The frost at Mao Shi still clung to the dark-colored mountain tops, and Li Mengyang was already standing under the old locust tree.
He was wearing short brown clothes that had been washed white, and his trousers were rolled up to his knees, revealing his strong calves with exposed grass clippings on them. The morning light had just passed over the Eagle Beak Cliff in the east, stretching his shadow very long and casting it on the flat bluestone slab at the foot of the cliff - this was the place where he practiced boxing. The slab was covered with indentations of varying depths, the deepest of which was as deep as a knuckle, which he had polished with his iron sand palm last year.
"Huh——"
The breath is like an arrow, carrying the coolness of the morning. Li Mengyang dropped his shoulders and elbows, slowly clenched his right fist, and his finger bones made a fine crisp sound. He practices the "Shou Xin Fist" taught by his master. The moves are simple and unpretentious, just like the old locust tree at the entrance of the village, unobtrusive but deeply rooted. Master said that boxing is an external skill, while the heart is an internal skill. To practice boxing, you must first cultivate the mind. If the mind is not calm, the boxing will scatter, just like a candle in the wind. It looks bright but will be extinguished when blown.
