Great Power Reclamation

Iron Hammer's training begins at five in the morning. Not five-thirty, not five-fifteen, but exactly five o'clock.

On the first day, Ye Guigen was awakened by a series of urgent whistles. He opened his eyes; it was still dark outside. He reached for his phone and glanced at it: 5:02 AM.

He turned over, wanting to sleep a little longer, when the sound of a hammer rang out outside the door, neither too loud nor too soft, clearly audible through the door: "Mr. Ye, it's time to get up."

Ye Guigen lay on the bed staring at the ceiling, remained silent for a while, and then got up.

When he pushed open the door, he saw Yang Chenglong already standing in the hallway, wearing a short-sleeved T-shirt, his hair a mess, his eyes still closed, but he was standing straight. Tiechui glanced at them:
"Come with me."

The training ground was an open space outside the port, with hard sand on the ground and a few short trees scattered around it, bent by the sea breeze.

Ye Guigen and Yang Chenglong stood in the open space, with Tiechui standing in front of them with his hands on his hips. Without any warm-up exercises, he immediately said:
"Run first."

Yang Chenglong was taken aback: "How far?"

Hammer said, "Run until I say stop." Then he turned around and started running.

Yang Chenglong and Ye Guigen exchanged a glance and followed. The first two kilometers were fine; both of them were physically fit and nimble.

Starting at the three-kilometer mark, Yang Chenglong's breathing became heavier, while Ye Guigen managed to stay steady, though sweat began to bead on his forehead.

At the four-kilometer mark, Yang Chenglong slowed down, bent over and panting, "Brother Iron Hammer... how much further?"

Iron Hammer ran ahead without turning his head: "One kilometer left."

Yang Chenglong wanted to say something, but he was out of breath and swallowed his words, gritting his teeth and continuing to run. When the five kilometers were finished, Tiechui stopped, turned around and looked at them, his face neither flushed nor out of breath:
"Day 1, 5 kilometers. Tomorrow, 6 kilometers."

Yang Chenglong, hands on his knees, sweat dripping onto the sand, said, "We didn't come here to be soldiers..."

Iron Hammer said, "The port is in a war-torn country, and joining the army is to save one's life."

Ye Guigen stood to the side, offering no rebuttal.

Running was just a warm-up. After the run, Hammer made them do push-ups. Not the kind where you put your hands on the ground, but one arm.

Ye Guigen did it on one side, then switched to the other. When he reached the twentieth repetition, his arms started to shake.

Iron Hammer squatted down next to him: "You've trained before?"

Ye Guigen didn't answer, his arm trembling, and he did another push: "I've practiced Bajiquan."

Iron Hammer nodded: "No wonder. Your core is more stable than the average person. But boxing and fighting are different. Boxing is about hitting people, fighting is about killing people."

After a moment of contemplation, Iron Hammer muttered, "Back then, your father and I went through hellish training. You two were both spoiled rotten by Grandma Plum Blossom and Aunt Jade!"

Yang Chenglong, who was lying prone beside him, was too exhausted to support himself any longer. He was sprawled on the ground like a flatbread. Upon hearing this, he blushed but still asked:
What's the difference between the two?

Iron Hammer said, "Hold back when you hit someone, but show no mercy when you kill them. If you don't hold back at the port, the port will be gone."

Yang Chenglong didn't speak. He rolled over and lay on the ground, looking at the sky. It was already dawn, and the sea breeze carried a salty, fishy smell. He took a deep breath.

"Then teach us the kind of skill that doesn't hold back."

Iron Hammer didn't teach them how to hit; he taught them how to take a beating first. He called Ye Guigen and Yang Chenglong to the center of the open space, made them stand face to face, and then said:

"You punch him, he punches you. Don't use force, use skill. Feel the direction of the opponent's force, how to deflect it, how to use their force against them."

Yang Chenglong clenched his fist and punched Ye Guigen without holding back. Ye Guigen dodged to the side, and Yang Chenglong's fist grazed the surface of his clothes, causing him to stumble forward a step.

Ye Guigen slapped him on the back with his backhand. It wasn't hard, but the spot was right between his shoulder blades, which made Yang Chenglong cough twice.

Yang Chenglong rubbed his back: "You've trained before?"

Ye Guigen said, "My grandfather taught me."

Yang Chenglong said, "Your grandfather taught you well."

Ye Guigen said, "Didn't your grandfather teach you how to stand still?"

Yang Chenglong said, "He taught me how to ride a horse. I could stand firmly on the horse, but I couldn't stand firmly on the ground."

Iron Hammer stood to the side without saying a word, watched them for a while, and then said only, "Again."

The training lasted for a week. Every morning at five o'clock, the whistle blew on time. They got used to it, and later they no longer needed Hammer to blow the whistle. They would wake up on time, change into their sportswear, and walk to the open space outside the port to assemble.

The running distance increased from five kilometers to eight kilometers, the number of push-ups increased from twenty with one arm to fifty, and the fighting skills improved from being beaten to being able to fight back.

Firearms training began on the fifteenth day. It wasn't the previous fixed-target training; it was moving-target training.

Iron Hammer hung several old oil drums on a rope, letting the sea breeze make them sway back and forth. Ye Guigen raised his gun, aimed at the swaying oil drum, held his breath, and pulled the trigger.

The bullet struck the sand next to the oil drum, missing its target by a hand's breadth. Yang Chenglong laughed beside him, "You missed."

Ye Guigen didn't speak. He adjusted his breathing and fired again. This time, he hit the target. The oil drum made a crisp metallic sound.

Yang Chenglong watched him from the side and said, "You're lucky."

Ye Guigen lowered his gun: "It wasn't luck. It was because the offset was calculated correctly."

Yang Chenglong asked, "What were you chanting when you were aiming just now?"

Ye Guigen said, "Wind speed, distance, bullet drop-off. I calculated everything before I fired. You shoot based on feel, I shoot based on formulas."

Yang Chenglong picked up his gun and fired a shot at a shaking oil drum, hitting it.

"Then I also rely on formulas. My formula is that as soon as I pick it up, I know which direction it should lean in."

The two men were pointing their guns at each other, trying to see who could shoot more accurately, when Iron Hammer kicked one of them from behind.
"Gun isn't for comparing. It's for using. Even if you win the contest, the target won't fall. You only win when the target falls."

The two men were kicked and staggered forward a step. They obediently put away their guns, picked them up again, faced forward, and stopped talking.

Once, after training, the three of them sat on an open ground to rest. Iron Hammer took out a pack of compressed biscuits from his pocket and broke them into three pieces.

Yang Chenglong took it and took a bite, chewing it like a piece of tile: "Is this what you usually eat?"

Hammer said, "This is all you can eat."

Yang Chenglong chewed for a long time before swallowing: "Don't you guys eat normally?"

"Eat. Eat if you have time. Don't eat if you don't have time."

Ye Guigen held the half-eaten compressed biscuit without eating it: "Next time I'll have the port canteen save some food for you."

Iron Hammer was silent for a moment: "No need. Compressed biscuits are enough. You guys eat yours. We often don't eat, and we'd actually feel uncomfortable eating like this."

Ye Guigen put the compressed biscuits into his pocket without replying. Yang Chenglong fired another shot, this time hitting the target. He put down his gun, turned around and glanced at Ye Guigen: "Guigen, your marksmanship is better than mine."

Ye Guigen held his gun, not putting it down: "It's not that my marksmanship is better than yours. It's that you always want to hit the bullseye, while I only want to hit the target. You always take a long time to aim, while I just aim roughly and then shoot. You get a bullseye. I get a nine. But a nine and a bullseye are no different on the battlefield."

Yang Chenglong paused for a moment, holding the gun: "No difference?"

Ye Guigen lowered his gun: "There's no difference. Because whether it's a nine-ring or a ten-ring, the target has fallen."

Yang Chenglong looked at the oil drums in the distance, which swayed back and forth in the sea breeze, as if mocking his earlier comment about the ring count.

He held the gun without aiming, firing a shot by feel. The bullet hit the edge of the oil drum with a clang: "Then I'll just shoot roughly too."

Iron Hammer stood to the side, offering no comment, but the corner of his mouth seemed to twitch slightly. Yang Chenglong didn't notice that subtle change, but Ye Guigen did.

He held the gun, but didn't fire. He tilted his head and looked at Iron Hammer: "Brother Iron Hammer, did you just laugh?"

Iron Hammer composed himself: "No."

Ye Guigen looked at him for two seconds: "Okay, you're not laughing. Continue."

By the time training ended that day, the sun was high in the sky, making the sand scorching hot. The three of them sat in the shade of the crooked, short tree, and Iron Hammer took three bottles of water out of the car, one for each of them.

Yang Chenglong unscrewed the cap and took a big gulp of water, which dripped down his chin to his chest. He raised his hand and wiped it with his sleeve: "Brother Iron Hammer, have you ever taken on apprentices before?"

Iron Hammer thought for a moment: "Let it go. Not much."

Yang Chenglong then asked, "Then why are you willing to teach us?"

Iron Hammer unscrewed his water bottle but didn't drink it: "Because your dad asked me to take care of you."

Yang Chenglong was stunned for a moment: "My dad? Yang Wei?"

Iron Hammer shook his head: "It's not Yang Wei. It's your dad."

He glanced at Ye Guigen. "Ye Feng. He called me and said you two are in Africa, and told me to keep an eye on you. But don't spoil them!"

Ye Guigen held the water bottle, remaining silent. Tiechui continued:

He said he had taught you kung fu before, but not how to fight. Fighting is different from kung fu. Kung fu has rules, but fighting has no rules. He was afraid that if you followed the rules, you would suffer.

Ye Guigen paused for a moment: "My dad never told me that."

Hammer smiled, a smile that stood out vividly on his sun-darkened face:
"He's not a man of many words. But just because he doesn't talk doesn't mean he doesn't care. He knows everything you've been doing here. He just doesn't say anything."

Yang Chenglong sat beside him, listening to this conversation, and after a while, he spoke up: "Uncle Iron Hammer, what is your relationship with my dad?"

Iron Hammer took a sip of water: "He and I are like brothers. Not blood brothers, but closer than blood brothers. Your two grandfathers were my grandfather's apprentices, and your father and I were childhood friends, we grew up together."

Yang Chenglong wanted to ask more, but Ye Guigen spoke first: "Uncle Iron Hammer, when did my dad tell you this?"

Iron Hammer thought for a moment: "Before you left, he said you were going to Africa and might encounter trouble, so he asked me to make arrangements in advance." Ye Guigen didn't ask any more questions.

Yang Chenglong sat down next to him and waited a while before speaking: "Then you're my uncle too?"

Tiechui said, "Whatever you say." Yang Chenglong laughed, "Then I'll call you Uncle from now on." Tiechui didn't object.

The afternoon training was more tiring than the morning training. Iron Hammer taught them close combat, not the previous sparring, but real close-quarters combat.

He had Yang Chenglong and Ye Guigen take turns sparring with him, and each time they were knocked down by Tiechui within a few moves.

When Ye Guigen was thrown onto the sand, Tiechui squatted down and looked into his eyes:

"You're too fixated on techniques, always thinking about how to counter them next. The battlefield doesn't wait for you to think things through before you strike. The battlefield only allows one move. You only allow one move too. One move decides the outcome; there is no second move."

Ye Guigen got up from the sand and patted the sand off his body: "Then how can we not be bound by the moves?"

Iron Hammer stood up: "Hit. Hit until your body moves before your brain. If your brain is slow, your body isn't. If your body isn't slow, you won't lose."

Yang Chenglong rubbed his sore shoulder, saying, "Uncle Iron Hammer, how did you throw me like that? I didn't even see what happened before I was lying on the ground."

Hammer said, "That's because you're watching while I'm doing. The one who watches is always a step behind. The one who does is always a step ahead."

Yang Chenglong thought for a moment and said, "Then I won't look at it anymore, I'll just do it directly."

Iron Hammer said, "Then you might as well watch it. At least if you watch it, you'll know how you lost. If you don't watch it, you won't even know why you lost."

After training that day, the three men sat around the campfire for dinner. The fire wasn't large, and a small iron pot sat on top, simmering a local stew.

Anyway, Yang Chenglong didn't recognize the ingredients, he just kept eating and slurped down two bowls.

Ye Guigen ate slowly, holding his bowl, while Tiechui sat across the fire watching him.

"Your habit of eating in small bites is exactly the same as your dad's. He eats slowly too, like he's counting grains of rice."

Ye Guigen put down his bowl: "How long have you known each other?"

Hammer thought for a moment: "A lifetime. I've known him since birth, back when we were still wearing open-crotch pants!"

Yang Chenglong chimed in from the side, "Did he teach you anything?"

Iron Hammer said, "It taught me two things. First, always leave yourself a way out. Second, even if you have a way out, you must be prepared to burn your bridges."

Ye Guigen was silent for a while: "What he taught you is different from what he taught me."

Iron Hammer said, "What he taught you was how to survive. What he taught me was how to hold on. They're different, but they're both on the same line. You're his son, I'm his brother, and this line can't be broken." Ye Guigen didn't reply.

That night, Yang Chenglong lay on the floor, propping up his head with a pillow:
"Ultimately, Uncle Iron Hammer is really amazing?"

Ye Guigen paused for a moment in the darkness: "But he admires our grandfather, and he also admires my father! My grandfather said that in my generation, we must listen to Uncle Iron Hammer. His words are as effective as the rules of the Ye family."

Yang Chenglong said, "So you have to listen to everything he says?" Ye Guigen said, "Yes."

The whistle blew again the next morning. Ye Guigen opened his eyes, didn't lie in bed for a second longer, put on his clothes, rolled out of bed, and moved much more nimbly than before.

This time, he didn't hesitate in bed at 5:02; he was already standing in the corridor at 5:01.

Yang Chenglong stood beside him, his hair still disheveled, but he had straightened up. Tiechui glanced at them, said nothing, and turned to leave.

"Today we're practicing shooting. We're shooting at moving targets. If you miss, you won't get lunch."

No one went hungry that day. (End of Chapter)