Chapter 004: Cultivation Officially Begins!

Skill: [Tai Chi Boxing LV0 (0/100)]

He had only just taken a hot shower at his second uncle’s house—how had he suddenly unlocked a skill, and such a common one as Tai Chi Boxing at that? The skill level was zero, proficiency also zero. Clearly, he hadn’t even entered the basics; it was simply that this line of basic information had been added to his attribute panel.

His second uncle, tall and thin, with dark skin and slightly flushed cheeks, sat on a wooden-backed chair, holding half a cup of watered-down rice wine. He brought it to his lips and took a small sip.

Chen Anquan shifted his gaze away from the old-fashioned color television and looked at his uncle, who was still drinking and eating. Noticing that the chair his uncle sat on was the same wooden one he remembered from childhood, he thought nothing of it. Instead, he grabbed a heavy red plastic bucket and stepped out the door.

The pace of life in the mountain village was slow. It often took an hour just to finish a meal, and doing laundry or cooking breakfast could easily occupy the entire morning.

Carrying the bucket, Chen Anquan walked out into the yard and looked to the left. In the corner beneath the left wall was a small pond, about a square meter wide, filled with crystal-clear water. A plastic hose lay above the pond, its open end lacking a faucet.

Water streamed ceaselessly from the hose, and as the pond overflowed, droplets trickled onto the ground, creating a constant, splashing sound.

A small wooden stool stood at the edge of the pond, beside which lay a yellow bar of soap and a flat shoe brush.

Suppressing his urge to practice, Chen Anquan walked to the pond, set the bucket down, and directed the hose into it.

Splash, splash, splash.

The clothes in the red bucket gradually floated up, becoming saturated with water.

In front of the main house, at the center of the yard, stood a small kitchen. His second aunt emerged from it, having heard the sound of running water. Seeing Chen Anquan preparing to do laundry, she called, “Anquan, we don’t have a washing machine here—everything is done by hand. Just leave your clothes there, I’ll come wash them later.”

Slightly surprised, Chen Anquan turned to his aunt, who was passing by. “It’s fine, I can do my own laundry.”

Without replying, his aunt entered the main room. She cast a glance at his uncle, still drinking. “Anquan, tonight you’ll sleep in Zhengzheng’s room. Go tidy it up later.”

Zhengzheng was his cousin’s nickname; his real name was Li Anzheng, the eldest son of his uncle and aunt.

His uncle grinned, sipped his wine, and replied drunkenly, “Alright, alright.”

Half an hour later, Chen Anquan finally finished washing his three pieces of clothing and hung them on a steel wire in the yard. Doing his own laundry took a lot of time; in the past, he’d just toss his clothes in the washing machine and go do something else.

Night fell.

While Chen Anquan was doing laundry, his uncle had already tidied up Li Anzheng’s room. Tidying up simply meant straightening the previously disheveled, yellowed mosquito net, smoothing out the wrinkled sheets. As for the blanket and pillow, they remained unchanged.

His uncle told him, “Your cousin only slept in this bed once—it's not dirty at all.”

Chen Anquan said nothing in response. The feeling of living under someone else’s roof was far from pleasant.

For as long as he could remember, it had been his grandfather who raised him single-handedly. Not one of his uncles or aunts had offered to take him in or even provided financial or material help.

Fortunately, his grandfather was a self-reliant man who never expected his children to support him, nor did he ever ask them for anything. He made a living collecting and selling scraps in town for most of his life, until a sudden cerebral hemorrhage claimed him.

As a result, Chen Anquan grew up self-sufficient and never asked anything of others. His relationship with his uncles and aunts remained cordial, not hostile.

If not for the fact that his grandfather had left the key to the old family home with his uncle, and that the old house was filled with decades’ worth of accumulated belongings, Chen Anquan would not have chosen to stay with them.

The door to the room was now shut.

Chen Anquan stood in the cramped space, arms outstretched, measuring it. A huge wooden bed, who knows how many years old, occupied nearly the entire room, leaving barely a meter-wide space for him to practice Tai Chi.

He pulled out his phone, opened a short video app, and searched for “Tai Chi Boxing.”

Soon, he found plenty of instructional videos—even tutorials from the current generation heir of the Chen-style Tai Chi!

“I learned Tai Chi in school. Getting started should be easy enough,” he thought. Though he had already forgotten everything from those lessons two years after graduation, recalling only the names of a few moves.

He began to imitate the movements from the videos. Luckily, since he had learned them before, it wasn’t too difficult to pick up.

An hour passed.

His legs grew sore and swollen. Chen Anquan had practiced several sets along with the instructional videos.

He opened his attribute panel in his mind:

Name: Chen Anquan

Age: 24

Strength: 1.21

Agility: 1

Spirit: 1

Constitution: 0.83

Unused Attribute Points: 0.01

Skill: [Tai Chi Boxing LV0 (5/100)]

Looking at the tiny increase—only 0.01 attribute points, and his Tai Chi proficiency had grown by just 5—Chen Anquan felt a wave of discouragement.

An entire hour, and just such a minuscule improvement?

If it took this long to become a mighty warrior who could shatter prison walls with a single punch, would it not take decades?

No! Gritting his teeth, Chen Anquan resolved to keep practicing. “I must continue!”

Tai Chi Boxing is a traditional martial art that cultivates both mind and body, combining the principles of yin and yang, the five elements, and traditional Chinese medicine meridians. It is an art that balances inner and outer strength, hard and soft.

Simply put, Tai Chi is mainly for health and wellness. As for real fighting, you’d be better off learning Muay Thai, Wing Chun, or Taekwondo.

Chen Anquan was not greedy for more. Now that he had chosen to focus on Tai Chi, he was determined to master it—to reach level one before considering any other skills.

He continued to imitate the videos for another two hours. Because the room was so cramped, he couldn’t fully extend his arms and legs, so his movements were neither entirely standard nor fluid.

Aches swept through his body, especially in his knees, which felt like bearings that had been twisted over and over, growing hot. Chen Anquan realized he couldn’t keep going.

At work, he’d seen many elderly men and women who, after practicing Tai Chi incorrectly or for too long, suffered meniscus wear in both knees and ended up in constant pain.

It would be a shame to injure his knees before even mastering the basics of Tai Chi!

It was early October. The days in the south were sultry, while the nights held a faint, chill breeze.