Settling Down (Part 2)

"I'm on it!" A clever little fellow nearby hurried into the inner room. Before long, he returned carrying a wooden case divided into many compartments, each filled with different snacks.

Chicken feet, melon seeds, grapes, chestnuts, malt candy, and more. At this time, in this environment, they could actually still eat such good things.

It was clear Old Man Zheng lived quite comfortably.

He picked up a chicken foot and gnawed at the palm.

"A little too salty."

"Alright, let me explain this carefully—the reason."

He slowly set down the chicken foot and licked his lips.

"The reason, well, this..."

He looked around at the circle of people waiting eagerly for him to speak.

"What? None of you are training anymore? You think listening to bragging will make you stronger? You lot think you're something now, huh?!"

"Go, go, go! Get back to it! Only by working hard day and night will you have no regrets when the time comes!"

He grabbed a willow switch from behind his chair and whipped it at them.

The willow switch cracked sharply, making the burly men bare their teeth in pain as they scattered.

Only Wei He remained.

"Alright, now then, let's continue. Where were we?" Old Man Zheng scratched his head.

"We were talking about how we differ from ordinary people," Wei He promptly replied.

"Mm, right, that was it." The old man dragged things out so badly that it made people want to whip him.

He took a deep breath, then slowly let it out.

"Why do we martial artists train? Isn't it so we can beat other people?"

"Yes." Wei He nodded. He was extremely curious as well—whether the martial arts and martial path of this world were still like those from his previous life.

In his previous life, China's martial arts had steadily declined because they could not keep up with the times, to the point where they were easily crushed by a bunch of people practicing kickboxing.

They were routed like a landslide.

Wei He did not believe that Chinese martial arts had been unable to fight from ancient times to the present. After all, masters had emerged in endless succession throughout every dynasty. Among a vast population of over a billion, there would always be people who studied diligently and trained bitterly. They could not all have been trash.

Why, then, could they still not beat kickboxing? The greatest possibility was probably that they had clung stubbornly to old ways and lacked real combat.

That was why he was so curious about what the martial path of this world was truly like.

After dawdling for a long while, Old Man Zheng finally stopped playing coy.

"Martial arts training is about beating people. If you can beat people, then the purpose of our training has been achieved.

"So martial arts are the skill of using every possible method to defeat others—to kill others."

He summed it up.

"I don't know what others think, but this is the foundation of my Huishan Fist."

Old Man Zheng stroked his beard. "And the most fundamental part of beating others is seeing who has greater strength, who is faster, who strikes more accurately, and who can take more punishment!"

"Master, what insight! Only an established master like you could possibly summarize such profound principles!" Wei He hurriedly praised him.

Old Man Zheng smiled. "The principle is simple, but how do you make yourself stronger, faster, more accurate, and tougher? That has to be trained.

"These are the things we train for. But..."

His tone shifted.

"A person cannot be perfect in every aspect." It was said that Old Man Zheng had once become a xiucai in his youth. The way he spoke was indeed different from others.

He sighed.

"A person's energy is extremely limited, and talent cannot cover every area. So being able to train one direction to a high level is already quite good."

He looked at Wei He.

"My Huishan Fist trains the hands—the fists."

"Rich people can use good gloves to enhance the attack and protection of their fists. But you lot have no money," Old Man Zheng said lazily.

"So train. Make your fists hard, make your strength great, and you'll naturally become formidable at beating people."

He stood and pointed at a tall, dull-looking man.

"Zhao Hong, you're in charge of your little junior brother. Start by having him train his strength."

"Oh." The man obediently answered.

Wei He looked at the man, comparing his build to those of the others nearby. He had the feeling that Zhao Hong might be quite strong.

"Little Junior Brother, my name is Zhao Hong. I'm the Senior Disciple Brother. I'll first teach you how to train strength. But strength training requires meat, so you'll need to find a way to improve your meals first."

"I understand!" Wei He nodded earnestly. "By the way, Senior Disciple Brother, have you heard of internal training masters?"

"Internal training? What internal training? I don't know." Zhao Hong shook his head. It was obvious that he had a simple, honest nature.

Tall, muscular, and obedient, he was probably often ordered around in this courtyard as well.

"You just arrived today, so follow me and practice lifting stones first."

"Lifting stones?" Wei He felt somewhat cheated. So after paying so much money, he had merely been brought here to lift stones?

"Yes, but there are techniques to this lifting. When you lift, you must be slow and steady. At the same time, I have a bit of Huishan Fist instruction here that you need to remember."

Zhao Hong seriously led Wei He to a corner piled with stones of all sizes.

"The instruction is: body like a floating willow, light as the wind; feet take root, strength must move." Zhao Hong recited a rhyming verse.

"..." Wei He was speechless. This mnemonic seemed rather different from what he had imagined.

"Try it first." Zhao Hong picked up a stone nearly as wide as his own body, held it in the center of his arms, and moved it up and down. The huge stone, as thick around as a man's embrace, rose and fell softly in his hands with astonishing ease.

Yet although his upper body moved, his feet remained fixed in place as if rooted.

Wei He seemed to understand a little.

"This is strength training?" he asked.

"This is it. Just find a stone that suits you," Zhao Hong explained. "After strength training comes practicing moves, Skin Grinding, then footwork, and only finally actual combat. All told, you need to train until your blood and qi are robust, until your fists can break wooden stakes without pain. Then it's about time for the next step."

"Senior Disciple Brother, are there any standards for judging whether one's blood and qi are robust? How can I tell what level my blood and qi have reached?" Wei He asked carefully.

"My Huishan Fist has several levels: Ox Hide, Stone Hide, and Iron Hide. They refer to the hardness your fists can achieve. You can test them yourself later. Once you reach Ox Hide, your blood and qi will be sufficient," Zhao Hong explained.

"I understand." Wei He nodded. "Then when can I begin?"

"Right now." Zhao Hong did not mince words.

Without another word, Wei He stepped forward and, with Zhao Hong's help, chose a stone.

After training for an entire afternoon, his whole body soon ached and he was completely drained. But then something miraculous happened.

Aside from teaching Huishan Fist, Old Man Zheng also supplied a special medicinal soup called Little Ten Thousand Soup.

Anyone who paid could receive it—one bowl a day.

Zhao Hong brought him a bowl. After drinking it, Wei He found that by the next morning, all his soreness had completely vanished.

He immediately understood that although this world appeared similar to his previous life, it surely had its own unique qualities in the details.

Old Man Zheng of Huishan Fist had managed to live by teaching people for so long, with such a great reputation and such high fees. He must have something extraordinary about him.

After all, a year's tuition was equivalent to the total yearly expenses of a family of three.

The times were bad now. Silver was worth less than before, and market prices were growing increasingly chaotic, yet the old man still lived exceptionally well. This showed just how capable he was at making money.

From that day onward, Wei He trained bitterly with Zhao Hong every day, resting one day after every three. During those breaks, he continued doing homework for young masters and young ladies, while secretly learning to read at the same time.

He earned money while spending it, and somehow still had some left over.

As for his Second Sister, Wei Ying, she simply moved into a house near Old Man Zheng's place.

The house belonged to Old Man Zheng. Since she did not ask for wages, he let Wei Ying stay there for free.

Though it was somewhat rundown, it was still better than being harassed by Chen Biao and the other two.

Everything was temporarily settled, and Wei He threw himself wholeheartedly into bitter training.

He did not have the strength to deal with Chen Biao's group of three for the time being, but that was fine.

There was plenty of time ahead.

Day after day passed.

Wei He also began training bitterly day after day, honestly and steadily. Every morning before dawn, he rose to temper his sinews and bones.

Although Old Man Zheng provided meals as well, he still prepared extra meat pies for himself and ate a little after training.

This ensured the huge daily needs of his growing body, while also providing extra nourishment for the Boundary-Breaking Pearl.

Large amounts of silver went out, and as time passed, Wei He's body grew increasingly strong and sturdy.

The Boundary-Breaking Pearl on his chest also slowly darkened. Yet it still had not reached the pure black color needed for use.

When Chen Biao's group saw that he had settled down in the Zheng family courtyard, they restrained themselves somewhat.

But whenever they saw him and his Second Sister returning home, Chen Biao's furtive and malicious gaze was always there.

In the blink of an eye, more than three months had passed.

Huff.

The sky had yet to brighten.

Wei He wrapped both arms around a large black stone, mustering the strength of his entire body as he continuously moved it forward and back, up and down.

Around him, the other men of Huishan Fist were also tempering their strength.

After correcting his posture and key points for a while, the Senior Disciple Brother had stopped paying much attention to him and gone to teach another newcomer instead.

Wei He trained his strength every day. Though it was dry and tedious, feeling himself grow stronger day by day gave him considerable peace of mind.

"Little He, how is it today? Can you move up to the second row of black stones?"

In an open spot to his right, Third Senior Brother Cheng Shaojiu took off his outer robe, revealing the short training clothes beneath.

Then he lifted a stone from the corner and began warming up as well.

Over these past months, he had actually grown closer to Wei He.

At first, he had approached this little junior brother because he had designs on Wei He's Second Sister.

But after getting to know him, he discovered that while Wei He was quiet and reserved on the surface, he was tenacious, true to his word, and often possessed extraordinary insight.

As time went on, Cheng Shaojiu instead developed an interest in befriending Wei He.

Wei He, meanwhile, held no ill feelings toward this somewhat flighty Third Senior Brother.

Thus, the two grew acquainted and close.

"I still can't manage the second row. I haven't been training strength for long enough," Wei He said, shaking his head as he gently set down the slightly smaller stone in his hands. He moved his joints.

"No rush, no rush. There's a music gathering this afternoon in a Town south of the city. I heard a renowned pipa master will be there this time, so the performance is sure to be extraordinary. I'm planning to listen. Want to come along?"

Cheng Shaojiu treated Wei He differently from the others. This fellow loved putting on airs of elegance, and since Wei He could read and had uncommon insight, Cheng Shaojiu quickly came to regard him as one of his own.

Thus, whenever there was such an event, he would always inform him at the first opportunity.

Although Wei He had never gone even once, Cheng Shaojiu's tireless invitations probably contained more than a trace of showing off.

After all, in times like these, those who could still go listen to music would not be poor commoners.

"No, Third Senior Brother. What about the matter I asked you to look into? Any news?" Wei He rested briefly, then picked up another stone and continued training.