Chapter 026 The Fist Named Tai Chi (Part One)
Deng Fan was fourteen years old, a year older than Cao Peng.
Hong’s husband, Deng Juye, was past forty, an honest and unassuming craftsman. He was born into poverty, orphaned early, and had learned bamboo weaving from a craftsman who came from Jiaozhi. Ever since, he made his living by this skill. It wasn’t until he was nearly thirty that he married Hong and had a son, Deng Fan.
Deng Juye’s craftsmanship was excellent; people from villages within a ten-mile radius would seek him for bamboo work. Their life was not affluent, but it was sufficient.
Yet, his eldest son, Deng Fan, was a constant source of worry.
Not only did Deng Fan refuse to inherit his father’s craft, he spent his days idly, getting into fights and stirring up trouble.
Deng Juye was at his wit’s end.
But Deng Fan’s ambitions lay elsewhere; to force him to learn bamboo work seemed unrealistic. All they could do was let him be, as long as he didn’t commit serious crimes.
“What? You want me to learn martial arts from that sickly fellow?”
Hong, having received Cao Peng’s approval, returned home excitedly and told Deng Juye. The couple were delighted, so at dinner, they shared the news with Deng Fan, expecting him to be pleased. Instead, he leapt up in protest.
“Father, Mother, I could crush that guy with a finger! You want me to learn martial arts from him? What a joke!”
“You worthless brat!”
Deng Juye erupted in anger, pointing at Deng Fan and scolding him, “Sending you to learn martial arts isn’t about fighting and causing trouble. Who is Young Master Cao? Even the county magistrate calls him brother. What right do you have to be picky? Your mother is doing this for your own good… Starting tomorrow, you’ll go and do as Young Master Cao says. If you dare disobey, I’ll break your legs.”
“I won’t go!” Deng Fan stuck out his neck, refusing loudly.
“That sickly fellow? What could he possibly teach me? If I follow him, won’t people laugh at me?”
Smack!
Before Deng Fan could finish, Hong suddenly stood up and slapped him across the face.
“Mother, you—”
Hong trembled with rage, gritting her teeth. “Son, how can you be so disobedient?”
“Mother, I—”
“How old are you now? When your father was your age, he could already support himself. But you?
Son, I let you run wild before because I didn’t know how to guide you. But now things are different. Young Master Cao is no ordinary person; he’s bound to achieve great things. I don’t care what skills you learn—I just hope you follow him. Perhaps in the future, you’ll accomplish something great.
Son, I’m telling you clearly today: you’ll go, whether you want to or not. I don’t care if you want to practice martial arts. You must follow Young Master Cao. Stop wandering around and worrying your mother.”
Seeing his mother truly angry, Deng Fan became fearful.
He was a bit stubborn, but at heart, deeply filial.
He quickly knelt before Hong, “Mother, don’t be angry. I’ll listen to you. I’ll go see that Cao fellow tomorrow, alright?”
“It’s Young Master Cao!”
---
“Yes, Young Master Cao.”
Yet inwardly, Deng Fan muttered: Tomorrow I’ll find that Cao fellow, beat him up, and make him listen to me.
When mother asks, I’ll say I went… If he tries to cause me trouble, I won’t let him off until he’s properly subdued.
With this plan in mind, Deng Fan relaxed.
Seeing their son agree, Hong and Deng Juye finally breathed a sigh of relief.
The couple had faith in the Cao family, convinced they would accomplish great things. They weren’t versed in grand philosophies, but they knew you become like those you follow. Following Cao Peng was surely better than idling about and causing trouble. Husband and wife exchanged satisfied smiles.
The night passed uneventfully. At dawn, the winter chill lingered outside.
Cao Peng and Wang Mai jogged down to the riverbank.
As usual, they began with warm-up exercises.
After these days of training, the results were clear. At the very least, their appetites had grown, and their limbs had gained some muscle. Comparatively, Wang Mai showed even greater progress… His body was much sturdier than before, and he exuded a rugged spirit. As his skills deepened, he had mastered the Eight Vajra Forms, and under Cao Peng’s guidance, began practicing the Bajiquan frame, also known as Little Bajiquan. This frame was the foundation of Bajiquan and the true entry-level training.
Additionally, based on Wang Mai’s characteristics, Cao Peng had him do auxiliary drills such as hugging the post, pressing against it, and palm strengthening.
After guiding Wang Mai, Cao Peng stepped aside and began practicing Tai Chi.
“You call that boxing?”
Just as Cao Peng was feeling relaxed, someone nearby spoke in a mocking tone: “With skills like yours, I could defeat you with one hand.”
Cao Peng stopped, turning his head.
Under the bare old locust tree stood a burly youth.
Wang Mai was already quite imposing, but compared to this youth, he seemed lacking… The newcomer had a fierce look and a rugged air. He stood about one hundred seventy-five centimeters tall, towering over Cao Peng.
The youth curled his lip, eyes full of challenge.
Before Cao Peng could reply, Wang Mai was already angry.
“Where did this wild kid come from, spouting nonsense here?”
“Tiger Head, let me handle it.”
Cao Peng quickly stopped Wang Mai, smiling kindly. “You must be Uncle Juye’s son. Aunt Hong said you’d join us in training. We’re all on the same side now. I’m Cao Peng, he’s Wang Mai, and you?”
Deng Fan sneered, “On the same side? If my mother hadn’t forced me, I wouldn’t even bother with you, sickly fellow.”
Cao Peng wasn’t annoyed, still smiling as if he hadn’t heard Deng Fan’s words. He continued, “But if you’re here, you must follow our rules. First, I’m in charge; second, if you want to train, you must stick with it—no half-hearted effort; third, if you don’t listen to me, don’t blame me for being harsh.”
“You? Harsh with me?”
---
Deng Fan laughed loudly, “Cao, I don’t care what you were like before, but from now on, I’m the one in charge here.”
“You’re in charge?” Wang Mai scoffed. “What skills do you have to make such bold claims? You’re in charge? See if I agree.”
“Tiger Head, let me.”
Cao Peng reached out to stop Wang Mai and slowly stepped forward.
His pace was unhurried, but as he moved, an inexplicable air of authority emerged.
Deng Fan said, “Cao, what are you up to?”
“Heh, I’m just a sickly fellow—what are you afraid of?”
“I’m not afraid at all!”
“If not, why are you backing away?”
Cao Peng, having lived two lives, might not have the physical strength he once did, but the mark of his previous existence was still there.
He had once been an enforcer, carrying a unique aura of authority. Though his body was slight, his presence remained formidable.
Since being reborn, he’d already stained his hands with blood.
In terms of presence, Deng Fan, despite his stubbornness, could barely withstand it.
Unconsciously, he retreated three steps. Only when Cao Peng pointed it out did he realize, and embarrassment turned to anger.
“You’re looking for trouble!”
With that, Deng Fan lunged.
Cao Peng remained calm, stepping with Tai Chi, one hand behind his back. He sidestepped Deng Fan’s punch, lightly placed his other hand on Deng Fan’s arm, pivoted his foot, and pushed—the burly youth was thrown out, landing heavily in the snow and taking a moment to rise.
Last night, Deng Ji returned and heard Hong’s son would be coming. He was surprised.
He knew Deng Fan’s temperament and that he was a troublemaker…
He told Cao Peng about Deng Fan and warned anxiously, “Afu, that kid fears nothing—except his mother. He’ll definitely come tomorrow, but I doubt he’ll yield to you. Be careful; if you provoke him, he might try to fight you.”
“Brother-in-law, don’t worry. We’ve got Tiger Head here, after all.”
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