Vajra Fist

"Is this the Mountain God?"

"We were all deceived!"

"Poor our cattle and sheep!"

Beside the collapsed body of the pangolin, the herders cursed furiously.

Some were still so angry that they went to the Mountain God priest's corpse and cursed and stomped on it.

"Yuan Tianzong, my friend, thank you for your help!"

Jiege hurried over to Yuan Tianzong with Dorje and Wada, expressing his heartfelt gratitude.

The old herder and the rest of the herders quickly gathered around as well, offering their thanks.

Without Yuan Tianzong, they would have lost many more cattle and sheep this time, and struggled through the winter.

"It was nothing, really."

"It may be nothing to you, but to us, it was everything. If it weren't for you, my daughter Dawa would have been in danger. Tianzong, you must stay one more night and give me the chance to repay you!"

Yuan Tianzong, who had disappeared to who-knew-where, readily agreed.

That night, the herders brought out their finest liquor and fattest cattle and sheep for Yuan Tianzong.

Around the bonfire, people sang and danced, giving voice to the joy in their hearts.

The celebrations continued late into the night, and Yuan Tianzong eventually returned to his tent.

The cold moonlight shone over the vast Kunlun Mountains.

A voice reached his ears in the chilly wind.

Yuan Tianzong, who had not yet lain down, stepped out of his tent again and looked toward the sound.

In the cold wind, Dorje was still practicing his fist techniques.

Though the crisis had been quelled by Yuan Tianzong's arrival, Dorje was deeply dissatisfied with his performance that day.

He knew in his heart that if he hadn't been lucky enough to meet Yuan Tianzong and treated him courteously, he would have been separated from his younger sister forever.

Their guest had only been passing through.

What if something like this happened again?

Could he really hope that another 'Yuan Tianzong' would appear?

In the end, his cultivation was still inadequate. He didn't have the ability to resolve such a crisis.

Whoosh, whoosh!

The wind whistled around his fists. Dorje repeated the same set of moves again and again until he was utterly exhausted. Then he plopped down and panted heavily.

He stared at the sweat dripping in front of him, his chest still heaving violently.

"Dorje, that's not how you practice your fists."

Yuan Tianzong's sudden words roused Dorje from his exhaustion.

He turned and saw Yuan Tianzong, then scrambled to his feet. His reserved, sensitive nature made him want to call him 'brother,' but he worried it might seem like he was trying to curry favor.

"Benefactor, did I disturb your rest?"

Yuan Tianzong shook his head and didn't correct the way Dorje addressed him.

"Practicing fists is different from other disciplines. First, you need to temper and strengthen your body. Then you can combine that with techniques like directing your force and controlling your breath to deliver the most powerful punches."

"If you just keep practicing the moves as you have been, you might get faster and faster, but you'll soon hit a bottleneck. It would be even worse if you damaged your body."

In Dorje's eyes, Yuan Tianzong was now an extraordinary figure, a master whose skill surpassed even his father's and that of every martial artist he had ever seen.

So Dorje listened to his words with an open mind.

"Benefactor, I, I..."

I only know these techniques. Even if I want to change, I don't know where to start.

Yuan Tianzong understood his predicament.

Though martial arts were flourishing in this era, most ordinary people were either held back by a lack of money or unable to find a way in. They couldn't begin their cultivation. And even those who did often struggled to find proper instruction.

Yuan Tianzong stepped in front of Dorje and began feeling the bones around several of his joints.

A good constitution was crucial in fist training, since the body was its foundation.

Bone-reading was a basic skill for an experienced fist-fighting instructor.

Some people had large, sturdy frames; some had unusually shaped arm bones; others were born with exceptionally flexible bones...

Different bone structures suited different styles of boxing.

As Yuan Tianzong examined him, Dorje felt overwhelmed by the honor. Even when Yuan Tianzong squeezed hard enough to hurt, he didn't dare make a sound.

Before long, Yuan Tianzong had finished examining his bones.

"Dorje, your constitution isn't very good," Yuan Tianzong said frankly.

The words fell on Dorje's ears, and the world seemed to fall silent.

Coming from a master like Yuan Tianzong, they meant that Dorje truly wasn't cut out for martial arts. No wonder his progress had been so slow.

He couldn't hide his disappointment; it crept into the corners of his eyes.

"Thank you, Benefactor. I understand. I never expected to become especially powerful. I only hope to protect my family as best I can," Dorje said quietly, clenching his hands, their palms covered in calluses from practicing fists.

Yuan Tianzong chuckled. "You may lack talent, but you're practicing fists. If you were cultivating the sword, the spear, poison, or some other path, you'd find it hard to achieve anything without a stroke of luck."

Dorje looked up, a glimmer of hope in his eyes.

"Benefactor, you mean..."

"Fist training takes talent, too. Constitution comes first, perseverance second. The saying 'Heaven rewards the diligent' applies especially well to fist techniques."

Dorje called out eagerly, "I can take hardship! I really can!"

"Good. Then I'll teach you a set of fist techniques. Remember, perseverance is paramount. You'll need to practice every day, tempering your body and honing your will."

Dorje nodded firmly. "I'll keep practicing every day without fail!"

"Good. Watch carefully and learn. I'll demonstrate it only three times."

As he spoke, Yuan Tianzong took a light step, planting his feet firmly on the ground. His entire bearing changed in that instant.

Dorje's pupils trembled again and again.

In his eyes, Yuan Tianzong, practicing his fists, seemed to become a mountain weathered by wind and rain for ten thousand years.

The first time was to help him memorize the stance.

The second time was to help him remember how to breathe while practicing.

The third time was to show him how the two worked together in harmony, flowing endlessly.

When he was done, Yuan Tianzong didn't ask whether Dorje had remembered the moves. He simply turned and walked toward his tent. Whether Dorje could master them, and how far he could go, was up to fate.

"Benefactor!"

"Hmm?" Yuan Tianzong glanced back.

"What's this set of fist techniques called?"

Yuan Tianzong thought for a moment, then smiled. "You wanted to become a Vajra, didn't you? Then it's called Vajra Fist."

"All right, Vajra Fist. I'll remember it!"

The night passed in the blink of an eye.

At dawn, Dorje jolted awake from his drowsy sleep, sprang up, rushed out of his tent, and ran toward Yuan Tianzong's tent.

"Father, where's the Benefactor?"

Gyej said, "He just left."

"What? Why didn't you wake me?"

Before Gyej could answer, Dorje sprinted off in the direction Yuan Tianzong had gone.

He ran for several kilometers, but still couldn't find Yuan Tianzong.

Staring at the majestic mountains in the distance, Dorje took a deep breath and shouted, "Benefactor! Thank you!"

His voice echoed across the land.

Thump.

Amid the repeated echoes, Dorje suddenly dropped to his knees and kowtowed again and again, each thud heavy. Blood appeared on his forehead.

"Benefactor, I'll work hard to master these fist techniques!"

"Thank you! Thank you!"

"I hope we'll meet again someday!"

In the distance, Yuan Tianzong turned back and listened to the echoes resounding through the mountains. He smiled and continued on his way.

"Kid, I'm not going to be your master. Kowtowing won't change that."