Body command feeding world

As the last haze of night faded, the playground of Yuying Middle School was awakened by the first crisp sound of a foot landing.

Ten minutes earlier than usual, Lin Ye was already standing in the open space of the abandoned equipment room, leaning against the familiar training wooden gun beside him, its barrel gleaming warmly in the morning light. Wang Dahai rubbed his sleepy eyes, huffing and puffing as he moved two old dumbbells over and placed them on the ground with a dull thud.

"Brother Ye, aren't you going to rest for a bit today? My arms are still sore..." Wang Dahai shook his arms, his face full of "wanting to stay in bed," but he didn't move an inch and stood obediently next to Lin Ye.

Lin Ye flexed his wrists, the black wristbands fitting snugly against his skin, carrying the reassuring warmth Ye Hong had given him. He gently shook his head, his eyes filled with a determination brighter than the morning light: "The coach said yesterday that my strength can't withstand a three-hit combo. Without a solid foundation, no matter how beautiful my marksmanship is, it's just a show."

He raised his hand and grasped the wooden gun. The familiar, solid feel of it sent a jolt through his palm, instantly awakening his latent instincts for gunmanship. He straightened his stance, gripped the gun, and focused his mind—all in one fluid motion.

"Train your physical fitness first, then practice your shooting."

As soon as he finished speaking, Lin Ye took the lead and bent down, performing a perfect push-up. His back was straight as a gun barrel, and each rise and fall was steady and powerful, without the slightest sway. Wang Dahai gritted his teeth and followed suit. At first, he could keep up with the rhythm, but after less than ten, he started to sway, his face turning red.

Lin Ye didn't rush him. He simply followed the training schedule Bai Xiaoyu had given him, doing twenty reps per set for three sets. When he stood up, beads of sweat appeared on his forehead, and his arm muscles were slightly tense, yet they exuded an increasingly solid sense of strength. Next came squats, lunges, and planks, each one done to the extreme. The strength of his waist, abdomen, legs, and core was slowly awakened and honed through repeated practice.

The aching pain in his muscles and bones was clearly felt, but Lin Ye felt exceptionally at ease.

He finally understood that the spear-wielding consciousness within him could teach him techniques and guide his power, but it couldn't build strong bones and muscles for him. Spear intent permeates the bones and blood, but if the bones and blood aren't strong enough, the spear intent has nowhere to attach itself. Only by training his body to be as hard as iron and steel could he truly give the spear in his hand the sharpness to pierce the air.

After finishing a set of physical training exercises, Wang Dahai slumped onto the wooden crate, panting heavily, but still grinning, "Brother Ye, I feel... I think I really do have some strength now! I used to get tired climbing three flights of stairs, but now I can actually finish a whole set with you!"

Lin Ye handed him a bottle of water, a faint smile playing on his lips: "Keep going, and you'll become stronger."

After resting for a moment, Lin Ye gripped the wooden gun tightly. The morning breeze ruffled the stray hairs on his forehead, and his eyes suddenly sharpened.

"Thrust!"

With a soft shout, the wooden spear thrust forward, the sound of it cutting through the air crisper than yesterday, the force heavier, the tip perfectly steady without the slightest deviation. The arm that had felt slightly sore yesterday, after being honed, could now steadily withstand continuous force. Chopping, sweeping, striking, circling, pointing, and flicking—the six basic techniques flowed together with ever-smoothness. The wooden spear in his hands moved like a nimble snake emerging from its hole, leaving swift, black shadows in the morning mist.

Without pausing, he immediately began practicing the advanced three-step combo his coach had taught him the day before—thrusting the spear, then sweeping it, and finally turning to smash it.

Yesterday, these three moves would have been slightly sluggish by the second move due to insufficient strength. But today, my muscles and bones were full of the resilience from the physical training. My waist and abdomen were more stable, and my legs were more firmly planted. The three moves were executed in one go, and the spear shadows were impenetrable. My aura was much stronger than yesterday.

Wang Dahai was stunned, forgetting to catch his breath, his eyes fixed on the figure dancing in the morning light, his mouth only able to utter "Wow" repeatedly.

After practicing for an unknown amount of time, soft footsteps came from the door of the equipment room.

Ye Hong stood quietly, holding a sketchbook, her skirt fluttering gently in the morning breeze. She didn't speak, but found a clean step to sit on, opened the sketchbook, picked up a pencil, and carefully sketched the boy holding a gun in the center of the field, stroke by stroke.

She arrived very early and had been watching Lin Ye since he started training his physical fitness.

Watching his sweat drip, his focused gaze, the sharpness of his swing of the wooden gun, and the composure with which he finished, the pencil glided smoothly across the paper, capturing the boy's image holding the gun, his upright posture, and his shining eyes, all rendered on the canvas. The lines were gentle, yet they couldn't hide the joy and admiration in my heart.

Lin Ye noticed the gaze, turned his head, and met Ye Hong's smiling eyes, nodding slightly in acknowledgment. Ye Hong's cheeks flushed slightly, and she lowered her head, the lines under her pen softening even more.

As the morning mist dissipated and the sky brightened, the two packed their things and headed to the classroom.

Ye Hong handed the sketch she had just finished to Lin Ye. The boy in the drawing stood holding a gun, the morning light falling on the tip of the gun, as if his body was wrapped in a faint light. "It's not finished yet. I'll add the details tonight," she said softly.

Lin Ye took the picture book, his fingertips gently tracing the pages, a warm feeling welling up inside him: "It's very beautiful, thank you."

Throughout the day's classes, Lin Ye listened with exceptional focus. During breaks, he would take out the physical training schedule Bai Xiaoyu had given him and quietly adjust his plan, combining martial arts club training with his morning exercises in a clear and methodical manner. As Bai Xiaoyu passed by, he glanced at Lin Ye's notes and nodded slightly: "You can add a set of crunches to your core training; it will greatly help your weight transfer in spear techniques."

Lin Ye immediately wrote it down and thanked him sincerely.

The classmates gradually learned that Lin Ye, who used to love playing basketball, had now become obsessed with shooting, and was extremely good at it. No one mentioned the prop gun that had been broken before anymore; all that remained was admiration—a young man whose passion had been destroyed, yet who could rise again and become stronger with each practice, was truly radiant.

When school finally ended in the afternoon, Lin Ye rushed to the martial arts club behind the gymnasium almost immediately.

As soon as he entered, Zhang Cheng, the martial arts club coach, waved to him with a smile, his delight barely concealed. Zhang Cheng was a retired martial arts coach, highly skilled and with an exceptional eye for talent. He had seen countless teenagers practicing with spears, but he had never encountered a prodigy like Lin Ye.

"Lin Ye, you've come at the right time. Today I'll teach you the basic stance training for spearmanship, and then give you an extra set of strength training." Zhang Cheng patted his shoulder, his tone full of the implication of giving him special attention. "I watched your training video this morning, and you've improved so fast that ordinary basic training can no longer keep up with you."

Lin Ye was slightly taken aback, only then realizing that Coach Zhang had been watching from a distance during the morning shooting practice.

He immediately bowed and said, "Thank you, coach."

Zhang Cheng nodded and personally demonstrated the stance: "Practice spearmanship by first practicing stance training. A stable stance ensures a stable spear, and a firm stance ensures a firm spear. This Three-Body Stance can train your center of gravity, waist strength, and leg strength. It is the foundation of all long weapons. Watch carefully."

The coach's movements were slow, and he explained every detail thoroughly. Lin Ye watched intently, and his inner awareness of gun techniques immediately responded. Before the coach finished speaking, he had already naturally stood still, his Three-Body Stance perfectly executed, his center of gravity sinking into his dantian, and his breath steady, exactly as the coach had demonstrated.

Zhang Cheng's eyes suddenly lit up, and he clapped his hands in admiration: "That's it! He grasped it instantly, a natural-born marksman!"

The martial arts club members present were stunned. They had practiced the Three-Body Stance for half a month before they could stand it firmly, but Lin Ye could do it after just one look.

Lin Ye stood firmly in the stance, feeling all the power in his body concentrated in one place. His muscles and bones ached, but he felt exceptionally clear and open. The sluggishness he felt when exerting force earlier dissipated considerably during the stance. He finally understood what his coach meant by "foundation."

In the following training, Zhang Cheng imparted all his knowledge, patiently guiding Lin Ye step by step, from stance training to power coordination, from the generation of force in techniques to the control of spear intent. Lin Ye learned extremely quickly; he could grasp what the coach explained after one explanation, perfectly replicate it after one demonstration, and even fine-tune the posture to suit his own physical condition.

The wooden gun became increasingly obedient and sharper in his hands.

When thrusting, the spear tip aimed straight at a single point, steady, accurate, and ruthless; when sweeping, the spear shadow swept across a wide area, powerful, swift, and heavy; when striking, the spear tip suddenly sprang up, fast, agile, and sharp. In just one hour, Lin Ye's spear skills had reached a new level.

During training breaks, Lin Ye didn't stop, continuing to train his physical fitness according to the adjusted plan. He did push-ups, crunches, and squats, pushing himself to exhaustion in every set. Sweat soaked through his clothes, clinging to his back, but his eyes remained bright.

Wang Dahai stayed by her side, gritting his teeth and enduring the pain. Ye Hong remained seated on the steps, turning the pages of her sketchbook one by one. The sketchbook was filled with different scenes of the boy practicing shooting—his steady stance, his sharp swings, his casual wiping of sweat, and his gentle smile. She carefully collected each one, intending to compile them into a complete sketchbook.

Zhang Cheng watched Lin Ye train and became more and more satisfied. He walked to his side and said solemnly, "Lin Ye, there's a middle school martial arts exchange competition next month, including a long weapon event. I'd like you to represent the school. With your talent, as long as you train hard, winning a prize is definitely not a problem."

Lin Ye's grip on the wooden gun tightened slightly.

To participate?

He had never thought that far ahead; he simply wanted to hone his marksmanship and refine himself. But upon hearing the coach's words, a surge of passion suddenly ignited within him—to take to the field with a gun, to let more people see his marksmanship, and to let this passion etched into his very bones shine with true brilliance.

He looked up at Zhang Cheng, his eyes firm, and said, word by word, "I will train hard and live up to the coach's expectations."

Zhang Cheng laughed heartily and patted him on the shoulder: "Good! You've got guts! Starting tomorrow, I'll give you extra training, and we'll aim for the championship!"

As the sun dipped low in the west once more, its golden rays bathed the training ground, casting a dazzling glow upon the boy's figure holding a gun. The wooden gun sliced ​​through the sunset with a crisp, powerful sound, each move and stance revealing an increasingly solid physical strength and a sharper, more piercing intent.

Training ended as dusk settled in.

Lin Ye carried a wooden gun, Wang Dahai carried their water cups, and Ye Hong held a thick sketchbook. The three of them walked side by side on the campus path. The evening breeze was gentle, carrying the passion, love and companionship of the young people.

Ye Hong gently opened the sketchbook and pointed to a page: "Lin Ye, this is a drawing of you standing in a stance. Next time, I want to draw a close-up of you swinging your gun."

"Okay." Lin Ye nodded.

Wang Dahai leaned in and shouted, "Draw one for me too! I helped Ye Ge train his physical fitness, so I'm a hero!"

The three laughed heartily, their shadows stretched long by the streetlights.

Lin Ye looked down at the wooden spear in his hand, feeling his muscles and bones gradually strengthening and his spear intent becoming clearer. A genuine smile appeared on his lips.

Physical fitness is being honed, muscles and bones are becoming stronger, marksmanship is improving, and close friends are by your side.

His shooting career is no longer just about his own perseverance, but also about the guidance of his coach, the companionship of his friends, and the support of his passion.

A young man wields a gun, his muscles and bones forging a sharp edge;