Liver in Water Margin, outlaw madman

Shi Yong explained the training method of the Hard Belly Kung Fu in detail, gesturing as he spoke, afraid that Zhang Shan would not understand.

"Externally train your breath, internally train your muscles, bones and skin." Shi Yong patted his stomach, making a loud slapping sound. "The moment you are hit, you suddenly inhale and hold your breath, letting your energy sink to your dantian."

He took a deep breath, and his stomach swelled up, hard as a drum: "Once I hold my breath, my stomach is locked up, taut like an iron plate. When punches and kicks come at me, the force is dispersed, and it doesn't shake my internal organs."

Zhang Shan listened attentively, nodding occasionally.

This skill may sound rough, but there are definitely some tricks to it.

The human stomach is the softest part of the body and is most vulnerable to being hit, but if you hold your breath and tense it up, you can indeed withstand a lot of force.

He had also seen this principle in martial arts books of later generations.

As he listened, thoughts raced through his mind: Was there anything supernatural in this Water Margin world?

After thinking it over, it's highly unlikely.

Otherwise, with Zhao Ji being so incompetent, wouldn't he have already attained immortality?

It would be too unfair if God still protected that kind of person.

Although the world is not very fair to begin with, it can't be that unfair.

Seeing that Zhang Shan genuinely wanted to learn and wasn't just asking on a whim, Shi Yong explained in more detail.

"At the beginning, you need to practice standing meditation, kneading your belly with both hands, and gently patting it, gradually increasing the pressure, once in the morning and once in the evening." Shi Yong stretched out both hands and demonstrated the kneading motion on his belly. "You must not be too forceful when patting; you have to increase the pressure little by little. If you are too strong, you may injure your internal organs. That's not practicing qigong; it's courting death."

As he said this, his expression became more serious, as if he were giving instructions on something important.

When his father taught him this skill, he was unwilling to learn it. It was too troublesome, and even if he mastered it, it wouldn't be of much use.

So what if you can withstand punches and kicks?

If someone comes at you with a knife, you still have to dodge, right?

"During this time, the breathing technique must be closely coordinated. You must inhale and hold your breath without any deviation," Shi Yong emphasized again. "Once you are proficient, you will be able to control the breathing at will. You won't need to consciously think about it; your body will tense up on its own."

Zhang Shan nodded slightly, having already memorized most of the cultivation method for this skill.

He thought for a moment, then asked, "Will it be necessary to beat it with sticks or something afterward? Like hitting the stomach with a wooden stick or something to make the skin, flesh, and bones stronger?"

Upon hearing this, Shi Yong shook his head repeatedly, his expression one of shock: "No, no! If I get hurt, please don't blame me, Chief. I've never heard my father mention using sticks to beat me."

Seeing that he spoke sincerely, Zhang Shan didn't ask any more questions. He smiled, clasped his hands in a fist and said, "Thank you for your guidance, brother."

Zhang Shan held his breath and tried to practice standing meditation and circulating his qi according to Shi Yong's method.

A short while later, he blinked, and the panel appeared before his eyes.

Taizu Changquan (Long Fist of the Great Ancestor), Proficient (40/100)

Marksmanship, Proficient (87/100)

Archery, Proficient (55/100)

Equestrian, Proficient (98/100)

Wrestling, Proficient (3/100)

Hard skills, beginner level (1/100)

Zhang Shan's expression brightened with joy.

This isn't some kind of "hard stomach technique"; it's clearly stated in the system.

Hard skills.

There is indeed hope.

What Shi Yong couldn't master, I might be able to master myself.

Shi Yong can only fight with fists and feet, but I might be able to train to the point where I can fight with knives and guns.

The group continued north, stopping and starting along the way.

Along the way, Wu Song was patient and didn't say much or cause trouble. He just watched Zhang Shan and the others practice their skills, and occasionally his lips would twitch, whether in admiration or indifference was unclear.

The group moved further and further away from Chai Jin's manor and closer and closer to Jizhou.

At noon that day, the sun was blazing, turning the yellow earth on the official road white, and the horses' hooves kicked up clouds of fine dust as they trod upon it.

As the group walked until their throats were parched, they suddenly noticed that the road ahead had changed. The mountains on both sides grew higher and steeper, with jagged rocks and crooked pine and cypress trees that blocked out most of the sunlight.

There was only a narrow road in the middle, winding its way forward.

As Shi Yong rode on his horse, his expression became serious, and his eyes kept scanning the mountain peaks on both sides.

"Be careful, everyone," he said in a low voice, "if I remember correctly, we'll be there soon."

Upon hearing this, everyone became extremely alert.

Zhang Shan also stopped smiling, and Jiao Ting tightened his grip on the reins, his tiger-like eyes scanning left and right.

They were all outlaws, but being an outlaw is not the same for everyone.

Some bandits in certain mountain strongholds follow the rules; they only care about money and won't kill.

Some are ruthless and cruel; they don't care who you are, they'll just chop you up first.

The group continued walking for several more miles, and the mountain terrain became increasingly steep.

Suddenly, the sound of rushing water came from ahead, getting closer and closer.

After turning a corner, the view suddenly opened up before me.

A narrow river valley stretched out before us. The water was shallow but swift, with white waves crashing against the rocks on both banks, creating a fine mist.

The mountain walls on both sides of the valley were covered with green vines and wild grasses, so green they looked almost black.

"We've arrived." Shi Yong reined in his horse and said decisively, "This is Yinmachuan."

No sooner had the words been spoken than a gong sounded beside the mountain path.

when!

Immediately afterwards, a hundred or two people suddenly sprang out from the bushes and behind the rocks on both sides of the road.

Some of these people carried knives, some carried guns, and some carried sticks. Their clothes were all different, but they all moved quickly and skillfully, clearly having made a living this way.

Two burly men stood at the head of the group, one carrying an iron chain and the other a broadsword, blocking the way.

The one in front had a dark complexion and red eyes, which was particularly striking;

The one next to him was burly and had fair skin.

The red-eyed burly man pointed the iron chain forward and shouted gruffly, "Those who know what's good for them, don't move! Where did you come from? Leave your toll, and I'll spare your lives!"

Zhang Shan, riding on his horse, was not surprised but rather pleased. He grinned and couldn't help but laugh.

He was just wondering how to find the people of Yinmachuan when he unexpectedly appeared.

This saves a lot of trouble; we don't have to search all over the mountains or wait for people at the foot of the mountain.

It’s not a waste of time to break through the iron shoes.

The two burly men opposite them were already embarrassed when they saw that this group of people not only didn't seem afraid, but even dared to laugh.

The red-eyed giant took a few steps forward, his eyes wide, and shouted sternly, "Where did this idiot come from? Are you scared out of your wits?"

Du Qian dismounted, straightened his clothes, and calmly stepped forward. He cupped his hands in greeting and politely asked, "May I ask if you two are the heroes Deng Fei and Meng Kang from Yinmachuan?"

It was Deng Fei who stepped forward.

He was surprised and looked Du Qian up and down a few times, then glanced at the men behind him, frowning as he asked, "Who are you? Why do you know us brothers?"

Du Qian smiled and cupped his hands in greeting: "I am Du Qian from Liangshan, and this is our chieftain. We have come here specifically to pay our respects to you both."

Deng Fei's expression changed slightly, and he turned to look at the big man beside him.

That burly man was none other than Meng Kang.

He stepped forward from behind, his gaze sweeping over Zhang Shan and the others, before coldly asking, "I've heard that Liangshan is occupied by Wang Lun, the White-Robed Scholar. That man is a poor, pedantic scholar, and not very agreeable. Are you Wang Lun?"

Meng Kang's words were blunt, and his tone carried a hint of disdain.

He didn't have much affection for scholars, and he disliked Wang Lun even more.

A scholar who rules a mountain and is so stingy, what kind of future can he possibly have?

Du Qian looked somewhat embarrassed and quickly explained, "Liangshan has a new leader now." He stepped aside to let Zhang Shan pass, and pointed...

"This is our chieftain, known in the martial arts world as Little Heavenly Lord Zhang Shan. Also, Instructor Lin Chong currently holds the third-highest position in our Liangshan."

Du Qian spoke these words with practiced ease.

He has now discovered that reporting Lin Chong's name is the most effective, much more so than reporting the chieftain's name.

The moment Lin Chong uttered those two words, everyone opposite him, regardless of their status, would at least pause in surprise.

really.

Deng Fei and Meng Kang's expressions changed simultaneously. They looked at each other, their eyes filled with undisguised shock.

"Lin Chong?" Deng Fei's voice changed. "That instructor of the 800,000 Imperial Guards? The Lin Chong who killed Gao Qiu?"

"Why are there three leaders? Who is the second leader?"

Zhang Shan stepped forward at this moment, without answering directly. His gaze swept from Deng Fei's face to Meng Kang's face, and then back again.

The mountain wind blew across the valley, making his robes flutter loudly.

He stood there, his voice not loud, but clearly reaching everyone's ears:

"This is not the place to talk. Would you two not dare to invite me up the mountain for a seat?"