Chapter 24 The God in the Fist

"...Please, come in."

An Qisheng snapped out of it, forcing a smile as he invited Wang Zhixuan into the house.

Afterward, he poured two cups of tea and handed one to Wang Zhixuan:

"I haven't had visitors in a long time. Please excuse my poor hospitality, Dr. Wang."

"I don't drink tea. Pour me a glass of water."

Wang Zhixuan removed her sunglasses and leaned back on the sofa as she spoke.

An Qisheng went to get her a glass of water, and she finally took it:

"I've never drunk anything but water since I was a child."

"Oh."

An Qisheng wasn't surprised. Many martial artists had their quirks.

Some, like Liu Xian, ate anything and everything, while others, like Feng Mingtao, were very particular about hygiene. Not drinking tea wasn't that strange.

"Dr. Wang, what exactly do you mean by 'god'?"

An Qisheng put down his teacup and asked.

"Your boxing is very beautiful. It's more standard than that of many old masters, but you don't seem like a martial artist."

Wang Zhixuan took a sip of water, her narrow, phoenix eyes piercing An Qisheng like knives:

"Practicing boxing requires not only diligence but also immersion."

"The so-called 'god in the fist' is your personal mark. Many people practice Gu Men Mind Intent Fist, but there is no second Master Gu, nor can anyone else perform Master Gu's Gu Men Mind Intent Fist."

Wang Zhixuan said calmly:

"Only a boxing style with your own distinct imprint is truly your own. Otherwise, no matter how much you imitate, it's not your own."

"My own imprint..."

An Qisheng's heart stirred.

He thought of Wang Honglin, whose Bajiquan had reached its peak, each punch and kick carrying the force of collapsing mountains and sinking land.

And on Mount Wudang, when Daoist Juechen stepped out and threw a punch, it was like the Thunder God dispensing punishment, fierce and domineering.

These were the gods in the fist?

Then, what was the god in Mu Longcheng's fist like?

"What was your original intention in practicing boxing?"

Wang Zhixuan didn't stop, continuing to ask.

"Original intention..."

An Qisheng fell into thought.

In his previous life, he learned boxing initially for self-protection, to avoid being bullied by street thugs, and later he slowly made money from it.

In this life, he initially didn't want to waste his boxing skills from his previous life, and he focused more on how to make money.

What truly made him pick up boxing again was the possibility that it might cure his illness.

As An Qisheng pondered, Wang Zhixuan remained unhurried, taking out a nail clipper and slowly trimming her nails.

After thinking for a long, long time, An Qisheng finally looked up:

"It should be to survive."

"If kung fu can't help you survive, would you still learn it?"

Wang Zhixuan asked again.

"Maybe I would, maybe I wouldn't."

An Qisheng nodded and then shook his head.

"Martial arts are extremely popular in Da Xuan, but most people still don't want to learn kung fu, either because it's hard, tiring, or expensive, or perhaps because they feel it's useless."

"No one is born loving kung fu. Kung fu and boxing are only favored because they are useful, and they are no different from other tools."

Wang Zhixuan lightly flicked her nails:

"You didn't lie to me, which is good."

"I can deceive you, but I can't deceive myself."

An Qisheng held his teacup and took a light sip, the bitter taste flowing into his throat.

"Your original intention in learning boxing doesn't matter, and whether it changes is irrelevant. What matters is that you engrave your imprint on your boxing style, and unswervingly carry out your beliefs."

Wang Zhixuan said calmly:

"You want to survive. If others don't let you live, then what should you do?"

Not let me live?

An Qisheng lowered his eyes, and many images seemed to flash through his mind.

In his previous life in China, and in this life in Da Xuan, the people living on this land were the most hard-working.

They lived very simply, able to endure oppression, exploitation, and material and spiritual emptiness.

But if anyone tried to stop them from living...

Whether it was landlords, gentry, emperors, generals, or even earthquakes and natural disasters, they would fight to the end!

As if only for a moment, An Qisheng raised his head again, and the light in his calm eyes seemed to grow brighter and brighter:

"If anyone doesn't let me live, I'll make them die!"

"Very good!"

Wang Zhixuan snapped her fingers.

"Remember this feeling. Every punch you throw in the future must have the determination and will to fight against fate!"

"You!"

As Wang Zhixuan's fingers snapped, An Qisheng's body trembled, and he stood up abruptly, his face looking unwell:

"You hypnotized me?!"

"Your mental strength is indeed extraordinary. I almost couldn't hypnotize you."

Wang Zhixuan took out a tissue and wiped the sweat from her forehead:

"Hypnotizing you is more tiring than beating Dan Zhuang to death!"

Wang Zhixuan was slightly surprised in her heart.

Her hypnosis had been building up for a long time, from the applause outside the courtyard, the footsteps, the attack, to the present, and yet An Qisheng had almost broken free.

"Then I should thank you."

An Qisheng slowly sat down.

Although he hadn't suffered any harm, the feeling of suddenly being hypnotized was certainly not pleasant.

"Your mental strength is very strong. The hypnosis didn't achieve the desired effect, which is a pity."

Wang Zhixuan didn't care about An Qisheng's attitude, saying slowly:

"I didn't believe it when I heard it from Old Daoist Juechen, but now it seems that you are indeed a genius. If you can find the god in the fist, you have hope of forming the dan (achieving immortality)."

People with innate divine strength were rare, but those with mental abilities beyond the ordinary were even rarer.

The former had a great advantage in the early stages of martial arts, while the latter, although not obvious at first, was much more important than the former when it came to Transforming Strength.

"Daoist Juechen..."

An Qisheng took a deep breath and picked up his teacup:

"If Dr. Wang has nothing else, I need to practice boxing. I will repay your guidance another day."

"You're already chasing me away?"

Wang Zhixuan snorted lightly, stood up, and glanced at An Qisheng:

"People who want me to hypnotize them could line up from Mo Du to Xuanjing, and you're not happy?"

"I just don't like it."

An Qisheng stood up.

He understood hypnosis to some extent. Unless it reached the level of Mu Longcheng, ordinary hypnosis wouldn't cause any danger.

But people under hypnosis were likely to reveal some of their secrets.

Although Wang Zhixuan meant well, it wasn't very acceptable to someone like him with so many secrets.

"Whether you like it or not is up to you."

Wang Zhixuan shook her trench coat, put on her sunglasses, and pushed open the door.

When An Qisheng followed her out, Wang Zhixuan had already walked into the snow.

As if knowing that An Qisheng would follow, her voice drifted over from afar:

"In a few days, I have a mission. Come with me!"

"This woman..."

An Qisheng rubbed his brow.

Although he didn't like being hypnotized, he couldn't not repay her guidance.

However, he would have to return this hypnosis sooner or later.

An Qisheng walked into the courtyard.

The snow was still heavy, but he seemed oblivious to it, constantly replaying the scene that had appeared in his mind during Wang Zhixuan's hypnosis:

"The god in the fist..."