Harmonious Flow Fist

The bluestone slabs of the training ground were warm from the morning sun. Wang Yue, tucked away at the edge of the crowd, found his gaze drifting across the field.

The ranks had already silently divided. On the east side stood the main family disciples, shoulder to shoulder.

Each was as sturdy as a young bull, their muscles rippling beneath dark, fitted tunics. They casually leaned their wooden spears and hammers against their sides, exuding a subtle arrogance.

The collateral family disciples on the west were mostly slender, clad in washed-out cloth robes, spaced apart from each other. Their eyes were nervous, like two distinctly different rivers, clearly separated.

"This isn't an 'assessment together,' it's clearly laying out the 'pecking order.'"

Wang Yue clenched the cuffs of his sleeves, a bitter feeling rising in his heart.

Just then, the sound of hurried footsteps came from the entrance. A dozen young men in coarse, short tunics entered, led by a steward.

Their faces were dark, their hands calloused from labor, their eyes filled with curiosity and awkwardness. These must be the outer disciples the Wang Clan had recruited from the county.

Steward Hu leaned close to Wang Hu and whispered a few words. Wang Yue vaguely heard, "I joined the Wang Clan like this decades ago." After Wang Hu nodded, Steward Hu quickly directed the newcomers to their positions.

At this moment, the training ground was completely divided into three teams: the main family's formation stood tall and straight like pines.

The collateral family appeared very reserved, while the outer disciples in their coarse robes bowed their heads. The three groups were separated by noticeable gaps, like three rivers that could not merge.

"Quiet down, everyone!"

A loud shout boomed. Wang Hu strode forward two steps, his chest rising and falling beneath his dark tunic. His voice, laced with raw power, made Wang Yue's eardrums buzz.

He first addressed the newcomers: "The Wang Clan gives you an opportunity, it's for you to strive, not to muddle through!

The steward was once a farmer from the county outskirts; he achieved his current status through martial arts. If you succeed, don't forget this legacy!" The newcomers clenched their fists, their nervousness seemingly fueling a bit more grit.

Wang Hu then swept his gaze over the main and collateral families, his eyes sharp as knives: "Don't think being part of the clan grants you privileges! Today's transmission of techniques is for everyone equally! Some live in luxury, others rely on their parents for mending clothes, but before the martial path, none of that matters!

Seize the chance to condense your Qi and Blood, and you can rise. Fail to grasp it, and you'll be mediocre your entire life!"

He patted the black iron post beside him, which let out a dull thud: "This is a chance to defy fate; it all depends on your performance today!"

Silence washed over the training ground as the wind swept dust across the bluestone slabs.

The arrogance of the main family subsided slightly, the outsiders' fists turned white, and a spark of determination flashed in the collateral disciples' eyes. Wang Hu's words were like a fire, igniting everyone's unwillingness to settle.

Wang Yue touched the pouch in his bosom, his thin arms beneath his eyes filled with newfound resolve. He would practice martial arts.

Afterward, Wang Hu had guards bring over half-height black wooden posts. The posts were smooth and glossy, covered in marks from years of striking.

He stood before a post, his dark tunic billowing without wind. He clenched his right fist, and a gust of wind erupted: "Splitting Wave Hand!" He swept his hands outwards in an arc, his movements slow but carrying the force to stir the air. He stepped forward with his left foot, twisting his waist.

His right fist struck the wooden post like thunder: "Crashing Waves Fist!" A dull thud that made hearts tremble. The wooden post swayed slightly, a clear fist imprint left on its surface.

The movements were devoid of any sloppiness. The "softness" of Splitting Wave Hand and the "hardness" of Layered Wave Fist flowed seamlessly, yet the power was astonishingly fierce.

"Harmonious Flow Strike!" Wang Hu brought his feet together and pushed forward with both fists. Qi and Blood surged from his soles, converging at his waist and flowing into his palms, all striking the wooden post.

The post swayed even more violently, dust rising. Wang Yue stared at his movements, feeling that every turn of the waist, every breath, contained the true essence of Harmonious Flow Fist. However, it was too fast for the collateral and outer disciples, leaving them only with blurred vision.

"Too fast... I can't remember." A collateral youth beside him crumpled his fist manual. After a short while, Wang Hu withdrew his fists, the wooden post covered in fist imprints.

He called Wang He, a main family disciple: "Demonstrate it slowly."

Two main family disciples brought a reclining chair and handed him tea. Wang Hu leaned back, leisurely sipping his tea.

Wang He walked to the post, took a deep breath, and began his demonstration.

His movements were much slower than Wang Hu's. The arc of Splitting Wave Hand was slowed, and the force of the Overlapping Wave Fist was reduced, but the accuracy and standardization of the stances were flawless: "For Splitting Wave Hand, pay attention to your arm angle; don't use brute force!"

His soft explanation clearly carried across the training ground.

If you find this book to your liking, be sure to add it to your bookshelf to avoid losing it next time.

The collateral and outer disciples could finally keep up. Some consulted their fist manuals, while others mimicked the movements.

"Everyone move! You only have half an hour!" Wang Hu said, taking a sip of tea, his voice casual yet authoritative.

The training ground immediately descended into chaos.

Among the main family disciples, a dozen who had practiced before executed Harmonious Flow Fist in succession. Though their power wasn't comparable to Wang Hu's, they looked the part. Those who were slightly less skilled occasionally faltered but kept pace.

The collateral and outer disciples were in disarray. Some misremembered the moves, directly transitioning from Splitting Wave Hand to Harmonious Flow Strike, their movements contorted like puppets.

Some stumbled and fell while stepping, eliciting low chuckles. Others stood rooted to the spot, motionless for a long time.

Wang Yue stood at the edge of the collateral family, not rushing to imitate.

He closed his eyes, repeatedly recalling Wang He's slow-motion demonstration, from the arc angle of Splitting Wave Hand to the timing of the step in 疊浪拳, meticulously sorting through the details of the movements in his mind.

Opening his eyes, he slowly raised his hand and practiced according to the rhythm in his memory. Though his frame was slender and his strength insufficient, the framework of each move was more orderly than that of most of the collateral disciples who were imitating in a panic.

Learn first, then practice.

The motion of his punches grew heavier, sweat beading on Wang Yue's forehead. His arms felt so numb he could barely lift them.

He watched Wang He's gradually increasing punching speed in the distance, knowing in his heart that there was no such thing as instant success in martial arts.

All he could do now was to firmly remember the framework of the movements.

Wang He's demonstration rhythm grew faster, the arc of Splitting Wave Hand nearly halved in speed. Many among the collateral and outer disciples began to fall behind.

Wang Yue also felt the strain, his gaze frequently switching between the fist manual and Wang He. He occasionally raised his hand to imitate. Though slow, he could barely follow the path of the boxing techniques, unlike others who missed or mixed up the moves.

"Hoo…" After finishing half of the form again, Wang Yue leaned over, hands on his knees, gasping for air, his chest heaving heavily.

He looked down at the sweat-soaked characters on the fist manual, shaking his head inwardly. It was too difficult, and there was too little time.

Just then, footsteps sounded from the edge of the training grounds.

Wang Yue looked up. Wang Hu stood up from his lounge chair, brushed some dust off his clothes, and left.

A dozen or so direct disciples immediately stopped their practice and followed. Wang He ran to the end of the line and, before leaving, glanced back at the training grounds, his eyes filled with the superiority of a direct disciple.

As soon as their figures disappeared, the tense atmosphere in the arena instantly relaxed.

"I'm exhausted!" A young outsider slumped to the ground, rubbing his sore arms. "This Harmonious Flow Fist is more tiring than carrying a hoe!"

The collateral branch disciples also gathered, chatting amongst themselves. Someone held up a fist manual, dreaming, "If only I could train like Lord Wang Hu, have status within the direct lineage, and receive a monthly allowance!"

Someone lowered their voice, "If I could condense my Qi and Blood, I could at least let my parents stop sewing until midnight…" The training grounds gradually became lively, with people discussing the Wang Clan's status, fantasizing about the future, and complaining about their hardships.

Wang Yue stood to the side, carefully folding the fist manual and putting it into his chest.

At this moment, a collateral branch disciple dressed in a grey cloth robe walked over. His hands bore the calluses of practicing martial arts, clearly having some experience with Harmonious Flow Fist. "Don't just be happy; getting started with Harmonious Flow Fist isn't that easy."

"Getting started? Isn't it enough to just remember the moves?" an outsider youth asked, confused.

"Remembering the moves is just the first step!" the grey-robed disciple pointed at the black wooden stakes. "Those fist imprints were formed by Lord Wang Hu's years of practice. Our collateral branches have a poor foundation, and without guidance, it will take at least a year or two to even touch the threshold of entry!"

These words chilled the lively atmosphere a bit.

Some looked down at their own slender hands, some clutched the fist manual hesitantly, and some sighed, "One or two years… I don't even know if I can last that long."

Wang Yue's heart also skipped a beat, but he touched the pouch in his chest and remembered Wang Hu's words about defying fate. His wavering quickly subsided. He looked up at the black wooden stakes. The sunlight glinted off the fist imprints, making them shine. Perhaps the road ahead was long, but as long as he remembered the moves and practiced them diligently, maybe he could do it too!

Wang Yue took a deep breath and followed the crowd out of the training grounds.

The fist manual in his chest still held a trace of his body heat. Every move within it felt like a step towards a different life.