Chapter 10 Inheritance Flawed, Such Unique Skills

"Too petty, too shameless, was it necessary to target me just for attacking the lower body during the duel?"

It wasn't until lunchtime that, when the two sat together, Tang Lin'er finally vented the frustration he had been holding in all morning.

Heavily shoveling a few mouthfuls of wheat rice into his mouth, he continued:

"Brother Zhou, tell me, in a real life-and-death fight, anything goes. My sword technique should be fine, right?"

"The technique is fine, but, why were you always staring at people's butts when Wei Dazui was helping you activate your circulation?"

Zhou Ping'an thought of that moment and almost laughed, barely managing not to spray the crumbs of steamed bun from his mouth.

Indeed, because of Tang Lin'er's incredibly inappropriate gaze, when Wei Dazui instructed the Gentle Water Eight Stances, everyone else received pointed guidance, but with Tang Lin'er, he only pressed two acupoints and never went near him again.

Even when Tang Lin'er shamelessly approached to ask for advice, he was scolded and sent away.

Wei Dazui had said, "Practice on your own. Everyone else has learned it, only you haven't. Don't you think about your own problem, is it because your brain is too slow?"

Though the words hurt, the situation was overpowering. Unable to beat them, and seemingly of lower status, Tang Lin'er could only bow his head and swallow his anger.

There was no other way.

"Ah..."

As for staring at people's butts,

Tang Lin'er lost his appetite for his meal.

He heaved a long sigh.

"Brother Zhou doesn't know, when I was young, I was frail and often bullied.

But I'm someone who can't stand to be slighted, and after suffering injustice, I would always dwell on it day and night, wanting to get revenge."

"So, over the years, I've developed a habit...

Whenever I see a formidable opponent, I feel uncomfortable all over, and my mind constantly imagines how to attack them, to turn defeat into victory, to knock down the opponent?"

I understood.

This was post-traumatic stress disorder.

Modern medicine has a term for it.

To turn an attack on someone's butt, hitting their private parts, these despicable moves, into an instinct.

You can imagine what kind of life Tang Lin'er must have had as a child.

Without having endured more than ten severe beatings, without experiencing the deep despair of being overpowered, it's unlikely that he would have had this realization.

Keep in mind, a goatee who appeared very knowledgeable even said the other day, this guy looks incredibly adaptive, but his moves are all over the place, clearly self-taught.

In other words, he had no master's guidance and had enlightened himself to create the "Ground Rolling Undercut Blade Technique."

Tang Lin'er felt somewhat discouraged, "I couldn't help it, okay? The stance he took at that time was just too inviting..."

Promising.

What you keep thinking about, you will achieve.

This guy is always thinking about how to attack, and one day he will truly master the Butt Stabbing Technique.

"Let's not talk about that. What did you feel when Wei Dazui pressed your acupoints?"

Pounce Knife Stance, Falling Sword Form, Snatching Blade Form, Lying Blade Form, Zhou Ping'an demonstrated all the positions.

He was also confident that, with his body control abilities, all movements were performed very accurately, indistinguishable from Wei Dazui's demonstrations.

However, as soon as he took these poses, without standing for long, if it wasn't muscle cramps in the waist, then it was numbness in the calves and back, as if countless ants were crawling all over his body.

It was both sore and swollen, numb and itchy.

Clearly, my stance method was not properly learned...

"As for the feeling, it was quite miraculous. After Wei Dazui pressed down on my shoulder a few times,

I felt a jolt through my body, and a rush of warmth broke through at the waist and traveled down to my left leg...

The Pounce Knife Stance suddenly became very comfortable."

"I suspect that Wei Dazui's muscles and bones are nearly at the point of Great Achievement with strength... that's why he is able to help others regulate their blood flow and qi."

Thinking of how Zhou Ping'an was even more unfortunate, never having received personal guidance from Wei Dazui from the beginning to the end, not even mastering a single stance method,

for some reason, as they talked, Tang Lin'er began to feel better inside.

A smile returned to his face.

"I see."

Zhou Ping'an pondered thoughtfully.

He remembered the year he turned fifteen, when he was learning to box at the Dragon Tiger Martial Arts Hall.

He mainly practiced routines, but he didn't neglect the Stance Method either. He had put in considerable effort on the Three-Body Stance.

What appeared to be a very simple fundamental pile stance actually required mastery of "one support, two buckles, three rounds, four agility, five embraces, six hangs, seven bends, eight straights."

At the same time, there was the extremely abstruse concept of sinking one's qi to the dantian and using intent rather than strength.

In the beginning, Zhou Ping'an always felt a sore back and leg pains, his arms would be weak, and he couldn't stand for a few minutes without feeling uncomfortable all over.

"How did I manage to train to perfection again?"

It was ground out through persistent practice.

As days turned into months, and with familiarity came skill, there suddenly came a day when he began to stand comfortably.

From ten minutes to half an hour, then to one hour, and finally, he could stand for half a day without feeling tired at all.

Compared to that, Master Dong actually wasn't very good at teaching.

'Since the Gentle Water Eight Stance Method can strengthen muscles and bones, and increase strength, it must not be overlooked.

The old method, slowly grinding away, starting with simpler movements before slowly increasing the difficulty.' he thought.

At this thought,

Zhou Ping'an lost interest in bantering with Tang Lin'er.

He returned to his own place in East Cross Courtyard to digest his food and began to get into position, slowly breaking down the movements, experimenting with them one by one.

Where lies the difficulty?

Why do the muscles and bones feel so uncomfortable when executing this movement?

What exactly causes it?

Could a slight change in posture make it workable?

In the T-Shaped Room of East Cross Courtyard, next to the corner of the Herbal Garden, an old man with white whiskers was slowly tending to the soil and watering. Zhou Ping'an went through his motions, a scene of tranquility.

"You're doing it wrong; your moves look ugly."

Under the afternoon sun in the corner of the room, a small head with a Tiger Head Hat peeked out, and a pair of shiny black eyes blinked with immense curiosity.

She seemed to not understand why Zhou Ping'an was practicing with such a grimacing and painful expression.

"Ugly, you say? I suppose so."

Thinking back to the "Falling Sword Form" he had just practiced, which resembled a yellow dog lifting its leg to pee, Zhou Ping'an inexplicably felt a surge of embarrassment.

This kid, always speaking blunt truths.

"Can the big brother who can kick noses show me the move from that day?"

The little one's eyes gleamed.

She still remembered how elegant the big brother looked when he hung in mid-air, twisted his waist to kick above his head.

How he kicked Wei Dazui squarely on the nose, then used the rebound force to tuck and roll landing gracefully, and with a bow, said, "Thanks for letting me win," was simply too beautiful.

How could it not look good?

After all, he was someone who had won the first prize at the Donglin Province Youth Martial Arts Competition.

Indeed, his long legs shone brightly, and his actions were suave to the extreme.

Even girls and young wives who knew nothing of martial arts would be dazzled watching him.

Jumping on the spot, rolling three and a half times mid-air, and landing without a ripple were all basic drills.

"You want to see that one? Alright, but you can't keep calling me the big brother who can kick noses. My name is Zhou Ping'an, what's your name?"

"Mama said we shouldn't casually tell our names to others, but if you, Brother Ping'an, treat me to some candy, I'll whisper it to you, my name is Xiao Jiu, but don't tell anyone else."

"Ha..."

Watching the seven- or eight-year-old girl's conflicted expression, Zhou Ping'an couldn't help but burst into laughter.

"Alright, I won't tell anyone."

Zhou Lan, his little sister, was also quite fun when she was younger, so naive that she often caused laughter with her antics.

As she grew up, she became more gentle and calm.

Perhaps that's what growing up was.

Thinking about past memories, Zhou Ping'an looked at the little girl in front of him, who didn't even have a single playmate, and felt a stir in his heart.

"Okay, I'll show you a great trick, it's guaranteed to be good."