Uncle's Inspection and the Stamina Sermon
In the Tang Family's secret training garden, Bi Won—a space accessible only to direct descendants—a cheerful voice rang out.
"Well, any guess what that rascal's been up to? The fact he even scored some cheap booze tells me it's not his first rodeo with playing with fire..."
"Quit slacking and focus."
In a stern tone, Hall Leader Hyeong Jeong scolded the interrupter, his mood soured.
"Ah, come on, it's not just anyone—it's your son, brother. Why act like you couldn't care less?"
The fog, infused with the dim lantern light, obscured the family head's expression. In the next instant, Hall Leader Hyeong Jeong stared rigidly at the tip of the family head's finger.
"Th-that thing you're holding... mind putting it down and just talking? Brother? Brother!"
With that, the Tang Family Head released his grip, and the poison toad hopped away in bounds. Only then did Hall Leader Hyeong Jeong catch his breath and wipe the sweat from his neck.
People thought those from the Tang Family feared no poison, but that only held for ordinary ones. When it came to deadly poisons, the Tang Family itself was the most terrified.
For instance, the frog his brother had just been holding had no proper antidote. The Tang Family Head, whose poison and true qi flowed freely, merely reproached his younger brother in a cold tone.
Not just the startled frog, but lumpy-backed toads, iridescent-scaled centipedes, and swarms of unidentified flying insects—all foreign flora and fauna competing freely in this paradise of deadly toxins.
Hall Leader Hyeong Jeong had been summoned here to brew poison liquor, the essence of the Tang Family's poison arts accumulated over centuries, incomparable to spirit medicines bought with money.
The poison techniques for building resistance were essential for growing late-stage disciples, and since the most crucial were the deadly poisons, the family head oversaw their production personally.
"Anyway, keep an eye on that Fifth Young Master."
"Is his talent really that exceptional?"
"He might turn out to be a direct descendant too, you know."
"Hall Leader Hyeong Jeong? What brings you here..."
His burly frame was as unkempt as ever. Among the Sichuan Tang Clan, where martial artists weren't particularly massive, he still stood out.
"What, do I need an appointment to visit my nephew?"
"Hello, Uncle."
"Hey, kid! Oh, and Jihwan, sorry about last time. That Second Young Master dragged in the wrong guy."
"No problem."
I'd only known Hall Leader Hyeong Jeong as an important figure, but he had a jovial side. Forgiving me and giving Dang Chehwan a dressing-down showed he had a sharp sense of judgment.
I didn't remember exactly how trying to save Sohee led to setting the hall ablaze, but starting a fire in Hyeong Jeong Hall had drawn a ton of attention.
Well, going that far would naturally pique an adult's interest. Even if the family head was busy, having your first family observer be an uncle? My father was utterly useless.
But the uncle, whom I'd assumed was just here to check on our class, started chatting with the instructor too.
"Wait, you're Blacksmith Wang's youngest, right?"
Having grown up in Tang Family Village, it wasn't just 'acting' familiar.
Whatever. It might just be the classic Chinese emphasis on personal connections.
"Your name's... Hyeongcheol! I remember hearing you had talent in external arts since you were little... How's your sister?"
"She's teaching kids at the Medical Hall now."
"Oh? Really. Teaching our nephews, no less. All the promising talents are accounted for. Your father Wang passed too soon. He'd be thrilled to see who you're instructing now..."
"No, no. The Fourth and Fifth Young Masters are keeping up well."
He seemed to have hopes for his son's martial prowess.
"If you need anything, just say the word. We're all Tangs—one big family, right?"
"Hall Leader Hyeong Jeong, could you perhaps spar with us once?"
"Spar? If that's what you call a 'request,' what kind of face should I make? Come find me anytime. Lately, everyone's too busy with their duties—no one's left to drink with."
With a hearty laugh, he wrapped up the pleasantries and updates, finally turning to us.
"Alright then, let's see what my nephews can do."
Before we knew it, the instructor had stepped aside, fully in teacher mode.
"You boys aren't dissatisfied with just practicing Tang Family Fist, are you?"
"No, sir!!!"
"Hahaha. I know a lie when I hear one. I felt the same at your age! So, how far along are you?"
The instructor answered.
"The two young masters have learned the fist form sequences and are currently drilling straight punches with horse stance."
Lately, we'd focused on straight punches, but we also practiced footwork-integrated moves. In taekwondo terms, it was like poomsae. Still boring, but better than just punches.
Asking the other kids, our instructor was a straight-punch purist—a punch supremacist, or in other words, a stubborn old-school type obsessed with them.
"Mm, good. Nothing beats Tang Family Fist for focus."
Nodding, Hall Leader Hyeong Jeong singled out my brother.
"Jihwan, tell me why."
"Because the upper and lower body are connected."
"Right! Spot on! Ignorant hotheads think fist or sword work is all about arm strength. It's about dantian power! Overall balance! Humans aren't so different from snakes in that our torso connects everything!"
The explanation dragged on, but it was easy listening. And unlike our instructor, no endless shouting of commands.
Honestly, it didn't click for me, but the instructor and Dang Jihwan were mesmerized, repeating it like a mantra.
"Not so different from snakes..."
Fine by me. I, Dang Yohwan, was optimized for real combat anyway.
"You'll understand bones and tendons when you later autopsy a corpse. But there's an even more vital physical trait that trumps all that. What do you think it is?"
I shot my hand up.
"Eye technique?"
"That's right too! But you can figure out eyeball-rolling on your own!"
Satisfied enough, I lowered my hand. My grain-picking practice had started after peeking at Sohee's answers—I'd drilled it solo since.
"I believe the real foundation is endurance. Stamina is endurance, and endurance makes a great poison hand! Those demonic cult bastards from Heavenly Mountain grow up ragged and have vicious grit for it, don't they? Stamina first! Stamina! How did Yu Gong move the mountain? How did King Shun of old endure that bird mother's scorn to tame the Yellow River? Born with it or trained, it's all stamina! Beggars or nobles—stamina matters to everyone! Get your stamina up, and everything smooths out. Baduk games, imperial exams, pretty wives—even fooling others or lying takes stamina! Mental waver comes from distrusting your own weak body—"
Typical martial fanatic advice, ending on a Tang-style note, but who cared.
"Time to run the back mountain?"
"Yes, we complete it daily."
As the instructor said, before Tang Family Fist practice, we did morning stamina runs up the back mountain to warm up.
Though the real goal was building endurance for future elite ninja training.
"How long for a lap?"
"A bit over one shichen."
"These kids took the easiest route?"
"The next path opens at eight."
"Mm. I see."
Nodding at the instructor's explanation, Hall Leader Hyeong Jeong suddenly asked him to perform a move.
"Hyeongcheol, mind lifting your left foot?"
"My left foot, sir?"
"Left or right, doesn't matter."
'Lift his foot? Why?'
I tilted my head at the inscrutable demand.
"Like this?"
The instructor complied readily.
"Mm, good. Very good."
Hall Leader Hyeong Jeong traced the shadow of the raised foot in midair with his own shoe tip. Then, clapping before us, he declared,
"Alright! While you run your lap, I'll measure how much this shadow stretches with a ruler. Normally, it's a thousand Tang Family Fists per cun! But since it's your first, five hundred."
'The instructor... as a sundial?'
I gaped at the outrageous idea. I'd expected some cool trick, not him punishing the instructor while we ran.
Elders bossing around disciples on whims, and direct descendants all having that personality—what gives?
"What're you doing, Dang Yohwan? Run!"
At Dang Jihwan's urgent nudge, I nodded and hurried after him.
Even sprinting the familiar back mountain path, I was dumbfounded. The wind whistling through the trees felt chillier than usual.
Only upon reaching the hillside did I sense the oddity.
'For someone at the instructor's level, this was normal training.'
That was my honest gut feeling from deep down.