Chinese martial arts: From being shot and killed by the armed police during a mountain search to bec

The inner room of the Chen family's villa.

Servants came and went, carrying basins of warm water stained with blood and hand-me-downs. The stench of blood mixed with the smell of medicine permeated the courtyard.

Chen Huaijin stood under the eaves, his face somber. Chen Hongwu sat on a stone bench, silent. Chen Hongwen leaned against a pillar, gently fanning himself with a folding fan, his gaze shifting back and forth between his father and elder brother.

A man who looked like a doctor came out from the inner room. He had a white beard and his sleeves were stained with blood. He cupped his hands to Chen Huaijin and said, "Master Chen, the wounded man's external injuries have been treated. We applied a secret wound medicine, and the bleeding has stopped. However, that palm strike injured his internal organs, so he needs to rest."

The doctor took out a prescription from his medicine box: "Decoct this prescription and take it twice a day, morning and evening. Rest quietly for six months to fully recover. During this time, you must not get angry or exert yourself, otherwise you will develop a chronic illness that even a miracle cannot cure."

Chen Huaijin took the prescription, glanced at it, and handed it to the butler beside him: "Go and get the medicine."

The butler took it with both hands and turned to leave.

Chen Huaijin then gave the steward a wink, and the steward understood, taking out a wad of silver dollars from his sleeve and handing it to the doctor: "Sir, you've worked hard; this is your consultation fee."

The doctor took the medicine, weighed it in his hand—it was quite heavy—and smiled, saying, "Mr. Chen, you're too kind. I'll take my leave now and come back for a follow-up appointment in half a month."

"To the gentleman," Chen Huaijin said.

The steward led the doctor out of the separate courtyard.

The courtyard fell silent, leaving only the father and his two sons.

Chen Huaijin turned around and his gaze fell on Chen Hongwu. He looked his eldest son up and down and found that although his clothes were tattered and he was covered in mud, his complexion was much better than before he set off. His eyes were sharp and his temples were more prominent.

"Hongwu, what happened?" Chen Huaijin asked, his voice low. "Didn't you go out with the caravan? How did you end up like this? Where are the goods? Where are the others?"

Chen Hongwu raised his head and said calmly, "We encountered a mountain demon on the way. Only Uncle Liu and I escaped."

Chen Huaijin's expression changed drastically.

Chen Hongwen also stopped folding his folding fan.

"A mandrill?" Chen Huaijin took a deep breath. "That beast again?"

Chen Hongwu said, "It ambushed the camp at night. More than 20 guards were all killed, and the goods were lost."

Chen Huaijin stood there, silent for a long time.

The losses this time were enormous.

The cost of that shipment alone was several thousand silver dollars. More importantly, the escort team—more than twenty well-trained gunmen—was something the Chen family had spent years and a fortune training. Now they're all gone.

The compensation alone amounts to a large sum of money.

And then there are the trade routes. That beast has its eye on the Chen family; how will the caravans travel in the future?

"Father, at least my elder brother and Uncle Liu are back." Chen Hongwen closed his folding fan and comforted them. "It's good that they're back. We can still earn money and goods."

Chen Huaijin glanced at him and sighed, "You're right."

He turned to Chen Hongwu, his tone softening, "This time, it was all thanks to your Uncle Liu who risked his life to protect you; otherwise, you would have perished at the hands of that beast. Hongwu, you must remember your Uncle Liu's kindness."

Chen Hongwu smiled and did not refute.

"Father, I'm going back now." Chen Hongwu stood up. "I'm exhausted from traveling all night."

Chen Huaijin waved his hand: "Go on, get some rest."

Chen Hongwu turned and left the courtyard.

Chen Hongwen frowned as he watched his retreating figure, then turned to Chen Huaijin and said, "Father, isn't my eldest brother being too cold-hearted? Uncle Liu was injured protecting him, and he didn't even bother to go in and check on him?"

Chen Huaijin was silent for a moment, then said, "Don't talk nonsense. Your older brother just escaped from danger, so it's understandable that he's upset. Let him calm down."

Chen Hongwen opened his mouth, as if to say something more, but ultimately kept it closed.

---

The backyard wing room.

Chen Hongwu pushed open the door, and a familiar smell of wood wafted out.

"Someone come here!" he called out.

A maidservant trotted over.

"Prepare bathwater, cold water, and a set of clean clothes," Chen Hongwu said.

The maidservant responded and turned to do so.

Before long, the bathtub was filled with cool, refreshing water. Chen Hongwu took off his tattered clothes, revealing a muscular physique. He had broad shoulders and a taut waist.

He stepped into the bathtub, the cold water reaching his chest, making him feel as if he were encased in ice.

The stimulation of the cold water caused his pores to contract suddenly, and his blood and qi circulated faster, like a blocked river suddenly bursting its banks, with heat flowing throughout his body.

Chen Hongwu closed his eyes and began to regulate his breathing in the water.

Each breath, deep and resonant.

When inhaling, the lower abdomen slightly contracts, and the breath travels upward along the spine. When exhaling, the lower abdomen naturally expands outward, and the breath sinks into the dantian (lower abdomen).

This is called "reverse breathing," a method in Xingyi Quan (a style of Chinese martial arts) for refining essence into qi. Ordinary people breathe by inhaling and exhaling, but those who practice martial arts do the opposite. Reverse breathing helps to retain qi, preventing it from dissipating or leaking.

He soaked in the water for a full fifteen minutes before getting up, drying himself off, and changing into clean clothes.

A pale white short-sleeved shirt, black trousers, and cloth shoes—clean and neat.

"Bring some food," Chen Hongwu called out again.

The maid brought over a table full of food: braised pork, stir-fried seasonal vegetables, a pot of chicken soup, and a large bowl of white rice.

Chen Hongwu sat down and began to eat heartily.

The braised pork melted in his mouth, and the chicken broth was rich and delicious. He ate three bowls of rice in one go and cleaned up all the dishes on the table before putting down his chopsticks.

To refine essence into qi, one must first refine essence.

Essence comes from food, from grains and cereals. Without sufficient nutrition, one's qi and blood cannot be nourished, and one's skills cannot improve.

After finishing his meal, Chen Hongwu sat cross-legged on the bed and began to organize his thoughts from the previous night.

Hidden strength.

He unleashed his hidden power at the critical moment of life and death.

The feeling of that punch landing on the mandrill's chest still lingers on his fist. It wasn't the recoil from hitting a hard object, but rather like being punched into a lump of sticky mud, the force penetrating through his pores.

"Hidden strength is the soft strength in boxing." Chen Hongwu silently recited the words from the boxing manual, "Its form is like a fish in water, its strength like a needle in silk. It penetrates the skin and enters the bone, injuring the internal organs."

Ming Jin (manifest strength) is hard, An Jin (hidden strength) is soft.

Overt force strikes externally, covert force strikes internally. Overt force injures the bones, covert force injures the internal organs.

Hidden strength is the result of the burgeoning of mental energy.

Without a still mind, there is no power. The mind must be moved, the intention must be in place, the energy must flow smoothly, and the power must penetrate; none of these four can be lacking.

However, the consumption of internal energy is too great.

The boxing manual says, "Once the hidden force is unleashed, the mental strength is exhausted. A second strike will cause injury, a third strike will lead to death." After he threw that punch, his lower abdomen felt empty, his legs were weak, and his whole body felt as if it had been drained. If he hadn't immediately practiced standing meditation to cultivate his inner energy, he wouldn't even have had the strength to carry Liu Kun away.

"Hidden strength cannot be used often; it can only be used in critical moments," Chen Hongwu concluded in his heart.

"The next step is to train the fascia."

Overt strength strengthens bones, covert strength strengthens tendons.

Bone strengthening (易骨) hardens the bones, while tendon strengthening (易筋) makes the fascia more resilient. The resilience of the fascia determines the penetrating power of internal force (暗劲). The more resilient the fascia, the more penetrating the internal force.

Chen Hongwu stood up and slowly began practicing his boxing in the side room.

It's not the Five Elements Fist, it's the Twelve Forms.

Dragon-shaped, tiger-shaped, monkey-shaped, horse-shaped, alligator-shaped, chicken-shaped, hawk-shaped, swallow-shaped, snake-shaped, falcon-shaped, eagle-shaped, bear-shaped.

The twelve forms each correspond to a different way of exerting force through the fascia of an animal.

Dragon pose trains the spine, tiger pose trains the waist and hips, snake pose trains the arms...

Chen Hongwu practiced each move slowly and deliberately, not seeking speed, but only aiming to stretch and straighten the fascia.

After three rounds, he stopped punching and exhaled a long breath.

Outside the window, it was already bright daylight.

He hadn't slept all night, but he didn't feel tired. After breaking through his internal energy barrier, his spirit and energy had reached a new level, and he wouldn't feel tired even after three days and three nights without sleep.

Chen Hongwu opened the window, and the cool morning breeze blew in, carrying the fragrance of osmanthus blossoms from the courtyard.

He gazed at the distant horizon, squinting his eyes.

The mandrill is still alive.

It was struck through the heart by a hidden force, but it didn't die. That beast's vitality far surpasses that of ordinary people. Next time I encounter it, a single punch with hidden force probably won't be enough to kill it.

"We need to be stronger," Chen Hongwu muttered to himself.