no thunder, just five fingers.
"Gather lightning... how do I even do that? Should I shout ’crackle crackle’ and hope for the best?" he muttered.
Still, for once, Li Ming wanted to do something seriously. Everyone thought he was amazing, but deep down, he knew the truth: he was just lucky. If he kept relying on accidents, one day he might actually lose.
He clenched his fist. "No! This time, I’ll do it properly. I’ll make this Thunder Palm work!"
---
Morning came, and Li Ming headed to a quiet field outside the sect to practice. He held out his palm.
"Alright... thunder, come to me!"
Nothing happened.
He tried again. "Thunder! Palm! Please?"
A passing squirrel stared at him, then ran away.
Li Ming’s face turned red. "This is so embarrassing..."
But he refused to give up. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and remembered Elder Qin’s words: ’Feel the energy around you. Guide it into your body.’
So he sat there for hours, focusing. Slowly, he felt a tingle in the air. A faint spark danced at his fingertips.
Li Ming’s eyes lit up. "It worked! Haha! Wait—OW!"
The spark zapped his nose.
"Why always the nose?!" he yelled, stomping his foot.
But instead of quitting, he tried again. This time, he carefully guided the spark to his palm. His hand glowed faintly with light.
Li Ming grinned. "Yes! I did it!"
---
Suddenly, a group of outer disciples passed by. They froze when they saw the glow in his hand.
"Look! Lightning in his palm!"
"He’s really practicing Thunder Palm!"
"In just one night? Impossible!"
Li Ming scratched his head. "Uh... actually, it took me the whole morning..."
But the disciples didn’t listen. They spread the news across the sect: Li Ming had mastered Thunder Palm in a single morning.
By afternoon, half the sect had gathered at the training ground, waiting for him to demonstrate.
---
Elder Qin himself appeared, stroking his beard. "Li Ming, let us see your Thunder Palm."
Li Ming gulped. "Right now?"
"Yes. Show everyone."
The disciples roared in excitement. "Thunder Palm! Thunder Palm!"
Li Ming’s legs trembled. But then he remembered—this time, it wasn’t luck. He had actually practiced. He had felt the spark, guided it, and made it glow.
He stepped forward, raised his hand, and focused. His palm began to shine again. Sparks of lightning crackled and hissed.
The disciples gasped.
"It’s real!"
"He really did it!"
Li Ming locked onto a wooden training dummy. He shouted:
"Thunder Palm!"
CRACK!
A burst of lightning exploded from his hand, smashing the dummy into pieces. The wood burned, smoke rose, and half the crowd nearly fell over from shock.
Li Ming blinked at his palm. "Whoa... it actually worked..."
For once, there was no accident. No slipping, no broken sandal, no pan catching lightning. It was him. His effort.
Elder Qin’s eyes glowed with pride. "Excellent! To master the first stage of Thunder Palm so quickly... truly extraordinary!"
The disciples went wild.
"As expected of Li Ming!"
"Heavenly Steps for speed, Thunder Palm for power!"
"Unstoppable! He’s unstoppable!"
Li Ming scratched his cheek, embarrassed. "Hehe... it was only one dummy though..."
---
Later, in his room, Li Ming collapsed onto his bed. His hand still tingled from the thunder.
He stared at the ceiling and smiled. So this is what it feels like to succeed on purpose... not bad.
For the first time, he felt proud of himself—not because of rumors or accidents, but because he had actually worked for it.
Of course, outside, the rumors had already grown out of control.
"Li Ming destroyed ten dummies with one slap!"
"No, no, he split the sky in half!"
"My uncle’s cousin’s brother said he saw thunder clouds bow to him!"
Li Ming sneezed in his sleep.
---
Bonus Bit
That night, Wu Jian stomped around his courtyard, furious.
"How is Li Ming ahead of me again?! Thunder Palm? Heavenly Steps? What’s next, Immortal Chicken-Slaying Fist?!"
Suddenly, a chicken jumped onto his wall and clucked loudly.
Wu Jian’s eye twitched. "You dare mock me too?!"
He chased the chicken all night, but the bird outran him.
The next morning, rumors spread:
"Wu Jian was seen running in circles, training his footwork."
"Such dedication! He must be inspired by Li Ming!"
Wu Jian nearly fainted from anger.