Arhat Fist, Arhat Gong.
As he continued to practice, Li Su gradually discovered the secrets of these two techniques.
Nurturing qi and refining qi were not their core purpose.
Their true purpose was to develop the body.
The hard, forceful power of Arhat Fist was already extremely domineering. After refining his qi through Arhat Gong, that fierce power grew even stronger.
It was like an iron blade, hammered again and again until the impurities were driven out and its edge grew sharper.
As time went by, that Extreme Gang Qi grew ever sharper. When he circulated it, even his meridians could barely endure it.
It was too violent, too powerful.
At first, Li Su almost thought he had practiced it wrong. He hurriedly stopped, not daring to continue visualizing. He even put Arhat Fist aside for several days, afraid to increase his internal energy any further.
For many days, he recited Buddhist scriptures without stopping, thinking perhaps his Buddhist practice wasn't strong enough to suppress the technique's violent nature. But after reciting them over and over, he realized it was completely useless.
Faced with this result, Li Su was torn.
Had he practiced it wrong?
He really wanted to ask someone—no, he should say he wanted to ask Kongming the monk whether the other man was trying to swindle him. Could this thing really be practiced like this?
After enduring it for a while, Li Su decided he couldn't go on this way. Once he had formed a Circulation Realm, his internal energy continued to grow day and night, but compared with his usual cultivation, the difference was enormous. Li Su had grown used to a year's practice being equivalent to nineteen years. Being made to return to normal all at once was truly miserable. After all, he was cultivating now so he could return to the real world in the future. How could he stop because of this?
Worse still, even when his energy increased naturally, he felt as if needles were stabbing him whenever he circulated it. He couldn't even sleep well. After all, who could stand feeling as though Rong Momo were beside them, jabbing them with needles all day and all night?
So, almost a month later, Li Su went to find Tianming.
When Tianming saw Li Su arrive, he steadied the unsettled thoughts that had plagued him for nearly a month.
That made sense. In the thousand years since the Arhat Divine Art had been created, only a handful had managed to master it. In the past century, not a single person had succeeded. Even he was still stuck outside the gate, unable to enter.
Li Su had trained his Arhat Fist stance well, but Tianming wasn't lacking in that regard either. When it came to Arhat Gong, both of them were equally unable to make progress.
Fine.
He might as well give up on the idea. The Arhat Divine Art ended here. It was a little laughable that the mighty Arhat Hall had no one who could practice this divine art, but there was no helping it. It wasn't that the ancients had been too clever; it was simply that old methods weren't necessarily suited to modern practice. After all, most ancient rites and laws had long since been abolished.
As for what the abbot had said earlier, he could recommend Xuancheng.
That boy was pretty good. He had nothing to say about his Vajra Palm, and his Great Strength Vajra Palm had already reached a certain level of mastery. Then there was Xuanci, who had made decent progress too and had already begun to grasp the Great Strength Vajra Palm. With those two youngsters, it wasn't as if they could hold up the sky, but they were good enough to serve as the sect's public face.
After all, Buddhist martial arts were different from those quick-to-learn techniques. They held to the principle that ginger grew hotter with age, didn't they?
The more he thought about it, the calmer Tianming felt. He even sensed that he was approaching transcendence. That was good. He would go recite the scriptures later; perhaps he would find some insight today.
Thinking this, the old monk felt his mind rise to a higher plane.
It was all his senior brother's fault. Tianming had only meant to register and report the matter. He hadn't had any particular thoughts about it, and even if he had, it had only been a little hope that Li Su might produce some results. But then the other man had gone on and on, unsettling his Zen mind. Later, he'd have to debate his senior brother. Shaolin Temple was a Buddhist sect. How could they be like those violent fellows in the martial world? As the saying went, let him be strong as he may, the bright moon still shone over the great river. Step back, and the sky would be wider. Covetousness? Was Shaolin Temple's martial arts easy to learn? He only needed to keep a calm mind. If he wanted to practice, then let him practice. Without understanding Zen or the Buddha's intent, he would only risk going mad through misdirected cultivation.
As long as they protected the sect's basic heart method, nothing else mattered much.
Hadn't he, the old monk, practiced the Arhat Divine Art for thirty years and still been pacing outside its gate?
Seeing Li Su's anxious expression, the old monk felt like giving him a lecture.
He had already explained how difficult the Arhat Divine Art was. Unless you studied it for three or five years, you wouldn't even see its shadow, let alone find the entrance.
He said, "Have you been unable to grasp the entry level? Alas, Xuankong, all this time, I thought you were the least restless and most able to endure loneliness among this generation of disciples with the Xuân character in their names. Your Arhat Fist training is different from your senior brothers'. They focus more on practicing the fist techniques, while you neither compete nor fight for attention, devoting yourself to cultivation. You've mastered the stance and nurtured its rhythm. That was why I decided to pass Arhat Gong on to you. I thought you could quiet your mind and practice.
"But look at you. It's been less than a month, and you've already lost patience. Since the Arhat Gong was created, which of the eminent monks who mastered it didn't cultivate it painstakingly? Even the rare geniuses in history needed at least half a year to grasp the entry level.
"You've practiced for barely a month. How could you have glimpsed its true meaning? Still, if you feel you can't keep at it, I can teach you another method of cultivation."
As he spoke, disappointment appeared on the old monk's face.
Mm, that lecture had gone well. If Xuankong had even a little competitive spirit, he should be able to keep going for a while longer.
Practicing martial arts had never been easy.
With Arhat Fist as his foundation, he could keep practicing for another thirty or fifty years. After accumulating enough experience, he could switch techniques in his twenties or thirties and transform in a single leap after reaching his forties or fifties. Becoming a first-rate expert would be no dream. After all, Shaolin Temple had never advocated the notion of youthful geniuses. Their way was to enter the field in their thirties or forties, reach their peak in their fifties or sixties, and become peerless in their eighties or nineties.
Thinking back, he had done fairly well in his day. He had practiced Arhat Gong for three whole years without finding the entrance, then couldn't resist asking his master. His master had called him a wooden-headed fool and said that if he couldn't master it in a year, he should have come sooner; if he still couldn't manage it after three years, why keep at it? After all, whether one could master the Arhat Divine Art depended entirely on one's comprehension. Still, since he had persevered so long, his resolve was firm enough, so his master had passed Flower-Plucking Finger on to him.
If Xuankong went back and kept at it for a year or so, Tianming could consider teaching him a unique skill.
At Tianming's words, Li Su froze, feeling a little miserable.
Even a rare genius needed half a year? He had come after only one month. Wasn't that a bit much?
Since he had already drawn the old monk's attention by asking to learn Arhat Gong, if he claimed he had mastered it now, wouldn't he become the center of attention?
Should he go back, then?
Go back my foot. The daily sensation of being pricked by needles wasn't impossible to endure, but being unable to cultivate was even more miserable.
Whenever he closed his eyes, all he saw was Rong Momo's old face. He really couldn't bear it.
After hesitating for a while, Li Su made up his mind.
So be it. Let it show.
At most, he might be able to match Xuanci. He certainly wouldn't surpass Xuancheng, whose Great Strength Vajra Palm had already reached a considerable level of mastery. That was an advanced martial art. He had mastered both it and Vajra Palm, one lower and one higher, in just a month. Truly impressive. With Xuancheng drawing attention, Li Su should still fall within an acceptable range.
So Li Su picked up a charcoal pencil and wrote, "No, Master. I've already mastered Arhat Gong. I came today because I have a question I'd like to ask."
"Is that so? You've already mastered it?"
Tianming nodded with a kindly smile. The little fellow was making excuses, wasn't he? Mastered it in a month? What was he thinking? Heh, he understood. He had told his own master the same thing back then. It really brought back memories of his youth.
Fine. Everyone had been young once. He still needed to save face, even if he wasn't especially clever.
Mastered the Arhat Divine Art? Heh. Did the boy really think his master didn't know what it looked like when someone succeeded?
Other techniques were hard to say, but the Arhat Divine Art was different. Once successfully practiced, the internal energy compressed again, forming Extreme Gang Qi. This qi was so rigid and powerful that even the practitioner felt as if needles were stabbing them, as though they had gone mad from misdirected cultivation.
Remembering the excuse he had made back then, the old monk could still vividly recall it. That flick to the forehead had nearly knocked him silly.
As he thought about it, he couldn't help glancing at Li Su's little head. Mm, it looked pretty good. It would probably feel nice to flick.
"Mm, what question do you have?" As if I'd believe you, little fellow. Don't blame me, but you should be honest.
Li Su suddenly shivered, feeling as though someone was watching him with malice. He glanced around but saw nothing amiss. After rubbing his little head, he wrote, "After I mastered it, I found that when I circulated my true qi after visualizing, it felt like needles were stabbing me. The more I did it, the worse it got. Especially lately, I haven't even dared to practice Arhat Fist. Whenever I do, my whole body's meridians feel swollen, and my Twelve Standard Meridians seem ready to tear apart. Master, did I practice Arhat Gong wrong?"
As he said this, Li Su felt rather helpless.
If the problem weren't so serious, almost like misdirected cultivation, he really wouldn't want to reveal himself.
As his words ended, Tianming's raised hand froze in midair.
"What did you say?"
Li Su looked at the old monk's raised hand, confused, and wrote, "When I circulate my qi, it feels like needles are stabbing me, and it's getting worse. Master, did I practice Arhat Gong wrong?"
Hiss—!!!