Chapter 18: 【Deducible martial art detected: "Dark Eagle Stance." Initiate deduction?】

Chatting as they walked, the two returned to the front courtyard.

At some point, Mei Shuangfeng had changed into a clean, sharp set of martial garb.

Xu Chuan took one look and immediately excused himself.

Once he was gone, Mei Shuangfeng tossed over an exquisitely embroidered brocade pouch:

"The balance I owed you from yesterday. Open it and count it yourself."

Shen Xiuhan caught it, pulled the pouch open for a glance, and tucked it safely away. He cupped his fist: "Thank you, Master."

"A fair transaction — no thanks needed."

Mei Shuangfeng stood with hands behind her back:

"In the early stages of learning martial arts, the foundation is everything. I'll personally instruct you these first few days."

"I'm grateful for Master's trouble!"

Warmth kindled in Shen Xiuhan's chest.

When Chen An had spoken about studying martial arts a few days ago, claiming he wasn't envious would have been a lie.

And yesterday, witnessing firsthand Mei Shuangfeng's unfathomable movement across the ice, his longing for the martial path had peaked.

Now, at last, his wish was being fulfilled.

"Building a martial foundation begins with nourishing qi and blood."

Mei Shuangfeng's gaze settled on him, her voice clear and cool as a spring. "But how does one nourish the blood?"

"First, you must employ stance arts to guide the blood back to the meridians and sense the flow of qi and blood. Then expand the circuit, until the qi and blood surge and roar, boiling hot as broth — that is the martial way!"

The moment the words left her lips—

Mei Shuangfeng tapped the ground lightly with her toes, and her form shot skyward like a hunting hawk, soaring several zhang high!

As she descended, her arms extended forward, level with her shoulders, all ten fingers hooked into talons, the laogong points at the center of each palm facing one another across the distance.

Her internal energy gathered inward, focus locked on both claws. Her entire body froze into a strange, striking stance frame.

"This is the Mei Martial Hall's 'Dark Eagle Stance' — inspired by the principle: 'The dark eagle commands the heavens, shatters bone, and seizes the dragon!'"

Mei Shuangfeng's crystalline voice cut through the howling wind like a raptor's cry piercing the highest sky.

Her form began to shift through the stance positions in a seamless, flowing sequence, one form melding into the next.

"When holding a stance, never stand stiff as dead wood — rigid and lifeless!"

"Transform palms into talons! Drive the force through to your fingertips! Focus your mind and settle your breath!"

"Visualize a thousand-pound stone slab before your chest. Under the clamping pressure of both talons, inch it upward to chest height. When the laogong points (Acupoint at center of palm) begin to burn and swell with a scalding ache, bring the hands inward..."

Right in the middle of Mei Shuangfeng's demonstration, something flashed across Shen Xiuhan's vision:

【Deducible martial art detected: "Dark Eagle Stance." Initiate deduction?】

Hm?

Deduction...

The system triggered?!

Shen Xiuhan's heart skipped a beat. Without a moment's hesitation, he willed the command silently:

'Deduce!'

【...Insufficient intelligence accumulated. Fifteen days required before deduction can be unlocked.】

No surprise there...

Shen Xiuhan pressed his lips together.

Still...

Though "Deduction" couldn't be used yet, the encounter wasn't without reward.

Within Shen Xiuhan's field of vision, each time Mei Shuangfeng demonstrated a stance frame, the system imprinted it — like a rubbing taken from a stone tablet — capturing a figure composed of pale gold light points in flawless, exact detail!

One form, two forms, three forms...

A full twenty-eight intricate stance frames, every last one etched into his sight.

Mei Shuangfeng finished the sequence and stood still, drawing breath into her core. Her chest and abdomen swelled, and she expelled a long, dense stream of white vapor that shot three feet like a blade.

Her phoenix eyes turned, settling on Shen Xiuhan standing rooted to the spot:

"Your turn."

"Walk through what I just showed you. This stance art is arcane — it's no matter if you can't memorize it all. However many frames you can imitate, that's however many count."

Shen Xiuhan cleared the thoughts from his mind and cupped his fist, voice low and steady:

"...Understood!"

He stepped onto the wooden training post and began replicating the stance forms from the pale gold silhouettes imprinted in his mind.

He'd expected it to be a simple matter of copying the answer key.

But the moment he actually settled into the positions, he discovered that these seemingly simple postures were fiendishly difficult!

Every muscle in his body wound tight as twisted rope, pulling against one another — shoulder blades, core, thighs, ankles — every joint locked in a tug-of-war.

It felt as though countless invisible threads were yanking at his sinews and bones from every direction.

He barely managed to hold the third frame before his entire body screamed with splitting soreness. His legs buckled, and he toppled off the post with a thud.

"Hm, not bad." Mei Shuangfeng gave a slight nod: "Holding three frames on your very first attempt at stance training places you solidly in the upper tier for this hall."

That counted as upper tier?

Shen Xiuhan caught his breath, wiped the sweat from his brow, and asked: "Master, how many frames did the senior brothers and sisters manage on their first try?"

"All six inner-court disciples held three or more."

Mei Shuangfeng stood with hands clasped behind her: "Overthinking is pointless. The martial path above all else forbids impatience."

"Master these three frames today. Add two or three each day, and within ten days you'll be able to perform a complete set. At that point, you can begin trying to sense your qi and blood."

"Yes, Master!"

Mei Shuangfeng watched him run through the three frames twice more, his movements growing more fluid each time. She nodded in satisfaction:

"Go train with the others."

The master opens the door; the student walks the path.

After Mei Shuangfeng departed, Shen Xiuhan drilled the frames three more times.

By now, he had a sober assessment of his own aptitude.

Four words summed it up.

Utterly unremarkable.

If he progressed by the book, it would likely take four or five months before he could sense his qi and blood.

Which meant...

Stockpiling "Intelligence" to fuel the deduction of the Dark Eagle Stance was now an urgent priority.

He didn't yet know what "Deduction" did exactly, but the name alone suggested it was some form of simulated practice — deepening one's comprehension of a martial art's true essence.

For him, that would be nothing short of a heaven-defying weapon for rewriting his fate!

Of course, he couldn't slack on his actual stance training during the accumulation period.

If he spent every day looking idle, then suddenly made a massive leap, it would inevitably raise suspicion.

With that thought, Shen Xiuhan gritted his teeth, climbed back onto the training post, and resumed drilling!

Over two hours passed.

Following the other outer-court disciples' example, Shen Xiuhan alternated — one full set, then a rest.

By the end of the morning, his progress was faster than he'd expected.

The first three frames were completely mastered, and he'd already begun attempting the fourth.

This bit-by-bit improvement fueled his drive, and he threw himself into the training wholeheartedly.

He lost track of time, until Xu Chuan's booming voice suddenly rang across the courtyard:

"Lunchtime!"

The moment the call sounded, the outer-court disciples stopped in twos and threes.

Some gathered to chat; others drifted toward the center of the yard.

Before long, several disciples emerged from the inner courtyard carrying enormous bamboo steamers.

The steamers were set down in the middle of the yard. The lids came off, and a cloud of hot steam billowed up in a white fog.

A rich, heady scent of wheat filled the air in an instant.

Inside the steamers, big white steamed buns made from fine sorghum flour sat plump and pillowy — a sight to set the mouth watering.

The entire outer court swarmed around them at once.

"Two per person — no grabbing extra! If that's not enough, eat the rations you brought..."

Xu Chuan stood in front of the steamers brandishing a whip, bellowing at the top of his lungs like a shepherd minding his flock.

The tuition the disciples paid to the hall included one lunch.

But martial practitioners burned through enormous amounts of energy tempering their bodies — two steamed buns were nowhere near enough to fill the belly.

So everyone brought their own rations.

But dry rations couldn't hold a candle to these piping hot white buns.

"Junior Brother Shen, here are yours."

Plenty remained in the steamer. Xu Chuan handed him four buns with an easy grin:

"New disciples usually don't know to bring their own food, so on the first day there's a special allowance — two extra buns. But starting tomorrow, you'll have to sort it out yourself."

Shen Xiuhan's eyes lit up. He reached out eagerly and cupped his fist: "Thank you, Senior Brother."

"What are you thanking me for? This is Master's rule."

"Then thank Master for her kindness."

"Haha, you little rascal!"