The Greatest Showman #699 - Mysterious East

After filming The Amazing Spider-Man, Andrew's schedule became packed, leaving him with little free time. The martial arts lessons, intended to prepare him for his fight scenes, were squeezed into his private time. But he needed a more efficient way of learning. After all, he didn't need to become a martial arts expert—just proficient enough to execute the fight scenes convincingly. The rest could be handled by a professional stunt double.

Despite the pressure of his schedule, Armando decided to leave, while Andrew chose to stay.

Andrew approached Renly, who had been discussing something with another person. The individual, who had been quietly observing, stood up as Andrew approached and left without a word, leaving just Andrew and Renly in the room.

Andrew studied Renly's stance before squatting down to attempt the position.

However, the Zama step was far more difficult than he had anticipated. After just 30 seconds, Andrew's knees began to shake, and he felt as though he could no longer hold himself up. The difficulty was in finding the right balance of force—his posture and alignment were completely wrong, which led to unsustainable pressure.

Renly noticed Andrew's struggles and began offering basic corrections. Despite his attempts, Andrew still couldn't grasp the right technique. Renly, ever patient, stood up and adjusted Andrew's posture, showing him where to apply pressure. Though Andrew was beginning to find a rhythm, the physical exertion was overwhelming. After just a few minutes in the correct position, his muscles started to burn with exertion.

The Zama step, while deceptively simple in theory, activated nearly every muscle in Andrew's body. It reminded him of the core-strengthening exercises like planks, but far more intense.

A seemingly simple task took over half an hour to practice. After struggling for about six or seven minutes, Andrew's body finally gave out. He collapsed to the floor, drenched in sweat, unable to get back up. His calves and knees were shaking uncontrollably, and it seemed impossible to continue.

Meanwhile, Renly, who had been performing the same exercise, looked as though he could have gone on forever. Despite a light sheen of sweat on his forehead, Renly sat calmly, exuding ease and control. Andrew, in awe, couldn't help but wonder how he had lasted for so long.

After a brief moment, Renly slowly stood up, stretched his legs, and adjusted his breathing as if he had just taken a casual stroll.

"Have you really only been here for two weeks?" Andrew asked in disbelief.

Renly nodded affirmatively, prompting Andrew to ask, "So, what did you learn in those two weeks?"

Renly smiled and replied, "The Zama step. For the last ten days, that's all I've practiced. On the eleventh day, I started learning how to strike the stakes."

"That's it?" Andrew's eyes widened. "Just that?"

"That's it," Renly confirmed, his smile widening. "Why did you choose to stay?"

Andrew chuckled, running a hand through his hair. He slumped down to the floor, sprawled out with his legs extended, feeling as though he had been thoroughly defeated. "I don't know. I thought I might really learn something here, not for the movie, but just for myself."

Although Andrew had achieved fame through his roles in The Social Network and The Amazing Spider-Man, few knew that he had a background in theater. He had trained at the Drama Centre London and spent nearly two years performing in London's West End before diving into his film career. His journey had always been one of refining his craft, continuously pushing himself beyond his limits. Even after his first Oscar nomination for Hacksaw Ridge, he returned to the stage to star in Angels in America, spending nearly a year polishing his performance.

This dedication to his craft explained why Andrew didn't shy away from the grueling work of learning martial arts. He wasn't driven by fame or spectacle; rather, he sought personal growth.

Renly, who had similarly embraced the importance of foundational skills in martial arts, wasn't surprised by Andrew's choice. He knew all too well the temptation to rush toward advanced techniques without first mastering the basics.

"That's why they had us start with the horse stance," Renly explained. "It's about building a strong foundation. The power in martial arts comes from the lower body—if your base is unstable, everything else will fall apart. Unfortunately, most people don't want to wait. They want quick results—become a martial arts master in 30 days, a grandmaster in three months. But that's not how it works."

Renly, in his own journey, had been through the same process. He had arrived at Liu's Martial Arts Hall just as a beginner, and despite the minimal crowd, he knew the value of slow, steady progress. He wasn't rushing—he was building the necessary strength and discipline.

"Hasn't it only been two weeks?" Andrew asked again, incredulous. "Your performance just now—it looked like the work of a master!"

Renly chuckled. "No, I'm far from a master. Those are just basic techniques—leverage, stances, routines for hitting the stakes. This is just the beginning."

True mastery would take years, Renly explained, but the two weeks he had spent learning the basics laid the groundwork for future growth. It was like planting seeds—the visible effects would come in time.

Andrew sighed. "I guess I was a bit too naive."

Renly laughed and, as the conversation continued, Andrew once again found himself back in the horse stance. He had barely noticed the time passing, but now, with Renly's guidance, he was ready to push himself further.

"You need to focus on consistency and gradual improvement," Renly advised. "Don't rush it. This is just one of the fundamental skills."

Andrew, now committed to improving, resumed the stance. Renly, satisfied with his progress, took a short break before heading outside to practice with the wooden stakes. Just as he was about to leave, voices from the hallway interrupted the moment.

"Third Senior Brother, have you made up your mind? The Englishman is back again today. It's been almost half a month. What are you going to teach him?"

One voice responded, "Don't rush it. Let him continue hitting the stakes. He won't last much longer—he's like a vase. Three weeks is his limit."

Their conversation, conducted in Mandarin, didn't faze Andrew. He listened curiously, surprised to hear fluent Mandarin in a place like this, especially in a Chinatown where Cantonese had long been the dominant dialect.

As the conversation died down, two more people appeared in the classroom, grinning mischievously.