29: Chapter 29. Morning exercise in the neighborhood startles the old man walking his dog.

Section 1: Fist Shadows in the Morning Light

The old neighborhood where Chen Wu lived had no elevator; half-bags of unfinished rice and a few empty cardboard boxes were always piled at the seventh-floor stairwell corner. As he went downstairs, Auntie Zhang from the third floor was walking up with a vegetable basket. Her eyes lit up when she saw him: "Xiao Wu, not going to the Foundation today?"

"Taking a day off at home." Chen Wu stepped aside to let her pass. A faint smell of cooking oil lingered at the tip of his nose—it was the aroma of fried eggs from Auntie Zhang's house, mixed with the damp smell of mold in the hallway. This was the most authentic atmosphere of the mundane world.

Ever since he initiated into Baji Fist, he always felt that the "Qi" in his body was too fierce, like an unsharpened blade that needed to be tempered more in the hustle and bustle of daily life. Lin Xue said this was a normal phenomenon during the "Energy Purification Period" and suggested he interact more with the lives of ordinary people to neutralize his excessive sharpness with daily trivialities.

In the neighborhood's central garden, quite a few people were already doing their morning exercises. Old ladies in Tai Chi suits were practicing the Simplified 24-form, with music drifting from square dancing speakers playing a slightly out-of-tune "Butterfly Lovers"; a few old men were gathered around a stone table practicing Taiji Pushing Hands, their arms slowly tracing circles, looking as if they were just idling; the most boisterous area was the fitness equipment section, where several half-grown children were flipping around on the horizontal bars, startling a nearby grandpa who was stretching his legs into shouting, "Slow down!"

Chen Wu found a deserted spot under the shade of a tree. There was a faint water stain on the ground—likely left by last night's rain. He moved his wrists but didn't start his routine immediately; instead, he began the Horse Stance Stance Training of Baji Fist. With his feet shoulder-width apart, knees bent until his thighs were parallel to the ground, and hands held in front of his chest with palms loosely cupped, he looked as if he were holding an invisible ball.

Just as he settled in, he felt the dampness from the ground crawling up through his Yongquan Point, colliding with the "Qi" in his Dantian and stirring a slight numbness. He adjusted his breathing according to the formula in the Essentials of Baji Fist, inhaling and exhaling through his nose in a slow and long manner. With every exhale, he felt his body sink a bit, like a plumb weight dropping into water.

"Hey, young man, are you new here?" An aged voice sounded nearby.

Chen Wu opened his eyes and saw an old man wearing a military-green vest, holding a half-grown Golden Retriever on a leash, looking at him with great interest. The old man's vest was washed out to a pale color, and there were a few faint scars on his exposed arms, seemingly left from his youth.

"Yeah, just practicing in front of my home." Chen Wu smiled, without stopping his Stance Training.

The old man clicked his tongue in wonder: "Your posture is quite standard. Have you practiced Baji Fist? I saw it in the army when I was young. That Horse Stance was so solid they could stand for two hours without moving."

The Golden Retriever approached, sniffing Chen Wu's pant leg, then suddenly shrank back, tucking its tail and hiding behind the old man, letting out a low whimper from its throat.

"What's wrong?" The old man patted the dog's head. "You're usually friendly with everyone. Did you have a change of heart today?"

Chen Wu's heart stirred. He could "listen" to the Golden Retriever's rapid heartbeat, and its pupils reflected the faint golden light on his body—this was the manifestation of "Qi" flowing. Ordinary people couldn't see it, but animals had sharper perception.

"Maybe it's the smell of sweat on me." Chen Wu casually made up an excuse, but his attention was focused on the soles of his feet. After the brief conversation, he suddenly felt the connection between his "Qi" and the ground grow tighter, as if countless fine needles were piercing into the soil from his soles, steadily channeling power deep into the earth.

Was this the "polishing in the mundane world" Lin Xue had mentioned? In a casual chat with an ordinary person, his overly tense "Qi" actually relaxed, finding a more natural way to flow.

Section 2: Fallen Leaves in the Fist Wind

Chen Wu stood in his stance for half an hour. Beads of sweat from his forehead dripped onto the ground, blooming into small dots, yet his vest remained dry—it had all been evaporated into white mist by the "Qi" within his body. He slowly finished his form, feeling his legs sore yet full of power, as if they were filled with lead, yet also hiding springs.

"Time for some movement." He threw a few punches at the air, feeling the trajectory of "Qi" surging through his Meridians. The Eight Great Openings of Baji Fist surfaced clearly in his mind; he knew the power point, turning angle, and breathing rhythm of every move like the back of his hand.

He didn't choose the fierce Open Gate Elbow Strike but started from the most basic Cross Fist. Stepping forward half a step with his left foot, he kept his center of gravity on his back leg, crossed his fists in front of his chest, and then suddenly swung them out to both sides. The resulting wind swept up several fallen leaves from the ground.

"Whoosh!"

The fist wind swept past his ears, letting out a slight whistle. Chen Wu could "listen" to the sound of his fists breaking through the air and "see" the fallen leaves forming a small vortex under the pull of the wind. This was the first time he had practiced Baji Fist in such a mundane setting—without the enhancement of the bronze tripod or the gaze of a global live stream. There were only elderly people exercising, children playing, and a Golden Retriever hiding behind a tree to peek.

But strangely, in this environment, his fist techniques lost a bit of deliberateness and gained a bit of ease. When he performed the Overturning Block Punch, the rotation of his wrists was natural, as if he weren't practicing a punch but wringing out a towel. When he used the Rising Sun Hand, the "Qi" in his palm was slightly released, just enough to avoid a child running over to pick up a ball, neither hurting the child nor interrupting his own momentum.

"Good!" the dog-walking old man suddenly cheered. "That punch has some real power! It's much better than those flashy styles in the park!"

Chen Wu's movements paused briefly. He smiled at the old man and continued his routine. Sunlight filtered through the gaps in the leaves and shone on him, stretching his fist shadows long, falling onto the stone table, the lawn, and the smiling faces of the children.

When he performed the Ground-to-Heaven Cannon, his right fist surged upward. The resulting fierce wind suddenly swept all the surrounding fallen leaves into the air, forming a rotating ring above his head before scattering with a "crash" like a golden rain.

This scene happened to be captured by several young people filming short videos. On their phone screens, Chen Wu's figure moved through the rain of fallen leaves, his fist wind sharp and his posture steady, looking like a scene from a Wuxia movie.

"Holy crap! Is this a special effect?" a young man wearing a peaked cap whispered, his fingers quickly tapping the screen. "There's no filter added!"

The dog-walking old man was also stunned, even letting the leash go slack. The Golden Retriever took the opportunity to run to Chen Wu's feet. This time it didn't hide but wagged its tail and rubbed against his pant leg, letting out a pleasing whimper.

"This... this is real kung fu!" The old man's voice trembled. "Even the Baji Fist Great Master I saw in the army back then didn't have this kind of skill!"

Chen Wu finished his routine and stood still. The fallen leaves above his head had just finished falling, and not a single one had landed on him. He could feel the "Qi" inside his body was more harmonious than before, with softness within the fierceness—like steel soaked in warm water, still hard but with a bit more resilience.

"You flatter me, Grandpa. It's just practice makes perfect." Chen Wu wiped his sweat, his gaze falling on the young people filming the video. "Don't post it online. Just act like you didn't see anything."

The young people nodded one after another, yet they couldn't help but continue filming secretly—a "folk expert" of this level was something one could only hope for but not seek out.

Section 3: "Qi" on the Stone Table

The morning exercisers gradually gathered, forming several layers around Chen Wu. The old ladies doing Tai Chi forgot their movements, the old men playing cards put down their hands, and even the children from the fitness area ran over, squeezing to the front to watch the excitement.

"Young man, how about showing us a few more moves?" An old man wearing reading glasses stepped forward, leaning on a cane. "I also practiced Xingyi Fist for a few days when I was young, but I've never seen such agile moves as yours."

Chen Wu was about to refuse when his eyes caught the walnuts in the dog-walking old man's hand—they were a pair of Lion's Head walnuts that had been played with for over a decade, with a ruddy patina. At this moment, they were being unconsciously squeezed in the old man's hand, letting out a "crackling" sound.

"How about I try this?" Chen Wu pointed to an empty bottle on the stone table—it was a glass bottle someone had finished and left behind, with a bit of beer foam still at the mouth.

"Try what? Opening the bottle with your fist?" The young man in the peaked cap became interested. "I've seen people splitting bricks with their palms, but this is the first time I've seen someone opening a beer bottle!"

Chen Wu didn't speak. He just walked to the stone table and placed his right index finger lightly on the edge of the bottle's mouth. He could "listen" to the vibration of the glass molecules and "see" the weakest point of the bottle—three centimeters below the neck, where there was a bubble almost invisible to the naked eye.

"Watch closely."

His fingertip applied slight pressure, and the "Qi" within his body surged toward his fingertip along his Meridians, forming an extremely thin current of air. Without any earth-shattering sound or even any obvious movement, the beer bottle suddenly snapped at the neck. The cut was as clean as if it had been sliced by a laser, and the body of the bottle stood steadily on the stone table without falling.

"!!!"

The onlookers collectively sucked in a breath of cold air, even their breathing stopping. It was so quiet by the stone table that the sound of wind blowing through the leaves could be heard. A few seconds later, a thunderous cheer erupted.

"My goodness! What kind of kung fu is this? Turning stone into gold?"

"His finger is faster than a knife! What just happened?"

"I recorded it! Let's watch it in slow motion!"

"Don't push, don't push! Let me film too!"

The dog-walking old man's hand holding the walnuts froze in mid-air, his mouth wide enough to fit an egg. "This... is this the One-Finger Acupoint Strike skill? I've only heard of it in storytelling!"

Chen Wu smiled, picked up the broken bottle neck, and held it up to the sunlight. "It's not an acupoint strike; it's an application of 'Qi.' It's like using a high-pressure water jet to cut steel; I just used 'Qi' to cut the glass."

Fearing they wouldn't believe him, he picked up another empty bottle. This time he didn't use his finger but gently blew a breath of air toward the bottle's mouth. The air current was laden with a faint "Qi," and the bottle similarly snapped at the neck with an equally clean cut.

"This, this, this..." The old man in reading glasses was so excited he couldn't speak, his cane thumping the ground. "It's Internal Power! It's definitely Internal Power! The long-lost Internal Power!"

Chen Wu didn't explain. He knew that "Qi" and Internal Power were essentially the same thing, just with different names. In this mundane neighborhood garden, using the more down-to-earth term Internal Power might be easier to accept than Quantum Listening Force.

Section 4: The Old Man's "Consultation"

The crowd gradually dispersed, with those who needed to buy groceries going to buy groceries and those who needed to take their children to school taking them. Only Chen Wu, the dog-walking old man, and the young people still repeatedly watching the video remained by the stone table.

"Young man, can I ask you something?" The old man tied the Golden Retriever to a tree and walked up to Chen Wu, rubbing his hands. His attitude was much more respectful than before. "Can this kung fu of yours be taught to ordinary people?"

"Sure." Chen Wu nodded. "Actually, I teach basic Stance Training in a live stream every day. If you're interested, Grandpa, you can check it out."

"Live stream?" The old man was stunned for a moment, then waved his hand. "I can't handle those things. I just wanted to ask if practicing this kung fu can strengthen the body. My old arms and legs... when my arthritis flares up, it hurts so much I can't sleep."

Chen Wu looked at the old man's slightly swollen knees and could "listen" to the dry sound of joint friction. He reached out his hand, palm facing the old man's knee. Without making contact, he just let a faint "Qi" flow over.

"Try this."

The old man didn't feel anything at first, but after dozens of seconds, he suddenly let out an "Eh?": "It seems... not so painful? It's warm and quite comfortable."

"This is the nourishment of 'Qi'." Chen Wu withdrew his hand. "You don't need to practice anything complicated. Just do the Horse Stance for ten minutes every day. Make sure your knees don't go past your toes; it's good for arthritis."

As he spoke, he demonstrated for the old man: "Feet apart, shoulder-width, squat down slowly... Right, keep your waist straight, don't slouch... Imagine there's a stool under your buttocks and you're sitting on it..."

The old man learned very seriously. Although he was wobbling and his knees were shaking like a sieve, he persisted for a full two minutes. When he stopped, fine sweat had broken out on his forehead, but he grinned. "It really works! My legs feel warm, much more comfortable than using a medicated patch!"

The young people also started to follow along. Although their postures were different and wobbly, no one laughed at each other. The Golden Retriever ran around nearby, occasionally sniffing everyone's feet as if checking who was standing more correctly.

The sun rose higher, and more people appeared in the neighborhood. Young people on their way to work were in a hurry, the milk delivery tricycle jingled, and the breakfast stalls wafted the aroma of deep-fried dough sticks and soy milk. Looking at all this, Chen Wu suddenly felt the "Qi" in his body become incredibly peaceful, like the slowly flowing small river at the neighborhood entrance—no turbulent waves, but possessing the power to nourish all things.

"Young man, what's your name?" The old man tied his dog's leash, preparing to go home.

"IHis name is Chen Wu."

"Good name!" the old man praised. "A master of both the pen and the sword! My surname is Wang; you can just call me Grandpa Wang. Are you coming back tomorrow? I still want to learn that... Baji Fist Stance Training from you."

"I'll be here." Chen Wu nodded. "Every morning at seven, right here."

Grandpa Wang left happily, turning back every few steps as if afraid Chen Wu would run away. The Golden Retriever also looked back and wagged its tail at Chen Wu.

Chen Wu watched their retreating backs, then looked at the young people still clumsily practicing the Horse Stance, and suddenly smiled. He used to think the true essence of martial arts lay in earth-shattering duels and under the spotlight of global live streams, yet he had forgotten the simplest truth—martial arts originate from life and must ultimately return to life.

Just like this morning exercise in the neighborhood, there was no bronze tripod, no genetic warriors, only an old man who wanted to relieve his arthritis, a sensitive dog, and a few curious young people. But here, the gentleness and power displayed by martial arts were more moving than any grand live stream.

He raised his hand to check his watch; it was time to go to the Foundation. Before leaving, he blew a gentle breath toward the two broken beer bottles on the stone table. The air current, carrying "Qi," blew the glass shards from the bottle necks into the trash can, the movement as natural as brushing away dust.

Sunlight filtered through the leaves, casting dappled shadows on the ground like a silent poem. Chen Wu knew that from today on, in the morning light of this old neighborhood, there would not only be Tai Chi and square dancing but also a fist shadow and a quietly growing new legend of martial arts.