“You may not realize it, but your martial arts have reached a critical juncture. If you take one more step forward, you’ll master the fundamentals. However, if you slack off now, all your efforts will go to waste,” the blind man, Uncle Mang, analyzed for Su Jie.

“I know the person training you is someone extraordinary, and it’s definitely not Gu Yang. Gu Yang is a bit rigid. While his martial arts skills are solid, he lacks flexibility. Moreover, you’re attending a temporary martial arts class, so what Gu Yang can teach you is limited. Still, even if your trainer is a top-tier expert, you must understand that ‘even a skillful cook cannot prepare a meal without good ingredients.’ In the training process, the coach is important, but what’s more crucial are nutrition, medicine, equipment, and communication.” 

Uncle Mang continued, “I just checked your physical condition. Your form has been shaped perfectly during training. However, it seems you didn’t have access to the best supplements or nutrition; otherwise, your physical fitness could have been even better. If you want to go further, the Minglun Martial Arts Academy currently offers the best resources in the country. Even with a world-class trainer behind you, they can’t compare to the full support of an entire organization.”

“Uncle Mang, I understand what you mean. I’ll think about it carefully,” Su Jie nodded, aware that Uncle Mang, like Sister Nie, hoped he would enter professional combat sports and abandon his academic pursuits. It was a significant life decision he couldn’t take lightly.

“I’m just bringing it up,” Uncle Mang waved his hand dismissively. “I’m not interested in who’s training you or what they’ve taught you. But I am curious—what exactly have you learned? And if you want to learn more, what would you like to focus on?”

“I’ve mainly learned a move called ‘digging and turning soil,’ along with a relaxation technique for sleeping. When lying in a spread-eagle position, I stretch as much as I can, imagining being drawn and quartered. Oh, and I’ve also learned a set of joint exercises…” Su Jie admitted, hoping to gain guidance from the skilled Uncle Mang. He figured their conversation might provide valuable insights.

“The digging and turning soil move—using a hoe—is considered the mother of all punches. Its rise and fall, twisting and turning, wrapping, horizontal strikes, sudden leaps, and evasions encompass all sorts of power dynamics. Once mastered, all martial arts techniques become second nature. Gu Yang must have been the one to teach you this secret method. It’s like a fundamental formula in academics—it can evolve into countless variations,” Uncle Mang nodded in approval. “However, in martial arts, the most crucial aspects are mental fortitude, physical fitness, and technical skills.”

“First comes courage, second comes strength, and third comes skill,” Su Jie repeated thoughtfully. “Courage is mental fortitude, strength is physical fitness, and skill is technical expertise. I’ll focus on sharpening my bravery and physical endurance next.”

“Now use the digging and turning soil move to attack me,” Uncle Mang suddenly instructed.

“Are you sure this is okay?” Su Jie hesitated.

“Don’t let my blindness fool you—my heart sees clearly,” Uncle Mang stood with his hands behind his back. “Attack me with full force. If you hold back, I won’t be able to give you proper guidance.”

“Alright, here I go!” Su Jie moved swiftly, stepping forward, raising his hand, and striking downward. His speed was impressive, but just as he was about to hit Uncle Mang, the latter seemingly vanished.

The next moment, Su Jie noticed Uncle Mang had maneuvered into one of his blind spots. With the same move, Uncle Mang struck back, causing Su Jie to fall to the ground. Though Su Jie was knocked down, Uncle Mang’s control was precise, ensuring he felt weightless but sustained no injuries.

Su Jie got up and refrained from attacking immediately. Instead, he reflected, noticing that Uncle Mang’s execution of the same move was far superior. The blind man’s control was intricate, and his ability to identify blind spots and shift power seamlessly offered plenty to ponder.

“Again.”

Determined to learn, Su Jie lunged at Uncle Mang once more. 

But the result was the same—Uncle Mang evaded effortlessly, exploiting a blind spot to push Su Jie down. 

This pattern repeated dozens of times. Finally, Su Jie stopped, closed his eyes, and delved into deep thought, replaying the scenes in his mind.

“Any insights?” Uncle Mang asked after a while.

“Your movements are deliberate and seamless. It feels as though…” Su Jie struggled for the right words, “your power is entirely under your control. You can make it as strong or as light as you wish, wasting no energy. Yes, precision control—that’s what I can’t achieve yet. And then there’s your ability to identify blind spots with ease—how do you manage that?”

“Every defensive stance has a weakness. That weakness is the blind spot. Humans instinctively move to cover their vulnerabilities, constantly shifting to compensate. This concept comes from the philosophy of the Great Expansion—the number 50, reduced by 1 to 49, creates infinite variations. Our weakness is that ‘1,’ which we must continually adjust to cover. Philosophically speaking, it’s about fixing one flaw while creating another—like robbing Peter to pay Paul. But let’s not delve too deeply into theory,” Uncle Mang explained.

“How do you train to identify weaknesses in others?” Su Jie pressed, sensing he had grasped a vital element of martial arts.

“It’s simple. Study the flaws in various moves, then practice agility drills. Spar with others to train your eye and your reflexes in critical moments. Most importantly, gain precise control over your strength. The amount of force doesn’t matter as much as the precision. Whether it’s 100 pounds or 500 pounds, a strike to a vital area is equally lethal. For the human body, bullets, missiles, and even atomic weapons have the same effect—destruction. Martial arts are all about control. Let me teach you a training method,” Uncle Mang offered.

“How should I train?” Su Jie asked eagerly.

“Follow me,” Uncle Mang said, leading Su Jie out of the massage parlor. They navigated familiar paths to a secluded spot on a small hill behind the school.

At the location, there were two stacks of bricks supporting a large sheet of glass. The glass had been smeared with chicken blood, attracting swarms of mosquitoes and flies. It was summer, and the forest was teeming with insects, especially those drawn to the stench.

Nearby, there was a demolition sledgehammer. It appeared to weigh around 20-30 pounds and was designed to break through reinforced concrete walls.

Despite his blindness, Uncle Mang effortlessly picked up the hammer, swung it with precision, and slammed it down. A fly sucking blood on the glass was instantly killed. However, the glass remained completely intact.  

The level of control over his strength was nothing short of extraordinary.

“Your turn,” Uncle Mang handed the hammer to Su Jie.

“Uncle Mang, how is your hearing this sharp?” Su Jie was amazed at how Uncle Mang, despite lacking sight, seemed even more perceptive than an ordinary person.

“Blind people have their own way of seeing the world,” Uncle Mang replied. “This will train your control. If you can use this hammer to kill flies on the glass without damaging it, and do it consistently, your mastery over strength will reach perfection.”

“So heavy,” Su Jie remarked as he picked up the hammer. He noticed that the handle was soft, made of plastic tubing, and difficult to control due to its constant wobbling.

“A small hammer needs a hard handle, but a large hammer requires a soft one to absorb the shock,” Uncle Mang explained. “Construction workers use this kind of hammer to smash reinforced concrete. If it had a rigid handle, the recoil would break the capillaries in their hands after just a few swings. The principle is similar to handling a long spear. Beginners need a flexible white wax wood pole to practice control. Once they master it and become one with the weapon, they can switch to an iron spear.”

Bang!

Su Jie swung the heavy hammer with all his might, aiming for a fly on the glass. He tried to be gentle, but the hammer’s soft handle made it almost impossible to control. As expected, the glass shattered under the impact.

The sound of the breaking glass made Su Jie wince. Such a large piece of glass was now reduced to shards.

“This is such a wasteful way to train,” Su Jie complained.

“From now on, train like this,” Uncle Mang instructed. “Smear chicken blood on the glass to attract flies and use the hammer to kill them. You can also practice with a spear to stab the flies. If you can consistently kill the flies without breaking the glass, you’ll have achieved mastery. But be prepared to waste a lot of glass during the process. It’s an expensive skill to learn.”

“Such a waste,” Su Jie said, shaking his head.

“Have you ever heard the story of Mi Fu learning calligraphy?” Uncle Mang asked.

“It was in my language class,” Su Jie replied quickly. “The story goes that Mi Fu couldn’t write well as a child. He heard about a scholar who excelled at calligraphy and sought his guidance. The scholar agreed but insisted Mi Fu buy his special paper, which cost five taels of silver per sheet. Mi Fu borrowed money to buy the paper and, because it was so expensive, hesitated to write on it. He studied the characters carefully for three days before finally writing the character for ‘eternity.’ The result was a masterpiece, written with great care and dedication.” (G: Mi Fu (1051–1107), originally named Mi Fei, was a Chinese painter, poet, and calligrapher born in Taiyuan during the Song dynasty. He became known for his style of painting misty landscapes. This style would be deemed the “Mi Fu” style and involved the use of large wet dots of ink applied with a flat brush.)

“Do you understand the lesson?” Uncle Mang asked.

“I understand,” Su Jie nodded.

“Then go buy your own glass. It’s summer, and there are plenty of flies and mosquitoes. Practice with the most fragile and expensive glass you can find,” Uncle Mang said before walking away, leaving Su Jie to ponder.

“Mi Fu’s calligraphy training…” Su Jie sat down, replaying the scene of Uncle Mang wielding the hammer in his mind. His strikes, along with the way he dodged attacks, were vastly different from the styles of Gu Yang or Odell.

“Combat blind spots?” Su Jie was intrigued by Uncle Mang’s combat techniques. If he could master them, it would allow him to pinpoint an opponent’s weaknesses and strike decisively.

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Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep