The Craft in Wood Splitting

Li Xuan took a deep breath and raised his axe.

First strike.

He swung it casually. The axe blade bit into the side of the firewood but didn't split it, getting stuck.

Second strike.

Adjusting his stance, he channeled power from his waist and legs, striking the same spot. A crack appeared in the firewood.

Third strike.

He stared at the center of the wood grain, pushing his waist forward, and swung the axe in an arc, the movement smooth—

CRACK!

The firewood split in two.

The status panel flickered: [Potential: 0.012]

Found it!

Li Xuan's eyes lit up.

It seemed that only by performing the chopping motion with smooth, integrated vital energy and blood could he gain potential.

Perhaps his vital energy and blood were unconsciously mobilized during the movement?

Although Li Xuan had questions, his hands didn't slow down.

Seventh strike, eighth strike, ninth strike... He chopped ten times in a row, and only three strikes triggered potential.

"Kid, so early?"

A voice came from behind him. Li Xuan turned his head. It was the old handyman who had taught him to chop firewood yesterday, walking over with a water bucket.

"Couldn't sleep, so I started working," Li Xuan replied.

The old handyman put down the water bucket and glanced at him. "Did you use what I taught you yesterday?"

"I did. It saved a lot of effort."

"Good." As the old handyman spoke, he picked up an axe himself and began chopping slowly.

Li Xuan chopped firewood while observing out of the corner of his eye.

The old handyman's movements were slow, but every swing was precise. When he raised the axe, his waist tilted slightly back; when he brought it down, his waist pushed forward. The axe blade cut into the wood grain almost vertically, leaving the split firewood surfaces as flat as if cut by a knife.

After each swing, the old handyman paused, adjusted his breathing, and then swung again.

Li Xuan mimicked his rhythm, slowing down, aiming for maximum precision with every strike.

Eleventh strike—waist and legs working in unison, aiming for the wood grain, smooth power, coordinated breathing—

The status panel flickered: [Potential: 0.013]

It works!

Slowing down the rhythm improved quality and made gaining potential more stable.

He continued to test.

All morning, Li Xuan repeated the process: chop, observe, adjust, chop again.

By lunchtime, he had figured out the pattern:

The number on the status panel had changed from 0.01 in the morning to [Potential: 0.03].

It was still small, but it was a stable income.

In the afternoon, Li Xuan continued.

This time, he tried a more extreme application of force.

Not brute strength, but "skillful force"—when the axe reached its highest point, he pressed his entire body weight down, and his waist and legs instantly exerted force, like a released spring.

CRACK!

The firewood split open, the surface as smooth as a mirror.

The status panel flickered violently: [Potential: 0.032]!

It doubled!

Li Xuan's heart pounded. He had found the trick—the force needed to be unified, smooth, and concentrated at a single point.

He continued to experiment.

He aimed for this "unified force" with every swing.

The success rate wasn't high; only two or three out of ten swings achieved it.

But when it worked, it yielded 0.002.

By the time work ended in the evening, the status panel showed: [Potential: 0.07].

Moreover, his body felt better, and his control over his strength had clearly improved.

He used to exert force randomly, but now he exerted it precisely.

"Kid, you chopped well today."

The old handyman walked over again and glanced at the pile of firewood Li Xuan had chopped—the firewood was of uniform size, and the cut surfaces were flat.

"It's all thanks to your excellent teaching," Li Xuan said.

The old handyman shook his head, said nothing, and walked away.

But after a few steps, he turned back: "Starting tomorrow, you'll be fetching water."

Li Xuan was stunned.

Fetching water was a more tiring job, requiring him to carry water from the spring at the back of the mountain to the martial arts school, a round trip of three li. But since the old handyman said so, there must be a reason.

"Okay," Li Xuan nodded.

At night, in the communal sleeping quarters of the woodshed.

The other newcomers fell asleep as soon as they lay down, exhausted, but Li Xuan couldn't sleep. He looked at his status panel:

[Li Xuan]

[Strength: 0.63]

[Agility: 0.57]

[Stamina: 0.88]

[Spirit: 1.4]

[Cultivation Method: None]

[Potential: 0.07]

0.07 potential, how should he use it?

His physique was already 0.88, close to the healthy line. His strength, 0.63, was still a weak point.

But starting tomorrow, he'd be fetching water—a job that required strength in his shoulders, waist, and legs.

If he increased his strength today, would fetching water tomorrow be easier? Would it trigger potential while fetching water?

[Strength: 0.63] → [Strength: 0.68]

[Stamina: 0.88] → [Stamina: 0.90]

A warm current surged through his limbs. He closed his eyes, feeling the changes in his body.

Tomorrow, fetching water, he would continue to test.

If fetching water could also trigger potential, then what about sweeping, carrying, or even... practicing martial arts?

He remembered the old handyman's words: "Starting tomorrow, you'll be fetching water."

Li Xuan rolled over and looked at the corner opposite him—the old handyman lay there, breathing evenly, as if asleep.

But Li Xuan had a feeling that the old man wasn't asleep.

He was observing.

Just as Li Xuan was observing the patterns of chopping wood, the old handyman was observing Li Xuan.

Why?

Li Xuan didn't know.

But he knew one thing: in this martial arts school, there was no kindness without reason.

The old handyman taught him chopping techniques and told him to fetch water—either he wanted to use him, or he was testing him.