Wang Xiaoliang hadn't drunk the plain rice porridge.
So he woke up very early.
His mood was steady, neither good nor bad.
He threw back the covers and got out of bed.
The moment his feet touched the floor, his calves began to tremble.
Holding the stair rail, he inched down one step at a time.
Before he reached the ground floor, he spotted Fan Qishan from the second-floor landing.
Alone.
Standing in the very center of the living room.
Wang Xiaoliang took out his phone and lit up the screen.
Five fifty-six.
"Morning."
Fan Qishan beckoned to him.
"Come on. Stance training."
His voice was flat.
Wang Xiaoliang stayed rooted to the stairs.
"What's stance training?"
Fan Qishan ignored him.
He spread his feet shoulder-width apart, bent his knees slightly, and slowly raised both hands, holding them in a loose circle before his chest.
A few phrases popped out of his mouth.
"Lift the crown lightly, sink the shoulders and drop the elbows, hollow the chest and stretch the back."
Wang Xiaoliang didn't understand a single one.
Fan Qishan closed his mouth and said nothing more.
The message was clear-copy him.
Wang Xiaoliang walked behind him, spread his legs, bent his knees, and raised his hands.
He had only just settled into the stance.
When a sentence drifted over from in front.
"If you feel restless and irritable, keep going. If your body shakes, stop."
The living room fell quiet.
Wang Xiaoliang closed his eyes.
Irritation.
Irritation surged from every direction within his body, within his blood.
His arms ached. His legs ached even more.
How had this body ended up in such a wretched state? Just holding a pose had every joint protesting.
His mind was a complete muddle.
This standing around doing nothing-no, this stance training-was hard.