aircannonsinc Chapter 42 The Arrival of the Cherry Blossom Country with Aggressive Force
Chapter 42 The Arrival of the Cherry Blossom Country with Aggressive Force
The next morning, as the first rays of sunlight shone into the training base, twenty-one figures stood silently like statues on the training field—it was Ma Cong and his twenty new disciples practicing the "Hun Yuan Zhuang" stance.
Compared to a few days ago, their postures were much more accurate, and each of them wore a devout and focused expression, no longer experiencing the pain and torment they had endured before. They had already experienced the wonderful "pleasure" of their bodies becoming stronger and their spirits becoming more abundant day by day through standing meditation.
Especially after witnessing their master, Ma Cong, effortlessly defeat three American special forces instructors using the traditional Chinese martial arts they were learning, they were filled with boundless awe and enthusiasm for Zhan Zhuang (standing meditation), the most fundamental technique of this martial art. They knew that what they were standing on was not just a stance, but a broad road leading to true strength and the pinnacle of achievement!
After two hours of standing meditation, all the disciples felt refreshed and invigorated. The warm current rising from their dantian and flowing through their limbs and bones gave them more energy than any energy drink.
"Master, shall we practice 'Mud-Walking Steps' again this afternoon?" Shi Lei asked respectfully as he approached Ma Cong. After the formal apprenticeship ceremony last night, he had completely changed how he addressed Ma Cong.
"No." Ma Cong shook his head. "Starting today, we will begin new training."
"New training?" All the disciples' eyes lit up; they had long coveted their master's incredible boxing skills.
"Master, are you going to teach us some boxing techniques? Is it the 'Heart-Piercing Elbow' or the 'Crane's Beak'?" Tank asked excitedly.
"It's too early to learn boxing." Ma Cong poured cold water on their excitement with his words. "Your stance training and footwork are not yet solid. Learning boxing now is just building castles in the air. You will only learn an empty shell without a soul."
"So... what should we practice?" Shi Lei asked humbly.
Ma Cong did not answer, but walked to the edge of the training ground—where a row of special props had been prepared, which were large guns about two meters long, made from white waxwood poles as thick as a bowl.
"Starting today, practice standing meditation in the morning and this in the afternoon." Ma Cong picked up a large spear and flicked it casually.
"Buzz!"
The shaft of the spear emitted a violent hum, and the spearhead left a blur of afterimages in the air.
"This is...shooting practice?" The disciples were all somewhat stunned. They were special forces soldiers, guns were their most familiar companions; whether it was a pistol, rifle, or sniper rifle, each of them was a sharpshooter. But their master was having them practice with this kind of ancient long spear? Would this thing still be useful in modern warfare?
"I know what you're thinking." Ma Cong saw their confusion. "You think practicing shooting is so you can go to the battlefield and fight the enemy with bayonets? Wrong."
"There's a saying in Chinese martial arts: 'Practice the knife for a hundred days, the spear for a thousand days, and the sword for ten thousand days.' The spear is the king of weapons. Practicing with the spear isn't about techniques or killing methods—it's about developing your 'strength'!"
As Ma Cong spoke, he held the gun in both hands and made a simple forward thrusting motion: "Look, doesn't the gun shaft resemble your spine? Doesn't the spearhead resemble your fist? The purpose of gun training is to teach you how to unleash the power from your feet to your waist and hips, and then to your spine, and transmit it completely through the gun shaft to the spearhead! This process is the application of 'whole-body power'!"
"When you can wield this two-meter-long white waxwood staff as easily as your own arms and fingers, and channel all your strength into the tip of the spear without any loss—only then will your punches have the power of a 'spear'! Only then can you achieve 'hitting a person as easily as hanging a painting' and 'the force penetrates the body of an ox'!"
Ma Cong's words struck his disciples like a hammer blow. Their gazes shifted as they looked at the spear in Ma Cong's hand, which seemed to come alive. They understood: spear training wasn't the goal, but a sophisticated method for honing "strength" and "body technique"!
"Now, everyone, one rifle!" Ma Cong ordered. "This afternoon, you will practice only one move—forward, a straight thrust. Ten thousand times!"
"Yes, Master!"
The twenty disciples had no more doubts. One by one, they picked up their spears, took their stances like Ma Cong, and began the tedious yet hopeful practice.
……
Just as Ma Cong began to provide more in-depth martial arts training to his twenty disciples, a higher-level meeting concerning him was being secretly held in General Zhou's office.
Besides General Zhou and Qin Zhenshan, there was another person in the office—an elderly man in a Zhongshan suit, with gray hair but vigorous spirit and sharp eyes. He was none other than "Old Man Chen," Chen Beixuan, who had recommended Ma Cong to General Zhou. He was the honorary president of the Chinese Martial Arts Association and one of the few remaining true grandmasters of Chinese martial arts.
"Old Zhou, you've really struck gold this time." Old Chen's face was filled with undisguised satisfaction. He had already heard from General Zhou about yesterday's thrilling exchange meeting.
"Yes, old leader!" General Zhou's face was also full of joy. "I have to thank you! If it weren't for you, where would I have found such a...monster!"
"He's not a monster," Old Chen shook his head and corrected him. "He's a genius, a once-in-a-century martial arts genius. I thought that after our generation passed away, martial arts would really decline completely."
Old Chen's voice carried a hint of vicissitude and emotion: "I never imagined that Heaven would forsake Chinese martial arts! Such a young man, who has returned to simplicity and directly grasped the essence of martial arts, has emerged!"
"Old Qin," Chen Beixuan looked at Qin Zhenshan beside him, "you've practiced Xingyi your whole life, tell me the truth, how does that kid's Bengquan compare to yours?"
Qin Zhenshan's old face flushed red, and he shook his head with a wry smile: "There's no comparison. My Bengquan is 'Mingjin,' which targets the muscles and bones. But his Bengquan already has the shadow of 'Anjin,' which targets the internal organs, qi, blood, and spirit. We are not on the same level."
Upon hearing Qin Zhenshan's assessment, General Zhou gasped. He knew that Qin Zhenshan's strength was absolutely top-notch in the army; even he admitted that he was not on the same level as Ma Cong. Just how strong was Ma Cong?
"Therefore," Chen Beixuan's expression turned serious, "we must protect and utilize him at all costs!"
He looked at General Zhou and said, word by word, "Old Zhou, I'm here today to convey an instruction from 'above'—with Ma Cong at the core and his twenty disciples as the foundation, formally establish a special project team for 'National Martial Arts Combat Application'! Staffing, budget, personnel, equipment—give it the green light all the way! Whatever you need, we'll provide!"
"You have only one mission!" Chen Beixuan's eyes gleamed with unprecedented light. "In the shortest possible time, train an elite special operations team that has truly mastered the killing techniques of Chinese martial arts! Let the whole world see that Chinese martial arts are not just for show, but the most advanced and powerful combat techniques in the world!"