"Martial arts in this world generally fall into two categories: external arts and internal arts!"
Murong Bo explained as he walked with Wang Gang. He had no desire to teach him. At Wang Gang's age, his bones and sinews had already taken shape, and it would be hard for him to achieve much.
But Madam Wang had grown excited the moment she heard "accomplished in both letters and arms" and insisted that he teach him. Murong Bo could only oblige helplessly.
"External arts rely on tempering the body, circulating Qi and blood, and building strength. They're mostly used by men who fight on the battlefield!
Internal arts, on the other hand, focus on cultivating a breath of Qi within, circulating it through the heavenly circuit to accumulate internal power! These are what most martial artists practice."
Wang Gang looked at his own build. He felt it would be rather inelegant to become as hulking and thickset as a military officer, so he said, "I'll learn internal arts!"
Murong Bo nodded and continued, "Internal arts are further divided into substance and application. Substance is internal power itself, and superior methods allow you to build it quickly. Application refers to the methods of using internal power. Brilliant methods allow you to wield it with endless versatility and boundless might."
"Shaolin's Muscle-Tendon Changing Classic and the Dali Duan Clan's Six Meridian Divine Sword are supreme achievements in these two fields!"
"Great! Then I'll learn those two!" Wang Gang cried excitedly, his eyes full of anticipation.
The corner of Murong Bo's mouth twitched. "Dream your grand dreams of spring and autumn!" he snapped. "Those are the supreme arts of their respective sects! Do you think they're weeds by the roadside, there for the picking?"
"Oh. Didn't you say your Huanshi Water Pavilion contained all the martial arts under heaven?"
"I don't have those two manuals, but I do have a few arts among Shaolin's Seventy-Two Supreme Skills. Why don't you try those?"
"No!" Wang Gang refused decisively. "Shaolin arts are really sinister. You have to practice them alongside Buddhist scriptures. If practicing them leaves me pure of heart and free of desire, won't my sister fight you to the death?"
"Who told you they have to be practiced alongside Buddhist scriptures? What nonsense!"
"It's true! Shaolin has a monk named Xuancheng who's incredibly talented. He forced his way through those arts and crippled himself! He's still paralyzed!"
"You've never even been to Shaolin. Where did you hear all this rubbish?"
"The Spring Breeze Pavilion! They hired a storyteller who often talks about these martial-world secrets!"
"Go there less often from now on. If your sister finds out, you'd better watch your hide!"
"It's fine! I put it on your tab every time!"
"Shh! Don't talk nonsense!" Murong Bo hurriedly clapped a hand over Wang Gang's mouth. Only after looking around did he relax. "Your sister has eyes and ears all over this compound!"
"They even dare tell on you?"
"Ah..."
"You really are pathetic!" Wang Gang's voice carried disdain.
"And you're not? Your wife slit your throat! You even came running to my house to hide!"
Come on, then! Let's hurt each other!
Both looking glum, they arrived at the water pavilion. Murong Bo opened the door and said, "Go choose an art yourself!"
"What do I know about any of this? Choose one for me!"
"Ah, any requirements?"
"It has to look cool!" Wang Gang thought for a moment, then said earnestly, "Really cool!"
Speechless, Murong Bo pressed a hand to his forehead and entered the water pavilion. A while later, he tossed out a booklet.
"The One-Character Lightning Sword. Blindingly fast, lethal in a single strike. You could say it takes the sword's 'thrust' to its pinnacle! Its internal cultivation method is a little lacking, though. Want to learn it?"
"Yes, yes, yes! Swordsmanship is great. Our Great Song allows people to carry swords. Not like those who learn the saber or spear-the authorities will haul them away as soon as they step outside with their weapons!"
Wang Gang was delighted. Good swordsmanship was all he needed. As for internal cultivation, once he mastered the Lesser Formless Skill, what method couldn't he imitate?
"As long as you're happy!" Murong Bo casually tossed him an iron sword as well. "Practice a thousand thrusts every day. I'll teach you how to circulate your internal power in a month. Ask Fu'er if there's anything you don't understand!" With that, he dusted off his backside and left.
The moment Wang Gang caught the iron sword, his hand sank under its weight. A thousand thrusts a day with this thing-wouldn't that work him to death?
But only by enduring the bitterest hardships could one rise above others!
Thinking of the days ahead, when he would punch scholars and berate military officers, could he manage without solid martial arts?
And then there was the Master. Without formidable skills, who would have listened to his reasoning? Shaozheng Mao had suffered back then precisely because his martial arts fell short of the Master's!
Instantly brimming with motivation, Wang Gang went straight to the training ground to find Murong Fu.
When Murong Fu, who was practicing, spotted his uncle, he hurried over, pulled a meridian chart from inside his robe, and said excitedly, "Uncle, I found two mistakes and marked them!"
Wang Gang took it and looked, his face as still as deep water, making Murong Fu terribly nervous.
After thinking back, he realized he had indeed mislabeled two acupoints. Wang Gang put away the chart and praised Murong Fu. "Very good! Your foundations are solid! I deliberately left those two tiny mistakes, and you found them both!"
Murong Fu was delighted. His father never praised him and was always pointing out his shortcomings!
"However!"
As Wang Gang paused, Murong Fu abruptly straightened and looked at him apprehensively.
Wang Gang patted his shoulder and said, "The arts we practice are internal arts, divided into substance and application. You found the mistakes in the meridian chart just now. That's very good. It shows your foundations in internal power are firm. But as for application?"
"Uncle, I'm very good at that too!" Murong Fu was thrilled. His uncle had said exactly the same thing as his father. It seemed his uncle was an expert too. No wonder that monk had said he hid his depths!
"All talk and no practice is a sham!" Wang Gang smiled rather provocatively and pointed at the sword at Murong Fu's waist. "Show me with that sword. I won't make it difficult. Just demonstrate a thrust!"
"All right!" Murong Fu turned and ran back to the training ground, stopping before a wooden target. With a ringing shing, his longsword left its sheath, and then its tip struck the center of the target.
"Ah... well..." It was too fast. Wang Gang hadn't seen it clearly at all.
"Haha, very good! But the martial path has always gone from fast to slow. Do it again slowly so I can see!"
Murong Fu nodded firmly, then slowly thrust his sword. This time, Wang Gang saw it clearly.
He nodded in satisfaction and said, "Now I'll do it too. Let's see how many faults you can spot!"
Then he tugged at his sword. It didn't come out. Only after two more pulls did the iron sword leave its sheath. With a loud shout, he thrust straight at the wooden target-and missed.
Murong Fu stared blankly at Wang Gang, as though trying to tell how much of this was a joke.
"Go on, tell me!" Wang Gang felt rather embarrassed too. Swordplay looked so simple when others did it. How had it become so badly distorted in his hands?
Murong Fu opened his mouth, feeling there were so many things to criticize that he didn't know where to begin. He simply took Wang Gang's hand and performed the move again, explaining the mistakes as he went.
Wang Gang benefited greatly. He thrust again, and Murong Fu pointed out his mistakes once more.
The thrust was only a basic sword technique, after all, and not particularly difficult. After five or six attempts, Wang Gang could execute it correctly! He then patted Murong Fu in satisfaction. "As the saying goes, reviewing the old brings new understanding. I've helped you review today. I hope you'll gain something new from it!"
Watching Wang Gang's retreating figure, Murong Fu pumped his fist hard.
His uncle had truly gone to painstaking lengths. To help him solidify his foundations, he had even pretended not to know how to use a sword!
I must become an expert like him!