Foundation Arts (2)
The Balanced Heaven Qi Accumulation Art.
It was the very first martial study that every newcomer to the Zhongnan Sect encountered upon entry. Every martial artist of Zhongnan passed through it at least once. There was even a saying that if you had not learned the Balanced Heaven Qi Accumulation Art, you had not truly learned Zhongnan martial arts.
So what kind of art was it, exactly?
It was a dynamic art that encompassed both internal and external cultivation. It forged a vessel called the dantian within the body so that one could accumulate internal energy, while physical training reshaped the body into a vessel suited to wielding martial power. One could even recover internal energy simply by moving. Its efficiency at accumulating qi scraped the bottom of the barrel, true—but even accounting for that flaw, the Balanced Heaven Qi Accumulation Art remained an outstanding foundation technique.
“I will teach you the formulas of the Balanced Heaven Qi Accumulation Art first.”
Instructor Inwol drew a slim volume from his robes and handed it to Cheonhwa. The cover bore the art’s name.
“I am lending you the secret manual. Memorize it while following the formulas I recite.”
The formulas of the Balanced Heaven Qi Accumulation Art spilled from Inwol’s lips. Cheonhwa read the manual and memorized every line with fierce concentration.
“…That is the formula for the First Stage. Have you memorized it all?”
Cheonhwa shook his head. Of course he had not. Memorizing an entire formula after a single hearing was impossible unless one’s comprehension was extraordinary.
“You need not memorize everything at once. The first half of the First Stage formula will be enough for now.”
“Understood, Instructor Inwol.”
Inwol recited the formulas again and again. Within a single gak, Cheonhwa had the first half of the First Stage firmly in his mind—thanks to the relentless memorization drills of his earlier studies.
“Now I will teach you how to awaken qi sense. First, sit in the lotus position.”
Cheonhwa settled onto the blue-steel stone floor as instructed.
“Close your eyes and focus on abdominal breathing.”
Eyes shut, Cheonhwa poured every thread of awareness into his lower abdomen. A deep inhale swelled his belly; a deep exhale let it fall. As he sank gradually into the rhythm of breath, his mind began to settle.
“While holding the meditation, repeat the first half of the First Stage formula in your mind.”
Cheonhwa obeyed, cycling the formula again and again. Meditation paired with the recitation of a martial formula was enough, on its own, to open qi sense. Such was the nature of a foundation art specialized for entry into martial cultivation.
Even so, awakening qi sense demanded long days. It was an entirely new sense, wholly separate from the five senses one was born with. By the time individual training ended that day, Cheonhwa still had not opened it.
“That is enough for today.”
“Thank you for your guidance.”
“Foundation arts take time. Do not be disappointed.”
“I am not disappointed.”
The words were sincere. Jinhyun had already prepared him for this; Cheonhwa accepted the delay as natural. The instructor, however, seemed to read something else in the boy’s calm, and offered a tip that would help with the foundation work.
“Chew over the martial formulas and seek their meaning. There is a difference between merely memorizing lines of text and truly understanding what they contain.”
“Thank you for teaching me.”
Cheonhwa bowed his gratitude and left the training ground for breakfast. Inwol watched the boy’s retreating back and fell into thought.
It must feel hopeless in many ways. Opening qi sense is nothing like physical training or book learning.
Physical training and scholarship offered checkpoints of progress along the way. Meditation for qi sense did not. One had to keep meditating until results appeared, with no promise of when. One could take it slowly—but that only delayed the day of achievement.
That is why people compare opening qi sense to watching a stone tower rise through muddy water.
Pile stones in deep, muddy water and you will never see them clearly. There is only one way to confirm the tower’s existence: stack so many stones that the structure finally breaks the surface.
Unless one is born with talent, the only path is relentless effort.
Outstanding talent meant the water was shallow, or the stones large and flat. An ordinary person had to pile countless small stones into water of ordinary depth. The greater the talent, the less effort needed for swift results—that was the gulf of natural gift.
Still, I need not worry about that boy.
This was the same youth who had spent six months seizing every spare moment to memorize characters for his studies. He would ignore the gap in talent and simply keep walking. That boy would quietly stack stones until the tower rose above the mud.
And Inwol’s expectation became reality before long.
Once Cheonhwa began learning martial arts, his daily routine changed. In place of book study he now practiced meditation to awaken qi sense. He was first onto the training ground each morning, and he continued meditating under moonlight until the moment he slept. In every spare interval between duties he read the Balanced Heaven Qi Accumulation Art manual kept in the Jangseogak.
Time flowed on.
Frosty autumn faded and winter began to settle in. Meditation grew familiar. He succeeded in memorizing every formula of the First Stage. More time passed. Thin flurries announced the true arrival of winter. His shift of consciousness quickened until he could sink into meditation at will. He memorized every formula through the Third Stage. Still more time passed. Snow fell in earnest and began to pile deep. Through meditation he descended gradually into the depths of awareness—and at last he succeeded in memorizing every formula of the Balanced Heaven Qi Accumulation Art.
A full month had passed since he first began the foundation art.
His meditating mind forgot the outer world that reached him through the five senses. The martial formulas he recited by habit still held meanings he did not fully grasp. Yet something within his mind, stirred by the endless repetition, began to wake. The moment a second eye, closed until now, opened—
“Ah….”
Cheonhwa could not stop the soft sound of wonder. The natural energy of heaven and earth filled every direction. It was so clear, so unmistakably present, that he wondered how he had never noticed it before.
“From the look of it, you have succeeded.”
The voice at his side drew Cheonhwa’s consciousness back to the surface. He opened his eyes to find Instructor Inwol watching him.
Right. I am in the middle of individual training.
Only then did he remember what he had been doing.
“Yes. My qi sense has opened.”
“If qi sense is open, the next step is generating true qi. You know the method?”
Cheonhwa nodded. Every formula of the Balanced Heaven Qi Accumulation Art was already locked inside his mind. He did not yet understand them completely, yet he could perform the First Stage without difficulty.
“If anything goes wrong I will intervene, so do not worry. Proceed.”
Cheonhwa sank into meditation once more. Deep meditation sealed the five senses and honed qi sense to a keen edge.
First, draw in natural qi.
Through his breath he pulled the overflowing natural energy of the world—natural qi—into his body. Still unaccustomed, he could absorb only a little with each breath. Even so he continued, gathering natural qi through steady repetition.
Natural qi was unsuited to martial arts. It had to be refined according to the middle formulas of the First Stage of the Balanced Heaven Qi Accumulation Art. The refined energy was called true qi, or internal energy. Since it had been refined by this art’s formulas, one could also call it Balanced Heaven Qi.
True qi moved far more readily than natural qi. Left alone, however, it would scatter like smoke.
So I must fashion a vessel that will hold the true qi and keep it from dispersing.
Cheonhwa guided the Balanced Heaven Qi and gathered it at the Qihai acupoint in his lower abdomen. At first it refused to cohere, yet as he continued to pour true qi into a single point, a change occurred. Like a lodestone drawing iron filings, the point began to pull true qi toward itself.
Cheonhwa did not miss the opening. He kept generating and supplying Balanced Heaven Qi. The attraction at the Qihai acupoint drank the true qi with the greed of a starving hungry ghost, and the absorbed energy became the foundation of a new organ that had no physical form. When the organ of true qi at last took complete shape, the suction faded. The storm quieted, and a strange new presence settled clearly in his lower abdomen.
The vessel that held true qi—the dantian—was complete.
“Hoo….”
Cheonhwa exhaled in relief. His entire body was soaked in sweat. Creating the dantian had drained both physical strength and mental force.
“Instructor Inwol, I have formed a dantian.”
“…You formed it in a single attempt?”
Inwol asked, face startled. Once qi sense was open, refining true qi was not especially hard. Gathering that true qi to create a dantian was another matter entirely. The difficulty lay in holding the true qi in one place. True qi, like smoke, possessed a strong tendency to scatter. Inside the body the tendency lessened, yet it never vanished. One had to grip the true qi until it cohered. The slightest lapse of concentration and the energy would dissipate, turning all effort to foam. Unless one’s talent was considerable, forming a dantian in a single sitting was a grueling ordeal.
I knew his concentration was excellent, but I never imagined it reached this level.
That focus was not simply innate. It was an acquired talent forged over nearly half a year by the poison of his circumstances—and living proof that every strange feat and every drop of effort until now had not been wasted.
Whether the boy knew this or not, he gave the credit to his instructor.
“It is thanks to the advice you gave me, Instructor. While I constantly sought the meaning of the Balanced Heaven Qi Accumulation Art formulas, I came to understand a great many things.”
“No. Even if I offered advice, accepting it and putting it into practice was entirely your doing.”
“Thank you for the praise.”
Boy and instructor traded credit back and forth, exchanging warm words.
“Forming a dantian is tiring work. We will stop here for today.”
“Understood.”
Cheonhwa unfolded his legs and rose. A faint sense of dissonance struck him.
My body feels light?
He had exhausted so much strength and focus creating the dantian that his head still swam with fatigue. Yet somehow his physical condition felt improved. When he hopped lightly in place to test himself, Inwol saw and explained.
“Forming a dantian at the Qihai acupoint always makes the body feel better.”
More precisely, simply accumulating internal energy in the dantian strengthened the body. It was not as direct as an external art that tempered the flesh itself, yet internal arts produced a similar effect through the accumulation of qi.
“During basic training there were always a few senior brothers with exceptional stamina, remember? That is because they had already learned martial arts.”
That was why martial power transcended gender and age. Even a third-class martial artist who had learned only the most basic street-level foundation art was superhuman compared with an ordinary person who knew nothing of martial cultivation. How much more so a child who had mastered the foundation art of a renowned orthodox sect?
“Once you complete the Second Stage of the Balanced Heaven Qi Accumulation Art, you will be able to subdue an adult with pure physical strength alone.”
At Inwol’s words, Cheonhwa’s mind returned to an old memory—the fight with the street thugs that had led him to meet Daoist Jinhyun.
Back then I lacked the strength and had to wring every drop of wit just to survive.
Even so, the odds had been nine to one against him. But now that he had learned martial arts?
I can face those bastards with nothing but my own strength.
Remembering the Daoist who had casually subdued the thugs, Cheonhwa clenched his fists. Hot zeal burned in the boy’s eyes.