Yang An gave an honest smile, then pulled a smoothly polished wooden tablet from his robes and handed it to Yang Jing. "I was chopping trees a while back and saw this piece of wood was sturdy, so I carved a tablet for you. Take a look."
Yang Jing took the wooden tablet. It felt smooth and warm to the touch. A simple character, "Jing," was carved on it. Although the strokes were crude, it was clear that effort had been put into it.
"Thanks, Brother An."
Yang Jing put the wooden tablet away and looked at Yang An's increasingly sturdy physique. "You've been tempering your qi and blood recently, haven't you?"
Yang An nodded. "I train for two hours every morning and evening. When my arms get sore, I rest for a bit. Once I've recovered, I go back to lifting rocks."
Yang Jing nodded. An idea struck him, and he pulled Yang An into the courtyard. "Come on, Brother An. Show me your kicks."
Without a word, Yang An planted his feet firmly and kicked his knee up sharply into the air.
He put a lot of force into the movement, but his body swayed. It was clear his hips and legs weren't in sync.
Yang An must have noticed it himself. He frowned and kicked again, but the same problem persisted.
"Sink your waist, turn your hips," Yang Jing said in a low voice.
Yang An nodded hard, then froze for a moment. He looked up, a troubled expression on his face. "Brother Jing, what does 'sink your waist' mean?"
Yang Jing had a sudden realization. He'd forgotten that his cousin, Yang An, was completely self-taught, unlike him, who had joined a Martial Arts Hall and received systematic martial arts instruction.
Then, Yang Jing stood opposite Yang An and demonstrated in slow motion. "Brother An, watch closely. The power starts from your feet and travels up through your leg. Your waist has to rotate like an axle. You can't just use your leg strength."
Yang An stared intently at Yang Jing's movements, his gaze focused. He silently committed them to memory and tried a few more times.
Although he was still clumsy, he was a bit steadier than before.
He didn't speak, just practiced over and over. Beads of sweat soon appeared on his temples, but he didn't stop.
Watching his cousin's resolute spirit, Yang Jing's thoughts turned to the *Raging Waves Leg Technique* manual.
'My cousin, Yang An, has a steady temperament and often goes into the mountains to chop firewood. He's actually well-suited for practicing this kind of leg technique, which prioritizes agility.'
'However, the origins of this *Raging Waves Leg Technique* are unknown. What if it harbors some hidden danger? Or what if it's the secret martial art of a powerful family, involving some influential faction? Teaching it rashly to Yang An could do him more harm than good.'
"This is basic hip and leg training. Brother An, you should practice this for now." Yang Jing pulled his thoughts back and taught him a few breathing techniques. "Practice for an hour a day. We can talk more after you've developed your hip and leg coordination."
Yang An nodded in agreement. He didn't ask any more questions and just continued practicing his kicks. After a while, he was indeed a little steadier than before.
Yang Jing folded his arms and watched Yang An practice, offering pointers from time to time.
From the kitchen came the soft voices of his aunt and mother, mingled with the CRACKLING of firewood, creating a warm and cozy atmosphere.
As Yang Jing watched the back of his cousin practicing in silent concentration, he considered his options. 'I'll figure out the origins of the *Raging Waves Leg Technique* first. Once I'm sure it's safe, it won't be too late to teach it to Yang An. Of course, there is another way—I could have him join a Martial Arts Hall to formally and systematically study the Martial Dao.'
But the path of martial arts was a money-burning machine, something Yang Jing knew from personal experience.
He could help Yang An with the apprenticeship fee. The fees for the major Martial Arts Halls in Yuhe County were generally between three to five taels of silver per month, which Yang Jing could afford.
But the apprenticeship fee was just the beginning. There were all sorts of other expenses, including nutritional supplements, medicinal supplements, and subsequent training fees.
Yang Jing could afford the apprenticeship fee alone. But all these costs added together amounted to a huge sum. More importantly, Yang Jing himself needed a large amount of silver coins for his own training.
It seemed like he had a lot of money on hand now, but in reality, it wouldn't last very long.
So, the idea of funding Yang An's training surfaced in his mind for only a moment before Yang Jing pushed it down.
Whether for the family's sake or his own, his personal training was the priority.
'I just need a little more time,' he thought. 'Then I can break through to the Dark Jin stage. Once I do, it will be a whole new world.'
At the very least, after breaking through to Dark Jin, it would be much easier to obtain more silver taels, whether by taking an official position or through other channels. By then, he might have enough money to support Yang An's training as well.
Besides, Yang Jing felt that once he broke through to Dark Jin, he would be perfectly capable of teaching Yang An himself.
A Dark Jin master was considered quite formidable in all of Yuhe County, and his own future certainly wouldn't stop at just Dark Jin.
While teaching Yang An, Yang Jing didn't neglect his own practice. He worked on his *Raging Waves Leg Technique*, and his elusive, agile Body Technique left Yang An deeply impressed.
「Time passed slowly.」
The aroma of chicken began to waft through the courtyard.
Although the meat from fierce beasts like tigers and bears that Yang Jing ate was expensive and highly nutritious, in terms of flavor, it couldn't necessarily beat a home-raised, free-range chicken.
At noon, a square table was set up in the courtyard. On it sat a large pot of stewed chicken. The broth was rich and white, dotted with chopped green onions, its fragrance filling the air.
The family gathered around the table.
The two youngsters, Yang Jing and Yang An, sat on either side of their grandfather.
Elder Yang picked up his chopsticks and put a chicken leg from the pot into Yang Jing's bowl. He thought for a moment, then put his chopsticks down and used a spoon to ladle two spoonfuls of broth for Yang An. "Xiaohan, you eat too."
The corner of Yang Jing's mouth couldn't help but twitch.
It was a good thing his cousin was such an honest person, even urging Yang Jing to have more chicken soup. If anyone else had been treated so differently by their grandfather, they would have been furious—especially since this was the free-range chicken his aunt had raised.
"Jing'er, hurry and eat. Build up your strength," his grandmother of the Qin Family said, looking at Yang Jing with eyes full of affection. She picked up a piece of chicken skin for herself, took a small bite, and chewed it slowly.
His mother and his aunt of the Xue Family did the same. Their chopsticks mostly moved over the vegetable dish; if they occasionally picked up a piece of chicken, they would place it in the children's bowls.