After browsing through these commercial ads, Su Jie started watching some instructional videos on the Minglun Martial Arts Academy website. The academy’s website featured some videos with profound content, including training videos from national champions who graduated from Minglun Martial Arts Academy, along with little secrets and tips.
These materials were quite valuable.
However, they required a fee.
“Even during training, there’s attention paid to how you drink water—what temperature it should be, what minerals to add, how much you sweat on the body’s surface, and the internal body temperature at which you should drink, as well as what temperature the water should be to ensure the best balance.” Su Jie paid to watch some videos, and ended up gaining many insights.
Some of the national champions’ training regimens were so detailed that every movement was refined.
“My current strength is roughly at the level of a provincial-level professional team member? But my training methods and mental toughness are a bit better than theirs, and my physical fitness even exceeds theirs. However, technically, because I’ve had fewer real fights, there’s a significant gap.” Su Jie was well aware of his own strength: “After all, even a national-level combat sports athlete wouldn’t be able to endure that kind of electrical stimulation training used for special agents. They probably wouldn’t afford the internal-strength wine or the secret oil paste, let alone receive direct instruction from Coach Odell.”
“I need to develop my own training method that ensures I’m always practicing my skills without neglecting other important things. Some old boxing manuals mention that every action—walking, sitting, lying down—is a form of training. There’s no moment when you aren’t practicing; everything is integrated into it. With a harmonious spirit and form, a person’s state of mind transcends the ordinary. I haven’t reached that level yet. However, Uncle Mang said that my state of being is already at the near-death, yet not dead level, but still far from the state of the living dead. How exactly should I cultivate my mental state to reach that level? Wang Chongyang is known as the living dead; I can take a closer look at his writings—maybe I can find some inspiration.”
Uncle Mang suggested that Su Jie take some time to study the writings of Wang Chongyang and Zhang Sanfeng.
In most people’s minds, both Wang Chongyang and Zhang Sanfeng are figures born from various novels and films, with appearances that are completely different from the historical figures.
Historically, these two were famous Taoist figures whose mental training had reached very high levels.
Actually, Su Jie believed that practices like meditation and internal alchemy, when explained by scientific theories, are just forms of mental training. A person’s mental strength greatly influences their physical condition.
When Su Jie was being massaged by Uncle Mang every day, one remark from Uncle Mang left a deep impression: if someone’s mental state reached the realm of “no self, no person, no living being, no mortal,” then their physical condition would undergo tremendous changes.
What exactly those changes would be, Uncle Mang said he didn’t know, because he hadn’t seen anyone reach that state yet.
Odell searched everywhere, also looking for such a person.
“Training physical fitness requires a lot of equipment, nutritional supplements, and various considerations. With my current resources, I can’t even match the training conditions of national-level athletes, let alone world-class athletes. But I can engage in all sorts of mental training. In terms of physical training conditions, I definitely can’t compete with Feng Hengyi, but mental training can narrow the gap…” Su Jie gradually found the direction for his next training phase.
At that moment, the door opened again.
It was a middle-aged man with a burly build, dressed in a security guard’s uniform—it was Su Jie’s dad, Su Shilin.
After he came in and saw Su Jie sitting on the sofa watching his phone, he paused for a moment before recognizing his son. “Where did you go during the two-month summer break? Not a single phone call. You’ve changed so much I almost didn’t recognize you. I have to cook for your mom now, so I don’t have time to talk much—explain everything to me properly tonight. Mr. Li from your school called me several times about you attending extra classes. With the college entrance exam coming up next year, if you continue wasting time out here and fail to get into a good school, wait and see how I handle you.”
After that string of words, Su Shilin grabbed the bags of groceries he’d just bought and headed to the kitchen. Within half an hour, an enticing aroma wafted from the kitchen.
There were four people in Su Jie’s family: his dad, his mom, himself, and his sister Su Muchen.
In most families, the mom does the cooking, but ever since Su Jie could remember, his dad has done the cooking, mopping, and cleaning—he handled all the household chores. His mom never did anything. After meals, she would just toss her chopsticks aside, either watch TV, scroll on her phone, read a book, or exercise—completely treating his dad as a servant.
Yet, Su Jie’s dad, Su Shilin, did it all with enthusiasm and without complaint.
Moreover, his dad’s cooking was delicious, and he was very skilled, while his mom’s cooking was terrible—she even burned the rice and porridge. It seemed she had been spoiled from a young age like a pampered princess.
Oddly enough, Su Jie had never heard about his grandparents on his mother’s side, nor about his paternal grandparents.
Ever since he could remember, it had just been the four of them.
He didn’t even have a single relative.
After spending over an hour in the kitchen, Dad—Su Shilin—finally emerged. He was holding an insulated container filled with various dishes, rice, and soup. “Go, take this to Mom. There’s an event at her university today, so she can’t eat at home. She isn’t used to the university cafeteria food, so hurry up and deliver it before the food gets cold. There are some leftovers in the kitchen for you to eat later. The company has a security training session tonight, so I’ll be back a bit later.”
As he spoke, he hurriedly left.
“Hmm?” Just as Dad was leaving, Su Jie noticed a small detail. At the threshold, before the door opened, as soon as Su Shilin paused his step, his ears twitched a few times—seemingly listening to the sounds outside. Only after confirming there was no danger did he step out and quickly shut the door behind him.
This action had been honed to perfection; ordinary people wouldn’t even notice a detail that lasts less than a second. In the past, Su Jie never would have thought so much about it. But after Odell’s training, he found himself unconsciously paying attention to the smallest details in everyday life.
When leaving the house, he had been fully focused—listening carefully to the sounds outside before opening the door. Odell had once given Su Jie a bit of training, teaching him minor techniques for being ready for combat and for preventing surprise attacks in complex environments. Don’t be fooled by the unassuming nature of these techniques; they can often be lifesaving.
‘Dad isn’t just an ordinary security guard. He seems to have that special agent vibe. Ordinary security guards wouldn’t pay attention to such details,’ Su Jie thought, closing his eyes and recalling how his dad had moved when he slipped out the door. His movements were subtle yet meaningful—so natural, like water flowing over stone, light and effortless. ‘Could it be that Dad is a master?’
Su Shilin was the captain of the company’s security team, managing many guards, and Su Jie knew he was skilled in joint locks and combat. Originally, before Su Jie went to the martial arts school, he had casually mentioned wanting to learn combat. But Dad had harshly scolded him—almost slapping him—and told him not to learn such brawling skills, insisting he focus on his studies instead.
So Su Jie had no choice but to secretly attend Minglun Martial Arts Academy on his own. Now, his perspective was completely different from what it had been two months ago; he could almost tell who was a master and who wasn’t.
With questions swirling in his mind, he grabbed the insulated container and headed out to catch the subway to the university where Mom was.
The container was large and packed with many dishes, each prepared exquisitely. In truth, Mom couldn’t possibly eat all that, but Dad always found creative ways to make something delicious.
“I feel like a delivery guy,” Su Jie mused as he carried the container on the subway. Even though the train shook violently, he remained as steady as a post, his stance remarkably solid.
Then he suddenly realized—this was also a form of training. In combat, the worst thing is when an opponent’s impact causes you to lose your balance, rendering your strikes ineffective. That’s why you first practice stances—to build balance and stability, keeping calm so you can seize the opportunity to take down your enemy.
Su Jie excelled at this. When Odell trained him, they practiced various strikes and impacts every day; no matter the situation, his stance never wavered.
“A man can die, his life can be lost, but his stance must never falter.” Even on the swaying subway, Su Jie’s mind was occupied with thoughts of martial arts. He recalled Odell’s words: “It’s like your Chinese spirit of valor. Standing firm in your stance is about exuding an unyielding spirit. Here, no matter what posture you take, it’s like a mountain, a towering fortress—indestructible. Even if natural disasters shatter you to pieces, your soul remains. If you can grasp that feeling, your martial arts will surely improve.”
Just as he was pondering this, the subway arrived at his stop. Su Jie stepped out, carrying the container, and walked straight toward the university.
Suddenly, he noticed a military unit stationed at the entrance of a military district building. Several soldiers were standing guard beneath the national flag, their posture upright like bayonets pointed at the sky—motionless as if they were sculptures, indifferent to the sweat streaming down their bodies. Su Jie had no doubt: even if faced with an avalanche, tsunami, or the end of the world, these soldiers would not budge—they were steadfast in guarding the flag.
“That’s the spirit!” In that moment, Su Jie felt a stirring in his heart. These soldiers might not be as physically strong as him or as skilled in combat, but the spirit they embodied far surpassed his own.
He absorbed that spirit deeply; his body straightened as if his very bones were lengthened. This wasn’t just a superficial adjustment—it was a sudden infusion of a noble quality that transformed his soul.
“In everyday life, you can always sense the presence of martial arts.” Su Jie was filled with excitement and joy, almost wanting to let out a long shout. But he suppressed the thrill, converting it into a calm emotion—a subtle joy that made him feel serene.
He briskly walked to the school gate, watching university students coming and going, radiating youthful energy. It was the start of the semester, with freshmen enrolling early and beginning their military training, their shouts echoing like thunder.
“Is this the life I’ll have a year from now? Do I really like this kind of life?” Su Jie paused to reflect.
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