Volume One: At the Foot of Mount Zhongnan Chapter Twelve: Practicing Martial Arts Is a Grueling Task

Li Shimin, Changsun Wuji, and Li Xuanba were drinking together, reminiscing about old times. Having not seen each other for years, they had endless topics to talk about and drank until the third watch of the night. Only then were they satisfied. Since Li Shimin had come in secret without informing his family, he couldn't stay longer; he and Changsun Wuji took advantage of the moonlight and hurried back to Chang'an that very night.

Two days later, Li Shimin sent a trusted servant with three large carts full of gifts. He had seen the hardships in the mountains and felt sorry for his brother Xuanba, who was so poor that he used sticks in place of spears for practice. Thus, he sent a cart of daily necessities for living and training. Another cart was packed with weapons and strength-training equipment: spears, sturdy bows, sabers, and stone locks. The last cart was for Li Ming, now called Li Mingyu, filled with rare tonics and medicinal herbs to aid his martial training and strengthen his foundation.

Changsun Wuji also sent along the gift he had promised: a small dagger just over a foot long, its blade sharp and coldly gleaming. Though not some legendary sword, it was forged of fine steel and suited Li Mingyu perfectly at his current height. After all, one couldn’t expect a child not yet as tall as a saber to wield a three-foot-long weapon.

Li Xuanba, on his end, used up half a cart of those rare medicinal herbs, grinding them carefully into powder and simmering them in a large cauldron day and night, until what remained was a thick, black, greasy ointment that looked and smelled foul—Li Mingyu joked it resembled pig dung.

From then on, Li Mingyu’s hardships began. Every night before bed, Li Xuanba would scoop out a lump of the ointment and smear it all over his body. Not only did the ointment stink, but it also left his skin burning and itching. After applying it, Li Xuanba would rub his hands warm and begin massaging him thoroughly to help the ointment absorb. When finished, the ointment would leave only a thin residue stuck to his skin that wouldn’t wash off; it could only be scraped away, peeling off great flakes of old skin each time. It didn’t hurt, but every day Li Mingyu’s skin would be bright red, as if he were a boiled prawn.

Li Mingyu knew Li Xuanba was using this method to build up his strength and foundation. He was young, at the prime age for bodily development, and the better he absorbed the medicine now, the faster he’d see results in his martial training; even if he suffered injuries in the future, his powerful constitution would help him recover faster than others. In modern terms, this was about unlocking physical potential and reinforcing one's core, much like modern children taking vitamins A, B, C, and D in different forms each day. So, even though it hurt and itched, he still lay quietly, stripping off his clothes and waiting for Li Xuanba to apply the ointment, though his expression each time was as tragic as if he were about to face execution.

“You little rascal, what’s that look for? This ointment is a secret recipe passed down in the Li family, never shared with outsiders. It relaxes muscles, strengthens the body, and is the best foundation-building formula for martial training, reserved for our direct descendants. Don’t be ungrateful. Our Li family has stood tall for a hundred years, producing one famous general after another, all thanks to this secret medicine,” Li Xuanba said as he rubbed the ointment in. “With my unique massage technique, you’ll feel a great surge in strength within a month.”

“Oh, Master, I don’t know if this ointment will really make me stronger, but right now I’m shedding so much skin I look like a boiled shrimp every day. How can I go out and see anyone? When will I ever regain my handsome looks?” Li Mingyu complained, lying on his stomach.

“What do you know? Shedding skin only means you’re growing!” Li Xuanba retorted, not even looking up as he massaged, sweat beading on his brow.

Li Mingyu, hearing the same reply each time, was unconvinced. “I’m not a snake,” he thought, “why would growing mean shedding skin? Does Master think I’ve never seen a nature documentary?”

After persevering with the daily ointment and massage routine for over a month, one morning as Li Mingyu dressed, he noticed that the clothes made for him by the village women had become an inch shorter. Though he was growing quickly, this set of clothes was made only recently by Aunt Zhou—had he grown again so soon? Only then did Li Mingyu realize that his master’s words were true. From then on, his expression during ointment time was no longer so tragic.

This routine continued for another two months, and by the time the large jar of ointment was nearly empty, Li Mingyu had shot up in height, now as tall as an average five- or six-year-old, his cheeks round and plump.

Summer passed into autumn, and when the ointment finally ran out, Li Mingyu rejoiced, thinking his days of suffering were over. But though the ointment was gone, every dawn, as the sky just began to lighten, Li Xuanba would pull him out of bed to practice standing postures.

“To master martial arts, the Hunyuan stance is fundamental! It trains your waist and your breath—standing still is about gathering your energy!” After positioning Li Mingyu, Li Xuanba would eat his breakfast while gesturing and explaining.

The Hunyuan stance was much like the horse stance, except both arms had to be raised as if encircling a ball. In his previous life, Li Mingyu had trained in the military and could hold a horse stance all morning with ease. But his current body was different; after less than half an hour, his arms and legs ached unbearably.

Still, he knew there were no shortcuts in martial arts: a minute on stage comes from ten years of practice, and only those who endure hardship rise above the rest. Though his little face flushed red with effort, he gritted his teeth and persisted.

Li Xuanba, observing quietly, nodded to himself. Though this rascal was usually glib and unserious, when it came to real training, he bore hardship well. He’d expected the boy to beg for mercy after the time it took two incense sticks to burn, but here he was, still hanging on after half an hour and showing no signs of giving up.

“Just you wait, boy. The good times have only just begun,” Li Xuanba thought to himself.

Meanwhile, Li Mingyu was struggling; his arms were numb, his legs trembling uncontrollably, and his body felt heavier by the minute. At last, he couldn’t hold on any longer and collapsed to the ground with a thud.

Li Xuanba checked the time and was impressed—this was the boy’s first time standing in the Hunyuan stance, and he lasted a full hour. When he’d started, he himself had only managed half an hour. Clearly, the boy was exceptionally gifted—he might need to increase his training.

But he couldn’t say that out loud. Instead, he taunted, “Only an hour and you’re down already? Boy, you’re a long way off! When I first practiced this stance, I held it for two hours straight! With your talent, learning martial arts will be hard indeed.”

Li Mingyu, stung by the challenge, massaged his aching legs, stood up, and declared, “Then I’ll stand for three hours!”

Li Xuanba chuckled inwardly at this easy provocation. “You’ve got a big mouth for such a small boy! Let’s see you stand for three hours, then. Talk is cheap!”

Li Mingyu gritted his teeth and held out for another half hour, his arms and legs long since numb, but pride and stubbornness kept him upright. Every time he felt he’d collapse, he’d glimpse Li Xuanba sitting nearby, watching him with a mocking smile, and suddenly his determination would flame anew. But he was still a child; though his will was strong, his body eventually gave out. After two hours, everything went black and he fainted.

When he woke, he found himself stripped naked, soaking in a large tub with only his head above water. The room was filled with fragrant steam from medicinal herbs steeping in the hot water. The warmth enveloped his body, and Li Mingyu felt as comfortable as a baby floating in a womb, all his exhaustion melting away.

After a while, Li Xuanba entered with a bowl of medicine. “Here, drink this! You’ll sleep well and wake up full of energy tomorrow.”

Li Mingyu was moved and blurted, “Master…” He wanted to express his gratitude, but before he could, Li Xuanba teased, “Sleep well and rest up. You’ll need the strength to keep bragging tomorrow!”

Li Mingyu hastily retorted, “A man’s word is his bond! Tomorrow I’ll stand for three hours, or I’ll be yours to raise!”

Li Xuanba laughed to himself, “You already are mine to raise.”

Li Mingyu suddenly found himself speechless.