Chinese martial arts: From human punching bags to martial arts mastery

"well--"

A senior apprentice who had been practicing for eight years didn't touch a single grain of brown rice in his bowl. He silently got up, bent down to pack his cloth bag, his knuckles turning white from gripping it so tightly, and his eyes red-rimmed.

He was still practicing standing meditation and roaring as he tried to break through to the next level last night, but he couldn't hold on to his last breath and spat out a mouthful of blood, causing his cultivation level to regress by half a point!

Another slightly younger junior brother put down his bowl and chopsticks, silently squatted on the threshold, and smoked one cheap cigarette after another. The smoke made him cough, but he still refused to stop.

He became a disciple of a strict master at the age of fifteen, and now at twenty-two, he has devoted seven years of his youth to stance training. However, he has failed to cross the threshold of Ming Jin (a type of internal strength) five times!

"Ming Jin... it's truly inhuman to master!"

He murmured to himself, his voice filled with numb despair. It wasn't that he didn't try hard enough, it wasn't that he wasn't diligent enough, it was that he needed talent, natural ability, opportunity, and resources—he couldn't do without any of them.

Another middle-aged senior brother quietly took off his martial arts belt from his waist, folded it neatly, and placed it on the table.

His wife and children depended on him for support. If he continued to waste time, the whole family would starve. After failing to break through this barrier, he completely gave up his martial arts dream and prepared to return to his hometown to do manual labor to make a living.

"Practice until you die, and you'll never even touch the edge of Ming Jin (manifested strength). That's how your life will be!"

He sighed, a sigh as heavy as a stone hitting everyone's heart.

The boxing gym fell silent for a moment.

Everyone understands that in this world, Ming Jin (明劲) is not just a state of being, but also a means of livelihood, a way of life, and the confidence to stand tall in Shanghai.

However, among the hundreds of disciples in the entire martial arts school, only a handful of personally taught disciples have truly entered the realm of Ming Jin.

Most people exhaust themselves, burn out their youth, and eventually leave the stage in despair.

A familiar disciple passed by Chen Feng, patted him on the shoulder, and whispered words of comfort, his tone filled with a sense of shared sorrow: "Chen Feng, your time chopping wood in the kitchen is only temporary. When Master is in a good mood at the end of the year, you will definitely be able to return to the ranks of formal disciples. At that time, mastering the standing meditation will not be difficult at all... Don't end up like us, working hard only to end up with nothing!"

They all assumed that Chen Feng was like them, stuck outside the threshold, struggling desperately, and that he was just a kitchen helper who knew hard qigong, was strong, but had no talent.

Chen Feng held his bowl, watching this scene, his heart filled with complex and indescribable emotions.

He came from a shantytown and was a "street hustler," so he understood the suffering of ordinary people better than anyone else.

Which of these fellow disciples didn't work from dawn till dusk? Which of them didn't train hard in the coldest winter and hottest summer? They chopped wood, practiced stances, punched, and took beatings—they didn't miss a thing. But the path of martial arts is never about risking your life to reach the top.

Effort is helpful, but it's not everything.

Some people are born with strong bones and muscles; some people break through to a higher level when the opportunity comes; some people practice until they are exhausted, but still can't cross that thin barrier.

This is just like the people in the shantytown.

Some people, no matter how hard they try, can only eat moldy rice and bran, trapped by silver dollars for their entire lives; while others, by seizing just one opportunity, can obtain a silver dollar and shatter the ceiling of their destiny.

In this world, the path of martial arts and the path of humanity are originally one and the same!

Not all hard work yields results, and not all perseverance leads to success.

The cruelest thing in the world is not failure, but that you have tried your best, yet you still cannot reach the light.

But if you don't fight, you don't even have the right to fail.

Chen Feng looked down at his palms—hands that had chopped wood countless times, endured countless beatings, faced life and death in the beast cage, and withstood a punch from a late-stage Ming Jin cultivator.

He knew better than anyone that his success today was not due to exceptional talent or a magic formula like "hard work pays off," but rather because he was a lone wolf driven to the brink, with no choice but to move forward!

His father disappeared, his mother was frail, and Ah Qiao was redeemed from her servitude... The shantytown was a place where the strong preyed on the weak, and wolves roamed the streets of Shanghai... He had no way out, so every punch he threw was a desperate attempt to train; every time he practiced standing meditation, he was fighting against fate to save his life!

Watching his fellow disciples walk away dejectedly.

Chen Feng didn't say anything, but silently finished eating the rice in his bowl.

In this world, who doesn't think of themselves as a piece of uncut jade? But years later, when you open your tightly clenched hand, all you find in your palm is a pebble!

in the afternoon.

Yan Tieqiao still assigned Chen Feng to chop firewood.

People around him chuckled and pointed, saying that he could only ever be a woodcutter.

But Chen Feng didn't care at all. He recalled the scene of the bloody battle in the dark alley and knew his master's good intentions - chopping wood was to train strength, power, and mind!

This time, he chopped even more vigorously.

The axe rose and fell, its sharp sound cutting through the air!

Some scoffed, while others gradually noticed something—each of Chen Feng's strikes was executed with perfect coordination of his waist and stance, the force penetrating the axe blade, subtly revealing the true essence of martial arts.

Qian Hu stood at a distance, his brows furrowed slightly, remaining silent with a sinister look in his eyes.

In the evening, after all the fellow disciples had left.

Chen Feng took the Qi and Blood Powder again and applied external ointment to all the meridians and acupoints.

The internal and external medicinal effects collided like oil being poured on a raging fire, causing his blood and qi to boil instantly, even more intensely and fiercely than during the day!

He practiced Tongbei Quan, sometimes fast and sometimes slow.

Under the intense stimulation of the medicine, his fist intent became clear and his experience increased rapidly.

[Introduction to Tongbei Quan (333/500)]

Subsequently, Yan Tieqiao personally intervened to counter Chen Feng's moves, knocking him down time and time again, only to have him rise again and again.

Each impact, enhanced by the medicinal properties, is transformed into experience in hard qigong—[Hard Qigong Minor Success (114/1000)]

While others could cultivate diligently for ten or fifteen days, he could achieve the same results in one day as he did in ten days under the relentless bombardment of Qi and Blood Powder, making his cultivation speed a thousand miles a day!

time flies.

Before we knew it, it was the 28th day of the lunar calendar, the day the battle in the beast cage began.

The sky was just beginning to lighten with the first hint of dawn.

Chen Feng, carrying a heavy bundle, was immediately surrounded by excitement as soon as he stepped into the boxing gym.

The eldest brother was already waiting there. The second, third, fourth, fifth, sixth, and eighth brothers were all present. Everyone surrounded Chen Feng, their faces full of admiration, offering their congratulations and encouragement.

Those who have seen or heard of Chen Feng's bloody battle in the beast cage all praise him highly, their eyes filled with admiration.

Just as the atmosphere was getting lively, Qian Hu walked over with a gloomy face, without saying a word, and huddled in a corner, staring at Chen Feng with resentful eyes, like a venomous snake waiting for a chance to bite.

Just then.

"Knock knock knock—"

Yan Tieqiao walked out slowly, his gaze sweeping across the room, and said in a deep voice, "Chen Feng, come with me to the kitchen!"

"Master! My revered teacher! Ninth Junior Brother—"

The disciples were shocked and rushed forward to try to dissuade him—today was the day of Chen Feng's great battle, and instead of giving him guidance or encouragement, their master was sending him to the kitchen to chop wood? What?

But Yan Tieqiao's eyes flashed with a fierce light, and his imposing aura spread out, instantly silencing everyone who dared not utter another word.

The eldest brother and the others assumed that their master was going to continue punishing him, and they all sighed and looked worried.

Chen Feng remained silent and followed Yan Tieqiao into the backyard kitchen.

Once the door was closed, all gazes and discussions were cut off.

The cramped kitchen, filled with the smells of firewood and medicine, became the place where Chen Feng broke through his cultivation level.

Yan Tieqiao didn't speak, but simply tapped the ground lightly with his cane. That sound, however, struck Chen Feng's heart like a heavy hammer.

He instantly understood—this was the last chance to break through to the next realm before the great battle!

Without hesitation, Chen Feng planted his feet shoulder-width apart, firmly planted himself on the ground, straightened his back like a spear, centered his tailbone, and lifted his head, instantly becoming one with the earth.

First comes breathing.

He cleared his mind of all distractions, and his breathing gradually slowed and deepened. With each inhale and exhale, his chest and abdomen swelled like bellows, unleashing the potent medicinal power accumulated from the internal and external application of Qi and Blood Powder over the past few days!

The bloodlust from fighting in the cage, the tempering from hard qigong, the honing from Tongbei Quan, and the strength from chopping wood thousands of times—all of these were drawn together by the medicinal power, converging into a violent torrent that rushed towards the dantian!

The flow of qi and blood is no longer slow and gentle, but rather like a wild horse galloping and roaring, rushing straight towards the barrier.

His already rapid cultivation speed surged once again at this final moment!

At the beginning.

It was just warm, then it got hotter and hotter, like a line of fire traveling through my limbs and bones.

Shoulders, back, arms, legs—every muscle was trembling slightly, and the heart, liver, spleen, lungs, kidneys…all the internal organs felt comfortable and were awakened at this moment.

"Buzz—"

[Tongbei Quan - Minor Success in Stance Training: 0/1000]

A sudden heat surged in his dantian, as if a fire had been ignited.

The accumulated qi and blood suddenly surged upwards along the Ren and Du meridians, breaking through the Xuan Guan, penetrating Baihui, and then sinking to Yongquan, opening up all the meridians in the body at once!

Chen Feng felt an itch in every bone and crevice of his body. An invisible force exploded from his body, followed by a series of crackling sounds—his bones and muscles resonated, like the roar of a dragon and the howl of a tiger!

That is the most distinctive sign of a Ming Jin martial artist!

The shoulders, neck, spine, waist, hips, elbows, knees, and ankles—nearly a hundred joints throughout the body vibrate slightly at the same time. The sound is not loud, but it is clear and audible, like the continuous popping of beans.

He could clearly feel that beneath his skin and flesh, a powerful force was generated!

It's not brute force, not dead strength, but genuine power that comes from within and moves at will!

Previously, he relied on hard qigong to withstand blows and on Tongbei Quan to generate power, which was just "fighting with his body"; but now, he is fighting with force.

Before he even threw a punch, his body was already radiating a subtle aura, and a tiny crack appeared on the blue brick beneath his feet.

His ears became several times more sensitive than usual, and he could clearly hear the whispers of his fellow students outside the courtyard, the sound of the wind blowing through the woodpile, and even the sound of his own blood flowing.

Their vision sharpened, and they could see even a tiny splinter in the corner of the wall clearly.

The power is surging!

What was originally just a robust body now seemed to contain a fierce tiger awakened within; a single punch could shatter wooden planks and break blue bricks!

Ming Jin!

The true threshold of Ming Jin!

They managed to completely destroy this tiny kitchen in one fell swoop!

Chen Feng slowly exhaled a breath of turbid air, which was as white as mist and as long as a thread, shooting straight three feet away, causing the firewood on the ground to tumble and linger for a long time.

"break!"

Chen Feng slowly opened his eyes, his gaze flashing with a sharp light. Gone was his previous composure and restraint; now, he exuded a sharp, knife-like aura.

With a gentle clench of both fists, one can clearly feel the muscles taut like steel plates, and the power surging within like a fierce tiger.

With every gesture, there was no longer any hesitation, only complete control.

Previously unable to withstand a late-stage Ming Jin attack, he now has the strength to fight back in a head-on confrontation!

"Um--"

Chen Feng trembled all over, and a feeling of exhilaration surged from his bones straight to the top of his head!

Cool!

That's cool!

That was fucking awesome!