45 Training (1/2)

There were many techniques to choose from, so I had to select only the crucial ones. I decided to train spinning, twisting, and shooting, and to attempt to learn the Extending Slice form if I still had time.

Spinning was the first technique to learn. I had little space in my room, so I stepped out into the front garden. I practiced whirling my qi whip by my side and found it more difficult that it looked.

I had used a skipping rope in my past life, so getting it going wasn't too hard. But my wrist wasn't flexible enough to spin the whip parallel to my body.

As well as that, whenever the whip built to a good speed, my coordination failed me, and the whip went slack. Until night fell, I practiced spinning a five-foot whip in slow, deliberate circles, stretching out my wrist.

Now I needed to figure out how to spend my nights. First off was learning the second stage of the Embryonic Breathing Technique: Mingmen Breathing.

According to the book, the Mingmen point was located in the lower back, behind the kidneys. Mingmen breathing involved pulling that point in, along with your abdomen and perineum, on each inhale.

It was incredibly uncomfortable, and my back felt tense. I realised that when I practised Reverse Abdominal Breathing, I often pushed my back out to compensate for my compressed abdomen.

Starting small, I isolated the Mingmen point, disregarding my abdomen and perineum. Breathing while pulling it in was tough and tense, and for the first few hours, I couldn't relax into meditation.

But after a while, it became more comfortable, and I could bring my focus to the lower dantian and meditate. I recovered qi slower than when using Reverse Abdominal Breathing, but I knew that combining the two would be powerful.

Countless breath cycles later, my body overflowed with qi. My soul was nearly full when I started, so I had been practicing Soul Expansion at the same time.

With this overflowing qi, I decided to practice holding my qi in the lower dantian. Before morning came, I spent my time learning how to hold my qi there with a tensed core.

When dawn broke, I made my way to the back patio. It was so early that father hadn't started practicing, so I had free reign to train.

My goal for now was to be able to spin the whip at a good speed, parallel to my body. By the time Father joined me, I could comfortably spin at just over half the speed that Crow had shown when he slowed down to demonstrate for me.

Father's face beamed in delight when he saw me practicing outside. I could tell that this was something he had always wanted; to train alongside his son.

We took opposite ends of the patio, facing out over the cliffs, basking in the morning sun. We practiced without saying a word, absorbed in the experience.

After Father finished his routine we went in for breakfast. We were both ravenous from our exercise and devoured our food, while Mother surveyed the scene with a contented smile.

Father worked in the study while I continued to train out the back. My training was tiring, but whenever I couldn't continue, I meditated instead.

Father often took short breaks from his work to come out into the back patio and watch. Despite saying that he couldn't teach me how to use a whip, he often gave helpful pointers.

He must have learned a lot from sparring with Crow; the two seemed to have a long history. By the end of my first day, I was comfortable spinning for up to ten minutes.

The following days continued in a similar fashion, and the time flew by. When dawn arrived on the second day, I could fully perform Mingmen breathing, and the results were as outstanding as expected.

I could regenerate around 100 qi an hour, so a full night of meditation completely replenished my soul. Full Mingmen Breathing still felt uncomfortable, so there was room for improvement.

By that evening, my spinning became fluid and automatic. The whip still wasn't parallel to my body, but I realised that increasing my wrist's flexibility would only come with time.

That night, I succeeded in keeping qi in my lower dantian while tensing my core. I could now perform slow movements filled with intent, emitting qi bursts of qi.

After father finished his training the next morning, I demonstrated this new found skill. He told me that it resembled a martial technique called Qi Gong, which was popular in the central academies.

During this third day, I attempted to learn twisting. With no prior experience, this was far more challenging that spinning. I only managed one stunted twist by the time evening came.

While performing Mingmen breathing that night, I realised that my body's capacity for qi had dramatically increased. It could now contain 150 soul force before overflowing.