Talent

"All right, everyone, quiet down. I don't have much time today, so I can only give you a thirty-minute lesson," Yan Jinghong said.

The students who were usually so mischievous and paid little heed to classroom discipline instantly turned into perfect little angels. Every one of them stood ramrod straight, their expressions utterly serious.

The martial arts teacher laughed and cursed, "Those little brats. If they were even a tenth as serious as they are now, their qinggong would have sent them flying into the sky long ago."

"What I'm teaching you today isn't qinggong, but a body-tempering art called Hundred Birds Frolics. Some of you may have heard of it, since some universities teach it as a basic course. It draws on the forms and intent of a hundred birds, emphasizing shifts and transitions in movement and bringing out the spark of agility. Although it isn't itself a qinggong art, after practicing it, you'll get twice the result with half the effort when you practice other qinggong arts."

Yan Jinghong paused, then added, "It was only through practicing this martial art diligently every day, without ever letting up, that I achieved what I have today."

The students' eyes lit up at once, and they grew even more attentive.

The martial arts teacher was a little surprised. He had never expected a great figure like Yan Jinghong, who had made his name so young, to have a talent for teaching.

"Watch carefully. The first move is White Crane Spreads Its Wings, the second is Golden Rooster Stands on One Leg, the third is Sparrowhawk Turns Over, the fourth is Peacock Spreads Its Tail, and the fifth is Hawk and Osprey Stare..."

Yan Jinghong swiftly began the demonstration. His movements flowed like clouds and water, perfectly smooth, carrying the flavor of something forged through countless trials and refined to perfection. Just as he had said, he had diligently practiced this set of Hundred Birds Frolics every day and had never stopped to this day.

Although Yan Jinghong knew other, more advanced body-tempering arts, for daily exercise and cultivating one's body and character like this, what mattered more than the profundity of the art was whether it suited the practitioner. He had practiced Hundred Birds Frolics since childhood, and the art had long since sunk into his bones, becoming as natural as eating and breathing, almost instinctive.

Yan Jinghong did not deliberately slow his movements just because he was teaching a group of students. Yet when he finished the entire set of Hundred Birds Frolics, everyone suddenly discovered that they had firmly memorized every move and variation. All they had to do was close their eyes, and the scene from moments ago would appear in their minds like a recording, clear as day.

It was fist intent!

The martial arts teacher marveled inwardly. This was what a Spirit Transformation expert could do: forcibly pour his own will into someone else's brain.

Yan Jinghong was using that ability to teach at the moment, but if he used it to harm someone, a single look could turn a person into a sufferer of delusions. From then on, the person would spend all day imagining that a mysterious power might be sealed in their left hand, with no mind for studying anymore. Such a divine ability was only one step away from the legendary power to get anyone pregnant with a glare.

The students didn't think that far, but they were still stunned by Yan Jinghong's divine ability.

"Amazing! As expected of a Spirit Transformation expert! Hundred Birds Frolics has thirty-six moves in all, with nine variations for each one. If we had to learn it ourselves, even with a recording, it would take us at least a month or so to learn them all. But now I feel like I can get the hang of it in less than a week."

Yan Jinghong said, "Remember, this strand of my fist intent will only remain in your seas of consciousness for five days. After five days, it will dissipate on its own, and you won't be able to recall it as easily as you can now. So make the most of your time and try to learn the entire set of movements within five days. That will count as taking your first steps into the art."

"Only five days? That's way too short! How are we supposed to learn it?"

"I thought we'd be able to remember it for the rest of our lives!"

"Thirty-six times nine is three hundred and twenty-four movements. We'd be lucky to master half of them. This isn't doing calisthenics, where it doesn't matter if your movements aren't exact. If your posture is even slightly off when you practice, the body-tempering effect will be greatly diminished."

The students couldn't help grumbling, hoping the effect could be extended.

Yan Jinghong did not agree. If it lasted any longer, the lingering fist intent could hurt their brains and cause irreversible damage. Five days was exactly the limit.

In the crowd, Si Ming did not join the clamor. Instead, a peculiar expression appeared on his face, for he was full of puzzlement: Did something this simple require five days? Surely one look was enough to learn it?

Chapter 4: Talent

Although he had not practiced it even once, Si Ming knew he had already learned it. He knew every movement and posture of Hundred Birds Frolics by heart, and the techniques for directing force were as clear to him as a fire seen through glass. He felt an urge to perform it on the spot.

But Si Ming came to his senses in time, because compared with his classmates, he was the abnormal one. If he really were a fourteen-year-old boy, he might have been unable to wait to show off. But as an adult, Si Ming knew well that the wind would snap the tree that stood tallest in the forest, so he forcibly suppressed the impulse.

Although Si Ming had not drawn attention to himself, Yan Jinghong had still noticed him. He studied Si Ming's face and looked somewhat puzzled.

The martial arts teacher beside him asked, "Master, is something wrong?"

Yan Jinghong hesitated, then shook his head. "Nothing. It's just that one of your students looks rather like someone I met once a few years ago."

The martial arts teacher thought this was a fine chance to build a closer relationship and hurriedly asked, "If that person left an impression on you, Master, they must have been remarkable."

Yan Jinghong had seen enough of the ways of the world to guess what the other man was thinking. Smiling, he said, "She was from the Shaman School in the Nation of Beauty, and just a little girl. She left quite a deep impression on me when we first met, but that was the only time I saw her. We never met again afterward."

The Nation of Beauty was a country formed jointly by followers of the schools of painting, fiction, Music School, Chess School, calligraphy, and Shaman School, among others. It took "Beauty" as its name to signify the pursuit of beauty in the world.

The Shaman School was also known as the Dance School. As the name suggested, it was a group of people whose philosophy centered on dance. In the past, they had also been responsible for serving as shamans and praying for blessings for the nation and its people, but the Daoist school later snatched that duty away.

Hearing that the person was from the Nation of Beauty, not even on the same continent, the martial arts teacher immediately lost interest. He also understood what Yan Jinghong meant, so he asked no further questions.

For the first time, Si Ming felt that thirty minutes was an awfully long time. The most painful thing about class was not being unable to understand what the teacher was saying, but understanding it perfectly well and having to pretend to be like the other students who didn't.

To avoid standing out, he deliberately got the details of the movements wrong even though he knew the correct postures. He also made a point of stopping to think after practicing each movement, deliberately breaking his smooth rhythm. It felt as awkward as could be.

Thus, as soon as the martial arts lesson ended, Si Ming used feeling unwell as an excuse to hurry out of school and head home. He walked faster and faster along the way, his impatient desire to practice martial arts growing ever stronger, as if it might burst forth like an Armstrong cannon at any moment. He simply used qinggong again.

The image of Yan Jinghong demonstrating Hundred Birds Frolics kept appearing in his mind, especially the tenth and twenty-sixth moves, which were exceptionally clear. Si Ming unconsciously adjusted how he exerted force in his body according to those two movements, and his speed, which had already reached its limit, broke through once more.

Measured purely by time, it might only have been an improvement from ten seconds for a hundred meters to 9.9 seconds, just 0.1 seconds faster. Yet that 0.1 seconds represented two entirely different levels, and despite going faster, Si Ming was using less strength than before.

Si Ming ran back to the orphanage, panting, and flung the door open. He saw two women who seemed to be arguing about something, but that wasn't important. What mattered was that one of them had a red bra on her head. He froze.

"Strange. Did I open it the wrong way? Why am I seeing the Blind Monk?"

Si Ming unconsciously closed the door, took a deep breath, and opened it again. Thank heavens, the Blind Monk was finally gone, because the red bra was now in the other woman's hand.

He knew both women. The one his age was called Hongdou. It sounded like a nickname, but it was actually her real name.

Her surname was Hong and her given name was Dou. He didn't know whether her parents were a pair of goofballs or had simply seen the line "Red beans grow in the southern lands" and settled on it.

Although Hongdou also lived at the orphanage, her parents were still alive; she just didn't see them even once a year. As for why she insisted on living at the orphanage, Si Ming's predecessor had not been close to her and had barely exchanged a few words with her, so naturally he didn't know the reason.

The other woman, an adult dressed in office attire, was Hongdou's agent and also Liu Qingqing's mother. He didn't know her real name; in his memories, Si Ming had always called her Auntie Liu. Liu Qingqing came from a single-parent family and bore her mother's surname.

Auntie Liu frowned at Si Ming. "It's still class time, isn't it? Why are you... Forget it. Miss Hongdou, hurry up and change. Tonight's banquet is very important. We have to settle the matter of your art exhibition."

She soon couldn't be bothered to look into why Si Ming had skipped class and turned back to persuading Hongdou to change.

As an older acquaintance, she might have seemed cold, but Si Ming knew from his memories that this was how Auntie Liu dealt with people. Her catchphrase was, "I believe there are three kinds of people in the world: those with talent, those without talent but with good family backgrounds, and those with neither talent nor a good family background. I work only for the first kind."

Without a doubt, Si Ming belonged to the third kind, so in Auntie Liu's eyes he was no different from a walk-on character in a novel. Even though he was her own daughter's childhood friend, she would not regard him any differently.