Courtyard House: Starting with handing over the keys, the state helps me abuse birds.

Zhao Weize closed his eyes.

He recalled what his squad leader said on his first day of enlistment: "Being a soldier is about constantly pushing your limits. If you can't beat someone today, try again tomorrow; if you can't beat someone tomorrow, try again the day after. One day, you'll be able to beat them."

But this gap...

This is not something you can catch up to just by practicing.

This is a world of difference.

Footsteps sounded.

Duan Chengyi walked to the center of the field, looking at the people lying on the ground, his face expressionless.

"Get up, everyone."

Nobody moved.

"Get up."

The twelve people struggled to their feet and stood in a row. Their bodies ached, but their posture remained ramrod straight.

Duan Chengyi glanced at them.

"Are you convinced now?"

No one spoke.

"Those who disagree can continue," Duan Chengyi said. "Anyway, Instructor Xie has time."

Still, no one spoke.

Zhao Weize stared at Xie Weihong, still reeling from the shock. He wanted to ask who this person was, how he trained, and whether he could ever reach even a tenth of his level.

But he didn't ask. Military discipline told him not to ask what he shouldn't ask.

Duan Chengyi, however, took the initiative to speak.

"Aren't you all curious about why Instructor Xie is so strong?"

All twelve pairs of eyes turned to look at him.

"Are you thinking, 'Is this even human?'"

Someone chuckled, then quickly suppressed it.

Duan Chengyi also smiled.

"Instructor Xie is human, of course," he said, "but what he practices is different from what you all do."

Different?

Zhao Weize was stunned for a moment.

"You're training physical fitness, skills, and tactics," Duan Chengyi continued. "What Instructor Xie trains is called—"

He paused, as if adding weight to the word.

"Cultivation."

Cultivation?

Zhao Weize frowned. He'd heard the term before—in those old-fashioned martial arts novels, in the mouths of storytellers. But that was fake; it was made up to deceive people.

But this young man in front of me...

Duan Chengyi looked at the expressions on their faces and nodded: "I know what you're thinking. Cultivation? Isn't that superstition? Isn't that a remnant of feudalism? If you think that way, it's normal. Because just a few days ago, if I had heard that word, I would have thought the person who said it was a fraud."

He walked up to Zhao Weize and looked him into the eyes.

"But you just experienced it firsthand. Twelve people, the cream of the crop selected from the entire army, gave it their all, and couldn't even get Instructor Xie to break a sweat. Do you think this is something that can be achieved through normal training?"

Zhao Weize remained silent.

No, that's not it.

He had trained for five years and seen countless talented people, but he had never seen anyone like this. This was no longer just "good at fighting"; it was on another level.

"What Instructor Xie is practicing is true cultivation," Duan Chengyi's voice echoed across the training ground. "He reached this level in less than six months. And you..."

He pointed to the twelve of them.

"If you are willing to learn, if you are willing to endure hardship, and if you can pass Instructor Xie's test, you can become just as strong as him."

The playground was extremely quiet.

Zhao Weize felt his heart skip a beat.

To become as strong as him?

is it possible?

He looked at Xie Weihong. The young man was still standing there, his face expressionless, simply watching them.

"Instructor Xie is here today to teach you," Duan Chengyi said, "but there's a condition—you have to respect him. That fight just now was to make you respect him. Now, is anyone still not respectful?"

No one speaks.

You're not convinced? What's wrong with you? Being beaten like this and still saying you're not convinced? That's just being stubborn and shameless.

"Very good." Duan Chengyi nodded. "Then let's begin now."

He looked at Xie Weihong.

Xie Weihong took a step forward and stood at the front of the line.

"The first step in cultivation is called Qi Induction," he said calmly. "Before Qi Induction, you must first learn how to breathe."

breathe?

Zhao Weize almost thought he had misheard. Which of these soldiers couldn't breathe? They would have suffocated long ago if they didn't breathe.

But Xie Weihong's next words made him swallow his doubts.

"Normally, you breathe using your lungs. But in cultivation, you breathe using your whole body," Xie Weihong said. "The breath enters through the mouth and nose, sinks into the dantian, and then circulates throughout the body along the meridians. This process requires specific mantras and mental focus."

He paused.

"Now I'll teach you a mantra. Memorize it first. After you've memorized it, sit cross-legged and adjust your breathing according to the mantra. If you can feel warmth in your lower abdomen, you've entered the first stage."

Zhao Weize pricked up his ears.

Xie Weihong began reciting the incantation. It wasn't long, only a few dozen words, and she recited it three times.

Zhao Weize silently repeated it to himself several times and memorized it.

Then he sat cross-legged and closed his eyes.

The people around them also sat down.

As the sun began to set, twelve people sat cross-legged in a row on the playground, like twelve sculptures.

Xie Weihong stood there, watching them.

Duan Chengyi walked up to him and lowered his voice: "How many of you do you think can even get started?"

Xie Weihong didn't say anything, she just looked at those people.

He didn't speak for a long time.

"Anything is fine."

Duan Chengyi was taken aback: "Anything is fine?"

"A good foundation and a righteous character," Xie Weihong said. "People like this can achieve twice the results with half the effort in their spiritual practice."

Duan Chengyi nodded and said nothing more.

On the playground, twelve people closed their eyes and adjusted their breathing according to the formula they had just learned.

Zhao Weize initially found this absurd. Sitting on the concrete floor and chanting a few nonsensical words could make you stronger? If that worked, then soldiers all over the world wouldn't need training; they could just sit and chant scriptures.

But he didn't stop.

Soldiers obey orders. If the instructor tells them to practice, they practice.

He focused his attention on his breathing, following the instructions: when inhaling, imagine the airflow sinking into his lower abdomen; when exhaling, imagine the airflow dispersing out of his limbs and bones.

One, two, three...

After some time, he suddenly felt a warm sensation in his lower abdomen.

It was very faint, like a small flame that had just begun to flicker.

He was stunned for a moment, almost opening his eyes.

But he didn't.

He continued to breathe, continued to imagine the flame.

The flames grew clearer and hotter.

It's not a hallucination.

it is true.

A feeling that was hard to describe welled up in Zhao Weize's heart.

Shock and awe.