Chapter 41: This Horse Stance is Dangerous

The importance of leg strength was something Tang Shen had already summarized while integrating Guina’s training. Moreover, he witnessed Guina’s progress with his own eyes and could not help but marvel at the power of the human body in this world. Yet, despite her advancements, he never praised her aloud; instead, he criticized her from time to time, spurring Guina to train even harder.

After all, the reason for her rapid improvement lay in the solid foundation of exercise she had developed since childhood. These detailed stance exercises were simply ways to unlock the body’s hidden or latent potential, making them more targeted than general training. In his previous life, the philosophy of unity between man and nature was valued, with people striving to comprehend the way of heaven and return to nature. The “horse stance” required one to forget oneself, plant the feet firmly on the ground, and align the head with the sky—an echo of that unity.

The main difference between the pillar stance and the horse stance was that, with the pillar stance, weights had to be placed atop the thighs, parallel to the ground. The horse stance Guina practiced had already been modified by Tang Shen, coincidentally aligning with the first stage of the pillar stance. Adding weight on the thighs should have been the second stage.

Standing horse stance atop wooden posts placed a tremendous burden on the soles of the feet, since the point of contact was only a small area on the post, less than a third of the foot. Its difficulty was obvious. That was why, over the five days, Tang Shen massaged and soothed Guina’s legs and feet multiple times daily; otherwise, she could never have recovered and progressed so quickly—normally, such training would require months.

Yet now, they skipped the first step and went straight into the second, with each leg bearing twenty pounds of weight for the first attempt, a total of forty pounds. Tang Shen took Guina’s age into account, fearing she might harm herself with excessive training.

When weights are first added, instability is inevitable—balancing on wooden posts was already a challenge, and now the thighs had to bear additional burden. It was easy to tilt or alter posture, leading to errors. This was also why Tang Shen made Guina hold the horse stance for two hours at a time for five consecutive days; it was an adaptation process.

Yet by the second day of the pillar stance, each leg’s weight was increased by another ten pounds. Tang Shen had underestimated Guina’s adaptability and determination—and her unyielding will to grow stronger.

The pillar stance felt completely different from the horse stance. Tang Shen realized this because he trained alongside his disciple—it was his first time practicing this art as well. The pain, numbness, and swelling were nearly unbearable, the sensation both excruciating and strangely invigorating.

Fortunately, his own constitution was now greatly improved, and the game’s recovery was far more convenient and rapid than in reality. Nevertheless, he could not allow himself to be outdone by his own disciple—how shameful would that be? He had no choice but to grit his teeth and persevere. No matter how painful, he had to persist alongside his disciple.

Originally, the weights should have been stone, rectangular blocks, but Tang Shen happened to own weighted gear—one of the rewards from his first entry into the game, allowing him to adjust the weight on his hands and legs. The gear looked like wrist or leg guards, highly flexible, with a display screen and even a touchscreen function, much to Tang Shen’s astonishment. The weight could be adjusted easily, and he had yet to discover the maximum, but each could reach well over a hundred or two hundred pounds.

This weighted equipment proved invaluable, far more convenient than stone blocks and extremely precise, ensuring balanced training. Since it was universal, Tang Shen and Guina each wore a pair, like leg guards that slipped over the feet and rested on the thighs without taking up space, easily adjustable at will.

Tang Shen was determined not to lose his dignity as a master, while Guina refused to be outdone by a weaker teacher—the two became locked in a contest of wills. Their progress was remarkable, their endurance and resolve soaring together.

After only two days of pillar stance training, Tang Shen’s constitution increased by one point, and his spirit also rose by one. Meanwhile, he did not neglect leveling up—he reached level seven in four days. The pillar stance weights increased again by ten pounds per leg, now forty pounds each, totaling eighty.

Pressure. Endurance. Stamina. Willpower. Unyielding determination.

Every day, Tang Shen and Guina stood in the stance on schedule, rain or shine. Though it was just standing, they both grew and changed, imperceptibly evolving.

The one who observed most closely was, of course, Master Koshiro; he watched every detail of their training. But at this moment, he felt rather exasperated.

At first, he did not realize they were using weights and noticed their training differed from the horse stance he had secretly learned. After two days, he discovered the truth, but he had no weights!

Damn! He couldn’t keep up with his secret learning anymore.

So infuriating! He wanted to train too, but lacked the equipment. Sometimes, he was tempted to rush out and snatch Tang Shen’s adjustable weights—how stingy, not even preparing one for him.

Not that he considered Tang Shen didn’t even know he’d been secretly watching. Even if he did know, he wouldn’t prepare one for Koshiro—he wasn’t his disciple, he was cunning, not as handsome, and shamelessly copying their training.

How shameless!

But could such a minor issue hinder a great swordsman who doted on his daughter? Of course not. If he didn’t have what he needed, he would make it. His ingenuity triumphed—Koshiro secretly asked the village blacksmith to forge curved iron blocks, designed to clamp onto his thighs while squatting.

Instantly, he felt satisfied!

After just one day, he sensed the difference from the horse stance. Having grown used to the horse stance, he no longer felt anything; now, he finally felt it again.

But what vexed him most was not the effort, but the lack of adjustability. Tang Shen and Guina could simply tap to increase weight, while he had to commission new pieces each time.

So frustrating! How was he supposed to keep up?

In the end, he was so annoyed he had the blacksmith make irons of varying weights, starting from ten pounds and increasing incrementally. The cost was so high it pained him—the island’s dojo mainly subsisted on student fees, which were not expensive, being on an ordinary East Blue island and not a Grand Line one.

Nonetheless, the problem was solved. With his strength and shameless persistence, he caught up with their progress and kept pace with ease.

Strength, wealth, and sheer willfulness!

He still felt something was off, but quickly dismissed it—the stance was addictive. He grew so accustomed that if he didn’t squat daily, he felt uncomfortable all over.

Afterward, he felt clear-headed and invigorated, full of energy all day.

So, to be precise, every morning, the three of them stood in the stance together, come wind or rain.