Meng Ahnan struggled to follow.
"Sink your body down, keep your spine straight, don't collapse your waist like withered crops."
"What about your hands? Hold them at your navel, don't let them swing around, or you'll lose your breath."
After Seventh finished speaking, he set up a stance, standing on the freezing field ridge, his whole body loose and slack, with not a bit of a martial artist's posture, looking like he might topple over at any moment.
"Just stand like this, don't think about anything else. If you can stand for the duration of an incense stick, you're at the Entry Level."
"Remember, keep your body loose, let your spirit settle, like the wheat in the field, digging its roots deep so it won't fear the northwest wind."
After teaching, he carefully offered a fawning smile to the overseer:
"Sir, it's done."
"Hmm."
The overseer waved his hand weakly, laconically saying:
