Chapter 13: Turning The Intangible Into Tangible, Force Transformation
“Not bad! The human body has infinite potential. If it can be guided and developed, it can burst forth with the tremendous force to split monuments and crack stones.”
Yang Erhu’s voice was deep and steady, and he sighed again: “Unfortunately, this old man now only has the power for this one strike. In a few more years, I’m afraid even this one strike will be beyond me.”
“Because of age?” Hong Yuan said.
“Yes, plants wither and flourish, rise and decline—that’s the principle. How much more so for humans? This True Force originates from physique and Qi and Blood. When people age, their physical strength degenerates and Qi and Blood decline—how can they stimulate True Force? Even the best methods are useless.” Yang Erhu shook his palm, which was still somewhat numb and stinging, and couldn’t help but smile bitterly.
Immediately after, Yang Erhu glanced sideways at Hong Yuan with his eyes, feeling a bit anxious in his heart.
The Biwu Immortal Realm trip had unearthed Hong Yuan, this exceptionally talented individual, and Yang Erhu had long harbored the thought of taking him as a disciple. Otherwise, why go to the trouble of bringing him back?
Although today was just a spar with his junior brother, there was also the intention of putting on a show and displaying his strength, all to attract Hong Yuan’s interest.
Who would have thought Hong Yuan was just like that jujube wood stake…
Thinking about it made Yang Erhu feel weary. He was already so old, yet still had to fight a strong man like his junior brother—did he have it easy?
“It’s a pity that our sect has such excellent martial arts heritage. This old man has no hope of mastering it in this lifetime, but junior brother still has some chance.”
Yang Erhu sighed.
Yang Lie muttered: “What about me? I want to learn too. If my dad won’t teach me, fine, but why won’t Uncle and Uncle Wu teach me either? Why?”
“Because your aptitude is insufficient, because you’re not diligent enough…” Wu Duxiong sat boldly on the stone steps nearby like a golden sword, glancing faintly: “If you had put in the effort, you would have already Entering Force by now.”
Yang Lie had nothing to say.
He loved practicing martial arts, but he also preferred comfort and ease. He had only three minutes of enthusiasm for anything—perhaps that’s why his father wouldn’t teach him the sect’s kung fu and instead found him another famous teacher.
Hong Yuan pondered briefly, cupped his hands in salute, and said: “Senior Yang, this junior has an unreasonable request…”
Normally, if someone told Hong Yuan about an ‘unreasonable request,’ he would wave his hand to interrupt and tell them not to bother speaking.
So to prevent others from doing the same to him, Hong Yuan spoke first: “This junior wants to take you as my master!”
……
In the ancestral hall of the Yang Family Martial Arts School used for sacrifices.
Hong Yuan held three incense sticks, offered them on the incense table, bowed solemnly to the ancestral master’s memorial tablet, listened to Yang Erhu explain the sect’s rules—roughly not to betray master or ancestors, not to harm fellow disciples, not to secretly transmit the sect’s cultivation methods, and so on. It wasn’t very complicated, and he noted it all down carefully.
“Master!”
“Martial Uncle Wu!”
Hong Yuan wasn’t one for pretentiousness. Modern people were mostly pragmatists, so once he entered the sect, he bowed to Yang Erhu and Wu Duxiong.
There were only three people in this shrine. Even Yang Lie wasn’t qualified to enter—after all, strictly speaking, he wasn’t a Tiger Subduing Sect Disciple.
Yes, Hong Yuan now knew that their sect was called the Tiger Subduing Sect.
The ancestral hall enshrined two memorial tablets: one for the founding ancestor ‘Dragon-Tiger Daoist,’ and one for the grandmaster ‘True Man Li’.
“Good! Very good!”
Yang Erhu patted Hong Yuan’s shoulder, his face unable to hide his joy.
“Congratulations, senior brother, on gaining such an excellent disciple. The Tiger Subduing Sect finally has a successor.” Wu Duxiong’s eyes also showed expectation.
Yang Erhu grinned from ear to ear: “I’ve already had the servants prepare a feast. We’ll have a big lunch to celebrate, and this afternoon I’ll teach you our sect’s martial arts.”
This large martial arts school naturally had several servants. Otherwise, forget preparing meals for a dozen or twenty apprentices and nominal disciples—just cleaning would keep them busy without touching the ground all day.
The feast was just one table for four. As Yang Erhu put it, this was the Tiger Subduing Sect’s own affair—why invite outsiders to disturb it?
The meal was sumptuous: roasted squab, river shrimp, bamboo shoots, medicinal soup, chicken, duck, fish, lamb—all present, and even beef, which the government prohibited from private consumption.
Yang Erhu, Wu Duxiong, and Yang Lie were all martial artists. Hong Yuan hadn’t formally started martial practice yet, but his physique was sturdy and his appetite large. The four ate heartily, mouths oily, all thoroughly satisfied.
But because of the afternoon lesson and martial transmission, each only had a small cup of wine.
After lunch, they left over an hour to digest and rest. When the sun was slightly hot, the four went back to the rear courtyard training ground.
Wu Duxiong glared at Yang Lie and snorted: “What are you doing here?”
“I’m at least half a Tiger Subduing Sect Disciple, right? Can’t I even watch?” Yang Lie said unconvinced.
“Of course you can. Come, come!” Wu Duxiong beckoned and walked over.
Yang Lie sensed malice and wanted to run, but Wu Duxiong had already reached out with a large hand, grabbed his shoulder, and dragged him outside: “You want to practice martial arts? Come with me to the front courtyard—I’ll personally train you.”
“No, Uncle Wu…”
Ignoring the commotion from Wu Duxiong and Yang Lie, Yang Erhu walked to the center of the training ground and spoke leisurely: “Martial artists the world over practice martial arts seeking ‘Entering Force.’ To Enter Force, one needs body strengthening and Blood Nourishment—these you already know, right?”
Hong Yuan nodded.
Yang Erhu said: “Our Tiger Subduing Sect’s body strengthening methods are divided into static and dynamic. Static is stance training, the Tiger Subduing Stance! Watch carefully!”
As he spoke, Yang Erhu stood with feet apart, chest in and back arched, head as if balancing an object, gaze like a torch staring ahead, arms naturally hanging, fingers slightly spread like claws.
After several breaths, his center of gravity sank slowly, spine like a bow, poised to strike—like a fierce tiger crouching on a mountain rock, inhaling and exhaling in a natural, prolonged rhythm.
Seeing this, Hong Yuan immediately faced him and assumed the Tiger Subduing Stance posture.
Yang Erhu didn’t comment on good or bad or correct him, continuing: “The dynamic work is ‘Bedrock Skill’—this is grueling kung fu for tempering muscles and bones and strength. The method isn’t hard, but mastering it is the hardest for many. The initial ‘stretching tendons and pulling bones’ without soothing medicines as aid will leave one miserable after one set. Later comes weighted endurance training, climbing high and jumping far—without enough meat and medicinal food supplements, it’s not even worth dreaming about.”
Yang Erhu sighed inwardly.
He had run the martial arts school for over a decade, teaching batch after batch of apprentices, over 99% of whom he only required to practice stance training and basic fist and foot techniques.
A method like Bedrock Skill for forging muscles and bones required silver at every step—how could ordinary people endure it?
While Yang Erhu lamented, Hong Yuan’s heart sank. His dreams of dashing, fragrant, soft heroines shattered.
With this training method, where were the martial arts novel heroines? Women practicing wouldn’t all turn into muscular women?
Of course, limited by his knowledge, there might be more profound methods.
“Next is the Guiding Technique. The Guiding Technique also divides into external and internal practices. External uses limb movements to guide the whole body, exercising every part…”
As he spoke, Yang Erhu exited the stance and assumed various bizarre postures. Hong Yuan thought it somewhat like yoga practice.
“Use the Guiding Technique to exercise feet, knees, hips, waist, back, shoulders, elbows, wrists, hands… one movement pulls the whole body everywhere.”
“This is the external practice of the Guiding Technique.”
Yang Erhu didn’t stop moving, demonstrating eighteen actions in one go before exhaling and standing steady.
“As for the internal practice of the Guiding Technique, it can be called the first hurdle before Entering Force, and the hardest one—not easier than grasping Qi and Blood, even more time-consuming.”
Yang Erhu looked at Hong Yuan and said, his expression serious.
Hong Yuan also put on a serious expression and listened carefully.
“Everyone has Qi and Blood, existing in every part of the body, but it’s all intangible. You know it exists but can’t see or touch it—so how can you sense Qi and Blood?”
Yang Erhu stared at Hong Yuan and slowly uttered two words: “Imagination!”
“That is, meditation. For example…” Yang Erhu raised his arm, suddenly tensing it with veins bulging. He said: “When looking at your own hand—or any body part… have a firm belief and will in your heart that Qi and Blood flows within, and that this Qi and Blood is something you can touch…”
“Your will is your hand. Use this formless ‘hand’ to push the Qi and Blood. It has no direction? Give it one. No form? Imagine one!”
‘Isn’t this just hypnotizing yourself?’
Hong Yuan thought to himself.
“This step is extremely difficult. Many martial artists, even with the method, practice for decades without grasping it. It requires countless meditations, years of tempering one’s temperament, for even a sliver of success.”
“Once you ‘see’ or ‘touch’ the Qi and Blood, you can try using the Breathing Method to control it, twist it into a strand, turn the intangible into tangible, entering the True Force stage.”
At this point, Yang Erhu suddenly smiled: “Does it feel difficult? Having second thoughts? And after such grueling cultivation to achieve True Force, it might not even be that powerful. With your exceptional talent, great strength, and quick reactions, even fighting you, I might not win!”
Hong Yuan smiled: “Don’t worry, Master. Such minor hurdles won’t scare me!”
Right, Deep Blue, add some!
With a thought from Hong Yuan, he saw several lines of flying mosquito-like small text floating before his eyes, feeling very reassured.
Seeing his determination, Yang Erhu was quite pleased: “Good. Today, first memorize the stance training and Guiding Technique. Tomorrow I’ll teach you the Breathing Method and our Tiger Subduing Sect’s combat technique ‘Tiger Subduing Fist’!”
“Master, what did you mean earlier by ‘Force Transformation’ after Entering Force?” Hong Yuan changed the topic.
Yang Erhu clasped his hands behind his back, paced to the jujube wood stake he had cracked with one palm at noon, and said: “This is about True Force cultivation, roughly three levels.”
“The first level is initial entry into True Force. At this level, though Qi and Blood is grasped, True Force is violent and hard to control. One punch is like opening the floodgates—unstoppable. So often only one strike’s power, after which one’s own Qi and Blood is exhausted. Mild cases recover after half a hour of rest; severe cases collapse unconscious or even injure internal organs.”
Hong Yuan immediately recalled Yang Erhu’s somewhat exhausted performance after one palm, recovering only after two or three breaths.
“With prolonged practice at the first level, you gradually control the ‘gate,’ avoiding full exhaustion in one strike, gaining two, three, even a dozen strikes’ power! Though not as strong as full burst, True Force is violent—killing doesn’t require full power.”
“The second level is Freely Control. As the name implies, at this level, Force is like an arm’s extension. This old man used to barely reach this level, but now can’t maintain it!”
Yang Erhu’s tone was wistful.
“The third level is Microscopic Level. Control of Force is exquisitely precise. Only at this level is one a true Great Master, able to roam the world alone. Jianghu gangs would give face, and noble families, nobles, and great clans would treat such figures as honored guests.”
“Such people are Grandmaster-level, fully capable of founding a sect.”
“They have such prestige because they’ve mastered Force Transformation to an art. Entering Force Martial Artists might face dozens or hundreds of ordinary people… but against armored soldiers, ten or eight can barely hold, double that and they’d flee desperately. Otherwise, even without being surrounded to death, they’d die of exhaustion.”
“But a Microscopic Level Grandmaster Master, even against heavy armored soldiers, kills them as easily as ordinary people. In their hands, after Force Transformation, they can unleash all sorts of inconceivable forces: Spiral Force, Flying Fluff Force, Silk Twining Force, Bone Penetrating Force, Air Transmitting Force…”
Yang Erhu touched the jujube wood stake again and said: “For example, this wooden stake—I can only crack the surface with one palm. But a Grandmaster with Air Transmitting Force can strike without harming the surface, yet turn the inside to fluff. What’s the use of armor against such a person?”
……
