"Exactly! The human body holds limitless potential. If that potential can be guided and developed, it can unleash tremendous strength capable of splitting stone tablets and shattering rocks."
Yang Erhu's voice was deep and steady, but he sighed again. "Unfortunately, this old man now has only one strike left in him. In a few more years, I fear I won't even manage that."
"Because of your age?" Hong Yuan asked.
"Yes. Even grass and trees wither and flourish, following the laws of decline and prosperity. How much more so for people? True force comes from the physique, from qi and blood. When you grow old, your strength deteriorates and your qi and blood decline. How can you still summon true force? Even the finest methods become useless." Yang Erhu shook his hand, which still tingled painfully, and gave a bitter smile.
Then Yang Erhu glanced sidelong at Hong Yuan, growing somewhat anxious.
During their trip to the Jade Wutong Immortal Realm, they had discovered Hong Yuan's extraordinary talent. Yang Erhu had long since decided he wanted to take him as a disciple. Why else would he have gone to the trouble of bringing him back?
Although today's bout had been a spar with his junior martial brother, it had also been a performance intended to display his strength and entice Hong Yuan.
Who would have thought Hong Yuan would be just like that jujube-wood post...
The thought left Yang Erhu weary at heart. At his advanced age, he still had to fight a strapping fellow like his junior martial brother. Did anyone think that was easy for him?
"What a pity our sect's martial inheritance is so excellent. This old man has no hope of mastering it in this lifetime, though my junior martial brother still has a chance."
Yang Erhu sighed.
Yang Lie grumbled, "What about me? I want to learn! It's bad enough that my father won't teach me, but neither you nor Uncle Wu will teach me either. Why not?"
"Because your aptitude is lacking, and because you don't work hard enough..." Wu Duxiong sat with his legs spread on the stone steps nearby and gave him an indifferent glance. "If you'd put in enough effort, you would have already attained force by now."
Yang Lie had nothing to say to that.
He loved practicing martial arts, but he also loved comfort. His enthusiasm for anything lasted barely three minutes. Perhaps that was precisely why his father refused to teach him their sect's arts and had found another master for him instead.
After a moment's consideration, Hong Yuan cupped his hands and bowed. "Senior Yang, I have a presumptuous request..."
Normally, if someone mentioned a "presumptuous request" to Hong Yuan, he would most likely wave them off before they could open their mouth any further.
To prevent someone else from doing the same to him, Hong Yuan immediately continued, "I would like to become your disciple!"
Inside the ancestral shrine used for offerings at the Yang Family Martial Arts Hall.
Holding three sticks of incense, Hong Yuan placed them on the altar and solemnly bowed before the founding master's spirit tablet. He listened as Yang Erhu explained the sect's rules: no betraying one's master or dishonoring the ancestors, no killing fellow disciples, no teaching the sect's methods without permission, and so forth. They were not particularly complicated, and he carefully committed them to memory.
"Master!"
"Martial Uncle Wu!"
Hong Yuan saw no reason to stand on ceremony. Modern people were generally pragmatists. Once he had joined the sect, he bowed to both Yang Erhu and Wu Duxiong.
There were only three people inside the shrine. Even Yang Lie was not qualified to enter, since, strictly speaking, he was not a disciple of the Tiger-Subduing Sect.
Yes, Hong Yuan had now learned that their sect was called the Tiger-Subduing Sect.
Two spirit tablets were enshrined there: one for their founding master, Daoist Dragon Tiger, and one for their grandmaster, True Person Li.
"Good! Very good!"
Yang Erhu patted Hong Yuan's shoulder, unable to conceal the delight on his face.
"Congratulations on gaining such an excellent disciple, senior brother. The Tiger-Subduing Sect finally has someone to carry on its legacy." Expectation also shone in Wu Duxiong's eyes.
Yang Erhu smiled so broadly that his eyes vanished. "I've already had the servants prepare a feast. We'll celebrate with a hearty lunch, and this afternoon I'll teach you our sect's martial arts."
A martial arts hall this large naturally had several servants. Otherwise, never mind preparing meals for a dozen or twenty apprentices and nominal disciples, cleaning alone would have kept them so busy their feet barely touched the ground.
The feast consisted of just one table for four. As Yang Erhu put it, this was their Tiger-Subduing Sect's own affair. Why invite outsiders to disturb them?
The spread was lavish: roast squab, river shrimp, bamboo shoots, medicinal soup, and no shortage of chicken, duck, fish, and lamb. There was even beef, which the authorities prohibited people from eating without permission.
Yang Erhu, Wu Duxiong, and Yang Lie were all martial artists. Hong Yuan had yet to formally begin training, but his sturdy physique naturally gave him a hearty appetite as well. All four tucked in with abandon, eating until their mouths glistened with grease, each thoroughly satisfied.
Since there would be martial instruction that afternoon, however, they each had only one small cup of wine.
After lunch, they allowed more than two hours for digestion and rest. Once the sun grew a little warm, the four of them returned to the training ground in the rear courtyard.
Wu Duxiong glared at Yang Lie and snorted. "What are you doing here?"
"I count as half a disciple of the Tiger-Subduing Sect, don't I? What, I'm not even allowed to watch?" Yang Lie protested.
"Of course you are. Come, come!" Wu Duxiong beckoned as he walked over.
Sensing his ill intentions, Yang Lie was just about to flee when Wu Duxiong reached out with his large hand and seized his shoulder. Half dragging and half hauling him outside, he said, "You want to practice martial arts, do you? Come to the front courtyard with me. I'll put you through your paces myself."
"No, Uncle Wu..."
Ignoring the commotion caused by Wu Duxiong and Yang Lie, Yang Erhu walked to the center of the training ground and began explaining with easy confidence. "Every martial artist under heaven seeks to 'attain force.' To do that, you must strengthen the body and nourish the blood. You already know that much, yes?"
Hong Yuan nodded.
Yang Erhu said, "Our Tiger-Subduing Sect has two methods for strengthening the body: moving and still. The still method is stance training—the Tiger-Subduing Stance! Watch closely!"
As he spoke, Yang Erhu spread his feet, drew in his chest, and extended his back, holding his head as though supporting an object atop it. His blazing gaze fixed straight ahead, his arms hung naturally at his sides, and his fingers spread slightly like claws.
After several breaths, his center of gravity slowly sank. His spine curved like a bow, poised to release its power. He resembled a fierce tiger crouched upon a mountain crag, each inhalation and exhalation following a long, natural rhythm.
Seeing this, Hong Yuan immediately faced him and assumed the Tiger-Subduing Stance as well.
Yang Erhu neither judged nor corrected him, but continued, "The moving method is the Rock-Solid Skill. It's grueling training meant to temper the sinews, bones, and strength. The method isn't complicated, but mastering it is the hardest part for many people. Without medicine to loosen the sinews and open the channels, even one round of the initial stretching will leave you in unbearable misery. Later, you must build strength under heavy loads, climb heights, and leap distances. Without enough meat and medicinal meals to nourish you, you can forget about it entirely."
Yang Erhu sighed inwardly.
He had run the martial arts hall for over a decade and taught batch after batch of apprentices. For ninety-nine percent of them, he required only stance training and a few basic punches and kicks.
With a method like the Rock-Solid Skill, which tempered the sinews and bones, every step had to be paved with silver. How could ordinary people afford it?
While Yang Erhu lamented this, Hong Yuan's heart gave a jolt. His dreams of dashing, fragrant, soft and sweet martial heroines shattered.
With training like this, how could there be any heroines like those in martial arts novels? Wouldn't every woman who practiced end up bulging with muscle?
Of course, his knowledge was limited. He could not rule out the existence of more advanced methods.
"Next comes the guiding art. This also has two methods: external and internal. The external method uses movements of the limbs to guide the entire body, exercising every part of it..."
As he spoke, Yang Erhu came out of his stance and moved his body through all manner of strange poses. Hong Yuan thought they looked somewhat like yoga.
"Use the guiding art to exercise the feet, knees, hips, waist, back, shoulders, elbows, wrists, and hands... One step sets every part of the body in motion."
"That is the external method of the guiding art."
Without stopping, Yang Erhu demonstrated eighteen movements in one go before exhaling and standing still again.
"As for the internal method, you could call it the first hurdle before attaining force, and also the hardest. It is no easier than gaining control over qi and blood, and takes even more time."
Yang Erhu looked at Hong Yuan as he spoke, his expression solemn.
Hong Yuan also grew serious and listened carefully.
"Everyone has qi and blood throughout every part of their body, but these are intangible. You know they exist, yet you cannot see or touch them. How, then, can you sense them?"
Yang Erhu stared at Hong Yuan and slowly uttered one word: "Imagination!"
"In other words, meditation. For example..." Yang Erhu raised his arm, then suddenly tensed it, making the veins bulge. "When you look at your hand—and of course, it can be any part of your body—you must hold a firm conviction and resolve in your heart. Believe that qi and blood flow within it, and that this qi and blood can be touched..."
"Your will is your hand. Use that invisible 'hand' to push the qi and blood. If it has no direction, give it one. If it has no shape, imagine a shape for it!"
Isn't that just hypnotizing yourself?
Hong Yuan pondered inwardly.
"This step is exceedingly difficult. Many martial artists have the method in hand yet fail to grasp it even after decades of practice. Only through countless meditations and years upon years of tempering the mind can they gain even a sliver of a chance at success."
"But once you 'see' or 'touch' your qi and blood, you can attempt to command them with a breathing method, twist them into a single strand, and turn the intangible tangible, entering the stage of true force."
At this point, Yang Erhu suddenly smiled. "Does it sound difficult? Are you thinking of beating a retreat? And even after enduring such grueling cultivation and developing true force, you might not be all that powerful. With your extraordinary talent, great strength, and quick reactions, even I might not beat you in a fight!"
Hong Yuan smiled. "Rest assured, Master. A few difficulties won't scare me off!"
Right, Deep Blue? Add points!
With a thought, Hong Yuan saw the rows of tiny, gnat-like characters floating before his eyes and felt thoroughly reassured.
Seeing his firm resolve, Yang Erhu was quite pleased. "Good. Memorize the stance and guiding art today. Tomorrow, I'll teach you the breathing method and our Tiger-Subduing Sect's combat art, the Tiger-Subduing Fist!"
"Master, what did you mean earlier by the 'transformations of force' after attaining force?" Hong Yuan changed the subject.
With his hands behind his back, Yang Erhu paced over to the jujube-wood post he had cracked with a palm strike at midday. "That concerns the cultivation of true force. There are roughly three levels."
"The first level is the initial attainment of true force. At this level, although you have gained control over your qi and blood, true force is violent and difficult to control. Throwing a punch is like opening floodgates: once the torrent pours out, there is no stopping it. That is why you often have only one strike in you. After that strike, all your qi and blood are discharged. In mild cases, an hour's rest is enough to recover. In severe cases, you collapse or faint, and may even injure your own internal organs."
Hong Yuan immediately recalled how Yang Erhu had seemed somewhat drained after delivering his palm strike, recovering only after two or three breaths.
"After cultivating at the first level for a long time, you gradually learn to control the floodgates rather than empty everything in a single strike. Then you have enough strength for two strikes, three, or even a dozen and more! Though each is weaker than a strike that releases everything, true force is violent enough that killing someone does not require your full strength."
"The second level is receive-and-release-at-will. As the name suggests, at this level you command your force as easily as your arm commands your fingers. This old man barely qualified for that level once, but I can no longer maintain it!"
Yang Erhu's tone was wistful.
"The third level is subtlety: control over force so fine that it reaches the smallest detail. Only at this level can you truly be called a great expert, capable of traveling the world alone. The gangs and sects of the martial world must show you respect, while great clans, princes, influential officials, and noble houses will welcome you as an honored guest."
"Such people are already grandmasters, capable of founding their own sects."
"The reason they command such prestige is that they have brought the transformations of force to dazzling heights. A martial artist who has attained force might be able to fight dozens or even a hundred ordinary people... But against heavily armored soldiers, they can barely contend with eight or ten. Double that number, and they must flee for their lives. Otherwise, even if they aren't surrounded and killed, exhaustion alone will kill them."
"But a grandmaster at the level of subtlety can kill heavily armored soldiers as easily as ordinary people. In their hands, transformations of force produce all manner of incredible forces: Spiral Force, Flying-Floss Force, Silk-Winding Force, Bone-Penetrating Force, Air-Piercing Force..."
Yang Erhu touched the jujube-wood post again. "Take this wooden post, for example. All I can do is crack its surface with a palm strike. But a grandmaster who has mastered Air-Piercing Force could strike it without damaging the surface, while reducing its interior to cotton fluff. Tell me, what use would armor be against someone like that?"
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