After saying goodbye to everyone, Jiang Lan did not rush to find Shen Qingqiu. Instead, he headed back into the academy.
Following the signs, he walked for a few minutes before finding the Library Tower.
The Library Tower stood three stories tall, with a rather antique appearance.
Two guards stood at the entrance. When they saw Jiang Lan, one said:
"Student, please show your student ID."
Jiang Lan took out his student ID and handed it to the guard.
After a quick inspection, the guard politely returned it and opened the Library Tower's doors.
Jiang Lan stepped inside.
The first-floor hall was very quiet, with the faint scent of books hanging in the air.
Rows of tall bookshelves surrounded him, densely packed with manuals for all kinds of martial techniques.
The techniques were sorted into categories, each labeled on the shelves.
Sabers, spears, swords, halberds, axes, battle-axes, hooks, forks; flatbreads, steamed buns, stuffed buns, fried dough twists-they had everything.
For a moment, Jiang Lan was overwhelmed by the selection.
But he soon settled on his target and headed straight for the fist technique section.
There were three rows of shelves for fist techniques, holding at least a hundred manuals covering everything from Body Tempering to Meridian Opening.
Jiang Lan pulled one out at random and leafed through it.
"Blazing Flame Fist," a Body Tempering fist technique focused on fierce, explosive power.
The names of its moves were a little overdramatic, though.
"Heaven-scorching flames, nine suns searing the sky."
After a quick look, Jiang Lan shook his head and put it back.
All flash.
That was not what he wanted. The more fundamental, the better.
Jiang Lan continued browsing for quite a while, but still found nothing suitable.
Just as he was starting to feel disappointed, he noticed the cover of a manual in front of him.
"Iron Mountain Fist."
He opened it and read a few pages.
It was a fist technique suitable for both Body Tempering and Meridian Opening, centered on overcoming finesse with strength.
Even the title page felt right.
Jiang Lan turned to the first page, where a line of small text read:
"Power rises from the ground, travels from the legs to the waist, from the waist to the shoulders, and flows through the arms to the fists."
He kept reading, finding it more interesting with every page.
This fist technique had no flashy moves at all...
Even the very concept of individual moves was downplayed.
The entire book revolved around one thing: generating power.
Where power came from, how it traveled-every detail was explained thoroughly.
According to Iron Mountain Fist, true power generation meant gathering the strength of the entire body into a single point, concentrating it in the fist.
With the same amount of strength, the correct method of generating power could double or even triple the force of an attack.
His punches already had over two thousand kilograms of force. If he doubled or tripled that...
Wouldn't that put him straight into the five- or six-thousand range?
Jiang Lan took a deep breath and decisively tucked "Iron Mountain Fist" into his shirt.
This was the one.
Leaving the shelves, Jiang Lan walked around the first floor and discovered several small practice rooms at the back of the Library Tower, provided specifically for students to practice techniques on the spot after borrowing manuals.
He pushed open the door to one of them.
The room was small, about twenty square meters. Its floor was laid with the same silver-gray material as the classroom, and a thick layer of padding covered the walls.
Jiang Lan set Iron Mountain Fist on a nearby stand, opened it to the first page, and began practicing according to the illustrations.
Step one: stance training.
Feet shoulder-width apart, knees slightly bent, center of gravity lowered, waist and back straight.
It looked simple, but once Jiang Lan actually tried it, he realized it was not so easy.
Something always felt off. His center of gravity was either too far forward or too far back, and no adjustment felt comfortable.
Only after struggling for quite a while did he find a relatively stable stance.
Step two: basic power generation.
Push off the ground with the feet, channel the force into the waist and hips, rotate the waist and hips to drive the shoulders, let the shoulders drive the arms, and finally gather everything at the striking surface of the fist.
Following the instructions, Jiang Lan tried throwing a punch.
Whoosh.
His fist compressed the air, producing a rush of wind.
But Jiang Lan was not particularly satisfied.
He could feel several links in the chain breaking completely as the force traveled through his body.
Jiang Lan frowned, studied the illustrations again, adjusted his stance, and threw another punch.
Still wrong.
Again.
Another punch.
This time was a little better. He could feel his waist and hips fall into rhythm for an instant, only for the connection to break again immediately afterward.
Neither anxious nor impatient, Jiang Lan kept practicing.
One punch, two punches, three punches...
Ten punches, twenty punches, thirty punches...
Dull rushes of wind echoed through the practice room.
After an unknown number of punches, Jiang Lan's eyes suddenly lit up.
He adjusted his stance and pushed against the floor, sending the force along his calves to his knees, then into his thighs, waist, and hips.
Then all that power surged like a tide toward his shoulders, driving his arms before finally reaching his fist.
The entire sequence flowed without a break.
Bang!
The air cracked explosively, and the wind from his punch roared outward.
Even Jiang Lan startled at that.
That powerful?
The sounds from his earlier punches had come from compressing the air.
But this one felt as though he had punched the air apart.
Holy shit.
He was not confident he could achieve that with every punch, but at least he had found the right feeling.
Jiang Lan took a deep breath and checked the time.
Before he knew it, two hours had passed.
He was nowhere near fully mastering Iron Mountain Fist, but at least he had grasped the basics.
Next, he needed to practice it over and over until this method of generating power became instinctive.
That would do for now.
He gathered up the manual, left the practice room, and went to the entrance, holding out his student ID.
"I'd like to borrow this copy of Iron Mountain Fist."
The teacher seated behind the counter by the entrance took his student ID, tapped away at the computer for a while, then handed it back to Jiang Lan and said:
"If you want to borrow another manual next time, remember to return this one first."
"Thank you, teacher. Got it."
Taking his student ID, Jiang Lan turned and left the Library Tower.
After thinking it over, he decided not to look for Shen Qingqiu after all.
Shen Qingqiu was usually pretty busy, too. It would not be right to bother him over every little thing.
He could just take a taxi home himself.
But the moment that thought crossed Jiang Lan's mind, his phone rang.
He looked down. It was Shen Qingqiu.
Answering the call, Jiang Lan said, "Auntie?"
"Class still not over?"
"It's over. I went to the Library Tower to find a technique and practiced until now. I only just finished."
"Perfect. I'm near your school. Wait for me at the gate. Ten minutes."
Jiang Lan grinned.
Well.
Now he would have to trouble him whether he wanted to or not.
He could only say that this body's original owner really had been lucky.
They were not even related. It was already remarkable that Shen Qingqiu took such good care of him.
As for that claim about just happening to be nearby, he knew better than to take it seriously.
Usually, Auntie went no farther than the market. When would he have time to come all the way out here?
He had probably been waiting nearby for some time.
Jiang Lan went to the school gate, and before long, Shen Qingqiu's SUV pulled up in front of him.
Jiang Lan opened the door and climbed in. Shen Qingqiu glanced at him and asked with a smile:
"Working pretty hard, huh? What technique did you pick?"
"This one." Jiang Lan took out the manual. "Iron Mountain Fist. It mainly focuses on how to generate power. The teacher said my current method was too clumsy and told me to learn it."
"Your teacher's a pretty good judge of people."
Jiang Lan: "..."