Chapter 62: The Art of Health-Preserving Boxing

“So, when you’re out in the world, you need to keep your head down and remember… discretion is always a virtue.” Master Haori brushed his snowy white beard, adopting the manner of a sage.

“A virtue, my foot,” Chang Yu muttered under his breath, curling his lip. “Isn’t he just telling me to be a coward?”

“What nonsense are you spouting?” Master Haori’s sharp ears caught the whisper, and he glared, beard bristling with annoyance.

“The ripest, fullest wheat always bows its head, and so do the sunflowers heavy with seeds. Those who bow are full; those who stand tall are empty shells. Do you understand this principle?”

Seeing Haori about to lose his temper, Chang Yu hurriedly shifted the topic. “By the way, Master, I have something to ask you.”

He hadn’t come all the way to the Fuling Valley just to argue with Haori. Since it had taken so much effort to get here, business had to come first.

“What is it?” Master Haori raised his head, showing only two dark nostrils in Chang Yu’s direction, exuding an unusually proud air.

In that moment, he looked neither mature nor reserved.

“Could you give me another infusion? I’m not greedy; just help me break through to the next major realm, Foundation Establishment.” Chang Yu asked brazenly.

“Ha…” Master Haori gave Chang Yu a peculiar look. “You wish, but unfortunately…”

“Unfortunately what?” Chang Yu pressed.

“Unfortunately, I can’t.” Haori teased.

“This secret method is meant to enlighten disciples, and at best it can create a Condensation-stage cultivator out of thin air. You’re dreaming if you think you can reach Foundation Establishment with just an infusion. Even if such a powerful method existed, it would probably be a forbidden art. Using it would do more harm than good, damaging your foundation.”

“I see.” Chang Yu was disappointed; his hopes of becoming stronger had just evaporated.

“The path of cultivation is arduous and difficult,” Master Haori continued, worried Chang Yu might stray. “Of course, I know you’ve suffered some setbacks out there. Being a bit impatient in your practice is normal.”

“How about this: since you’ve only learned one technique and can’t fully wield your power, I’ll teach you a set of boxing skills for self-defense.”

The next morning, Chang Yu awoke gently.

Since the high-level ward was in the hospital basement, there was no sunlight streaming through the window.

A set of boxing skills, seemingly simple yet rich with subtlety, was firmly imprinted in his mind. This was the result of last night’s training with Master Haori, practicing the forms until dawn.

The basics were easy to grasp, so Chang Yu memorized the entire set without much effort. Combined with his Fuling Heart Sutra, practicing these moves yielded twice the results for half the effort.

But to reach true mastery, he’d need much more practice.

According to Haori, this so-called Fuling Boxing was the foundational martial art of the Fuling lineage, compulsory for every direct disciple. It was highly practical in combat.

After a night of study, Chang Yu genuinely felt this boxing was extraordinary, unpredictable, and among the finest in the world.

Except… the name was so uninspiring he couldn’t help but complain.

Look at other boxing styles: Tiger Fist, Rising Dragon Fist, Eagle Claw. Their names are fierce and majestic—just hearing them is thrilling.

But his own style? Fuling… Boxing.

It sounded like something devised for health and longevity, on par with the Five Animal Frolics.

He finally understood: the Fuling lineage’s only distinguishing feature was that every technique bore the Fuling prefix, as if they were terrified people wouldn’t know where it came from.

Really, how lazy were the founders when it came to naming things? Everything was Fuling something-or-other…

Glancing at his phone, Chang Yu saw it was still early—Katerina wouldn’t arrive for a while yet.

He wanted to get up and try out his newly learned techniques, but his chest wound hadn’t healed, so he gave up on the idea.

Instead, he relaxed his mind, closed his eyes, and reviewed the boxing moves, deepening his memory.

Time slipped toward noon, and finally Katerina arrived, impeccably dressed.

Katerina probably liked formal attire. In Chang Yu’s memory, she always wore a suit—her style had a unique, poised elegance.

“What are you thinking about?” Katerina asked as she approached.

“A set of boxing techniques,” Chang Yu replied honestly.

“You know boxing?” Her tone held surprise, as if she hadn’t expected this answer.

Her reaction was only natural. If Chang Yu had known boxing, he wouldn’t have suffered so much at the hands of that big ginger cat last week.

Back then, he’d used nothing but street-fighting moves, hardly dignified.

“I didn’t before. Now I do,” Chang Yu answered straightforwardly. “Learned it in a dream last night.”

“Let me guess—it was that old immortal again?” Katerina teased.

After all, their first meeting had been because Chang Yu posted about apprenticing himself to an old immortal in an online forum.

“Believe it or not, that old immortal is real. He often appears in my dreams.” Chang Yu turned and gazed into her eyes, earnest. “The techniques and cultivation I have are all from him. Without him, I’d still be a perfectly ordinary citizen.”

He seemed utterly sincere, and seeing this, Katerina’s demeanor grew serious as well.

“Though your story is a bit far-fetched, I’m willing to believe you,” she said, warming Chang Yu’s heart.

“I’ve looked into your history. In your brief life, you’ve always been ordinary, with no special abilities. The people around you are all regular folks, so there’s no way you received martial guidance in the real world.

“But not long ago, your strength suddenly skyrocketed—you split a table in half before my eyes. I was shocked. Your skills seemed to appear out of nowhere, without any sign or process of learning.

“If your abilities really do come from dreams, as you say, it’s the only explanation that fits.”

“Thank you,” Chang Yu said from the heart. “Thank you for believing me.”

“It’s not so hard to understand, really,” Katerina continued. “Innate abilities are mysterious by nature. Their existence contradicts scientific principles; we can’t explain them with conventional logic, only regard them as gifts from above.

“The world is vast, and all sorts of peculiar talents exist. Some are downright bizarre, bordering on the impossible.

“I’ve researched ancient records. There was once a male anomaly whose talent was giving birth—male childbirth. Imagine! Medicine has never recorded a man delivering a child like a woman.

“Compared to that, your dream-entering ability is much easier to accept—at least it’s within the realm of normal.”

“A man can… give birth?” Chang Yu swallowed, stunned, feeling a deep respect for that remarkable figure.

That would take unimaginable courage to keep living in this world!

If Chang Yu himself, as a man, had a child, he’d have found a rope and ended things long ago.

Men giving birth—that was just too humiliating.

“By the way, does our bureau have any systematic methods for training how to control innate abilities?” Chang Yu asked after some hesitation.

He’d thought deeply before asking Katerina this. He needed the bureau’s advanced technology and expertise in extraordinary abilities to help him master his own.

He’d begun to realize that while his talent was miraculous, he lacked control.

He wished he could dream of the Fuling Valley whenever he wanted to see Master Haori, instead of relying on luck.

“You feel you haven’t mastered your ability yet?” Katerina immediately understood.

“Exactly,” Chang Yu admitted.

“So you want help from the bureau to strengthen your control?”

“That’s right.”

With Chang Yu’s confirmation, Katerina fell unusually silent for a moment.

“What is it? Don’t tell me the bureau doesn’t have a systematic method for training innate abilities.” Chang Yu was a little nervous.

“It’s an organization with so many years of history—surely it has at least some ways to help people master their talents?”

“Actually, it doesn’t,” Katerina answered, and Chang Yu’s expression shifted.

“Innate abilities ultimately depend on the user themselves to master and develop new applications. Everyone has a different talent; the bureau can’t devise a one-size-fits-all training method.

“Moreover, the very existence of these abilities defies scientific principles. It’s difficult to use scientific methods to help people master them.”

Chang Yu sighed quietly, feeling a bit down. “I think I understand.”

“Relying on external help is always second-rate. To truly master your talent, you must depend on yourself,” Katerina said sincerely. “No one knows you better than you do. Ultimately, your abilities are yours to control. Outsiders can’t help much.”

She concluded, “It’s like crossing a river by feeling for stones.”

Chang Yu forced a smile, still clueless about how to master his powers.

Katerina grew serious. “I’ll report your situation to the bureau—perhaps they’ll offer a new perspective.”

A warm current flowed through Chang Yu’s heart. With their frequent contact these days, he’d started to realize that Katerina was not as cold as she appeared.

She had a warm heart, just misunderstood by others.

“What shall we eat today?” he smiled, deftly shifting the topic.

He didn’t want to spoil the cozy atmosphere with words of gratitude—that would feel too distant.

“Don’t tell me you came without preparing lunch, or we’ll both go hungry.”

As he spoke, Chang Yu glanced at the plastic bag on the table.

It was what Katerina had brought, still wafting the aroma of food—most likely their lunch.