Hunyuan Staff Technique

The next day, early morning.

Chu Yan opened his eyes from his meditation, a flash of brilliance flickering through his pupils.

He had not slept a wink last night, yet he felt no fatigue; instead, he felt refreshed and full of energy.

Within his dantian, his soul power was a sliver thicker than it had been the night before.

He rolled out of bed and walked over to the mirror.

The boy in the reflection stood tall with refined features, his pitch-black eyes deep and bright, looking nothing like a six-year-old child.

Chu Yan clenched his fist, feeling the surging power within his body.

Since awakening his martial soul, his physical fitness had undergone a qualitative leap.

Strength, speed, reflexes... every aspect far surpassed his peers, even rivaling some two-ring Great Soul Masters.

After a quick wash, Chu Yan changed into a black training suit and pushed open his bedroom door.

In the backyard of the Chu Clan estate lay a martial arts arena covering several acres.

This was the core training ground of the Chu Clan, its floor paved with specially treated granite capable of withstanding the full-force attacks of a Soul Saint without sustaining damage.

Various training equipment was arranged around the perimeter: wooden dummies, stone locks, weapon racks... everything one could need.

In the center of the arena, a tall figure had been waiting for some time.

Chu Yuntian stood with his hands behind his back, his posture as steady as a pine tree.

Today, he was not wearing his usual deep purple robes, but had changed into a grey training suit with the cuffs and pant legs tied tight, giving him a capable and sharp appearance.

Seeing Chu Yan approach, Chu Yuntian turned around, a hint of a smile appearing on his stern face.

"You're here."

"Father." Chu Yan walked up and bowed respectfully.

Chu Yuntian nodded, his gaze sweeping over his son before his brows furrowed slightly.

He felt that his son was somehow different today.

His aura was more composed than yesterday, and there was a faint, almost imperceptible pressure radiating from his body—a phenomenon that only occurred when soul power was filled to a certain degree.

"Didn't you sleep well last night?" Chu Yuntian asked.

"I meditated for a while," Chu Yan replied truthfully.

Chu Yuntian did not press further; instead, he took a black wooden staff about one and a half meters long from the weapon rack and tossed it to Chu Yan.

Chu Yan caught the staff, feeling its heavy weight; it was significantly heavier than an ordinary wooden staff.

This was a specialized training staff of the Chu Clan, crafted from century-old ironwood core and weighing three times as much as a standard staff, used specifically for building a foundation.

"Yan'er, although your martial soul, the Yan Divine Weapon, has a unique form, it is ultimately derived from the staff," Chu Yuntian said, walking to the center of the arena in a deep voice.

"The Chu Clan has been passed down for ten thousand years, and our martial souls have always been staffs. When it comes to our lineage's understanding of the staff, you would be hard-pressed to find a few families on the entire continent that can compare."

Chu Yan nodded; he did not doubt this in the slightest.

The Battle Armor family was no empty reputation; the Chu Clan had stood tall in East Sea City for thousands of years precisely because of their ancestral staff techniques passed down through generations.

"Your martial soul can evolve autonomously; that is your talent," Chu Yuntian continued. "But no matter how high your talent is, it requires a solid foundation to support it. Starting today, I will personally teach you the Chu Clan's ancestral Hunyuan Staff Technique."

"Hunyuan Staff Technique?" Chu Yan's eyes lit up.

He had heard of this staff technique.

It was the signature secret art of the Chu Clan, rumored to have been created by the Chu ancestors over a thousand years ago. It integrated staff techniques, footwork, and internal energy cultivation; when practiced to the extreme, a single strike could shatter mountains and rivers.

However, this technique had always been passed down only to the family head's lineage, and it demanded extremely high standards for the practitioner's physical fitness and comprehension.

Watching his son's expression, Chu Yuntian's lips curled upward. "What, you've heard of it?"

"I've read some records in the family archives. The Hunyuan Staff Technique is divided into nine forms, each corresponding to a core principle of staff fighting, from the most basic splitting, sweeping, lifting, and poking, to the advanced techniques of borrowing force to strike and suppressing others with momentum, progressing layer by layer," Chu Yan said.

"Not bad." Chu Yuntian nodded with satisfaction. "However, what you saw was merely the surface. The true Hunyuan Staff Technique requires oral instruction and heart-to-heart transmission. Today, I will first teach you the first form: the 'Starting Posture'."

Chu Yuntian took another ironwood staff from the rack and walked to the open space in the center of the arena.

"Watch closely."

As his voice fell, Chu Yuntian's aura shifted abruptly.

He performed a simple starting movement, holding the ironwood staff horizontally in front of him, his feet shoulder-width apart, knees slightly bent, and his center of gravity lowered.

Yet, this simple action made Chu Yan feel as if he were not standing before a man, but a mountain.

An immovable mountain.

That steady, heavy, and domineering aura radiated from Chu Yuntian, pressing down on Chu Yan until he could barely breathe.

This was the aura of a Soul Douluo!

Even though he had restrained the vast majority of his power, letting out only a tiny fraction was enough to make an eleventh-level Soul Master feel suffocated.

"The Starting Posture is the foundation of the Hunyuan Staff Technique," Chu Yuntian explained while maintaining his stance.

"It looks simple, but it actually contains the three core essentials of staff fighting: stability, precision, and ruthlessness. Stability means your lower body must be firm; without a solid foundation, all techniques are empty talk. Precision means your force must be accurate; the power of the staff does not come from the arms, but is transmitted layer by layer from the feet, legs, waist, and back, finally reaching the wrists and then the staff. Ruthlessness..." Chu Yuntian paused, then continued, "means you must be decisive when striking. Hesitation is simply giving your opponent an opening."

Chu Yan listened intently, committing every word his father said to memory.

"Come, give it a try."

Chu Yuntian withdrew his aura and stepped aside.

Chu Yan took a deep breath, walked to the center of the training grounds, gripped the ironwood staff, and mimicked his father's movements from moments ago.

Feet apart, shoulder-width wide.

Knees slightly bent, center of gravity lowered.

Staff held horizontally before him, gaze fixed straight ahead.

Chu Yuntian watched his son's movements, a flicker of surprise crossing his eyes.

Although it was his first time practicing, Chu Yan's form already looked quite professional, completely lacking the stiffness and awkwardness typical of a beginner.

This was the benefit of early maturity.

Having started standing in horse stance at three and practicing fist techniques at five, six years of foundational training had already given Chu Yan excellent coordination and control over his body.

"Lower your center of gravity a bit more." Chu Yuntian walked behind Chu Yan and pressed down on his shoulders.

Chu Yan adjusted as instructed, lowering his center of gravity by a few more inches.

"Yes, just like that." Chu Yuntian nodded in satisfaction and said, "Remember this feeling. You don't need to obsess over the perfection of the starting stance; instead, you must find that sense of 'stability.' Once your base is steady, every muscle in your body is in a state ready to unleash power at any moment. That is the essence of the starting stance."

Chu Yan silently felt every part of his body.

His feet pressed into the ground as if they had taken root.

His knees were slightly bent, compressing power like a spring.

His back was straight, like a fully drawn bow.

His arms hung naturally, gripping the ironwood staff, which rested horizontally before him, level with his chest.

In this moment, he felt that he was no longer a six-year-old child, but a volcano ready to erupt.

"Very good." Chu Yuntian stepped back a few paces, his gaze sweeping over his son, and continued, "Hold this stance for the duration of one incense stick."

One incense stick was about half an hour.

For a six-year-old child, maintaining a fixed posture for half an hour was by no means an easy task.

But Chu Yan did not complain; he did not even furrow his brow.

He simply stood there, like a statue.

Chu Yuntian watched Chu Yan with a smile. He was his son, after all—he had the mettle.