Li Xuan let out a breath of relief and followed Zhao Meng inside.
The courtyard was enormous, many times larger than his entire shack up in the mountains.
Several young men in neat, close-fitting training clothes were practicing their punches in the open space, their movements whipping through the air. As the two passed, they all looked over curiously.
They crossed the front courtyard and entered the main hall.
An old man sat inside. He was tall and powerfully built, with a rugged air about him even while seated. His hair was graying, but his eyes were bright. He was reading the letter of introduction.
Seeing them enter, the old man lowered the letter and turned his gaze to Li Xuan.
"The handwriting is right, at least... You're Li Xuan? The one Brother Shen recommended?" The old man's voice rang out like a bell.
"Yes. I'm Li Xuan. My respects, Master." Li Xuan hurriedly bowed.
The old man rose and walked over to Li Xuan. With a hand as broad as a palm-leaf fan, he squeezed Li Xuan's shoulders, then pressed a few spots on his arms and leg bones. His brows drew together slightly before relaxing again.
"Your root bone... is rather ordinary. But for Brother Shen's sake, you can stay. Zhao Meng."
"Yes, Master."
"He's in your hands. Teach him the outer courtyard's rules and that foundational fist routine. He has six months. How far he gets depends on him."
"Yes, Master."
The master waved them off and sat back down. He picked up the teacup beside him and paid them no further attention.
Zhao Meng led Li Xuan out of the main hall and back to the spacious front courtyard.
"Junior brother, you'll train here from now on. Our school has an inner courtyard and an outer courtyard. All newcomers start in the outer courtyard, toughening their muscles and bones and learning the introductory form of Thunderclap Fist."
"Once you've trained well enough, with strong muscles and bones and abundant blood and qi, you'll have a chance to pass Master's assessment and enter the inner courtyard to learn real martial arts. If six months go by and you still haven't made much progress..."
Zhao Meng paused.
"You either pay again and keep grinding away, or you go home."
Li Xuan nodded. He understood.
Simply put, those six months were a hurdle. If he couldn't clear it, he either lacked the money or lacked the talent. Spending more time on it would get him nowhere.
Zhao Meng led him to an open patch along the edge of the courtyard. Four or five people were already practicing there, all fairly young and dressed much more finely than Li Xuan.
Seeing Zhao Meng bring over an unfamiliar face, they stopped and looked him over curiously.
"Come over here for a moment," Zhao Meng called.
"This is your new junior brother, Li Xuan. Li Xuan, these are your fellow disciples in the outer courtyard."
They gathered around. A chubby boy spoke first. "Junior Brother Li? Haven't seen you before. You're not from town, are you? What does your family do?"
Li Xuan answered honestly, "I'm a hunter from the mountains."
"A hunter?"
They exchanged glances. The curiosity on their faces immediately faded, and something else crept into their eyes.
The chubby boy even curled his lip. Without another word, he turned back to continue going through his punches and kicks.
The others dispersed as well, their interest gone.
As though he hadn't noticed, Zhao Meng said to Li Xuan:
"Never mind them. Focus on your own training. Come on, I'll explain it first."
"When we practice martial arts, the first priority is to forge the body. Outer courtyard disciples must practice the Thunderclap Fist Stance for a full four hours every day, coordinating it with their breathing to strengthen their muscles, bones, blood, and qi."
"Once your blood and qi are abundant, your muscles and bones are strong, and strength flows through your whole body, your foundation is considered complete. Only then can you talk about the next step, body tempering. Once you've made progress in body tempering, you'll have a chance to comprehend 'internal force.' That's the realm our senior brothers in the inner courtyard are pursuing. It's still far off for you. Focus on getting the form right first."
"Watch carefully. I'll go through it slowly once."
As he spoke, Zhao Meng took his stance. The movements weren't complicated.
But each was precise and measured: punching, stepping, twisting at the waist, all matched to a clear breathing rhythm. His breaths sounded with each movement, and he carried himself with a steady composure.
Li Xuan watched closely, carefully memorizing the sequence of movements and how the breathing matched them.
After completing the routine once, Zhao Meng broke it down and taught him step by step.
Li Xuan followed along. Years of climbing mountains and hunting had given him decent coordination, but certain ways of exerting force and transitioning between movements still felt awkward.
"Here, you need to turn your waist. Strength rises from the ground... That's right. Find the feeling gradually. Breathe. Don't hold it in. Follow your movements. Exhale when you punch, inhale when you draw your fist back..."
After practicing for nearly an hour, Li Xuan was drenched in sweat, and his arms and legs had begun to ache.
It was past noon now. The wealthy young men in the front courtyard had long since finished practicing and retreated to the shade beneath the covered walkway to rest, drink water, and laugh together.
Li Xuan was still stumbling through the movements. Sweat dripped from his chin onto the blue-brick paving, spreading into tiny dark circles.
He tried hard to get each movement right, but something always felt stiff.
Either his waist wouldn't turn properly or his feet tangled beneath him. His breathing was an even greater mess, unable to keep pace.
Zhao Meng watched from the side with his arms folded for a while and formed a rough assessment.
He had taught plenty of newcomers and knew what to look for.
There was no faulting the boy's earnestness, but his physical foundation, coordination, and natural feel for the movements really did fall a little short.
This was probably what a low-grade root bone looked like. Even getting started took him several beats longer than an ordinary person.
When Li Xuan awkwardly drew back his fist yet again, the sweat covering his face did nothing to hide his frustration. Zhao Meng walked over.
"All right, take a break." He pointed to a stone bench nearby. "You can't eat hot tofu in a hurry."
Li Xuan sat down, panting, and wiped his face haphazardly with his sleeve. He hesitated, then finally asked:
"Senior brother... does how quickly you learn martial arts really have that much to do with... 'root bone'?"
Zhao Meng sat down beside him, picked up his waterskin, and took a gulp before smacking his lips.
"Looks like you've noticed it too. That's right. You can't see or touch root bone, but it has a very real effect on how fast someone progresses in martial arts and how far they can go."
Seeing how attentively Li Xuan listened, he elaborated:
"It's usually divided into three grades: high, middle, and low. With high-grade root bone, Heaven practically chases you down to spoon-feed you. Take our introductory Thunderclap Fist form. Someone with good comprehension can get it looking right in just a few hours, with their blood and qi circulating smoothly. With middle-grade root bone, steady practice will get you through the basics in ten days or a fortnight. As for low-grade root bone..."
Zhao Meng paused and glanced at Li Xuan. "Like most of the outer courtyard disciples, myself included back then, your muscles and bones are stiff, and your blood and qi are sluggish. Just getting familiar with this introductory form, keeping the movements from going awry, and matching them to the basic breathing takes at least half a month of hard grinding. And the further you go, the wider the gap gets."
"A few hours... versus more than half a month?"
Li Xuan was inwardly astonished. He had known there was a difference, but he hadn't imagined it could be so vast!
"So..."
Zhao Meng patted his shoulder, his tone carrying a hint of consolation. "Just do your best in everything. Don't be too hard on yourself. Sometimes, it isn't a matter of not trying hard enough."
Li Xuan nodded without saying anything.
Yet the little flame kindled in his heart by that strange sound in the night quietly burned a little brighter.
Poor root bone? A low ceiling? In the past, he might have accepted his lot.
But now... as long as he could make some progress and get that panel to "recognize" that he had learned the basics of Thunderclap Fist, who cared about root bone? He just had to get on with it!
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