One day passed, and the next morning, Zhang Daoran and Zhang Yifang woke up from their practice.

"Yifang, go and wake Fang Tong up..."

Sitting cross-legged on the stone pier, Zhang Daoran did not get up. He told Fang Tong last night that he had to get up before seven o'clock this morning. Now Fang Tong's room is still snoring, and Zhang Daoran frowned: "Practicing martial arts practitioners need to practice in the winter and in the summer. Only by persevering and persevering efforts can they achieve something. Laziness, no matter what they do, can only achieve nothing."

Zhang Yifang patted the door, and the snoring in the room gradually stopped: "What time is it? Get up so early?"

The voice of dissatisfaction in the room came: "I get up at 7:50 every morning in the provincial capital, and it's only 6:40 now..."

Mumbled, Fang Tong got up after a long time. He pushed open the door and saw Zhang Daoran and Zhang Yifang. Fang Tong knew Zhang Daoran’s cultivation rules and would get up every morning before dawn.

"Master, have you got up so early? Have you made breakfast?"

Fang Tong muttered: "I'll go wash my face and brush my teeth... Well, I'll come back to eat after breakfast."

"Do you really think of yourself as a young master?" Zhang Yifang glanced at Fang Tong: "Strange Sir, don't hurry to wash up first, the teacher will give you some instructions."

While yawning, Fang Tong came to Zhang Daoran: "Master, let's talk about anything after you have to eat breakfast..."

"There is no breakfast now, the Sanqingguan breakfast is around nine o'clock. You go down the mountain six times now, and you must complete it before nine o'clock. I will arrange for one party to follow you. If you can't finish it, you'll be hungry until the morning..."

Zhang Daoran said without raising his head while reading the Taoist scriptures.

Fang Tong was stunned: "Master, the mountain in the middle of the lake is more than 300 meters high. If you walk the steps from the top of the mountain to the foot of the mountain, it is at least one thousand meters, one round trip is two thousand meters, and six round trips are twelve thousand meters, which is less than a calculation! If you convert it into rice, 12 thousand meters, which is even more exaggerated than a marathon..."

"People who practice martial arts need long-lasting endurance and good physical strength. Otherwise, they will not be able to exert their power after practicing boxing. Since I chose you to teach boxing, I have great hope. If you can't stand this hardship, you can choose to give up... Six round trips are what you must do every morning in these three months."

Since Fang Tong chose to inherit Tai Chi, Zhang Daoran must take it seriously. If Fang Tong cannot be carved, Zhang Daoran can only find someone else.

"I'll learn..." Fang Tong's face changed a little and he walked out of the Taoist temple. How could he give up the opportunity that he had finally obtained? He said to Zhang Yifang while walking: "Master Taoist, don't run too fast at that time..."

Zhang Yifang also smiled bitterly in his heart. Zhang Yifang had already started practicing Taoism, and there was thin spiritual energy in his body, which was difficult to support Zhang Yifang's complete journey.

The only advantage is that Zhang Yifang has spiritual energy in his body, which is better than young. Fang Tong is in his thirties, and with the wine and color, his body has long been weak.

The two walked out of the Taoist temple, Zhang Daoran put away the scriptures, fled directly into the gray space, and entered the alchemy room: "Just relying on Fang and his own qualifications to practice Tai Chi, it is impossible to achieve a small success in three years. You must think of other ways..."

Within three months, Fang Tong wanted to achieve a small success in Tai Chi, only elixirs could help Fang Tong. Fang Tong was already thirty-two years old, and his bones were fixed and difficult to shape. Practicing martial arts requires not only strength, flexibility, but also endurance.

A true breath of qi and a chest, and a single punch of Tai Chi is a thousand pounds. Tai Chi is extremely difficult and requires a certain degree of understanding. Fang Tongming is smart, and it is still a certain distance from Zhang Daoran’s requirements.

......

"The Taoist priest will have a rest...I...can't run anymore."

At the foot of the mountain, Fang Tong sat on the steps with his butt, gasping violently. He looked at Zhang Yifang, who was breathing evenly, but he was sweating slightly on his forehead: "Master Xiao Taoist, do you have any secret? I think you are not very tired. This is the second trip, and I am afraid I can't hold on..."

There is no secret. There is a surging spiritual energy in Zhang Yifang's body, which is enough to relieve Zhang Yifang's fatigue. With a chuckle, Zhang Yifang said, "When I went down the mountain, I drank a bowl of water in the kitchen... If you persist, you will reach the top of the mountain and drink a bowl of water, you will be alive."

Zhang Yifang slowly went up the mountain. Fang Tong rested for a few minutes. He glanced at his watch and his face changed: "It's only the second trip, it's already 7:30? No, this is only one and a half trip, and it's the second trip after going up the mountain. It's more than an hour and a half. Before nine o'clock, six trips may not be completed..."

Fang Tong felt a little bitter: "It's really not easy to practice martial arts..."

Walking with his legs like a feeding of lead, Fang Tong continued to climb the mountain, but the speed was very slow: "Why didn't Taoist Master Yi Fang feel tired? Did Taoist Master cheat?"

After drinking only one bowl of spring water, it was impossible to keep going up and down the mountain twice. Fang Tong was not stupid, Zhang Yifang breathed evenly, but he only felt sweat on his forehead. Most people could not have such good physical strength, and they couldn't help but think of Zhang Daoran's magical pill: "You must stick with it, the Taoist priest has good things in his hands..."

Thinking of the magical spring water, drinking it can relieve fatigue, Fang Tong's body gushed out of his body and insisted on going up the mountain.

At 8 o'clock, Fang Tong arrived at the top of the mountain and was already panting. He ran into the Taoist temple with trembling legs, entered the kitchen, scooped up a bowl of water and drank it all. The temperature of the Taoist temple was higher than that outside the Taoist temple. After drinking this bowl of water, Fang Tong sweated like rain. He drank another bowl but still couldn't quench his thirst. He drank four bowls of water.

After looking at the Taoist temple, Zhang Daoran was not there, Fang Tong turned around and ran down the mountain... A few bowls of spring water relieved his fatigue. Fang Tong felt that he was really alive and went down the mountain very fast. He met Zhang Yifang halfway up the mountain, and Zhang Yifang gasped slightly: "I have another trip, you have more than two and a half trips, come on, I am waiting for you here."

"Hehe, Taoist priest, see if the Taoist priest is not here, can you open the net? I'll go down the mountain and come up again. You can go less, I'll go twice, let's fool you?"

The spiritual energy contained in a few bowls of water can support it, but the fatigue and the scorching pain in the lungs are still difficult to offset.

Zhang Yifang shook his head: "I will do what the teacher told me. If you want to fool me, just fool me. With the teacher's shrewdness, if you run less, the teacher will know..."

Fang Tong's face changed. Thinking of Zhang Daoran's magical prophet, he might have known the conversation with Zhang Yifang now. He didn't dare to have any idea of ​​being lazy anymore, Fang Tong quickly ran down the mountain...

It was almost eleven o'clock in the morning when Fang Tong dragged his tired body into the Taoist temple, and Zhang Yifang followed behind.

Zhang Daoran sat at the stone table under the old peach tree and was observing the Taoist scriptures. Fang Tong entered the Taoist temple, but Zhang Daoran didn't raise his head: "Yi Fang took a break, drank a bowl of water, and went one more tomorrow. Fang Tong took a break four times, drank thirteen bowls of water, and went four more tomorrow..."

Fang Tong's face collapsed, and he complained in his heart: "Sure enough, the Taoist priest knows everything, but he will go four more trips tomorrow, which will cost a life..."

As soon as he asked for mercy, Zhang Daoran stood up: "A martial arts practitioner is lazy and will only harm himself. If you want to succeed in practicing, you have to work hard several times more than others. Now you have just finished warming up, and now you can squeeze your legs and practice flexibility."

Zhang Daoran turned around and returned to the room, put the elixir he had just taken back into the gray space, and sighed in his heart: "The elixir needs to be taken, but now is not the time."
Chapter completed!