Su Jie could tell that Old Chen was a grandmaster who had practiced Tai Chi for many years.

He had once looked down on Tai Chi, thinking it was just a form of dance or aesthetics. But after learning Odell’s joint exercises, he realized it was a true martial art. With this set of movements as a foundation and warm-up, it adjusted both body and mind, allowing anyone to quickly get into the right state for any kind of training.

It was like the “Nine Yang Scripture” from martial arts novels—once practiced, it greatly accelerated the learning of any other martial arts.

In fact, the text of the “Nine Yang Scripture” in those novels was directly taken from ancient Tai Chi manuals, such as the line: “His force barely brushes my skin, but my intent has already reached his bones.”

This line referred to the essence of Tai Chi’s “pushing hands.” The moment two people made contact, one could sense the other’s strength and weaknesses, determine where the attack would land, and respond in advance.

These were all ancient insights, later borrowed by martial arts novelists.

Last time, when Su Jie brought lunch to his mother at the university, he had run into Instructor Yu Jiang. They had tried pushing hands as well.

But clearly, Old Chen’s Tai Chi was far superior to Yu Jiang’s.

Su Jie reached out and made contact with him.

Old Chen’s eyes lit up. To outsiders, it seemed like he hadn’t even moved, but Su Jie immediately felt a powerful force pushing him backward.

This technique was simply godlike.

Su Jie bent his body, rooted his feet to the ground, and suddenly slid forward. Without even thinking, his arm lashed out.

No matter how you tried to throw me, hit me, kill me, push me, confuse me, or distract me—I would still strike with this move.

His palm was already aimed at Old Chen’s face.

All of Old Chen’s Tai Chi skills—borrowing force, redirecting power, techniques like peng, lu, ji, an, cai, lie, zhou, kao—were rendered useless. Like Zhou Chun before him, he could only watch helplessly as Su Jie’s palm came crashing down.

In that split second, Old Chen suddenly bent at the waist, folding his chest and waist together, almost flattening himself to the ground. He darted to the left and barely avoided the blow.

But before he could stand up, Su Jie’s punch came flying at his face again.

It stuck to him like a shadow.

Like a maggot clinging to the bone.

It would not stop unless it drew the enemy’s blood.

Bang!

At that moment, Su Jie’s punch was caught.

It was Master Ma who intervened, finally stopping Su Jie’s onslaught.

“Stop,” Master Ma said.

Su Jie paused and immediately apologized. “Sorry, that was an instinctive reaction. I lost.” He sounded very sincere, because by the rules of Tai Chi pushing hands, he had indeed lost.

Of course, under no-holds-barred combat rules, if he had kept going, it could’ve ended in a bloody mess.

But those last two strikes had been purely instinctual. He didn’t even have to think—they bypassed conscious thought entirely.

In such lightning-fast exchanges, there was no time to think. It all came down to muscle memory forged through relentless training.

“As they say, fists fear the young. I really can’t deny that anymore,” Old Chen took a deep breath. Though he hadn’t been hit, he was clearly shaken. “There’s a saying in the martial world: ‘The most vicious and deadly is the Xingyi strike.’ It’s not just empty talk.”

“Of course,” Master Ma said, still staring at Su Jie. “The farmer’s Hoe Strike Technique isn’t simple. Since ancient times, farmers were usually the most honest people. But once pushed too far, they could turn the world upside down—overthrow emperors and dynasties. Old Chen, now that you’ve experienced this strike for yourself, what do you think?”

“To train a move to such a level… I’ve seen very few like it. It’s pure. Extremely pure. Right—my student once told me he encountered a master who was just a kid. One explosive strike could burst a basketball. That must’ve been you.” Old Chen looked at Su Jie as if he had found a treasure, examining him up and down.

“Instructor Yu Jiang is your student?” The mention of the exploded basketball told Su Jie everything. No wonder Yu Jiang’s power was somewhat similar to Old Chen’s.

“He’s my youngest student. He’s an officer now. After that match with you, he couldn’t stop thinking about it. He’s been looking for you, hoping to become friends,” Old Chen said.

“Uncle Chen, what do you think of Su Jie? If you’re satisfied, why not take him as your disciple? I think he’s the best fighter among all your students,” Zhang Manman suggested, throwing Su Jie a meaningful look.

From that look, Su Jie could tell that Old Chen was well-connected, and becoming his student might bring considerable benefits.

“Not at all, not at all,” Old Chen quickly waved his hands. “Even though I’d love to have a disciple like him, I really don’t have anything to teach Little Brother Su when it comes to martial arts. I can’t shamelessly take the title of master. But we can definitely exchange insights on cultivation. I heard from Brother Ma that your fist techniques aren’t even your strongest area—what’s truly impressive is your mastery of Zen. They say the Great Corpse State is practically dead now? I really can’t believe that. In martial arts, it’s harder to temper the mind than the body. Shaping the form is easy—training the intent is hard. As the saying goes, ‘the mind is like a monkey, the will like a wild horse.’ The mind is the all-powerful Sun Wukong, and the will is the White Dragon Horse. Only the likes of the Buddha or Guanyin can subdue them.”

“Old Li will be here soon. He wants me to help him calm his mind. Let’s talk upstairs,” said Master Ma.

The four of them went upstairs. The space was spacious and antique in style, with a writing desk and ceramic vases filled with calligraphy and paintings.

After they sat down, the little boy brought over tea again.

“So thoughtful.” Su Jie patted the boy’s head.

“Don’t underestimate him. He’s been training since he was little. He’s Uncle Ma’s final disciple,” said Zhang Manman. “Xiao Mo, do you still remember me?”

The boy called Xiao Mo nodded.

“Xiao Mo started training young. When he was six and began losing his baby teeth, I used a bone-strengthening method to build up his physique. By now, his body is already far beyond that of others his age,” Master Ma explained. “However, he’ll need to go through another phase of physical structuring between ages fourteen and seventeen before he can truly transcend the ordinary.”

Su Jie was stirred upon hearing that.

The reason he was so skilled now was all thanks to meeting Odell and Uncle Mang during the prime phase of his growth. They used the most scientific methods to strengthen his muscles and bones.

But this boy, Xiao Mo, had started developing strength when he was just six—right at the time of tooth replacement. That was on another level altogether.

In traditional martial arts and Chinese medicine, there’s a belief that teeth reflect bone health—strong bones make for strong teeth, while weak bones result in dental issues.

‘Feng Hengyi is probably so powerful for the same reason—his body was strengthened with scientific methods from a young age. While I didn’t miss the ideal period for growth, I did miss the foundation-building stage during the tooth replacement years,’ Su Jie reflected. He knew he still wasn’t a match for Feng Hengyi.

Back then, he had been taken down with two punches. Now, it probably wouldn’t take more than four or five.

“Su Jie, I can tell your body must’ve recently undergone some transformation thanks to help from an expert. But even with that, it shouldn’t be this powerful,” said Master Ma with curiosity. “The only possible explanation is that your mental state triggered a physical metamorphosis.”

“Master Ma, as far as I know, the world is just beginning to explore psychological training. In some countries, athletes are starting to incorporate elements of psychological conditioning alongside their regular physical training, but it’s still far from complete. I heard from Zhang Manman that you’re an expert in psychology. May I ask you a few things about the Great Corpse State?”

Su Jie didn’t believe in things like feng shui, divination, or fortune-telling, but he did believe in psychology—because it was a science. While some parts resembled metaphysics, they were nonetheless grounded in reality.

He had initially learned the Great Corpse State from Odell, but their time together had been too short for him to grasp its deeper essence. Though he had continued studying on his own, many doubts remained unresolved.

The last time Master Ma casually mentioned the technique in the park, Su Jie had wanted to ask more, but the man had already left. Even so, after pondering it carefully, he still found himself gaining a lot.

Now that he had the chance to meet Master Ma again, he wouldn’t let it slip by.

“I was looking for Old Chen last time when I happened to see you practicing in the park. I saw quite a bit just from that,” said Master Ma, his eyes gleaming with insight. “But you getting up at 3 a.m. every day to train until six? No wonder Old Chen hasn’t seen you. You’re literally training at the crack of dawn.”

“You’ve got spirit, young man.” Old Chen nodded. “My disciple Lao Huang mentioned it too—said he ran into a young guy in the park who would train all day long. When it comes to dedication, you’re a rare breed.”

“Lao Huang?” Su Jie recalled—it was probably that old tai chi master he had met during his first visit. Every move and posture had shown real skill, which convinced him that the Hunyuan Tai Chi School had depth.

“The Great Corpse State is actually the easiest to practice. You just lie down, and it stretches the muscles and relaxes the body. But the hardest part is getting started. Honestly, ninety-nine percent of people who try it are just sleeping. Very few ever reach the first state—‘peace of mind and serenity of spirit.’ That state is what’s referred to as deep hibernation. Not sleep—hibernation.”

Master Ma, as a psychology expert, began breaking it down for Su Jie.

“What’s the difference between sleep and hibernation?” Zhang Manman couldn’t help asking.

“During sleep, the brain still shows wave activity. That’s how dreams are formed. People with poor sleep quality might sleep a lot but still feel exhausted. More and more people around the world are struggling with poor sleep quality. I once gave a lecture at the Royal Hypnosis Society in Europe and used a set of data to show that if everyone could sleep well, human life expectancy could increase by at least thirty percent—possibly more.”

Though Master Ma was technically a feng shui practitioner, here he was discussing statistics and science. Outsiders might find it absurd, but Su Jie knew that ancient Chinese metaphysics contained a lot of profound psychological insight.

That’s what Odell had been searching for.

Su Jie stayed quiet and listened carefully.

“The brainwave activity during sleep is what the Zen schools call ‘gross thought.’ When gross thought is present, the body doesn’t get full rest. The first level of the Great Corpse State, which I call ‘peace of mind and serenity of spirit,’ is what others refer to as ‘subtle thought.’ That’s hibernation. In that state, the brain still has activity, but the large wave movements are gone—gross thought stops entirely. Only subtle thought remains. In this state, the quality of rest is incredibly high. Even just a few hours of rest can leave a person feeling completely refreshed. Over time, the body’s functions and hormone production are enhanced far more effectively than any medicine or supplement.”

Master Ma was, essentially, giving a lecture.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep