Practicing Martial Arts

"The first eight frames of the Five Force Fist are a skill that demands sweat to grind through. Wen Zheng, how about it? Do you feel like you've grown taller?"

Seeing a hint of surprise on Feng Xiu's face, Zhou Gang walked up, laughed heartily, and asked.

"A little."

Feng Xiu nodded. He truly felt that way.

Not only that, but after finishing the practice, his breathing felt much heavier.

"This isn't an illusion. If you keep training like this, you'll only damage your foundation."

Zhou Gang admitted openly that he was forcing growth prematurely, but then added, "Only by pairing it with the right medicinal bath method can you absorb the fruits of that grinding into yourself and stabilize your martial foundation."

From the very start, Zhou Gang never intended for Feng Xiu to follow the orthodox path of cultivation.

Martial arts—poverty breeds letters, wealth breeds martial skill.

The poor have their own way of training, relying on basic stances as a foundation, needing horse stance and post work to grind the bones.

As a wealthy merchant family, the Feng Clan naturally lacked no resources.

Even so, skipping the foundational stages of martial arts—if he himself gave up easily—no amount of resources would be of any use.

Fortunately, Feng Xiu persevered.

"Go rest for now. Get familiar with the Five Force Fist first. Once you can fully execute all sixteen forms, I'll teach you the Five-Strength Internal Breath Method."

Zhou Gang knew he was exhausted, but still explained in detail what the Internal Breath Method was.

In short, the fist forms were internal, the breath was external, and the order was correct.

The fist forms loosen the tendons and open the bones, stretch the major sinews, and grind the blood and qi.

And the Internal Breath Method was the absolute core of any martial art!

"External techniques and fist frames, supplemented by internal breath, can transform the blood and qi, condensing it into true force."

As Zhou Gang spoke, he pressed his fingers together like a halberd and casually swept them across a round stone table nearby that held tea.

There was no violent impact, no flying stone chips—only a faint, sharp hiss, like a blade slicing through thick paper.

Then, the waist-high stone table slid apart at the one-third mark, slowly falling.

"Boom!"

Half the stone table crashed to the ground, the dull thud rattling Feng Xiu's feet, the severed surface smooth as a mirror.

Feng Xiu's pupils shrank sharply, his heart utterly shaken.

This display—no way.

This wasn't just raw strength; this was damn Sword Qi, and he'd fired it with his fingers!

Feng Xiu swallowed hard, realizing one thing: the level of martial power in this world might be far higher than he'd imagined.

Everyone starting at Wu Song level?

Feng Xiu stared at the half stone table on the ground, unable to speak for a long time. When he finally came back to his senses, he cupped his fists solemnly. "Thank you, Uncle Zhou."

Then, supported by Uncle Zheng, he dragged his sweat-soaked, aching body and limped out of the West Courtyard.

Inside the bedchamber.

In a round wooden tub, amidst the swirling steam, a steady-faced man from the escort team stood.

He held a flat basket, from which he took out unknown medicinal herbs one by one. After tossing in the last skull-shaped herb, the medicinal liquid quickly shifted from murky to a vibrant amber, rippling with faint waves.

The man stirred it for a good while with a wooden stick, a trace of envy flashing in his eyes.

Truly a wealthy family—throwing in all sorts of foundation-strengthening medicines without a care.

Unlike when he trained in martial arts back in the day, he couldn't even get a proper technique.

Suppressing the envy in his heart, the man focused on his work. When the mixed medicinal liquids gradually merged, a knock sounded at the door.

"Greetings, Master Zheng."

"Leave."

With that, the man bowed and withdrew.

Uncle Zheng helped the unsteady Feng Xiu to a seat.

As soon as he sat down, the unbearable, stinging pain from forcibly stretched ligaments and sinews hit him instantly.

"Hiss~" Feng Xiu winced, baring his teeth.

Seeing this, Uncle Zheng chuckled, reached for the restorative herbs the man hadn't finished adding, and slowly spoke while tossing them in.

"Young Master, don't blame Captain Zhou. Your bone age has passed. To cultivate martial arts, you have to use harsh measures."

"Uncle Zheng, you jest. How could I blame him?" Feng Xiu shook his head.

He was a rich young master on the surface, but his inner soul was not.

The saying "no pain, no gain" wasn't something he didn't understand.

Besides, the martial prowess Zhou Gang had displayed had already sparked a unique interest in the path of martial arts within him.

"Young Master, the Five Force Fist that Chief Escort Zhou passed on to you is a martial method that points straight to the Great Way."

"Is it really that miraculous?" Feng Xiu's face showed surprise and doubt. He truly knew nothing about martial arts, and right now, all he felt was pain on top of pain.

Aside from Zhou Gang's explosive combat power, he had no sense that this was some kind of peerless divine technique.

"Young Master, since you've just started, there are some things you need to know first." Uncle Zheng said while testing the water temperature.

"The first realm of martial arts is called Body Refining. You have to combine nurturing and training, opening up the sinews, bones, skin, and membranes before you can move to the next level."

"Once these four steps are complete, advancing step by step, your blood and qi will naturally surge and flourish. Only then do you qualify to touch the threshold of Blood Burning."

He could tell that Feng Xiu was genuinely intent on pursuing this path, so Uncle Zheng explained a bit more.

These words made Feng Xiu click his tongue in amazement. Having just witnessed Zhou Gang's overwhelming combat power, he was abruptly pulled back to the reality of methodical cultivation.

An involuntary tremor stirred in his heart, but he still asked.

"Uncle Zheng, what realm are you at now?"

"Membrane Refining and Organ Clearing. My blood and qi are scattered and broken. In this life, I have no hope for Blood Burning."

Uncle Zheng wiped his hands again, looking at Feng Xiu, who wore a thoughtful expression, and replied.

That made sense. Uncle Zheng had already entered his elderly years; his body and energy were long past their prime.

"Then how many years did you train to reach Membrane Refining and Organ Clearing?"

At this, Uncle Zheng extended his slightly wrinkled five fingers, then folded three together, leaving two standing.

"Two years?"

"No, twenty years."

In an instant, Feng Xiu was shaken.

Twenty years and he hadn't even stepped into the second realm?

For a long moment, he was speechless.

"Young Master, don't worry. When this old servant was young, I had no nourishing medicines. I only trained bitterly, which actually damaged my foundation. But you, Young Master, are different."

Feng Xiu nodded, feeling a slight relief in his heart.

The Feng Clan was a wealthy household with corresponding martial arts resources. Naturally, his cultivation time couldn't be compared to that of an ordinary commoner martial artist.

Besides, he had the Technique Record as an aid. Stepping onto the martial path wasn't anything difficult.

"Oh, right, Uncle Zheng, you haven't told me about Uncle Zhou yet. Has Uncle Zhou crossed Blood Burning?" At this point, Feng Xiu seemed to remember something and asked again.

Zhou Gang wasn't someone who appeared out of nowhere. Just like Feng Ao in his memories.

In his childhood fragments, there were always things Feng Ao said.

"Your Uncle Zhou just founded a courier agency," "I had a fight with your Uncle Zhou," and so on.

Both of them practiced martial arts—Feng Xiu knew that much. His actual contact with Zhou Gang had only been in the past two months.

There were many things he hadn't had time to ask about.

Hearing this, Uncle Zheng was momentarily stunned, then smiled. "Blood Burning? Young Master, you're underestimating Chief Escort Zhou."

Feng Xiu's eyes widened slightly.

"In all of Green Rock City, with a population of over a hundred thousand, fewer than ten people can truly surpass Chief Escort Zhou."

"Young Master, guess what realm he's in?"

"Is he really that strong?"

Uncle Zheng nodded, also noticing Feng Xiu's shock.

"Young Master, no matter how strong Chief Escort Zhou is, that's his business. Now that you've just stepped onto the threshold of martial arts, the more you think, the more distracting thoughts you'll have, and the more you'll fall short."

"Calm your heart and cultivate in peace—that is the true path of martial arts."

Uncle Zheng sighed, then patted the wooden tub, signaling Feng Xiu not to overthink.

Since Uncle Zheng wouldn't say more, Feng Xiu dropped the idea of asking further.

In this regard, Feng Xiu was always good at taking advice. As Uncle Zheng said, asking less, observing more, and training more was the best way to realize power.

Afterward.

Feng Xiu sat on a chair, rested for a moment, then, with Uncle Zheng's help, shed his clothes.

In the medicinal bath tub, the temperature was just right. The warm, soft medicinal liquid seeped in through his pores strand by strand.

Where it passed, a wondrous sensation of scorching heat and coolness intertwined, instantly hitting him, greatly relieving his whole-body fatigue.

Feeling the fullness spreading through his body, that comfort, mixed with a slightly ethereal pleasure, felt like some kind of baptism.

Feng Xiu's eyes closed slightly. He didn't even have the thought to move a finger, letting out a satisfied, trembling sound of enjoyment.

"This is way better than stretching after staying up all night~"

In the room, seeing this, Uncle Zheng smiled faintly, then quietly closed the door and left.