Chapter 337

Every day before dawn, Uncle Qin would head to the fields with his hoe. This was mainly because Uncle Qin also had household deliveries to manage during the day, so the farm work had to be done in the early mornings and evenings.

When Runsheng was home, he would also go to the fields with Uncle Qin. Every day, precisely on time, Xiong Shan would also arrive with his farming tools to join them. For Xiong Shan, after experiencing the turbulent life on the river, this pastoral, reclusive existence was quite enjoyable. What's more, he was working in the fields daily with the esteemed Master Qin Li, and even more importantly, they were farming Li Sanjiang's land.

Recently, however, although Uncle Qin still let Runsheng come along, he didn't let Runsheng work, only stand in the field. Runsheng was obedient; if told to stand, he stood. It wasn't out of laziness, but because he often couldn't control the strength in his hands. A simple weeding task could accidentally create a pit, and farm tools were frequently damaged. Other families' farm tools could be repaired and passed down through generations, but Li Sanjiang's tools had all recently been replaced with new ones.

Xiong Shan yawned. Not only did he get up early to farm, but he had also been farming all night. The morning breeze blew, stirring up some grass clippings. Xiong Shan wiped the corner of his eye with the back of his hand, then froze.

Runsheng, who had been standing there, began to sway. At first, he thought Runsheng was just stretching after standing for a long time, but as someone who had once lived on the river, he immediately realized something was wrong. Each sway of Runsheng's body skillfully avoided the grass clippings that should have landed on him. It was hard to imagine such a large man displaying such exquisite footwork. What puzzled Xiong Shan even more was that Runsheng's face also showed confusion. It was as if Runsheng wasn't controlling these movements himself.

The wind picked up, bringing more grass clippings, but Runsheng's swaying speed actually slowed. His "qimen" weren't open, but by integrating with the wind, he guided subtle air currents to cut through the embedded grass clippings, keeping himself "clean." Xiong Shan's eyes widened. This "Zhang Fei embroidering" scene was truly astonishing.

Back at the General's Tomb, Xiong Shan had witnessed Runsheng in combat. He used secret techniques to stimulate his potential for rapid power boosts, following a straightforward approach. True, it had been a long time since Xiong Shan's second "lighting of the lamp" and withdrawal. Runsheng had also ridden many "waves" with that person; even if purely by merit, Runsheng's improvement would be significant. However, no matter how much he improved, such a revolutionary change in his personal style shouldn't have occurred. Yet, the current Runsheng had achieved it. Xiong Shan could hardly imagine how terrifying a physically powerful person, possessing formidable strength, would be when combined with such profound footwork and techniques.

A single grass clipping landed on Runsheng. Runsheng stopped, looked down, and saw the tiny green speck on his shirt. He had merely instinctively replicated the reactions from his evening lessons. But it was still lacking; he constantly felt his progress had hit a bottleneck. Logically, he should strive to think, summarize, and continuously experiment to break through. Yet, "thinking" was an incredibly difficult task for him.

He could sense that daily lessons were a huge pressure for Xiao Yuan. He hoped to achieve satisfactory results, otherwise he would feel he was letting Xiao Yuan's efforts down and was reluctant to see Xiao Yuan suffer and contribute so much.

Uncle Qin was working, not standing and watching like Xiong Shan. At that moment, a young father rode past on an old-fashioned bicycle down the village road, with a small boy, each carrying a schoolbag, sitting on the front and rear bars.

The young father said, "Er Hou, you should learn from your brother. Look at your pathetic scores; aren't you ashamed?"

The younger brother, sitting on the back seat, ignored his father's nagging and continued to happily blow the dandelion he had just picked, enjoying himself immensely. The father and sons soon rode away.

Uncle Qin put down his tools, looked at Xiong