Physical enlightenment begins with Xingyi Quan

As night deepened, the Xingyi Martial Arts School fell silent.

The oil lamps in the front yard had long been extinguished, with only a dim yellow light remaining in the corner of the kitchen.

Chen Jianghe squatted in front of the stove, staring at the meat and bones he had bought, his brows furrowed.

When he started practicing martial arts, he originally planned to bring the meat back to Mudfish Bay for his mother to cook.

The problem is that the Black Tiger Gang is like a pack of wild dogs that have smelled blood, always circling around Mudfish Bay.

If you stew meat at home, the aroma might waft out and get smelled by those gang members whose noses are sharper than wild dogs, which could cause some trouble.

Fortunately, I am now considered a member of the martial arts school. Although I have only paid tuition, I am still officially registered.

No matter how ruthless the Black Tiger Gang is, they won't do anything to him during this period. Besides, there are still more than ten days until the end of the month, so his mother's safety should be temporarily guaranteed.

"I need to successfully switch gears as soon as possible," he murmured.

As long as I can successfully "change my energy" and become a formal disciple of the martial arts school, I can then beg my master to see if my mother can come to the martial arts school to make a living—she can boil water, do laundry, or clean the yard.

Even if the martial arts school is dilapidated, it's still better than living in fear outside.

Chen Jianghe drew the butcher knife he always carried with him, a knife he never parted with, even after entering the martial arts school, he always kept it hidden at his waist.

His knife work was extremely steady; it wasn't just ordinary slicing, but rather separating along the grain of the flesh.

Fat was kept separate from lean meat, tendons were removed separately, and any remaining meat on the bones was scraped clean.

He discovered that master-level slaughtering techniques are not only fast and accurate, but also allow one to clearly perceive the 'essence' contained within the flesh and blood when processing meat.

Knowing which piece of meat to slice thinly, which part has the most bone marrow, and which fascia to remove has almost become instinct.

Such a knife technique results in the least loss of the essence of flesh and blood. If the meat were cut haphazardly in an ordinary way, it would be considered good if 60% or 70% of the nutrients could be retained. However, with his skillful butchering, at least 90% can be preserved.

When this kind of meat is simmered, the broth will be three times richer, and the meat will be even more tender.

Chen Jianghe twitched the corner of his mouth and said with a wry smile, "I suppose this can be considered a kind of aid in martial arts cultivation!"

The aroma of meat gradually intensified, mingling with a unique, mellow fragrance, filling the kitchen.

The earthenware pot made a soft "bubbling" sound as the soup simmered until it turned milky white.

Just as Chen Jianghe was about to taste it, a soft creaking sound came from the kitchen doorway.

"Wow, this smell—it's so tempting."

Chen Jianghe's heart tightened, and he turned around abruptly.

Su Derong was leaning against the door frame, tapping his palm lightly with a folding fan. He had his usual nonchalant smile, but his gaze was fixed on the bubbling earthenware pot.

"Third Senior Brother?" Chen Jianghe was somewhat surprised and quickly stood up. "Why are you..."

Su Derong picked up the conversation, waving his fan as he strolled in: "Why am I still at the martial arts school? Every family has its own troubles, don't ask too many questions."

He stopped by the stove, bent down and sniffed, his eyes lighting up slightly: "Smells good! Tsk tsk, you've got some skills, kid."

Chen Jianghe didn't know what to say, so he silently took a half step back.

Su Derong tapped the earthenware jar lightly with the rib of his fan, then looked up at him: "Is it almost ready? Can I... have a taste?"

Chen Jianghe then realized what was happening and quickly said, "Yes, of course! Please wait a moment, Senior Brother, I'll cook it for a little longer."

He squatted back down in front of the stove, carefully controlling the fire. Su Derong stood there, saying nothing, just watching quietly.

About fifteen minutes later, Chen Jianghe felt it was about time, so he got up and lifted the pot lid.

A rich aroma wafts up, the soup is milky white, and the meat chunks tremble slightly in the broth.

He picked up two rough earthenware bowls, filled them to the brim with soup, and put meat and a bone with marrow in each bowl.

"Senior brother, please."

"You're so sensible." Su Derong took the bowl, not minding the heat, and took a sip from the rim.

He squinted, savored the broth carefully, and after a long while, let out a sigh of relief: "Delicious. The meat is tender and juicy, and the bone marrow has completely dissolved into the soup. Your skill is no less than that of the head chef at 'Drunken Spring Pavilion'."

He hesitated for a moment before saying, "It's just a bit bland."

Chen Jianghe said with a wry smile, "There's no salt."

Su Derong was taken aback, then slapped his thigh: "I knew something was missing!"

He finished the soup in the bowl in a few gulps, smacked his lips, and seemed to want more.

After staring at the remaining broth in the pot for a few moments, he suddenly said, "Jiang He, senior brother, can I discuss something with you?"

Chen Jianghe raised his head in confusion: "Please speak, senior brother."

Su Derong fanned himself and said slowly, "You see, I plan to stay at the martial arts school for a while longer. I have some troubles at home that I don't want to deal with. But the food at the martial arts school, you know, coarse grain pancakes with pickled vegetables, it gets so bland after a while."

He paused, then pointed his fan at the pot: "How about this? Jiang He, I won't let you off easy this time. From now on, I'll provide the meat, and you can cook it. Stew, roast, stir-fry—it's up to you. Once it's done, we'll share it. How about that?"

Chen Jianghe was stunned.

Su Derong spoke casually, but he understood the meaning behind his words.

Meat was a truly precious commodity in the outer city of Yilin County today. A pound of pork belly cost two hundred coins, and an ordinary family might not be able to afford to eat it even once a month.

Su Derong casually said, "I'll take care of the meat," which meant he took on the biggest expense.

All I need to do is use my skills and strength.

This isn't a "discussion" at all; it's clearly a roundabout way of helping him.

Chen Jianghe immediately put down his bowl, stood up, and bowed solemnly to Su Derong: "I will remember your kindness, Senior Brother."

Su Derong raised his fan slightly, his lazy smile returning to his face: "It's a mutually beneficial arrangement. I provide the meat, you provide the labor—a fair trade. Besides, your soup-making skills are worth the price. I could probably pay more to hire a chef outside."

He suddenly remembered something, rummaged around in his pocket for a few moments, pulled out a small cloth bag about the size of his palm, and tossed it to Chen Jianghe: "Here, catch."

Chen Jianghe caught it.

The bag felt heavy in his hand, and he could feel the fine particles inside through the coarse cloth. He untied the rope, looked inside, and his breath caught in his throat—salt.

The salt grains are snow-white and fine; this small bag contains at least half a pound.

In these chaotic times, salt was more precious than meat. The salt industry in Yilin County had long been firmly controlled by the five major families in the inner city. Ordinary people not only had to pay high prices for salt, but it was also often adulterated with sand and other impurities. Only the wealthy families in the inner city or well-connected merchants could obtain such pure, fine salt.

Su Derong casually pulled out half a jin...

Chen Jianghe looked up at Su Derong, his eyes filled with complex emotions: "Senior brother, this is far too valuable!"

Su Derong, however, didn't seem to care. He pointed to the salt bag with his fan and said, "Take it. Dishes taste completely different without salt. I have some more; ask me for more when you're done."

He paused, then added, "Keep this salt safe, don't let anyone else see it. It's always good to avoid trouble."

Chen Jianghe gripped the salt bag tightly and said in a low voice, "Thank you, Senior Brother."

Su Derong waved his hand, squatted back down in front of the stove, and took a small sip of his drink. Suddenly, he asked, "Jiang He, your technique for handling the meat just now was quite unique. Who taught you that?"

Chen Jianghe was silent for a moment, then said, "I worked as a day laborer in the Shen family's slaughterhouse for three years."

Su Derong immediately realized: "No wonder. The cuts were so precise, separating the tendons from the meat."

He finished the soup in his bowl, satisfied and relieved. He gently tapped his knee with his fan and said casually, "When we practice Xingyi Quan, the first hurdle is changing our energy. To put it simply, this hurdle is about nourishing and strengthening the innate vital energy in our bodies, and then changing the way we generate power from our muscles to our tendons and bones. That energy and blood are the foundation. Without enough meat to nourish us, relying solely on depletion, no matter how talented you are, you won't be able to get through it."

He looked at Chen Jianghe: "You're at your weakest right now, so make sure you replenish yourself properly, don't skimp on anything. As long as it's delicious, there's plenty to eat!"

Chen Jianghe nodded emphatically: "I understand."

Su Derong stood up, stretched, and put the empty bowl back on the stove: "Alright, you've had your soup, and the deal is done. I'm going back to sleep. You can eat the rest of this pot; it's a time to nourish your blood and energy, don't deprive yourself."

After saying that, he waved his fan and left.

The kitchen returned to silence.

Chen Jianghe looked at the bag of salt, then at the bubbling broth in the pot, and a warm feeling welled up in his chest.

He sat back down by the stove and slowly drank the hot soup. A warm current spread from his stomach to his limbs and bones. His fatigue lessened, and his energy seemed to be returning.

Taking advantage of the warmth, he once again set up the "Three-Body Stance" in an open space.