Crane Style Arts

He cleaned up any traces of his presence, then used a simple flash step to accelerate his pace. After buying a new set of clothes, loose hoodie, joggers —to mask his now 188cm frame. The metro ride home was a gauntlet of sidelong glances.

But during the whole journey his eyes were glancing around. He found third color gold spots outside a host in space. It conveyed a yet-to-be-realized offensive edge. Or something like future stance prediction based on current movement and spatial reference.

He experimented with it and found it's just prediction based on past movement. So, if a person intent to get off metro suddenly as if realizing his station had arrived, the gold spots likewise twist and transforms in front of him as he start to get out. It is not a complete future attack prediction but purely an emulation based on law of forces and energies.

A teenager's whispered "Idol?" seeing him eyeing around. Followed him off the train for a while.

After nearing his home, his mind raced with one thought: How am I going to explain this transformation? The answer was simple: pretend nothing happened.

He arrived home at noon to an empty house. After eating a quick lunch, he collapsed into bed, exhausted from the breakthrough.

When his mother returned that evening, she paused at his doorway, her eyes widening at the sight of her son in sleep.

Han Chen lay sprawled on the bed, his shirt off, his skin glowing faintly in the dim light. His face was almost too perfect, his body sculpted like a statue. For a moment, she wondered if she'd walked into the wrong room.

"Chen…?" she whispered, stepping closer.

He stirred, his eyes flicking open. "Mom, what are you doing?"

She blinked, caught off guard. "Checking if you're still my son. How do you explain… this?" She gestured vaguely at him. "Did you put on my makeup or something. And your skin—it's like iron. But there's no Qi fluctuation...No you are Ming Jin already? What did you do?" She already caught my hand to perceive realm.

Han Chen sat up straighter, then, as if unsure what to do with his hands, stroked his cheek in an awkward gesture "I've just been training the technique you gave me. But… I felt it was missing something, so I made a few adjustments. Nothing major and my strength keeps improving and i broke through ming Jin this morning."

She raised an eyebrow. "You modified the technique? Your father always said not to do that...Why are you being so careless? "

He shrugged. "It worked, didn't it? If you want, I can tell you the adjustments."

Her eyes flashed. "No. Careless isn't the word for it! Reckless, arrogant, stupid—those are better fits, Chen'er! Do you have any idea what you're doing? Martial arts isn't a game, it's not some math equation you can tinker with until you get the right answer! It demands respect, discipline! Your father spent decades mastering the basics and yet you just...change it? Who do you think you are genius?"

' Heaven defying genius?, yes I am.' he mused internally.

She began pacing, agitation radiating off her. "This isn't about results, it's about respect! What gives you the right to rewrite a technique passed down for generations? What gives you the right to risk crippling yourself! You are a genius, son, I know, But even genius sometimes makes stupid decisions. I care about you. Its like when you wanted to jump from the 3rd floor last time without safety mats when you are 6 years old saying ' I am a god, I won't get hurted. '"

Han Chen stiffened, the flippant attitude gone. "I knew what I was doing," he repeated, his voice tight. "I wouldn't do something to harm myself."

"Oh, and I'm supposed to take your word for that?" she snapped. "You're sixteen years old! What do you know about energy flow and meridian strain compared to your father? You think you can just rewrite decades of tradition overnight!?"

She stopped pacing, her chest heaving. Her voice softened, but the anger still simmered beneath the surface. "Sometimes… sometimes I look at you, Chen'er, and I don't know what to think anymore. You've changed so much lately—and not all of it's been good. You want to get strong so fast that you skip important steps."

She sighed, running a hand through her hair. The anger slowly drained from her face, leaving behind a weary sadness. "Looking at you, I know you succeeded, but It just scares me, Chen'er," she said, her voice quieter now. "It scares me to see you pushing yourself like this, without caring who you are hurting."

Han Chen remained silent; his gaze fixed on the floor.

After a long moment, she released another heavy sigh, the last of her anger dissipating. "Alright," she said, her voice resigned. "I can't stop you, can I? You're stubborn, just like your father. We already know you went out on your own outside as we called Fan Qing to learn about your recent 'night out at friends' situation' "

Han Chen smiled a sheepish smile as if he was caught doing something he shouldn't.

A faint smile touched her lips. "But if you're going to be reckless, at least be smart about it and know what you're getting into." She sat down beside him, the anger now replaced with reluctant curiosity. "So, tell me… what adjustments did you actually make?"

Han Chen shifted, a glimmer of his earlier confidence returning. "The original technique relies too much on external movements. Instead, I focused on…" And he launched into a general explanation, detailing energy pathways and muscle alignment based on inspiration, his technical jargon a stark contrast to the raw emotion of their earlier exchange.

She listened intently, her brow furrowed, occasionally interjecting with questions. While the concern in her eyes hadn't completely vanished, the storm had passed, replaced by wonder but grudging acceptance. When he was finished, she was quiet for a moment. "And you're certain this is safe?"

"I wouldn't have done it if it wasn't," he said, though his voice was now low.

She scrutinized him for a long while before sighing, some of the warmth returning to her expression. " This is all good, but how can you be sure if you are not limiting your future breakthrough path?"

He nodded. "I promise. Nothing ventured, nothing gained."

"Good," she said, leaning back with a sigh of exhaustion. "Now, write me that training manual. I want to see if it can bring me some more points of beauty. Let's see if your adjustments actually make sense before your father finds out and has a heart attack. Besides, you are at Ming Jin, this calls for a family treat."

His eyes lit up. "Really? Mother!"

He spent the next hour explaining and rewriting version of the family's Crane Style Arts. For those below Ming Jin, he emphasized refining the body's softness and hardness in harmony:

"To refine is to blend opposites. The body is soft as silk in repose, hard as iron in action. Through this, the beautiful and the powerful are one, with each breath deepening the cultivation, each movement honing the sharpness of one's intent. The body, sculpted with such care, is both a temple of grace and a fortress of strength."

For those under Martial Master, he added:

"When the Qi flows unhindered, the body becomes a conduit for beauty. Every curve smooth, every muscle hard as the earth beneath your feet. In stillness, the body reflects softness; in motion, it exudes sharpness. The true form is neither rigid nor weak, but an ever-flowing balance between the two....."

He demonstrated the movements and meridian channeling, ensuring she understood.

"And Mom," he added, "don't tell Dad. If this works, he'll brag about it to his relatives or even coworkers, and you know how that'll go. There are already too many eyes on our family. A genius who doesn't grow is just a target."

"Okay," she said, her voice carrying a mix of excitement and curiosity. "Now let's talk about what you were doing outside." She paused, then added with a hint of dry humor, "And don't try to tell me you've taken up bird-watching."

"It's not drugs, I'm sure," she continued, her tone becoming more serious. "A restless mind wouldn't have the focus needed for cultivation." She sighed, rubbing her temple.

"I was just training in martial arts outside," Han Chen admitted, feeling a sudden urge to be honest with her. "Being outside with nature... it brings me harmony. Training inside the room feels stuffy, and reaching a breakthrough needs an absolute state of mind." As he spoke, he noticed his mother's expression softening, a glimmer of understanding—and perhaps a touch of pride—in her eyes.

"Be aware of prying eyes" saying that she left taking the written notes to the training room in house.

He already shifted the Martial path to have potential to advance to innate and further, and how much can they understand depend on themselves. He never paid much attention to family's martial art, yet it only took a moment of thought for it to undergo multitude of transformations within his mind to maximize its potential.

Later, when his dad returned, Han Chen relaxed his skin, masking its unnatural hardness. His father, none the wiser, simply ruffled his hair and asked if he'd been doing okay at school.

Han Chen smiled faintly. "Something like that." Simply clueless as ever. Only when mother introduced the realm breakthrough at dinner time, did he notice the changes. Then his own interrogation started. Obviously, mother helped and concealed about the martial arts but warned him to keep his lips tight about the rest.