And the process of completing the First Stage is also different for each person.
The inferior method relies on tonic decoctions to nourish oneself, steady and persistent practice twice a month, taking seven or eight, even up to ten years, to slowly grind through it.
Without Scorching Sun, efficiency is just that low, so on Fuyu Mountain, basically everyone considers Scorching Sun Fist to be nothing more than a basic external boxing technique.
The superior method, on the other hand, is for those who possess Scorching Sun—they just bulldoze through, which needs no elaboration: highest cost, best effect.
At the very beginning, there were only these two approaches—one superior, one inferior.
But after the Sixteenth Ancestor created Scorching Sun Fist, building on a few words left behind by the Thirteenth Ancestor, he later added a supreme method he deduced in his old age.
With Scorching Sun in the heart, Scorching Sun rises from within—entirely relying on the blazing sun in one’s own mind to stir up fierce Yang energy from the inside out, fully completing the last part of the First Phase of the Scorching Sun Fist.
According to today’s terminology, it’s finding one’s own professional path—where thoughts, will, and actions are in total harmony and unity with one’s professional ability.
Zhang Laoxi watched quietly. He hadn’t awakened any professional ability, but he still knew just how tough this step was.
And even more, he knew that the Sixteenth Ancestor, relying on a lifetime of experience to deduce this supreme approach, had never actually expected anyone to pull it off.
Now he was starting to think, maybe Wen Yan really was a descendant of the Thirteenth Ancestor.
Perhaps back when the Thirteenth Ancestor was in his prime, shining upon Fuyu Mountain, he too was just this astonishing.
Beside Zhang Laoxi, the Little Zombie appeared silently. She quietly watched Wen Yan, a smile on her face, joy in her brows and eyes—she was truly happy.
Feeling the Yang energy radiating from Wen Yan, it was like being bathed in the morning sun; instead of feeling discomfort, for once she felt a rare and wonderful sensation, as if basking comfortably in sunlight.
Meanwhile, in Old Zhao’s villa, the Five Crooked-Cucumber Brothers noisily pulled back a corner of the curtain, peeked outside, and instantly started hollering in chaos.
"Old Zhao, come look! The sun’s rising at night!"
"Nonsense, if the sun’s up, doesn’t that mean it’s daytime?"
"That’s Yang energy."
"Bullshit. If that’s Yang energy, why don’t I feel any discomfort?"
Old Zhao came to the window, took a glance, and was left dumbstruck, sucking in a cold breath.
"Good lord, what is this training? How does it feel like the sun is just rising?
Wait, this isn’t right—how many days has it been? How did he get so much stronger so fast!"
Old Zhao pulled the curtains wide, basking in the glow of Yang energy ahead. He felt that being illuminated was pleasant—a sensation that even made his soul body more solid.
These ghostly beings enjoy the shade and shy from the sun, but it’s not like they reject all Yang energy altogether, or else why would they bother to absorb human Yang?
Old Zhao and the Five Crooked-Cucumber Brothers each took a window, like they were all basking in the sun, eyes closed, savoring this rare opportunity.
Down in Wen Yan’s basement, Uncle, who had been standing still the whole time, almost seemed to feel sunlight piercing through the floorboards, shining onto him.
Uncle didn’t have much spiritual intelligence, but at this moment, what he sensed was even more profound than the others.
He could feel Wen Yan’s determination and resolve—that after gaining what he sought, he’d still rather lose Scorching Sun than break his promise.
Standing motionless all along, Uncle slowly raised his head. He closed his eyes, as if soaking in the invisible blazing sunlight.
Wen Yan maintained his stance work, standing for a whole hour before coming back to his senses.
That sensation—refreshingly clear, his whole body warm and cozy—was truly addictive.
As he turned around, he saw Zhang Laoxi sitting on the steps, gnawing on a tomato, the Little Zombie on a cushion sucking on a tomato, and Sparrow Cat lying beside them with squinted eyes.
"What’s so interesting about practice? Why are you all watching?"
Wen Yan chuckled. The Little Zombie dove into his arms, seeking affection; Sparrow Cat yawned wide, and Zhang Laoxi shook his head, lost in who-knows-what kind of profound reflection.
Zhang Laoxi honestly didn’t know what to say. Wen Yan had been cramming all kinds of stuff these days, but there were still plenty of things he didn’t quite get.
For instance, with this First Stage of Scorching Sun Fist, among the three ways to make a breakthrough, this so-called supreme method actually wasn’t recorded in any translated boxing manuals.
Even the superior method wasn’t included in those manuals.
In the modern-language manuscript, everything defaults to the condition of not having Scorching Sun.
Only the original Fuyu Mountain version recorded what might happen if one did have Scorching Sun.
When the Sixteenth Ancestor created Scorching Sun Fist, no one could use Scorching Sun anymore—everything was theoretical deduction.
That’s why the translated Scorching Sun Fist manuals never included those deduced, unverified sections.
Zhang Laoxi had closely read the original version, and these very distinctive parts could, of course, be matched up with what he saw.
He thought about it, seeing that Wen Yan seemed to treat this as a regular breakthrough, just happily celebrating as usual, and so he decided to say nothing at all.
Saying something might actually make it worse; acting naturally, like Wen Yan, following the heart with nothing weighing it down, could make things go more smoothly.
Just let Wen Yan practice —it’s just right.
Counting on his fingers, all in all, Wen Yan had only started practicing Scorching Sun Fist for about a week.
One week, and he’d already completed the First Stage of the Scorching Sun Fist—using that supreme path which had only ever been theorized.
Now, he was even starting to feel a sense of regret for Wen Yan.