Chapter 5: Taking a Master

This was a two-courtyard residence.

In the open space of the outer courtyard, wooden stakes, stone locks, swords, spears, and other weapons were scattered about.

The sound of shouts and cries rose and fell, washing over the area.

Seven or eight men were training on the blue-brick ground, their bronze-colored bodies glistening with sweat under the scorching sun. The dull thuds of stone locks hitting the ground made one’s soles tingle.

In a corner, sitting on a grand armchair, was a middle-aged man.

He wore a faded brown short jacket, and his exposed arms were knotted with muscle, covered in old scars of varying depths, resembling the gnarled roots of an ancient tree.

Across his knees lay a dark, heavy iron ruler. This man was Zhou Liang.

The lean man walked up to him and whispered, "Master, someone is here to apprentice."

Zhou Liang’s gaze swept toward Chen Qing. "Where are you from? How old are you?"

Chen Qing quickly cupped his hands. "Junior Chen Qing, from Yazi Bay, seventeen years old. I have long admired Master Zhou’s reputation and have come specifically to apprentice and learn the craft."

Zhou Liang picked up the iron ruler from his knees. "A fisherman by trade?"

"Yes," Chen Qing replied respectfully.

Zhou Liang reached out and squeezed his shoulder blade. His palm was as rough as iron sand, and when he suddenly applied force, Chen Qing winced in pain, yet he didn't utter a single sound.

"Your bones haven't fully set, and your tendons have some resilience. You can be trained."

Zhou Liang weighed the iron ruler in his hand. "Do you know what this is?"

Chen Qing endured the pain. "An iron ruler."

"Correct, an iron ruler."

Zhou Liang said slowly, "It measures objects, and it measures people. It measures your tendons and bones, it measures your courage, and it measures how many feet of iron your flesh and skin can withstand."

Chen Qing immediately said, "This disciple can endure hardship!"

"You're sharp, at least."

Zhou Liang nodded slightly, his tone suddenly shifting. "Let’s get the ugly talk out of the way first: teaching requires tuition. If you cannot pay on time, don't blame the ruler for being merciless; I will cast you out! Have you thought it through?"

He was not teaching out of charity; he had to make a living.

"I have!" Chen Qing replied in a deep voice, then took out the silver he had prepared and offered it up.

"This silver is enough for three months of tuition."

Zhou Liang weighed it in his palm and tucked it away. "From today on, you stay in the courtyard. As for how much skill you can develop, that depends on your own fortune."

Chen Qing cupped his hands. "This disciple will surely give his all, practicing diligently, and will not let Master down!"

The first step on the path of martial arts had finally been taken.

Zhou Liang waved his hand. "Develop some real skill, and making a living won't be hard."

For poor youths, learning martial arts was mostly just about finding a way to survive. Truly standing out from the crowd? That was as difficult as ascending to heaven.

Zhou Liang picked up his teacup and took a sip. "Sun Shun, take Chen Qing around and explain the rules of the courtyard."

"Yes!"

A burly man with an honest face walked over in response.

"My name is Sun Shun. From now on, I’m your Third Senior Brother."

Sun Shun grinned. "Come on, let me show you around."

Sun Shun led Chen Qing around the not-so-large courtyard.

The front yard was the training ground, and the back yard was the Master’s residence—entry was forbidden without permission.

The storeroom, dining hall, and bathhouse were all there; it was small but complete.

"We don't have many rules here, but there are a few ironclad ones," Sun Shun said seriously.

"First: before you have completed your apprenticeship, you are not allowed to use the school's name outside, and you are strictly forbidden from causing trouble."

"Second: whether you are challenging a school, holding a dock, or sparring with others, you must first announce your name and show your 'tools' (meaning to declare your identity and style)."

"Third: only when seeking revenge or storming a mountain gate are you allowed to forgo showing your tools or announcing your name."

"Fourth: respect your master and the path, and it is strictly forbidden to harm your fellow disciples!"

Chen Qing stood by, listening, and memorized these rules one by one.

"Come, follow me to get your training uniform."

Finally, Sun Shun took him to the utility room and pulled out a set of faded, coarse cloth clothes. The dense stitching at the cuffs showed they had been mended many times.

Before long, Zhou Liang, having finished his lunch, strolled over. "For a beginner, the foundation is the most important thing. For these next few days, I will guide you personally."

Chen Qing felt a surge of warmth and nodded heavily. "Thank you, Master!"

He was filled with curiosity and anticipation regarding the martial arts of this world.

Was it truly as magical as the stories from his past life?

"Before learning martial arts, you must first understand what true martial arts are."

Zhou Liang led him to a row of wooden stakes and said in a low voice, "Martial arts, in the jargon, is called the 'Gua Zi Men.' Street performers often practice what is called 'Xing Gua Zi'—fake stuff. This kind of martial art demands flashiness, excitement, and showing off."

"Although these movements look impressive, they violate all the taboos of true martial arts. They are only meant to fool ignorant country folk. But authentic 'Jian Gua Zi' cannot attract spectators at all."

"Because true martial arts are killing techniques."

Zhou Liang’s tone was calm, without a ripple.

But Chen Qing’s heart was stirred.

Killing techniques!

This was exactly what he wanted to learn.

After all, in this world, learning flowery, superficial moves was useless.

Zhou Liang continued, "Building a foundation in martial arts starts with nourishing your Qi and blood. Tempering your tendons and bones, standing in stances, and circulating Qi are all methods to strengthen your Qi and blood. Only when your Qi and blood are filled to the peak can you knock on the door of 'Ming Jin' (Clear Power)."

"Watch closely."

Zhou Liang suddenly leaped onto a plum blossom stake, his thin, withered body as light as a monkey's.

He struck a strange pose: his left arm reached forward like a monkey grasping the moon, his right fist pulled back like a leopard hiding its claws, his legs slightly bent, as if sitting yet not sitting. His whole body exuded a tense, ready-to-pounce energy.

"The Tongbei Stance, the intent is 'the monkey's arm reaches the heavens,'" Zhou Liang’s voice suddenly became resonant. "The crown of the head is suspended, the tailbone is straight, the waist is relaxed, and the hips sit as if on a stool."

"You try it."

"Yes, Master!"

Chen Qing imitated him and stepped onto the stake, immediately feeling the world spin.

This seemingly simple posture required every muscle in his body to be twisted tight like a hemp rope, straining against each other.

In less than three breaths, he tumbled off, his elbow scraping a bloody mark on the blue bricks.

This Tongbei Stance was not that simple!

Chen Qing panted heavily and asked, "Master, the Qi and blood you mentioned, knocking on the door, breaking through to Ming Jin..."

Zhou Liang explained, "Learning martial arts involves two processes: one is accumulation, and the other is knocking on the door."

"Standing in stances and tempering your strength will nourish your own Qi and blood. When your Qi and blood reach a peak, you can 'knock on the door' to sublimate your strength. My Tongbei Fist can be cultivated to the perfection stage, allowing for three 'knocks': Ming Jin, An Jin (Dark Power), and Hua Jin (Transforming Power)."

"Each 'knock' is a world-changing transformation for a martial artist, but the risk of failure is high, and it will cause certain damage to the body. The further you go, the harder it is to knock on the door."

Hearing this, Chen Qing understood immediately.

Wasn't this "knocking on the door" just breaking through a bottleneck?

If he wanted to master it, didn't he have to complete the first "knock" within three months?

Thinking of this, he couldn't help but ask again, "Master, is the success rate for this first 'knock' high?"

Zhou Liang said indifferently, "For ordinary disciples, it's about twenty or thirty percent. The better your bones, the better your aptitude, and the wealthier your background, the higher your success rate."

Chen Qing was shocked.

The success rate was this low?

And this was only the first "knock"!

Ming Jin, An Jin, and Hua Jin clearly required three "knocks."

"My Tongbei Fist trains the stance internally and the fighting style externally. Only by combining the internal and external is it true Tongbei Fist."

Zhou Liang said calmly, "Start with the stance. Once your Qi and blood are tempered to a certain level, I will teach you the Tongbei fighting style."

"Yes!"

Chen Qing took a deep breath and stepped onto the wooden stake again.

Instantly, a sour, bone-piercing pain exploded from the soles of his feet, racing through his entire body like lightning.

He gritted his teeth, the veins on his forehead bulging, and beads of sweat rolled down, but his body remained as still as a rock, maintaining that twisted posture without a tremor.

Time passed slowly in agony.

Chen Qing felt as if his lungs were being scorched by a hot iron; every breath carried the scent of blood. His legs trembled like chaff on the wooden stake, but his toes gripped the surface so hard his knuckles turned white.

Half an hour passed, and his coarse cloth clothes were soaked through with sweat, sticking stickily to his body.

Just then, a golden light suddenly flashed in his mind

【Heaven rewards diligence; there will surely be success.】

【Tongbei Stance: Beginner (1/500)】

The minor, major, and perfection stages of the Tongbei Stance corresponded to the three realms of Ming Jin, An Jin, and Hua Jin.

Chen Qing wiped the sweat from his forehead and muttered to himself, "Others need to knock on the door to break through bottlenecks, but as long as I practice diligently, I will surely succeed."

According to Zhou Liang, ordinary people only had a twenty or thirty percent chance, but Chen Qing was different—as long as he practiced, he was guaranteed success.

This was the extraordinary nature of his destiny.

Heaven rewards diligence; there will surely be success.

Chen Qing suddenly felt motivated and began to practice diligently.

At noon, the other disciples in the courtyard were resting in twos and threes, but he was the only one repeating the boring stance movements over and over.

A few fellow disciples came over to greet him; he responded a few times and quickly returned to his training.

In the afternoon, the courtyard was filled with the sounds of heavy breathing and exertion.

After practicing the Tongbei Fist again, Chen Qing felt as if his bones and tendons had fallen apart, leaving him sore and weak.

Every step he took felt like walking on soft cotton; he felt incredibly lightheaded.

He panted, sweat sliding down his temples.

Just then, the disciples found sheltered corners to rest, taking out the food they had kept warm against their chests.

The temperature in the courtyard quickly sapped the heat from the food.

Chen Qing’s gaze swept over them. He saw disciples from poor backgrounds hunching their shoulders, struggling to chew on rock-hard cornmeal buns with cold pickled vegetables, each bite looking like a struggle.

Those from better backgrounds took out tightly wrapped oil paper, carefully uncovering them to reveal white flour pancakes that still held some warmth, and even a few slices of braised meat with congealed fat.

The faint, savory scent of meat drifted through the cold air, making his stomach feel even emptier.

Chen Qing touched his stomach; a violent spasm of hunger hit him, and he swallowed dryly.

"Junior Brother Chen."

Sun Shun walked over quickly, holding two steaming white buns that had just come out of the steamer. "It's your first day, I assume you didn't bring food? The courtyard provides some food before morning training—sometimes it's grain pancakes, sometimes it's these white flour buns. It's all included in the tuition. I specifically saved two for you."

"It's freezing, and training takes a lot of energy; you can't do it on an empty stomach. From tomorrow on, remember to go to the kitchen on time. If your consumption is high and you want to eat well, you'll have to bring your own."

As he spoke, he shoved the buns into Chen Qing’s hands.

This martial arts school wasn't like a high-end academy; many disciples were from poor backgrounds.

What Zhou Liang was thinking of with this gesture probably wasn't just those few taels of silver, but a way out and a glimmer of hope for these people.

"Thank you, Senior Brother!"

A light ignited in Chen Qing’s eyes, and he took them hurriedly.

The buns were warm and soft in his hands, and a sweet, wheaty aroma wafted up.

White flour and refined grain—in this cold winter, for someone from a fisherman's family like him, it was a rare warmth and luxury.

"Don't mention it, eat up," Sun Shun said with a smile, waving his hand and walking away.

Chen Qing held the buns, unable to resist any longer, and took a bite.

The soft, hot interior, filled with the sweetness of grain, instantly warmed his mouth.

He practically wolfed them down, swallowing the two buns in just a few bites.

A warmth rose from his stomach, dispelling some of the chill brought on by exhaustion.

He leaned against a cold pillar to catch his breath. The soreness in his body hadn't completely vanished, but the feeling of weakness had lessened significantly.

Watching his fellow disciples, most of whom were still resting or eating, Chen Qing took a deep breath, straightened his back, and returned to the wooden stake.

He knew that for someone with the 【Heaven rewards diligence】 destiny, he had to put in more sweat than anyone else.

Over and over again, soon his clothes were soaked through with sweat.

By the time dusk fell, he was the only one left in the courtyard.

【Tongbei Stance: Beginner (5/500)】