Chapter Six: Breathing Techniques to Strengthen the Heart and Lungs

As Zhou Xun watched Wang Hu and Li Sanshan depart, he sighed, as if about to speak, when suddenly his face turned pale, blood seeping from the corner of his lips. He pitched forward, and Zhou Qian quickly supported him, asking with concern, “Master, are you all right? Where do you feel unwell?”

“It’s nothing. Help me to my brother’s grave,” Zhou Xun replied, patting Goudan’s head with a smile.

“Oh,” Goudan answered, uneasily glancing at Zhou Xun, his small hands struggling to steady Zhou Qian’s tall frame. The land around Linghu Xiong’s grave, a hundred feet in every direction, had been ravaged by their earlier battle, churned up as though ploughed anew, full of pits and hollows that made walking difficult. Goudan clicked his tongue in awe—what tremendous strength! These martial artists were truly formidable; if they tilled fields, surely they’d work a hundred times faster than ordinary folk! Goudan wondered at the thought.

“Qian’er, tell me, what would you call a true sword technique?” Zhou Xun suddenly asked.

“It’s like what you just used, Master—the powerful kind, swish swish, and you sent those two old men running for their lives!” Zhou Qian replied excitedly, gesturing wildly with his hands.

“No,” Zhou Xun shook his head. “A sword move is a method of wielding the sword; executing and then withdrawing it—that is a complete move. But why is it that this move, ‘Parting Clouds to Reveal the Moon,’ feels... Could it be that my cultivation isn’t enough? Thirty years, and still...” His voice dropped so low that Zhou Qian could scarcely hear.

They reached the grave. The firelight reflected in Zhou Xun’s eyes, as if flames burned deep within. Suddenly, he laughed out loud. “Difficult, so difficult! Brother, did you think the same while alive? If it were easy, would we have been so obsessed all these years? Ha! Intriguing, truly intriguing! Though the night is long, we must part the clouds to reveal the moon! Zhou Qian, kneel and pay your respects to your martial uncle!”

Zhou Qian knelt as told, saying honestly, “Disciple pays his respects to Martial Uncle,” and kowtowed three times with reverence.

“Brother, do you see? This is the disciple I have taken, after searching ten years to find one with both talent and character! I intend for him to inherit the legacy of our brotherhood. Should anything befall us, our sword techniques will not be lost. Brother, how fares your swordsmanship in the underworld? When will we duel again? My skills have reached the unity of man and sword—can I now match your pride of years past, when man guided sword, and sword commanded technique? Now that you’re gone, am I destined to lose to you forever, never again to cross blades?” Tears ran down his face.

It was a long time before Zhou Xun composed himself and turned to Zhou Qian. “Qian’er, I had planned tonight to teach you the art of the sword, but was delayed by those two old men. They must have come to confirm my brother’s fate. It’s late, so I’ll first teach you a breathing technique. Remember, tomorrow at dawn, at the second quarter-hour, practice this method for only half an hour—no more, no less. Remember!”

Zhou Qian nodded. Zhou Xun then imparted the breathing method, which consisted of sixteen different patterns, each requiring the body to assume various corresponding postures. Zhou Qian struggled nearly an hour before he managed to learn it, and upon trying, felt dizzy and nauseous. He couldn’t help but grimace, “Master, this breathing method makes me feel terrible. Did I do something wrong?”

Zhou Xun sat on the ground, smiling. “This breathing formula strengthens your organs and is an inner cultivation secret, but it must be balanced with medicine to nourish the heart and lungs. The second quarter at dawn is when yin turns to yang, as the sun rises. Practicing then, you can absorb the purest energy between heaven and earth. But in this graveyard, thick with yin energy, it’s no wonder you feel unwell.”

He took out a jade vial. “Here are fifteen pills to strengthen your foundation. Take one each day before practice. After fifteen days, return here. Meanwhile, I have a task for you. I only brought fifteen of these pills—the main ingredients are a hundred-year-old lingzhi, fifty-year saffron, and old rhino horn. I’ll find these three; the rest you’ll collect. I’ve left you some money, and this is the ‘Lu’s Medical Canon,’ compiled by the renowned physician Lu Xu. Study it often. Most martial artists are skilled in medicine; if anything goes wrong in your training, what would you do otherwise?”

Zhou Qian accepted the prescription and medical text, asking reluctantly, “Master, are you leaving again? You still haven’t tried my specialty noodles.”

“I came to the northern border to pay respects to my brother and to investigate the source of the Central Plains’ river system, the Great Tuo River. It’s urgent—if mishandled, it could spark chaos in the martial world again. I must go.” He sighed, shaking his head. “In fifteen days, I’ll check your progress. If you can guide your internal energy into your abdomen, I’ll give you a gift.”

After a few more instructions, Zhou Xun hurriedly departed. Zhou Qian gazed at Linghu Xiong’s grave and sighed, “Martial Uncle, Master is really busy.”

Zhou Qian returned to his lodgings, a guest room in a dilapidated temple on the west side of town. The abbot, finding the temple deserted, had rented out the rooms. Zhou Qian had paid two months in advance. He knocked on the iron gate, apologized to the sleepy young monk who answered, and entered his simple room—one bed, one table, a meditation mat, and an incense burner.

After washing up, he lit the oil lamp and began to read the ‘Lu’s Medical Canon.’ The book was divided into three volumes: Physical Form, Herbs, and Acupoints, each containing hundreds of pages. He opened the Physical Form volume, which itself was divided into six sections: Humans, Birds, Fowl, Snakes, Insects, and Beasts. He started with the Human section, which began: “Man, chief among sentient beings, has twenty-four vertebrae corresponding to the twenty-four breaths, twelve bronchial branches known as the Twelve Towers. The navel is called the Ancestral Palace, within is the Yellow Court, the heart is the Scarlet Palace, the lungs the Canopy, beneath the tongue the Flower Pool, the sole the Gushing Spring, an inch and three-tenths below the navel is Fengdu, the small intestine’s eighteen bends are the Eighteen Hells, the urinary tract is the Earth Gate, the anus the Secret Gate... The human body mirrors the cosmos and the way of nature. Tap the left teeth eight times for the Golden Bell, the right for the Jade Chime, the front for the Dharma Drum; three sets of eight make twenty-four, corresponding to the twenty-four breaths; the bones number two hundred six...” The text was dense and obscure; Zhou Qian could only half understand, resolving to ask Master for clarification when he returned. After reading a while, he nodded off at the table, waking only when the morning sun rose.

He hurried to the water clock outside the main hall to check the time; seeing the water level was less than a quarter, he breathed a sigh of relief, grateful he hadn’t missed the second quarter at dawn. Just as he was about to return to his room to practice breathing, a young monk greeted him with palms pressed together. “Good morning, Little Master.”

“Good morning, Master Jiechēn. Up so early for morning lessons?” Zhou Qian greeted him. The temple housed only four monks: the old abbot and three young novices—Jiechēn, Jienù, and Jiesè. Since the temple was poor and rarely visited, the three novices often went hungry. Zhou Qian, being skilled at making noodles and often inviting them to eat, was well liked by the trio.

“Master says, ‘The early bird catches the worm,’” Jiechēn replied solemnly, the most earnest of the three. Jienù was playful, Jiesè fond of food, both contrary to their names.

“You’re busy, Master Jiechēn. I’ll head off.” Seeing the second quarter at dawn was near, Zhou Qian hurried back to his room.

“Gou, my senior brother Jiesè wanted me to ask when you’ll next invite him for a vegetarian meal? He’s scraped together enough for vegetables!” Jiechēn called after him.

“When I have time!” Zhou Qian waved.

“What’s the rush? A calm mind is the root of enlightenment,” Jiechēn recited, “When the Bodhisattva Avalokitesvara practiced the profound perfection of wisdom, he realized the five aggregates are empty, thus overcoming all suffering. Sariputra, form is not different from emptiness, emptiness is not different from form; form is emptiness, emptiness is form...”

Zhou Qian rushed back, swallowed one pill with water, feeling warmth spread in his belly. Timing himself, he opened the east-facing window, sat cross-legged, eyes half-closed, breathing three shallow breaths, one short, one long. His thumbs pressed on the energy point below his navel—the ‘sea of qi,’ known in martial circles as the dantian—thumbs pressing an inch down. In less than a quarter of an incense stick, his forehead was beaded with sweat. He changed posture and continued...

After half an hour, Zhou Qian let out a long breath. A cool sensation spread from his dantian to all his limbs. He opened his eyes, sunlight just spilling over him, filling him with indescribable comfort. The feeling lingered for a while before fading. Zhou Qian patted himself all over, marveling, “This really feels good, but why don’t I notice any changes?” He tried jumping, but didn’t feel any lightness or wall-climbing ability, and sighed. Once the novelty passed, he realized he was soaked with sweat, as if he’d just emerged from water. Checking the time, he quickly changed clothes, grabbed his noodle ingredients, and set off to sell noodles.

A regular asked, “Goudan, why are you so slow selling noodles today? Kept us waiting!” Zhou Qian only smiled.

He asked a few regulars where to buy medicinal herbs in Changzhou. Old Liu, a bailiff, suggested, “Lin’s Pharmacy is the most reputable in town, said to have connections with southern traders. They have the best selection and quality, though the price is a bit higher.” Zhou Qian got directions, served Old Liu an extra bowl of noodles, and received praise for his cleverness.

After closing his stall, seeing it was still early, Zhou Qian returned to the temple to fetch a bundle and headed to Lin’s Pharmacy.