“I understand.” Su Jie grasped it immediately and asked no further questions.
“His destiny now carries immense weight, and he has already developed the bearing of a rooster,” Master Ma remarked to Old Chen. “In ancient times, the rooster symbolized the sun in the heavens—like the mythical Star Official Angri, whose true form was a great rooster. So, Su Jie, remember this: act with the blazing righteousness of the sun, and no evil can touch you.”
Su Jie nodded again.
“Truth be told, physiognomy, feng shui—these are just superficial arts. At their core, they serve to cultivate virtue in people. If one’s virtue cannot match their station, calamity will surely follow,” Master Ma said. “But enough about destiny—no need for cryptic words between those who understand. Old Chen, demonstrate your Tai Chi set for me again.”
Old Chen stood up and began performing the Tai Chi forms, one move after another.
Su Jie watched intently. Old Chen’s Tai Chi was graceful and expansive—movements like “Grasp the Sparrow’s Tail,” “Embrace the Tiger and Return to the Mountain,” and “Green Dragon Emerges from the Water” were vividly alive. Whether they were practical for combat was another matter, but from an aesthetic standpoint, it was pure artistry.
When Old Chen reached “White Crane Spreads Its Wings,” the imagery was so vivid it was as if a crane stood atop a pine tree on a cliff’s edge, poised to take flight. The ambition to soar into the heavens was palpable.
Just this single movement, if mastered with such essence, could undoubtedly prolong one’s life.
Pines and cranes symbolize longevity.
“Stop.”
Master Ma picked up a crystal ball and mirrored the “White Crane Spreads Its Wings” posture.
The crystal ball in his hand seemed to float, carried aloft by the motion.
“This imagery—the ambition to rise—is excellent. Blended with the crystal ball, it can invigorate the spirit,” Master Ma mused as he adjusted his stance.
“Actually, ‘White Crane Spreads Its Wings’ can also be performed with a more relaxed variation,” Old Chen said. “What I demonstrated earlier embodied the aspiration to pierce the heavens. Now, I’ll perform it with a sense of serene elegance and natural harmony.
‘Train the body to move like a crane,
Under a thousand pines, two scrolls of scripture lie.
I came seeking the Dao—no need for words,
Clouds in the sky, water in the vase.'”
He performed the movement again, this time with subtle adjustments.
Immediately, the atmosphere shifted—no longer the fervor of flight, but the tranquility of drifting clouds and flowing water. It was untethered, free, like a recluse in the mountains or an immortal on Penglai Isle, exuding the lofty grace of the Wei-Jin era.
‘This is martial arts as art. To reduce it to mere combat would be vulgar,’ Su Jie thought in awe. ‘When practiced at this level, it truly belongs among the refined arts.’
For high society, boxing, sanda, Muay Thai, and MMA were often seen as crude—shirtless men brawling until bloodied hardly made for dignified entertainment.
The three of them continued their research in the farmhouse’s upper room.
Su Jie remained in the role of an apprentice, yet his insights were often so perceptive that Master Ma and Old Chen found them refreshing.
Su Jie had taken a month’s leave from school to immerse himself in this study.
He sought Old Chen’s guidance on the essence of Tai Chi and Master Ma’s wisdom on psychology, synthesizing it all into his own practice.
Each day, he adhered to his strict routine—rising at 3 a.m., sleeping at 9 p.m., training relentlessly. Beyond that, he practiced with the crystal ball, applying the techniques learned from Master Ma, rolling it across his body using the interplay of muscles, tendons, and bones.
His foundation was already solid, and his flexibility and agility had reached an extraordinary level. The crystal ball seemed to cling to him as if magnetized, darting across his skin like a playful rabbit.
Had he performed this on the streets, crowds would have gathered in awe, tossing coins his way.
With this skill alone, even if he went bankrupt, he’d never starve.
In ancient times, street performers would press a bowl against their stomachs and, through focused exertion, make it glide across their bodies.
But while the bowl relied on air pressure, the crystal ball was far more challenging—its movement depended entirely on the body’s subtle control.
As Su Jie delved deeper into systematic study and practice, his mind cleared of distractions. Gradually, while working with the crystal ball, he entered a state where his entire body felt as soft as water.
He imagined himself as liquid, his skin rippling like waves, effortlessly buoying the crystal ball in a seamless, weightless dance. It was euphoric.
One morning, as he trained in the courtyard with the crystal ball as usual, he realized something profound.
The ball rolled across his skin, and suddenly, he sensed an extreme softness beneath—so supple that it concealed an immense, coiled force.
A phrase flashed in his mind:
“Extreme softness begets strength!”
Hummm!
His muscles flexed, launching the crystal ball into the air.
Then, with a swift Hoe Strike, he slashed and grabbed—crack!—the crystal ball shattered in his palm, yet his hand remained completely unharmed.
“Your Iron Body training has reached mastery,” Master Ma walked over, his face filled with astonishment. “Your resistance to strikes is now astonishing. If you competed in a world-class fighting tournament, you’d have a huge advantage. Of course, if you don’t use the full tearing and gouging power of the Hoe Strike technique, your chances of ranking would drop significantly.”
The true lethality of the Hoe Strike technique lay in its ruthless execution—pouncing, grabbing, gouging, and tearing, ripping out an opponent’s eyes or even their entire face.
If it were just a simple digging motion, it might work against weaker opponents, but against a true master, it would fall short.
The core of this technique was closing the distance and shredding the enemy apart. That was why Iron Body training was so crucial—it allowed one to endure hits and execute the move flawlessly.
Now that Su Jie’s Iron Body training had reached perfection, he was like a human-shaped beast, exuding an aura of terror with every move.
“Modern MMA mostly relies on clinching and ground techniques to decide the winner,” Su Jie pondered. “It’s a shame many of the most lethal techniques are banned. If they were allowed, the tearing power of Hoe Strike would shine. But that’s impossible.”
“It’s been a month, and you’ve made tremendous progress,” Old Chen remarked. “I’ve never seen anyone learn as fast as you.”
“We’ve pretty much perfected the crystal ball techniques this month,” Master Ma patted Su Jie’s shoulder. “Kid, you’ve mastered a skill that’ll feed you anywhere.”
Mastering crystal ball manipulation meant he could even perform street shows.
Zhang Manman had come and gone during the month, busy with her own affairs, while Su Jie focused entirely on training.
“I need to return to school now. I took a month off, and if I don’t rank first in the monthly exam, my homeroom teacher and the school administration will be on my case.” Su Jie had finally filled in the gaps in his knowledge—things he hadn’t learned from Odell.
Under Master Ma’s guidance—a psychology expert—he had gained deep insights into the “Great Corpse State” and various meditation practices, solidifying his foundation.
The physical Iron Body training was almost secondary.
“Thank you both for your guidance. If you ever need anything, just call, and I’ll be there.” Su Jie felt immense gratitude toward Master Ma and Old Chen.
“Don’t mention it. Come visit whenever you have time,” Master Ma waved him off.
The two watched as Su Jie left the courtyard, then exchanged a glance.
“Old Ma, have you figured out this kid’s background?” Old Chen couldn’t help but ask.
“It’s the Typhon Training Camp’s style. If I’m not mistaken, his foundation was laid by the ‘God Maker’ Odell—it’s unique,” Master Ma said. “After observing him closely these past days, I’ve recognized many of Typhon’s distinctive training methods. I’ve actually learned a lot from him.”
“Do you think he’ll actually break through to that ‘Living Dead’ mental state?” Old Chen asked. “Even you haven’t reached that realm. I doubt he’ll achieve it before thirty.”
“Not necessarily,” Master Ma shook his head. “I’ve studied his mindset, morals, and character—he’s pure, with a solid core. Look, after a month here, he never once asked me about feng shui or fortune-telling, only psychology. Most people would try to learn everything. But he knows exactly where he’s going.”
“In this month, he’s absorbed all of my Tai Chi skills,” Old Chen sighed. “If only he were my disciple—someone like him could carry my legacy.”
“His character is beyond reproach. Even if he’s not formally your disciple, he’s as good as one,” Master Ma said before heading back upstairs.
*****
Su Jie returned to school just in time for the third monthly exam.
His classmates were shocked—taking a month off during the critical final year of high school was practically heresy. Yet the teachers had allowed it. They could only sigh in envy: Top students really can do whatever they want.
What was worse (for them) was that Su Jie aced the exam, once again crushing Qian Zheng’s hopes for first place.
Qian Zheng was furious but helpless. He had already heard about Su Jie leaving Starshine Combat Fitness Club a month ago—and defeating Zhou Chun in combat.
In fighting, he knew he stood no chance against Su Jie. Now, even in academics, he was utterly defeated.
Seeing that Su Jie’s grades hadn’t slipped, homeroom teacher Chen Juan didn’t press him about his absence. She had already discussed it with his parents, who seemed perfectly fine with letting him do as he pleased.
Meanwhile, Hua Xing had set up a martial arts gym near Su Jie’s home. Ironically, it was right across from the Hunyuan Tai Chi Martial Arts Hall. Within a month, the place was fully renovated, and Hua Xing had attracted many students—most of them there because of Su Jie.
Everything was moving in a positive direction.
His older sister, Su Muchen, was still buried in research at Haoyu Group, seemingly at a critical stage—she was never around these days.
Yet, despite all this, Su Jie couldn’t shake a lingering sense of unease.