Taking a Master

Chen Jianghe pushed open the paint-peeling wooden door.

The courtyard was not particularly large, paved with blue bricks that had accumulated black-green moss in the crevices. In the corners sat a few scattered stone locks and wooden dummies, their paint mottled and showing signs of age. Several men dressed in washed-out, coarse cloth tunics were practicing their punches with focused intensity.

A young disciple crouched by the entrance, looked up, and glanced at him: "Who are you looking for?"

"I am Chen Jianghe, here to apprentice and learn the fist," Chen Jianghe said, cupping his hands in a salute.

The disciple excitedly shouted toward the house: "Senior Brother He! Someone is here to apprentice!"

A response came from within, and before long, a lean man in his thirties walked out. He wore a faded gray cloth tunic with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing two well-defined, muscular forearms. His face was square and rigid, devoid of any expression.

He looked Chen Jianghe up and down, his voice flat: "Follow me."

Chen Jianghe followed him through the front courtyard.

The backyard appeared even more dilapidated than the front. Broken clay pots were piled in the corners, and a bamboo lounge chair sat beneath an old locust tree.

A withered old man in his fifties lay on the chair, sipping wine with a dish of salted edamame, his other hand idly cracking melon seeds.

"Master, someone to apprentice," He Shouzhuo said, standing still, his voice remaining devoid of inflection.

The master of the Li Chengyue Xingyi Martial Arts Hall didn't even lift his eyelids. He merely let out an "un" from his throat and spat out two melon seed shells: "Where are you from? How old are you?"

"I am from Loach Bay, seventeen this year," Chen Jianghe replied respectfully.

Li Chengyue finally lifted his eyelids, his gaze sweeping casually over Chen Jianghe's face: "A fisherman?"

"Yes. My father disappeared years ago while serving in a corvée labor unit, and I now depend on my mother for survival."

Li Chengyue sat up slowly, placed his wine bowl on a low stool nearby, and beckoned to Chen Jianghe: "Come here."

Chen Jianghe stepped forward twice.

Li Chengyue reached out with his withered hand and kneaded Chen Jianghe's shoulder blades, arms, and waist.

The strength in those fingers was immense, making his joints pop and crack. Chen Jianghe gritted his teeth and endured it without making a sound.

Li Chengyue withdrew his hand and lay back down, his tone languid: "Your aptitude is neither good nor bad—middling at best. But you are a bit old. Starting at this age is difficult!"

Hearing this, Chen Jianghe felt a surge of anxiety, terrified that he might lose this chance to change his fate.

He quickly spoke up: "This disciple can endure hardship! I will certainly practice diligently and never slack off!"

Li Chengyue lifted his eyelids to look at him again, speaking slowly: "What's the rush? Did I finish speaking?"

Li Chengyue leisurely picked up his wine bowl, took a sip, and smacked his lips: "Aptitude is given by the heavens and cannot be changed. But in this world, those willing to put in the grueling work go further than those who are talented but lazy. Since you say you can endure hardship..."

He reached out toward Chen Jianghe, palm upward, and curled his fingers: "Ten taels of silver for one year of tuition. Pay the money, and you can train. Whether you become a dragon or a worm in the future depends on your own fortune."

Upon hearing this, the heavy stone in Chen Jianghe's heart finally dropped. He quickly took out the silver ingot he had prepared from his robes, held it with both hands, and respectfully presented it to Li Chengyue.

Only then did Li Chengyue look at the silver properly. He took it, weighed it in his palm, and tossed it casually to He Shouzhuo: "Record it."

Having said that, he picked up his wine bowl again, took a sip, and jerked his chin toward the other side: "Derong! Stop hiding there watching the fun, get out here! Take the newcomer around and explain the rules."

"Coming, Master!"

The person who answered was a young man of about twenty, dressed in a black, narrow-sleeved satin robe. He strolled in with a leisurely gait.

He held a folding fan in his hand, which he snapped shut with a "swish" before walking over with a smile.

He first cupped his hands to Li Chengyue, then turned to Chen Jianghe, looked him up and down, and tapped Chen Jianghe's shoulder lightly with his fan: "I am Su Derong, the third disciple. From now on, just call me Third Senior Brother."

Su Derong led Chen Jianghe around the front courtyard at a leisurely pace, his folding fan occasionally opening to fan himself or closing to point things out.

"See this? This is where we practice punches daily. Over there is the equipment room; it has some stone locks, staffs, and blades. They're a bit old, but they still work."

He pointed to a low, small room on the west side: "That's the kitchen. Two meals a day: breakfast at the beginning of the Chen hour, dinner at the beginning of the You hour. The food is just plain tea and rice—it'll fill you up, but don't expect any grease. If you want something better, go buy it outside."

He then used his fan to point to a row of rooms to the north with large communal beds: "Those are the disciple quarters. Newcomers usually sleep by the door or the window. You'll get bitten by mosquitoes in the summer and drink the wind in the winter, but you'll get used to it."

Finally, he turned to a shed in the corner piled with miscellaneous items: "Come, follow me to collect your training uniform."

Su Derong went to the storage room, grabbed a coarse cloth tunic made from old fabric—the same kind worn by the men seen earlier—and tossed it to Chen Jianghe.

"Catch. This is it. It's a leftover from some previous senior brother; if the size doesn't fit, make do, and if it tears, sew it yourself."

Chen Jianghe took the clothes and nodded silently.

"Alright, follow me. Next, I will teach you the basics of Xingyi Fist!"

Upon hearing that he was to be taught the fist techniques, Chen Jianghe's heart warmed, and he said: "Thank you, Third Senior Brother!"

Chen Jianghe was filled with curiosity about the Xingyi Fist of this world. He wondered if it was truly like the legends from his past life: "Ten years of Taiji won't get you out the door, but one year of Xingyi can kill a man!"

He hoped that he, too, could rely on "Xingyi Fist" to secure his place in this chaotic world.

Su Derong led Chen Jianghe back to the courtyard, stopped in front of a wooden dummy, turned around, leaned his back against it, and crossed his arms: "We don't have many people here. Including you, there are only about ten disciples right now. As for the rules, there aren't many. Master is too lazy to set too many restrictions, but before you start martial arts, I have to tell you a few things."

Chen Jianghe cupped his hands respectfully: "Please instruct me, Senior Brother."

Su Derong nodded and held up four fingers, pressing them down one by one:

"First, the Master is supreme. Whether he is right or wrong, don't talk back; just listen."

"Second, before you've completed your apprenticeship, don't mention outside that you practice Xingyi Fist, and never go looking for trouble. It's embarrassing."

"Third, disciples are forbidden from fighting each other. If you settle things privately, regardless of who is in the right, you'll both be kicked out."

"Fourth, and this is the most important rule—"

Su Derong leaned in closer and lowered his voice: "When Master is drinking, never go and bother him. If he's in a good mood, he might teach you a move or two; if he's annoyed, getting a beating would be the least of your worries."

Chen Jianghe twitched his mouth: "Many thanks for the advice, Senior Brother."

Su Derong set down his fan and said sternly: "Since you've joined the school, I will first explain the foundation of our Xingyi Fist. Xingyi Fist, also called Mind-Intention Six-Harmony Fist, emphasizes hard strikes and aggressive advances. Better to think of advancing than to pause for a single thought. It is a true killing art, not some 'showy' performance style meant for street busking."

He patted a wooden post and continued: "Since you are a newcomer, your first hurdle isn't learning to punch, but 'exchanging strength'."

"Exchanging strength?"

Su Derong extended his hand and slowly curled his five fingers into a fist: "Correct! Ordinary people generate force by tensing their muscles. But muscular strength has its limits and fatigues easily. We martial artists must train the strength of the tendons and bones."

Suddenly, he struck the wooden post with a punch.

"Bang!"

"See that? This isn't brute muscular force; it's the tendons and bones expanding. The force rises from the ground, flows through the entire body, and finally penetrates out from the knuckles." Su Derong withdrew his hand. "The first lesson you must learn is to change your habit of using muscular force to using the strength of your tendons and bones."

He walked to the open space in the center of the courtyard, stood half-crouched, stepped his left foot forward, extended his left hand to chest height, kept his right hand against his navel, gazed at his left fingertips, and shifted his center of gravity to his right leg. He struck a pose that looked simple yet was incredibly awkward.

"This is the 'Three-Body Stance', the method for practicing the exchange of strength and the source of all techniques in Xingyi Fist. If you can stand it properly, you have entered the gate; if you can't, you will never touch the threshold in your entire life."

Chen Jianghe mimicked his posture, but felt awkward all over, his center of gravity unstable and his arms aching.

Su Derong circled around him, patting here and pressing there: "Crown of the head suspended, shoulders sunk, waist tucked, hips seated... Yes, just like that, hold it."

After standing for less than ten breaths, Chen Jianghe felt his thighs trembling and sweat beading on his forehead.

Su Derong laughed: "Uncomfortable, isn't it? It's good that it's uncomfortable. Only when you can stand in this position with a calm and steady breath, as if standing on level ground, will your 'exchange of strength' be considered initiated. As for the martial realms beyond 'exchanging strength', there is no point in me telling you now; everything depends on you succeeding in 'exchanging strength' first."

He stepped back two paces and folded his arms: "Although Master has accepted your one-year tuition, I'll say the ugly part upfront: if you cannot master the foundation of this tendon and bone strength within a hundred days, this hundred-day foundation-building will be considered a failure, and the true teachings of Xingyi Fist will have nothing to do with you."

He glanced at Chen Jianghe with a half-smile: "Even though your tuition for the year has been paid, when the time comes, you will have no choice but to leave."

Chen Jianghe could only smile bitterly to himself, thinking that this cheap martial arts school was indeed full of traps.

However, he remained respectful on the surface, cupped his hands and said: "This disciple will certainly study and practice diligently, and will not let down the guidance of Master and Senior Brother."

Su Derong nodded, picked up the folding fan at his waist, snapped it open, and strolled toward the backyard.

Chen Jianghe set up the Three-Body Stance just as he had been shown.

The posture, which looked simple, was fraught with difficulties when actually performed.

Standing half-crouched, left foot stepped forward with the heel aligned to the right foot, left hand extended to chest level, right hand against the navel, eyes fixed on the left index finger, center of gravity shifted to the right leg, the whole body upright and centered.

In just a few breaths, he felt all the muscles in his body fighting against each other; soreness, swelling, numbness, and pain surged up all at once, and fine beads of sweat quickly seeped from his forehead.

He gritted his teeth and held on, adjusting his breathing, trying to feel the process bit by bit.

He didn't know how much time had passed, but just as his legs began to tremble uncontrollably, that familiar panel appeared in his mind:

[Fate: Heaven rewards diligence, success is inevitable]

[Current Skill: Three-Body Stance (Not Initiated)]

[Progress: 1%]

[Effect: None]

Chen Jianghe looked at the "1%" progress, took a deep breath, and slowly withdrew his stance.

Although his whole body was aching, his heart had settled.