Chapter 41: Practicing Boxing

The night was deep, and Song Changjing, the Inspector-General, returned to his official residence alone. The young Song Jixin had already gone to the dog-kennel-like Mud Bottle Lane. The man didn't insist otherwise. As a general who had commanded troops for many years, he could snore loudly even amidst mountains of corpses and seas of blood. Therefore, he didn't feel he owed that nephew of his anything, even though the boy's life hadn't exactly matched the status of someone of noble blood. It was good enough that he had returned alive to the capital of Great Li.

The elderly steward of the official residence had been waiting at the door, holding a lantern.

Song Changjing was the first to step over the threshold of the side door, which was only opened slightly, and strode forward, saying, "No need to lead the way."

The elderly steward nodded silently, slowed his pace, and quietly left.

This official residence on Fulu Street wasn't built lavishly. Its area was far smaller than the residences of the Lu and Li families. The previous, genuine Pottery Affairs Inspector-General lived a frugal life, and the town's big shots didn't find anything wrong with it.

But Song Changjing was different. He was the current Great Li Emperor's younger brother by the same mother, and he had performed world-shaking feats of territorial expansion. He was also a top martial arts master in Eastern Treasure Bottle Continent.

His arrival was like a river dragon barging into a small lake. Even if the local bullies weren't exactly afraid, they would all show due respect to someone like Song Changjing.

As Song Changjing passed a small courtyard, he saw someone still reading late into the night inside a room, sitting upright, meticulous even when alone.

*Truly a gentleman,* he thought.

Song Changjing's sleeves fluttered as he walked past quickly, a mocking smile on his lips.

Once, a young scholar studied at Guanhai Academy. His calligraphy was divine, causing a sensation in the court. The King of Southern Wei summoned him to the palace to draft edicts in a side hall. It was the dead of winter, and snow was falling heavily. The brush froze and wouldn't write, so the emperor ordered more than a dozen palace concubines to stand beside him, warming the brush with their breath.

This matter quickly became popular throughout Eastern Treasure Bottle Continent, hailed as a beautiful story.

But no one thought deeply about it. How strict were the palace regulations? If the emperor didn't speak of it, the eunuchs didn't speak of it, the concubines didn't speak of it, how would the common people know?

Walking on the secluded path, Song Changjing suddenly laughed heartily.

Dressed in plain clothes, Song Jixin returned to Mud Bottle Lane. The courtyard door wasn't locked. He pushed open the door and saw the maid Zhigui sitting on a chair in the main hall, half-asleep, her head tilted to one side. When her head tilted to a certain angle, she would immediately sit up straight, then continue to tilt.

It seemed the girl was really tired. Song Jixin bent down and gently shook her shoulder, saying softly, "Zhigui, Zhigui, wake up. Go back to your room and sleep quickly, or you'll catch a cold."

The sleepy girl rubbed her eyes and said groggily, "Young Master, why are you back so late?"

Song Jixin smiled. "I went to the Covered Bridge. It's a bit far, so I was late."

Zhigui saw the unfamiliar formal attire Song Jixin was wearing and said in surprise, "Huh? Why did Young Master change his clothes?"

Song Jixin didn't want to talk about it. "Never mind that. How is your reading and writing coming along with the local county gazetteer I lent you? Do you want me to teach you?"

The girl shook her head. "No need."

Song Jixin returned to his room, which was pitch black. He took off his coat, kicked off his boots, and felt his way to the bed. The boy murmured, "Wang Zhu, Wang Zhu, so that's how it is."

Zhigui returned to her room, put out the light, and went to sleep. She huddled in the blanket, making slight noises as if she were secretly eating something, chewing on something in her mouth.

In the end, she even let out a satisfied burp.

Although Liu Xianyang hadn't officially become Master Ruan's apprentice at the sword-forging workshop, everyone could see that Master Ruan valued the tall young man very much. Otherwise, he wouldn't personally teach him how to forge sword blanks. Not everyone could enter that row of sword-forging rooms now.

During the midday break, a young man who had been a porcelain kiln worker ran to Liu Xianyang, saying someone was looking for him, winking and making playful gestures, saying it was a beautiful woman, even more beautiful than the ladies of Fulu Street, who had come to find Liu Xianyang.

Liu Xianyang followed him with a grin, but his heart suddenly became heavy.

Sure enough, a slender woman stood beside a well. Many young men who were digging wells and moving earth were working especially hard around her.

As the Little Master Song Jixin had scorned, Liu Xianyang was indeed a bumpkin, but whether a woman was beautiful or not had nothing to do with whether he had read books or knew how to write. Perhaps the tall young man didn't know that the vague notion of "beautiful" actually included something called charm, especially a dignified and inwardly charming woman, which was particularly moving.

The character *mei*, charm, if broken down, originally meant "daughter who paints eyebrows".

The woman in front of him, whose name and background were unknown, had eyebrows as delicate as silkworm whiskers and a forehead like a cicada's, broad and square, smooth and full.

Today, she had come alone, without any show of force, and didn't seem to be relying on her power to bully others. Liu Xianyang breathed a slight sigh of relief.

However, no matter how beautiful the face of this dignified and wealthy woman was, Liu Xianyang didn't deny that if he had met her on the street in the past, he might have even whistled a few times, but that didn't mean that Liu Xianyang would be moved. The woman the tall young man admired, before was that maid from Mud Bottle Lane, now is, and will be in the future as well.

Liu Xianyang led the beautiful woman to the small stream, saying in a firm tone, "Madam, if you're trying to persuade me to sell you that family heirloom, I advise you not to bring it up."

The woman smiled charmingly. "Don't be in such a hurry to refuse. Let me explain the advantages and disadvantages clearly to you, and then you can make a decision."

The tall young man's expression didn't change, and he pretended to be relaxed, but his heart instantly sank to the bottom.

In the distance, a girl squatted on the threshold of a sword-forging room, holding a bowl of rice. The white rice was piled up in a mountain shape, towering over the edge of the large white bowl. She was gobbling it down, and after eating the "mountain top," she saw the braised pork that had been hidden inside, as she had hoped. Her whole person radiated a happy glow. She secretly turned her back, facing away from the man sitting on the other end of the threshold, chewing slowly, and asked, "Dad, aren't you going to do something about that woman from out of town?"

The man said in a muffled voice, "No."

The girl in green said worriedly, "He's going to be your first disciple here. Aren't you afraid he'll go down the wrong path?"

The man said indifferently, "Then the kid's just unlucky."

The girl asked doubtfully, "Dad, aren't you going to feel sorry?"Like her, seeing those delicious and delicate pastries in the shop, it wasn't just that she had no money in her pocket; she had money, bought them, and then accidentally dropped them on the ground. Truly, she deserved to be struck by lightning.

The man answered irrelevantly, "Is braised pork belly delicious?"

The girl subconsciously nodded happily, "Delicious, delicious!"

The girl suddenly tensed up. Her father had issued an "edict" that she could only eat one meat dish a day, so she pretended to have only filled a bowl with white rice, hiding the braised pork belly inside. This was so she could openly eat a meat dish at night.

The girl awkwardly turned her head, raised her white bowl high, and said with a clear conscience, "Only one piece, I didn't break the rules!"

The man chuckled and asked, "Then wouldn't it be a pity if you couldn't eat the braised pork belly hidden at the bottom of the bowl?"

The girl's mouth opened slightly, her whole body as if struck by lightning, her heart filled with despair.

The man added salt to his daughter's wounds, "If you hadn't been so talkative about Liu Xianyang's affairs, I would have turned a blind eye."

The girl ate the braised pork belly in small bites without saying a word, showing she would definitely be frugal in the future.

After the man finished eating, he looked towards the woman and young man by the stream and said, "If this kid doesn't reach the Middle Five Realms in a day, I won't care about his life or death. Even if he enters the Middle Five Realms, I'll only care once or twice, but I'll never interfere too much. No more than three times. Fortune and misfortune have no door, only men invite them."

The girl said rebelliously, "Why not care?!"

The man said irritably, "Scholars accept students, martial artists accept disciples, neither of which are like Jianghu gangs recruiting lackeys. It's not to think that later, when disputes arise, they can rely on numbers to argue or fight. Ultimately, in my eyes, teachers and students, masters and disciples, are fellow travelers. Besides, Liu Xianyang isn't my disciple yet."

The girl didn't speak.

The man sighed, "Silly girl, just take this corner of the Great Li Dynasty. Do you know how many people there are? More than twenty million households! So many people in the world, so many worries, can you manage them all? I'll be taking over the town from Qi Jingchun in the next sixty years. You should stop wandering around all day and focus on forging swords and practicing swordsmanship at the sword furnace. Otherwise, if you cause trouble, should I care or not?"

Before the man could finish speaking, the girl blurted out, "I don't need you to care."

Her words almost caused the man internal injuries, their power no weaker than a certain Sword Immortal's trump card.

The man really wanted to knock on his silly daughter's wooden head. Your affairs, can I not care?

The man was somewhat melancholic.

The girl wore a "shocked" expression and exclaimed, "Oh, why is there another piece of braised pork belly at the bottom of the bowl? Alas, I've used up my share for today, should I give it to you, Father?"

The man didn't need to turn his head to feel his silly girl's clumsy acting. Helpless, he said, "Forget it, you eat it. I'll pretend you only ate one piece of braised pork belly today. Remember to forge iron this afternoon, don't be lazy again."

This time, the girl's gratitude was not feigned at all. "Father, you're so good!"

The man laughed in exasperation, "It's the braised pork belly that's good, right?"

The girl lowered her head, scooped up a mouthful of rice, and said softly, "Father is good too."

The man kept a straight face and barely managed to suppress his laughter. He thought, having a daughter is good.

Suddenly, a voice sounded in his ear, "Father, can I have another piece tonight? Two pieces and three pieces, not much different, right? If you don't say anything, I'll take that as a yes, okay?"

The girl ran away with lightning speed.

That last sentence was said when the girl had already run far away.

The man rubbed his cheeks and muttered to himself, "My Xiuxiu lives to eat."

After Chen Ping'an finished delivering letters through the streets and alleys, he bought a breakfast and sent it to Miss Ning in Mud Bottle Lane, then began to brew medicine skillfully.

Ning Yao was wearing a brand new dark green robe today, clean and neat. She was already naturally heroic, and this outfit, plus a long knife at her waist, made her even more noble than the wealthy young masters from Peach Leaf Lane in Fortune Street.

Ning Yao hesitated for a moment, "For now, if you really want to study that 'Mountain Shaking Manual', before learning the fist techniques, you need to do three things: stance training, stepping practice, and sleeping stance. The last one is more about accumulating acupoints and circulating breath, it's hard to describe in words, so let's not talk about it for now. Anyway, the first two things don't require too much consideration of talent or aptitude. If you honestly follow the postures drawn in the fist manual and persist for a long time, it will eventually be useful. Even if it can't let you enter the hall of martial arts, strengthening your body and prolonging your life isn't impossible."

Chen Ping'an voiced one of his ideas, "Is it okay to practice stepping practice in the stream?"

Ning Yao nodded and said, "Of course. Start knee-deep, then waist-deep, and finally neck-deep."

Chen Ping'an followed her words and asked, "Wouldn't the whole person be in the water in the end?"

Ning Yao sneered, "What, do you want to practice holding your breath underwater and become a thousand-year-old turtle, a ten-thousand-year-old tortoise?"

Chen Ping'an didn't speak, feeling awkward.

Ning Yao thought for a moment, "Come, I'll demonstrate stepping practice for you. Watch carefully!"

Ning Yao had Chen Ping'an move the table away, then took six steps forward, the steps being three small and three large. When she took the last step and stomped down heavily, the mud ground of the entire house seemed to emit a dull vibration.

The girl finished in one breath.

It seemed understated, but it was smooth and flowing, giving the straw sandal boy an indescribable feeling.

Like a waterfall plunging straight down, natural and righteous, and containing immense power. Also like a leaf spinning in a stream, round and satisfying, extremely gentle.

Everything was right, but Chen Ping'an only knew what it was, but not why it was.

Seeing the boy's blank expression, Ning Yao returned to her original position and demonstrated again.

Ning Yao stood still, turned her head and asked, "Do you understand now? Try it?"

Chen Ping'an took a deep breath and tried it once.

He swayed, like a drunken drunkard.

Chen Ping'an stood in place, scratching his head, obviously feeling that he was a bit ridiculous himself.

Ning Yao said sternly with a dark face, "Again!"

After three times, Chen Ping'an had improved slightly, but Ning Yao's face was already as gloomy as if a storm was about to break.

She couldn't imagine how there could be such a fool as Chen Ping'an in the world, so lacking in comprehension when practicing martial arts, so terrible in talent!

There was no choice.Ning Yao, from birth, stood at the pinnacle of swordplay. Her lineage, innate talent, natural gifts, and vision were all exceptional.

Therefore, the young woman simply couldn't comprehend how those at the foot of the mountain, a hundred thousand miles away, ascended step by step. Nor could she understand why they staggered so.

Finally, at her wit's end, fearing she might lose her temper and draw her blade, the quick-thinking girl patted the straw-sandaled boy's shoulder, offering a strained comfort, "Chen Ping An, reading a book a hundred times reveals its meaning. Martial arts follow the same principle. If you can't grasp the essence after practicing a fist technique tens of thousands of times, then do it hundreds of thousands, a million times! Go pick up your stones. A clumsy bird starts early. Don't be discouraged. Take your time, and practice walking the stakes over and over again in the stream."

Chen Ping An considered this. It made sense.

He'd once heard Song Ji Xin say something similar to Ning Yao's "reading a book a hundred times," something about reading ten thousand scrolls to write like a god.

However, the boy found Ning Yao's words about practicing a million times even more compelling.

Chen Ping An smiled and ran out of Mud Jar Lane, reciting the stances in his mind, trying to imitate Ning Yao's posture from memory.

In his heart, the straw-sandaled boy told himself the "truth" – that after practicing a million times, he might achieve minor success in his fist techniques.

So, the starting point for practicing this *Shaking Mountain Manual* was one million repetitions. Only after that would Chen Ping An be qualified to discuss anything else.

Ning Yao sat alone on the doorstep, muttering to herself, "Why do I feel like I've dug an enormous pit? Will that fellow ever be able to climb out of it?"