Apprenticeship

It was a two-courtyard compound.

The open space of the Outer Court was strewn with wooden posts, stone locks, and weapons such as sabers, spears, swords, and halberds.

Overlapping shouts and cries of exertion rushed at him.

Seven or eight men were training on the Blue Bricks, their bronze-colored bodies gleaming with oil beneath the blazing sun. The dull thuds of stone locks striking the ground made the soles of one's feet tingle.

A middle-aged man sat in a grand armchair in the corner.

He wore a faded brown short jacket. His exposed arms were knotted with muscles and covered in old scars of varying depths, like the gnarled roots of an ancient tree.

A dark iron ruler lay across his knees. This man was Zhou Liang.

The lean man stepped forward and said in a low voice, "Master, someone has come to take you as his master."

Zhou Liang swept his gaze over Chen Qing. "Where are you from? How old are you?"

Chen Qing hurriedly cupped his fists. "This junior is Chen Qing, from Yazi Bay. I am seventeen this year. Having long admired Master Zhou's great reputation, I have come especially to take you as my master and learn your skills."

Zhou Liang picked up the iron ruler from his knees. "Born into a fishing household?"

"Yes," Chen Qing answered respectfully.

Zhou Liang reached out and pinched his shoulder blade. That palm was rough as iron sand. When it suddenly exerted force, pain made Chen Qing bare his teeth, yet he stubbornly did not utter a sound.

"Your bones have not fully set, and your sinews have some resilience. You can train."

Zhou Liang weighed the iron ruler in his hand. "Do you know what this is?"

Enduring the pain, Chen Qing replied, "An iron ruler."

"Correct. An iron ruler."

Zhou Liang spoke slowly. "It measures things, and it measures people. It measures your bones and sinews, your courage, and how many strokes of iron your flesh can withstand."

Chen Qing immediately said, "This disciple can endure hardship!"

"You are quick-witted, at least."

Zhou Liang nodded faintly, then abruptly changed tack. "Let me put the ugly words first: tuition is required to teach you. If you cannot pay on time, do not blame the ruler for showing no mercy and driving you out! Have you thought it through?"

He had never taught out of charity. He had to make a living too.

"I have!" Chen Qing answered in a deep voice, then took out the silver he had prepared long ago and offered it up.

"This silver will cover three months of tuition."

Zhou Liang hefted it in his palm and tucked it into his robes. "From today onward, you will stay in the compound. As for how much skill you can cultivate, that depends on your own fortune."

Chen Qing cupped his fists. "This disciple will surely work himself to the bone, study diligently and train hard, and never let Master down!"

The first step on the road of Learning Martial Arts had finally been taken.

Zhou Liang waved a hand. "Once you have learned some real skill, making a living will not be difficult."

Poor youths learned martial arts mostly for a livelihood, a bowl of rice that let them stand on their own feet. As for truly rising above the rest? That was harder than ascending to heaven.

Zhou Liang lifted his teacup and took a sip. "Sun Shun, show Chen Qing around and explain the rules of the compound."

"Yes!"

A broad, honest-looking man approached in response.

"My name is Sun Shun. From now on, I am your Third Senior Brother."

Sun Shun grinned. "Come on. Senior Brother will show you around."

Sun Shun led Chen Qing on a circuit of the modest compound.

The front courtyard was the training ground, while the Backyard was Master's residence. No one was to enter without invitation.

There was a storeroom, dining hall, and bathhouse. It was small, but it had all the vital organs.

"Our rules are not many, but several are iron laws." Sun Shun's expression turned solemn.

"First, before you graduate, you may not announce the name of our school outside, much less stir up trouble."

"Second, whether smashing someone's school, staking out a dock, or exchanging pointers with another, you must first announce your name and show your colors—make your identity and style clear."

"Third, only when seeking revenge or kicking in a school's gates may you keep your colors hidden and refrain from announcing your name."

"Fourth, respect Master and honor the Way. Fellow disciples are strictly forbidden from harming one another!"

Chen Qing stood to the side and committed every rule to memory.

"Come, follow me to collect a set of training clothes."

Finally, Sun Shun brought him to the storage room and took out a set of coarse cloth garments, faded from washing. The dense stitches at the cuffs showed that they had been mended many times.

Not long after, Zhou Liang, having finished lunch, strolled over. "When you are just beginning, your foundation is most important. These next few days, I will personally instruct you."

Warmth surged through Chen Qing's heart. He nodded heavily. "Thank you, Master!"

He was filled with curiosity and anticipation toward the martial arts of this world.

Were they truly as miraculous as the storybooks from his previous life described?

"Before practicing martial arts, you must first understand what true martial arts are."

Zhou Liang brought him before a row of wooden posts and said gravely, "Martial arts are called 'Martial Arts Style' in the trade. Those who perform in the streets are often peddling what is called Fake Martial Arts—fake goods. Such martial arts demand spectacle, excitement, and the showing off of all manner of techniques."

"Though these movements may look imposing, they violate every taboo of true martial arts. They are only good for fooling ignorant outsiders and country folk. Genuine True Martial Arts cannot attract spectators at all."

"Because true martial arts are Killing Technique."

Zhou Liang's tone was calm, without the slightest ripple.

But waves rose in Chen Qing's heart.

Killing Technique!

This was precisely what he wanted to learn.

After all, in this world, learning flashy but useless techniques was of no use whatsoever.

Zhou Liang continued, "Foundation Establishment in martial arts begins with building up one's qi and blood. Tempering the sinews and bones, standing in stances, and circulating qi are all methods of strengthening qi and blood. Only when qi and blood are filled to their peak can one knock open the gate of Bright Strength."

"Watch carefully."

Zhou Liang suddenly leaped onto the plum-blossom posts, his withered, lean body as light as an ape's.

He assumed a strange posture: his left arm reached forward like an ape catching the moon, while his right fist drew back like a leopard concealing its claws. His legs bent slightly, neither sitting nor standing, his entire body brimming with a coiled, weighty tension that seemed ready to pounce.

"Tongbei Stance Practice takes its intent from 'Ape Arm Reaching Heaven.'" Zhou Liang's voice suddenly became sonorous. "Suspend the crown of your head, align the tailbone, relax the waist, and sit the hips as though sitting on empty air."

"You try."

"Yes, Master!"

Chen Qing imitated him and stepped onto the wooden posts, only to feel the world spin at once.

This seemingly simple posture actually required every muscle in his body to twist taut like hemp ropes, straining against one another.

In less than three breaths, he tumbled down. His elbow scraped across the Blue Bricks, leaving a streak of blood.

This Tongbei Stance Practice was far from simple!

Chen Qing panted heavily and asked, "Master, that qi and blood, knocking through the gate, breaking through Bright Strength you mentioned..."

Zhou Liang explained, "Martial arts cultivation has two stages. One is accumulation; the other is knocking through the gate."

"Standing in stances and tempering strength both nourish your qi and blood. Once your qi and blood reach a peak, you can knock through the gate and elevate your strength. When Tongbei Fist is cultivated to perfection, it allows three attempts at knocking through the gate: Bright Strength, Hidden Strength, and Transformation Force."

"Each time one knocks through the gate, it is an earth-shaking transformation for a martial artist. But the risk of failure is also great, and it can likewise cause some harm to the body. The further along you go, the harder it becomes to knock through the gate."

Hearing this, Chen Qing immediately understood.

Was this knocking through the gate not simply breaking through a bottleneck?

If he wanted to succeed, did that not mean he had to complete the first breakthrough within three months?

At this thought, he could not help asking again, "Master, is the success rate for this first breakthrough high?"

Zhou Liang said lightly, "For ordinary disciples, it is around twenty to thirty percent. The better one's bones, aptitude, and family means, the higher the success rate."

Chen Qing's heart jolted.

The success rate for knocking through the gate was actually this low?

And this was only the first breakthrough!

Bright Strength, Hidden Strength, and Transformation Force clearly required three breakthroughs.

"My Tongbei Fist trains stances internally and fighting methods externally. Only when inside and outside unite is it true Tongbei Fist."

Zhou Liang said lightly, "Start with the stance practice. Once you have tempered your qi and blood to a certain level, I will teach you the fighting methods of Tongbei Fist."

"Yes!"

Chen Qing took a deep breath and stepped onto the wooden posts again.

In an instant, a piercing, sour agony exploded from the soles of his feet and shot through his entire body like lightning.

He clenched his teeth, veins bulging at his temples as sweat the size of beans streamed down. Yet his body remained like Bedrock, rigidly maintaining that twisted posture without moving a fraction.

Time crawled by amid torment.

Chen Qing felt as though his lungs were being seared by a branding iron. Every breath carried the tang of blood. His legs trembled atop the wooden posts like chaff in a sieve, but his toes clawed desperately at the surface, his knuckles turning bluish white.

After nearly half an hour, his coarse training clothes had long since been soaked through with sweat, clinging damply to his body.

Just then, a streak of golden light flashed through his mind:

[Heaven Rewards Diligence, and achievement is certain]

[Tongbei Stance Practice: Beginner (1/500)]

The minor achievement, major achievement, and perfection stages of Tongbei Stance Practice corresponded to the three realms of Bright Strength, Hidden Strength, and Transformation Force.

Chen Qing wiped the sweat from his brow and muttered to himself, "Others need to knock through the gate to break past bottlenecks in martial arts, but as long as I train diligently, I will certainly succeed in knocking through the gate."

According to Zhou Liang, ordinary people had only around a twenty to thirty percent chance. But Chen Qing was different. As long as he cultivated, success was guaranteed.

That was the extraordinary aspect of his destiny.

Heaven Rewards Diligence, and achievement is certain.

Chen Qing was instantly filled with motivation and began training diligently.

By noon, the other disciples in the compound were resting and chatting in groups of two or three. Only he continued repeating the tedious stance movements over and over.

Several fellow disciples came over to greet him. He exchanged a few words with them, then quickly returned to training.

By afternoon, the courtyard was filled with the sounds of panting and exertion.

After practicing Tongbei Fist once more, Chen Qing felt as though every bone and sinew in his body had fallen apart, limp and powerless.

Each step felt like he was treading on soft cotton, unbearably unsteady.

He panted heavily as sweat slid down from his temples.

At that moment, the disciples scattered to sheltered corners to rest, taking out the food kept warm against their chests.

The cold in the compound quickly stole what little warmth remained from the food.

Chen Qing swept his gaze over them and saw disciples from impoverished families hunching their necks as they struggled to gnaw on cornmeal buns frozen hard as rocks, washing them down with cold lumps of pickled vegetables. Every bite looked difficult.

The few from better-off families took out tightly wrapped oil-paper parcels and carefully opened them. Inside were still-warm Fine Flour Steamed Buns, and even several slices of braised meat with congealed fat.

The faint aroma of meat drifted through the cold air, making empty stomachs rumble all the more.

Chen Qing rubbed his stomach as a violent spasm seized him. His dry throat bobbed.

"Junior Brother Chen."

Sun Shun strode over, holding two snow-white steamed buns fresh from the steamer, still billowing white vapor. "It is your first day here, so you probably did not bring food. Every day before morning training, the compound provides something to fill your stomach. Sometimes it is mixed-grain cakes, sometimes Fine Flour Steamed Buns like these. It is all included in the tuition. I saved two buns for you."

"In this freezing weather, training costs strength. You must not practice on an empty stomach. Starting tomorrow, remember to collect yours from the kitchen on time. If your consumption is high and you want to eat better, you will have to bring your own food."

As he spoke, he stuffed the buns into Chen Qing's hands.

A Martial Arts Academy was not a martial arts hall. Many of its disciples came from poor families.

Perhaps what Zhou Liang had in mind was not a few taels of silver, but a road to survival and a glimmer of hope for these people.

"Thank you, Senior Brother!"

Light immediately shone in Chen Qing's eyes as he eagerly accepted them.

The buns were warm and soft in his hands, their steaming wheat fragrance carrying a faint sweetness as it rushed up at him.

Fine white flour was a rare warmth and luxury in this bitter winter for someone born into a fishing household.

"Why be polite? Hurry and fill your stomach." Sun Shun smiled and waved him off before turning away.

Holding the steamed buns, Chen Qing could no longer restrain himself. He opened his mouth and bit down.

The soft, scalding interior carried the sweet fragrance of grain, instantly warming his mouth.

He wolfed them down, swallowing both buns whole in just a few bites.

Warmth rose from his stomach, driving away some of the chill brought on by exhaustion.

He leaned against an icy corridor pillar and rested briefly. The soreness in his body had not completely vanished, but the floating weakness had eased considerably.

Seeing that most of his fellow disciples in the compound were still resting or eating, Chen Qing took a deep breath, straightened his back, and returned to the wooden posts.

He knew that, with the [Heaven Rewards Diligence] destiny, he had to shed more sweat than anyone else.

Round after round, sweat soon soaked every inch of his clothes.

By the time dusk settled on all four sides, he was the only one left in the courtyard.

[Tongbei Stance Practice: Beginner (5/500)]