The Martial Lord of the Troubled World

Chapter 5 The Young Master's Cultivation

In this era of rampant firearms, Fu Juemin originally did not have high expectations for martial arts.

After all, there's a saying from my past life: "No matter how good your kung fu is, one shot can take you down."

Li Tong's words, however, gave Fu Juemin many different expectations for the path of martial arts.

"...However, reaching the Profound Realm is extremely difficult. Out of ten martial artists who cultivate blood, perhaps only one can break through the Blood Barrier and enter the Profound Realm."

Li Tong scooped a spoonful of bone broth and gently poured it into the rice. He glanced at Fu Juemin and said, "Young Master started practicing martial arts late. By the time you're nineteen, your bones are almost fully formed. Practicing martial arts is inherently more difficult than for ordinary people, and it's even more impossible to reach the profound level."

"Uncle is joking. How could I have thought of such a far-reaching thing? I'm just surprised."

Fu Juemin smiled and sat down again, saying he didn't care, but he had a completely different thought in his heart.

He did start late, but the Fu family is wealthy, and he comes with a game character panel related to martial arts, so he may well achieve something in martial arts in the future.

Of course, to achieve this, we first need Fu Guosheng's support.

Fu Juemin didn't go to the front hall for dinner, partly because he was too tired to move, and partly because he wanted to test Fu Guosheng's attitude.

In just the short time it took to eat, the servants serving in the front hall had already come three times, presumably at Fu Guosheng's behest.

Based on Fu Juemin's understanding of his adoptive father, as long as he behaves himself and doesn't cause trouble or run around, Fu Guosheng will most likely support him no matter what he does.

Thinking it over, Fu Juemin gave a look to the servant next to him to wipe his mouth, and then asked, "Has Uncle Tong reached the profound understanding yet?"

Li Tong didn't speak, just kept eating and picking at his food, as if he hadn't heard Fu Juemin's question.

Fu Juemin then changed the subject: "Uncle Tong, what level have our guards reached in their training?"

This time, Li Tong answered.

"Two are forging bones, the rest are still grinding skin."

The guards of the Fu family would be considered top-notch even in Luanhe County, yet this was merely a matter of refining skin and bones.

Thinking of this, Fu Juemin felt even more motivated.

I ate and chatted with Li Tong for more than half an hour.

After dinner, Li Tong stopped teaching Fu Juemin to practice standing meditation. Fu Juemin was too tired to practice anymore, so he took a bath with the help of the servants and went upstairs to rest.

Inside the spacious bedroom, a standing copper cabinet blew out cold air; it was filled with ice, and when the night breeze blew, the whole room felt cool.

Fu Juemin lay flat on the soft, comfortable bed, holding a revolver in his hand, listening to the melodious tunes coming from the phonograph loudspeaker. The fatigue from standing in the stance all day surged up like a tide, and he drifted off to sleep.

In his dream, he was sometimes wielding a sword and a gun, roaming the world; other times he returned to his rented room from his past life, drinking cola and playing video games.
The next day, Fu Juemin continued to practice the Hunyuan stance with Li.

After the initial novelty wore off on the first day, the repetitive standing meditation practice on the second day became somewhat unbearable, and by the third day it was even more difficult.

It's not just the physical exhaustion that's unbearable, but also the psychological frustration and boredom.

After all, all you do all day is practice the same posture and movement: squatting and standing.

Li Tong didn't pressure him, and even seemed to be waiting for him to give up on his own.

Fu Juemin held his breath. He wasn't a "native" young master of the Fu family. He had suffered a lot in his previous life, struggling in society. It was just "military training in the Republic of China era." Fu Juemin gritted his teeth and used Li Tong's saying "Tongxuan can block foreign bullets" to make a big promise to himself, and stubbornly persisted.

And so it went, the fourth day, the fifth day.

After practicing for six days, things finally started to change.
.

.

On a bright and sunny morning.

In the backyard lawn of the Fu family, under a rather old and lush apple tree, Fu Juemin squatted quietly in a horse stance.

His gaze was level with his chest, his arms crossed as if embracing a log. His whole being seemed still yet was in motion, following a unique rhythm and cadence, his body moving slightly up and down.

Sweat trickled down his clear jawline, and the incessant chirping of cicadas around him seemed to melt into his eyes like tiny stars.

After an unknown amount of time, Fu Juemin relaxed his stance. "Whoosh—"

He exhaled a long breath and stood up naturally.

Fu Juemin took the dry towel handed to him by the person next to him and slowly wiped the sweat from his body, casually asking, "How long have I been standing this time?"

"Hmm."

A young maid, about fifteen or sixteen years old, with a round face and long, thick braids, stared at the pocket watch clutched in her hand for a long time before stammering, "Young master, I don't understand it."

"You stupid Huaihua, haven't I taught you this several times already?"

The maid was fairly cute, but she gave off a somewhat dazed and confused vibe.

Fu Juemin took the pocket watch somewhat speechlessly, thought for a moment, and then changed his question, "How far have the hands on this watch moved?"

"I remember that!"

The maid quickly pointed to the clock face and gestured, "The short one moved a little bit, and the long one moved...this much."

"That's fifteen, about sixteen minutes."

Fu Juemin got the result and a slightly satisfied look on his face. "He stood for more than a minute longer than the previous one."

Uncle Tong is right, once you find the feeling in the stance, it really isn't as tiring anymore.

Fu Juemin could not help but marvel at the wonder of traditional martial arts. The postures were similar, but the only difference was whether one had "entered the gate" or not. With just one step, the inside and outside of the gate seemed like two different worlds.

Before finding the feeling of stance training, each time I practiced stance training, I felt like I was in excruciating pain, and every second felt like an eternity. After finding the feeling of stance training, stance training became a rather enjoyable experience.

After each standing session, the feeling of his entire body opening up and sweating profusely was something that Fu Juemin found somewhat addictive.

Ultimately, it's all thanks to this game character panel.

Thinking of this, Fu Juemin threw away the towel he was using to wipe his sweat and went straight to sit down on a soft couch under the shade of an apple tree.

He secretly brought up his character panel.

Fu Juemin

[Attack -1, Defense -1, Health -1, Mana -0]

[Practice Method: Hunyuan Stance (Beginner)]

【talent:】

Ever since he got dizzy and confused during a standing meditation session and somehow found the feeling of the stance, the words "Hun Yuan Zhuang (Beginner)" appeared on the panel.

The panel seemed to have some ability to solidify learned skills. From then on, every time he practiced standing meditation, he was able to find the feeling of the stance and easily enter the standing state, which made his progress exceptionally rapid.

"Master."

The young maid, Huaihua, timidly approached him, carrying a plate filled with what looked like radish roots.

Fu Juemin glanced at them, then picked out a radish root that looked good and put it in his mouth.

These are the tendrils that Fu Guoping, Fu Juemin’s second uncle, picked from the three-hundred-year-old ginseng root. Fu Juemin had specifically asked about them. He said that these tendrils could replenish essence and qi, and could be used to make soup, tea, or eaten raw. So he used them as snacks, and would chew a few when he was tired from standing in meditation.

Chewing on the ginseng rootlets, Fu Juemin casually unbuttoned his sweaty silk shirt, revealing a body with visible muscle definition. Xiao Huaihua shyly turned her face away.

At this moment, a middle-aged man with a braid, who had been waiting under the apple tree, rolled up his sleeves and gently placed his clean, slender hands on his shoulders.

"Young Master Fu, shall I begin?"

Fu Juemin gave a soft hum and then lay down on the soft couch.

The latter immediately began to knead and press his body with practiced ease.

The electric-like tingling and soreness that surged through the muscles where the pressure was applied instantly made Fu Juemin's entire face relax, and he couldn't help but let out a long, contented breath.

(End of this chapter)