The day I became his disciple.
I had probably made my master lose face completely, giving him the opportunity to be extremely strict with me from day one.
He taught me no martial arts that first day, only stance training and how to do push-ups with proper form.
He said stance training was the foundation of all martial arts. Without a stable lower body, no matter how many forms I learned, they would be nothing but flashy, useless moves.
Push-ups trained upper-body strength and explosive power, allowing those martial arts forms to deliver the destructive force they were meant to have.
So I began my stance training. For someone like me, who had avoided exercise for years, my legs started shaking after just two or three minutes.
The moment my form slipped, my master would suddenly appear and lash me with a whip.
He really did whip me, the kind of whipping that left a bloody welt with every stroke.
The pain of the whip even drowned out the aching in my thighs.
To avoid being whipped, I could only force myself to maintain the proper posture. Even when I shook, I dared not let my form change in the slightest.
Finally, seeing that I truly could not hold the stance any longer, he let my legs rest, but my upper body got no such break.
My master immediately urged me to start doing push-ups.
Then I started getting whipped again, until I truly could not do another one, and then it was back to stance training.
I had no idea how I got through it. I felt it was debatable whether I would even make it out of here alive after this year.
Surely there had to be a limit to strictness. How many days could I last just