Chapter 298: Li Yaozong Learns Martial Arts

The tranquility of Xi Kua Yuan and the clamor of the Central Courtyard, like two rivers clearly divided, flow quietly in the daily life of the Siheyuan.

After Lin Xueqing finished her confinement, her body recovered extremely quickly under Li Ping'an's imperceptible Spirit Spring nourishment and her own careful regimen, and work at the Harmony Hospital was back on track.

And little Li Yaozong, after long‑term drinking rice soup and vegetable porridge mixed with Spirit Spring Water, grew at a rate that made the neighbors gasp in amazement.

The four‑year‑old child was actually about half a head taller than his peer He Xiao, his frame solid and upright, not as frail as typical children.

Even rarer, his eyes were bright, showing a spirit and focus far beyond his age; when running and playing his steps were steady, his strength ample, making him a true "little benchmark" among the Siheyuan's children of his age.

Li Ping'an watched all this, joy in his heart, but more so a deep contemplation. As a father and a former war veteran now serving as director of the Security Section, he understood the importance of strength and wisdom better than anyone.

In these uncertain times, the future unpredictable, he hoped to give his wife and children firmer protection. His son's uniquely gifted constitution, if left unguided, would be a waste of heaven‑bestowed talent.

That evening after dinner, Xiao Nuanqing had been coaxed to sleep, Lin Xueqing was leafing through medical books by lamplight, and Li Ping'an, holding Li Yaozong, sat on the edge of the kang, his expression gentle yet solemn.

"Yaozong, do you want to learn kung fu?" Li Ping'an asked softly.

"Kung fu?" Little Li Yaozong lifted his head, and brilliant light instantly flashed in his dark, big eyes. He had heard his father's chivalrous stories and had secretly watched his father train in the morning, planting a seed of longing in his heart. "Is it like the great heroes in the stories, leaping across eaves and walls, acting chivalrously?" he asked excitedly, grabbing his father's sleeve, his little face flushing with excitement.

Li Ping'an was amused by his son's childish words, patted his head and said, "Leaping across eaves and walls is legend. Real kung fu is to strengthen the body, protect oneself, and also protect mother and sister." He looked to Lin Xueqing, seeking her support.

Lin Xueqing set the book down, looking gently at her son. As a doctor, she knew the benefits of moderate exercise and trusted her husband's judgment even more. She said softly, "Yaozong, learning kung fu will be hard, requiring early mornings and late nights; you must not fear fatigue. Can you persevere?"

"I can! I can persevere!" Li Yaozong immediately puffed out his little chest, his voice loud, his mind already picturing himself as a white‑clad knight, punching villains and protecting the weak; that notion of "hardship" had already been swept away by the imagined heroic aura.

Seeing his wife nod in agreement, Li Ping'an formally put the matter on the schedule. Combining his own knowledge with future needs, he already had a step‑by‑step plan in mind: using the Eight Extremities Fist to hammer bones and build stamina as a foundation; supplementing with Tai Chi to cultivate the body and discern opportunities; and adding the flexible, ever‑changing Carefree Step to seek auspiciousness and avoid misfortune. No haste, no restlessness, steady and firm.

The next day, as the sky just turned a pale fish‑belly white, the Siheyuan was still immersed in pre‑dawn quiet. In the small courtyard of Xi Kua Yuan, Li Ping'an took his son to begin the first practice.

"To learn kung fu, first learn standing post. Stand like a pine, sit like a bell," Li Ping'an's voice was low and clear as he personally demonstrated the horse‑stance squat, "Feet apart, shoulder‑width, knees bent, body lowered, right, just like that, eyes looking straight ahead."

The four‑year‑old's muscles were still soft, and his stamina limited. Li Yaozong mimicked the pose, initially finding it novel, his little face solemn as he imagined himself a pine rooted firmly in the earth. But after a short while his calves began to ache and tremble, and his little bottom involuntarily sank lower.

"Dad, my legs hurt…" he couldn't help a soft whimper, sounding a bit plaintive.

"Hold on, count a few more tens," Li Ping'an, unsympathetic but steady, encouraged, "Think of the people you must protect."

Little Li Yaozong pursed his lips, his mind flashing his mother's gentle smile and his sister's cute babbling; an inexplicable strength surged again, he clenched his tiny teeth, striving to adjust his posture, silently counting in his head, "One, two, three…"

The cool morning air was inhaled, carrying the scent of earth and dew. The courtyard was silent, only the faint breaths of father and son.

As the east brightened, dawn filtered through the jujube tree branches, casting dappled light on the blue‑brick ground and illuminating the fine beads of sweat on little Li Yaozong's forehead.

A horse‑stance lasting only a short incense‑burn, for a child felt as long as a century. When Li Ping'an said "Alright," Li Yaozong plopped onto the ground, panting heavily, his legs again sour and numb, as if soaked in vinegar.

Li Ping'an offered no rebuke, his eyes instead showing approval. He bent down, lifted his son, entered the house, and poured half a bowl of warm water from the white porcelain kettle on the stove. The water was clear and sweet, faintly scented with an extremely light, refreshing aroma—it was diluted Spirit Spring Water.

"Here, drink some water, ease your strength."

Li Yaozong took the bowl and, "glug glug," drank a few sips. A warm, gentle current instantly slid from his throat into his belly, then rapidly spread to his limbs and bones. The sour‑numb feeling in his legs miraculously faded quickly, replaced by a warm, comfortable sensation that erased fatigue, making him feel as if re‑charged with electricity.

"Dad, this water is so sweet! After drinking it I don't feel tired!" the little fellow blinked in amazement, feeling the earlier effort was worth it.

Li Ping'an smiled without words, gently patting his back.

From then on, the mornings and evenings of Xi Kua Yuan gained a distinctive scene. At dawn, little Li Yaozong, under his father's guidance, diligently practiced the horse‑stance and the basic Eight Extremities Fist hammer‑punch and palm‑split; at dusk he followed his father in slow push‑hands, feeling the Tai Chi's pine‑like yet un‑pine quality, the un‑unfolded yet imminent rhythm; occasionally, Li Ping'an would lead him to walk a few steps in the courtyard, seemingly casual but actually aligned with directional principles, calling it the Carefree Step, which made Li Yaozong giggle as if it were a game.

After each practice, that half‑bowl of sweet "Recovery Water" always arrived as scheduled. Little Li Yaozong didn't grasp its mystery, but treated it as the best reward after effort, and his drive to train grew stronger.

The neighbors soon noticed the activity in Xi Kua Yuan. Yan Bu Gui, pushing up his glasses, exclaimed, "The Li Family is aiming for both literary and martial excellence!"

Sha Zhu watched Li Yaozong's proper horse‑stance, then glanced at his own child still rolling around fighting for a piece of candy, feeling a bit uneasy, muttering, "Kids, what's the use of learning this?"

Ma Dongmei, however, unusually agreed, "Strengthening the body never hurts; look how solid Yaozong is!"

Lin Xueqing watched her son's increasingly upright posture day by day, her eyes full of satisfaction. She knew her husband was teaching not just fists and kicks, but a resilient character and a sense of responsibility to the family.

Little Li Yaozong immersed himself in the dream of becoming a "martial‑arts master"; each horse‑stance, each punch, he performed with utmost devotion and anticipation. He didn't know what that "magical" water meant, nor that what his father taught him would become a priceless asset for his future livelihood and protecting his loved ones.

He was simply, under his father's guidance, in this tiny Siheyuan, greeting the sunrise and seeing off the sunset, stepping foot by foot onto his own unique path of growth. And the swish of fists and feet that lingered in Xi Kua Yuan became the most extraordinary rhythm in these ordinary years.