Ruthless Trampling and Crushing from Yuan Ci

"Ding—please, Young Hero, find a comfortable environment. Great Jianghu will begin for you shortly..."

As the crisp, pleasant female voice rang out, the scene before Wang Anfeng shattered inch by inch. In the blink of an eye, the side room of the apothecary, thick with the scent of medicinal herbs, became Shaolin Temple perched amid towering mountains. Sure enough, night had already fallen. Stars were scattered across the ink-black vault of the sky, while two bean-sized lamps flickered unsteadily in the nearby monks' quarters. Then, with a soft creak, the door opened. Yuan Ci, dressed in a gray monk's robe, slowly stepped outside and looked at Wang Anfeng with mild surprise.

"Anfeng? It is already so late. Why have you come at this hour?"

Wang Anfeng's eyes lit up at the sight of his master. Carrying the boyish pride of someone showing off before an elder, he gave a low cheer. "Master, Master, I fought someone today!"

The corners of Yuan Ci's lips curled up slightly. He raised a hand and beckoned Wang Anfeng over, then placed his palm on the boy's dark hair and gave it an encouraging rub. Smiling warmly, he said,

"Those few hooligans and scoundrels?"

Wang Anfeng froze slightly, scratching his head. "You... you already knew..." His tone carried considerable helpless disappointment. Yuan Ci smiled. "Though your master is trapped within Shaolin Temple, I still know something of what you experience. But I had thought that, given your temperament, you would probably wait until tomorrow to tell me about this. Heh... I had forgotten that you are still only a young boy."

Wang Anfeng's face grew a little hot at those words. Then he heard Yuan Ci continue, "I had intended to speak to you about this tomorrow, but since you have come today, now will do as well. Come, Anfeng. Attack your master using the manner and style you employed when fighting those hooligans today."

Wang Anfeng was slightly stunned. Then he saw Yuan Ci descend the steps of the monks' quarters and stand in the courtyard. His right hand made a casual inviting gesture, his expression peaceful. Clearly, he had not misheard those words. Though simple and honest by nature, Wang Anfeng was not dull-witted. He immediately realized that his master intended to instruct him in Fist techniques. He strode down the steps, suppressed his excitement, first bowed to Yuan Ci, then slowly assumed the stance of Shaolin Long Fist.

Once the fist stance formed, the excitement, unease, and countless distracting thoughts in his heart flowed away like water. His inner breath circulated slowly, and the lean youth's body faintly took on an aura of qi condensed like a mountain. He said, "Master, be careful," then stamped his foot hard and charged fiercely at Yuan Ci with the Vigorous Step Technique. The wind howled around him. When only three steps remained, his right foot slammed into the ground, his left foot stepped forward with the momentum, his left palm swept outward, and his right palm lifted diagonally upward.

His spine twisted to exert force. The insights from today's fight surged into his mind, and he actually fused the charging force of the Vigorous Step Technique into the power and technique of this Calm Heart Palm. The strike became far more solid than before, like a tiger leaping and an eagle swooping, its momentum extraordinary. The instant he threw out the palm, he felt utterly exhilarated. Yet just as his fist momentum reached its peak, Yuan Ci drifted one step backward. His left knee bent, toes touching the ground, his right fist rested by his waist, and the left arm that had been braced atop his right fist smashed downward in passing, striking Wang Anfeng squarely on the wrist.

The youth gave a pained cry, but his heart was filled with shock. Master's move was Shaolin's Step Back Elbow Strike. It defended and counterattacked. His next move must be to draw back with the left elbow and throw out his right fist—the stance of Hanging Elbow Noon Strike. He grew somewhat anxious. The next move after Calm Heart Palm should have been Reverse Elbow Break, which would make his momentum even fiercer, but he absolutely could not use that move now. He immediately sidestepped backward, cutting off that stroke of divine inspiration midway. He regretted it, yet was also glad that he had at least avoided his master's next move.

But at that moment, Yuan Ci's Hanging Elbow Noon Strike changed slightly. The left elbow raised before his shoulder for defense dropped with the motion, then he twisted his body and spun his elbow, using the Reverse Elbow Break that Wang Anfeng had intended to throw to counterattack the youth. Moreover, because of this change, the elbow-breaking stance that should originally have struck the waist and abdomen, severing the opponent's offensive and capturing him, now pointed directly at Wang Anfeng's temple. The bent elbow edge was like the heavy iron lance of a fierce general roaring across a battlefield. Amid a shrill tearing sound, savage and powerful force rushed into his face, nearly leaving Wang Anfeng unable to breathe. His mind went blank in an instant.

Only after several breaths did the youth slowly recover his senses, his legs going weak beneath him. Yuan Ci slowly withdrew his stance and shook his head. "Your master just used the same Fist techniques and internal cultivation as you, yet I could still defeat you with ease."

Wang Anfeng was still young, and this had been his first victorious fight. At those words, a trace of defiance rose within him. "Master, you were clearly cheating! After the eighth stance, Step Back Elbow Strike, the next move should obviously be the ninth stance, Hanging Elbow Noon Strike. Yet Master used the third stance, Reverse Elbow Break!"

Yuan Ci shook his head and asked in return, "Who says Shaolin's thirty-two stances must be used in that order?"

The youth paused. Then he performed a Step Back Elbow Strike, followed it with Hanging Elbow Noon Strike, and only after practicing the sequence once did he say, "Look, every fist move's opening and closing movements are clearly linked to one another. Following the flow makes them not only smoother, but also allows internal force to circulate faster and makes them more powerful. A style like the one Master used just now... not only cannot be linked together, it has many more openings, and it also seems to waste several breaths of time."

As he spoke, he linked Step Back Elbow Strike to Reverse Elbow Break again. After defending and gathering strength, he should have burst forward fiercely, but connecting it to a reverse attack looked indescribably awkward and clumsy. He stopped his movements at once and looked toward his master with a face full of confusion.

Seeing the bewilderment on his disciple's face, Yuan Ci was not annoyed. Instead, he nodded in considerable approval.

"In merely a hundred days, you have been able to think this far on your own. That is indeed not bad. But did you see your master reveal any opening just now?"

The youth was slightly taken aback. Recalling that killing move which had struck like thunder exploding from level ground, he still felt lingering fear. He honestly shook his head.

"No. Master, that move of yours not only had no opening, it was even more powerful... But why exactly was that? This disciple truly does not understand."

Yuan Ci smiled. "That is the essence of Shaolin Long Fist."

"For a thousand years, countless Shaolin masters have all begun with this set of Shaolin Long Fist. Its thirty-two simple stances have already been polished to their peak by generations of eminent monks. The transitions between opening, carrying through, and closing moves can all be adjusted at will. If you thoroughly comprehend the methods of exerting force in every move of this Fist technique, you will naturally be able to connect and transform them as you please."

"At that time, even with only thirty-two stances, you will be able to unleash a hundred continuous strikes, cycling without end. You may wield it as three hundred and twenty stances, or even three thousand stances. Only then can your Shaolin Long Fist be considered barely mastered, and you may go on to learn other techniques."

"A hundred continuous strikes, cycling without end."

Wang Anfeng murmured those eight words quietly. It was as though he glimpsed a world of vast and lofty heights within them, and his heart trembled. The tiny pride from his recent victory was instantly swept clean away. Pressing his palms together, he bowed deeply to Yuan Ci. Then he turned around and, with the same reverent devotion he had possessed when first learning martial arts, practiced this set of Shaolin Long Fist with only thirty-two stances over and over again. Yuan Ci watched his disciple silently from the side, a strange expectant light seeming to flicker in his eyes. He murmured something softly, but it was shattered by the sound of fists tearing through the air and scattered into the night wind.