Five days later.
The front courtyard of the Sun Clan Martial Arts School, Chengping Ward.
The sunlight was just right, dispelling some of the winter chill.
On the bluestone-paved training ground, Yang Jing stood to one side, watching Jiang Haoyang practice the basic moves of the Mountain Collapse Fist.
Jiang Haoyang held a horse stance, his movements taking proper shape, though his punches still lacked some ferocity.
He was stuck at the bottleneck before Bright Strength and had yet to break through.
Every punch carried the abundant vigor unique to youth. Fine beads of sweat soon covered his forehead and trickled down his cheeks.
"Sink your shoulders, drop your elbows," Yang Jing said at just the right moment, his voice clear and firm. "When you punch, don't think only about using your arms. Try drawing on the strength of your waist and abdomen, channeling it upward from below. That will make your punches steady."
As he spoke, he stepped forward and gently pressed Jiang Haoyang's shoulders, helping adjust his posture. "See? When you sink down like this, don't your feet feel steadier? Start the punch from your lower back, drive your shoulders, then carry it through to your fist. The force has to flow like water, without a break."
Jiang Haoyang adjusted as instructed and tried channeling strength from his waist and abdomen into his fists. His punches did feel steadier, no longer as light and insubstantial as before.
Gritting his teeth, he practiced the three basic moves-chop, smash, and collapse-once more, stopping only when Yang Jing nodded.
By the time he finished, Jiang Haoyang was drenched in sweat, his chest heaving. He picked up the towel draped nearby and wiped his face, his cheeks flushed with excitement. "Thank you, Senior Brother!"
He wiped the sweat from his temple and