River-Breaking Fist

"All right, you've heard the rules. It's noon now, so let's go eat first. We'll talk about the rest after you've had your fill."

Zhuang Tao patted Chen Jing on the shoulder, then suddenly added, "Oh, right. Our martial arts school only provides lunch. You newcomers will have to figure out breakfast and dinner yourselves."

He paused, then continued, "Of course, you can eat here at the school if you want... but you'll have to pay."

With that, Zhuang Tao led Chen Jing toward the cafeteria.

By now, the cafeteria was already full. The formal disciples sat on one side, and those who hadn't yet joined sat on the other, with a clear divide between them.

The rich smell of meat drifted through the air. Just breathing it in made Chen Jing's stomach cramp with hunger.

A short while later, Zhuang Tao brought Chen Jing a bowl of rice.

The white rice glistened, each grain plump and full. A few slices of meat, cut fairly thick, sat on top. The aroma of pork fat was so rich it seemed to travel right up his nose and into his brain.

A meal like this would probably cost dozens of copper coins a bowl out on the street.

Zhuang Tao shoved the bowl into Chen Jing's hands and grinned. "Junior Brother, if there's one thing we've got plenty of here, it's rice!"

As soon as he finished speaking, he bent his head and shoveled down a big mouthful.

Seeing that, Chen Jing forgot all about holding back. He picked up his bowl and started stuffing rice into his mouth.

The pork fat mingled with the fragrance of rice and slid down his throat, warming him through. His whole body relaxed, as though the hardships of the past few days were drifting away with the steam.

More importantly, the Exemption Bead needed to absorb vital essence, so the more Chen Jing ate, the lighter and more refreshed he felt.

One bowl, then two, then three... He didn't put down his chopsticks until his belly was round and full.

Seeing how Chen Jing didn't waste a single grain of rice, Zhuang Tao couldn't help laughing. "Junior Brother, with an appetite like yours, it's only a matter of time before you become a formal disciple."

Then he wiped his mouth and continued, "Are you full now? If you are, go wait in the front courtyard. Since you're new today, Master will surely give you a few pointers himself. You won't get many chances like this later."

Seeing that Zhuang Tao had shared all this with him so freely, Chen Jing hurriedly cupped his hands and said solemnly, "Thank you for the reminder, Senior Brother."

Chen Jing had only just taken his place in the front courtyard when Fei Feng came over at an unhurried pace.

Fei Feng looked Chen Jing over, then got straight to the point. "You've just arrived, so let me ask you this: why do you want to practice martial arts?"

Chen Jing thought for a moment before answering, "To strengthen my body and protect myself?"

Fei Feng shook his head. "Wrong."

"Martial arts are for beating other people—and killing them as quickly as possible!"

"If you can beat others, you're strong. If you can't, you're useless. As for building up your health..."

At this, Fei Feng sneered and continued, "That's just a pretty excuse."

Chen Jing felt a jolt in his heart, yet what Fei Feng said struck him as utterly true.

The kind of martial arts that let you beat others—and kill them—fast was exactly what he wanted to learn!

Fei Feng continued, "In martial arts, the first step is to build up your blood and qi. The second is to temper your sinews and bones."

"Building up your blood and qi is the foundation of all foundations, but it's also the most tedious and grueling part. You'll have to keep striking wooden posts until your arms go numb and your bones ache. Even pounding until your skin splits and your hands bleed is nothing. Only when your blood and qi are driven to a boil can you advance."

Fei Feng raised his hand and pointed to a row of black, gleaming wooden posts beside the courtyard.

"Those posts look ordinary, but they've got iron blocks embedded inside. The first time you hit one, you'll wonder if you've broken your hand."

"But you have to endure it if you want to practice martial arts."

Looking at the wooden posts, Chen Jing swallowed and clenched his fist in secret.

Fei Feng continued his explanation. "Our River-Breaking Fist has three stages: Blood Creek, Blood River, and Blood River-Sea."

"These names describe the strength of your blood and qi. Out in the world, they're known as First Blood Martial Artist, Second Blood Martial Artist, and Third Blood Martial Artist."

"Only when your blood and qi have circulated through your body to a certain degree can you be called Blood Creek. Once you reach Blood River, your punches will carry force deep into the marrow of your bones. As for Blood River-Sea... your fists rise like a river tide, and their fall can shatter rocks."

After speaking, Fei Feng looked at Chen Jing, his tone stern once more. "Only when you reach Blood Creek will you truly have joined my River-Breaking Fist and become a formal disciple."

At that, Chen Jing understood. Blood Creek, Blood River, and Blood River-Sea were the ranks of the martial path.

And if he wanted to keep practicing at the River-Breaking Fist school, he had to reach Blood Creek within three months.

"Blood Creek means your blood and qi flow through your body like a small stream, with rhythm and force. When you throw a punch, your blood and qi surge. When you stop, they flow back slowly instead of scattering."

After finishing, Fei Feng suddenly stopped talking and stepped back half a pace.

"Come. Take a stance with me."

Fei Feng stood with his legs naturally spread shoulder-width apart, knees slightly bent and toes turned a little inward.

He raised both arms as if embracing a heavy earthenware vat. His fingers curled slightly, the web between his thumb and index finger stretched open. His stance looked relaxed, yet a taut, twisting force seemed to run through his whole body.

The posture was strange, but he stood as firm as a rock.

"This is the River-Severing Stance."

Fei Feng continued, "Holding this stance will make your legs ache, hurt, go numb, and swell, as if someone were driving needles into your sinews and bones. But if you can hold steady, it'll help you gather blood and qi and nourish your sinews and bones. It's the first step toward Blood Creek."

"Give it a try."

"Yes, Master!"

Chen Jing took a deep breath and immediately copied the stance Fei Feng had just shown him.

But after barely ten seconds, his legs suddenly trembled!

A strange, aching pain seized him, as though someone had pulled the sinews from both legs, stretched each one taut, and then twisted them viciously back into place.

His knees felt as if they had hot stones stuffed inside them, his ankles as if they were filled with lead. His whole body seemed ready to collapse at any moment.

"Hold your stance."

Fei Feng glanced at Chen Jing and continued, "It's normal not to be able to hold it the first time. If you can't hold it, stand again. If you still can't, keep standing."

"Only when you can hold it for an entire day without stopping will you have laid a proper foundation."

"With our River-Breaking Fist, we train the stance on the inside and the fist on the outside. A steady stance makes for steady punches. If your stance is unstable, your punches are just fancy moves."

Hearing this, Chen Jing gritted his teeth and forced himself to steady his body. "Yes!"

He adjusted his posture again, turned his toes inward, and raised his arms as if embracing a heavy vat.

Before taking his second stance, Chen Jing prepared himself mentally.

This time, he held on for a full sixty seconds.

In the end, it still felt as though his legs were cramping to the point of snapping, and he nearly dropped to his knees. But he clenched his teeth and held himself upright.

Fei Feng took a look and nodded.

"Not bad."

With that, he said no more and turned to leave.

The courtyard fell quiet. Only the wind stirring the leaves could be heard.

Time flew by, yet dragged on until it felt like it could drive a man mad.

All Chen Jing could feel was ache, pain, numbness, and swelling.

The four sensations mingled together, like countless nails stabbing, twisting, and prying at both his legs.

At times, the pain was like fire scorching him. At others, his whole legs seemed no longer to belong to him, utterly numb.

Chen Jing's veins bulged across his forehead. Sweat dripped down his face, soaking his chin, and his shirt clung tightly to his back.

Still, he held his stance, motionless.

Because he knew that if he relaxed even a little now, he wouldn't even have made it through the first step of cultivating his blood and qi.

If he gave up now, he'd remain a wretched man pulling a rickshaw on the street forever.

Chen Jing clenched his teeth. His face was flushed red, and he didn't move an inch.

He had no idea how much time had passed before Zhuang Tao's voice finally reached his ears. "Junior Brother, that's enough. You've done plenty. Take a break."

There was a trace of surprise in Zhuang Tao's voice. "It's your first time taking the stance, and you've held it for this long. That's already impressive. If you keep going, you'll only injure your sinews."

Hearing Zhuang Tao's words, Chen Jing felt as if he'd been pulled out of deep water. His whole body nearly collapsed.

His legs were so numb they wouldn't obey him. They were stiff as wooden posts, yet still ached faintly.

"Come, have some soup first."

Zhuang Tao helped Chen Jing over to the eaves, explaining as they walked, "The rules here at River-Breaking Fist are that, besides providing lunch, we also prepare Blood-Qi Soup in the afternoon for disciples practicing their stances."

"It's a special formula Master put together. It replenishes your qi, invigorates your blood, relaxes your sinews, and eases the aches. Anyone who pays can have a bowl."

Chen Jing took the wooden bowl. The medicinal soup inside was deep red and thick as ox blood, yet it carried a distinctive herbal fragrance.

Chen Jing tipped his head back and gulped it down. His throat immediately burned as if he'd swallowed scalding liquor!

But the next moment, the Blood-Qi Soup spread out from his chest.

His legs, stiff as stone moments before, seemed to loosen up a little, as if they'd been soaked in hot water.

His whole body felt a little lighter, and a warm current seemed to flow faintly through his chest.

"It really works that well..."

Chen Jing couldn't help murmuring in amazement.

Zhuang Tao smiled and patted Chen Jing on the arm. "Give it a few days, and you'll see how precious this soup is. We depend on it every day just to get by."

"Come on. Rest for the time it takes to drink a cup of tea. After that, I'll teach you how to strike the wooden posts."