Chapter Twenty-One: The Five Animal Frolics

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Later, in an unexpected incident, Zhang Ye finally realized that the old Taoist had not deceived him. The set of boxing techniques was indeed a form of martial arts, but not the kind of combat skills Zhang Ye had imagined. Rather, it was a method of practice within martial arts—not meant for fighting, but greatly beneficial for health and physical fitness, serving as the foundation for martial training.

Having been given a second chance at life, Zhang Ye was no longer as superficial as he once had been. He understood well the importance of the body and naturally resumed his practice.

Zhang Ye stepped slowly into the woods, gradually unfolding his posture.

Gulp, exhale, gulp, exhale... roar...

With both hands and feet planted firmly on the ground, Zhang Ye’s body slowly stretched back and forth, unconsciously extending himself. His hands and shoulders trembled slightly, while his legs and hips vibrated in another direction—one downward, one upward—slowly advancing toward his abdomen. Meanwhile, his breathing differed from the norm: each breath was distant and drawn-out, a fine stream of air swirling and flowing into his belly.

As the subtle tremors of his body collided with the air in his abdomen, an irrepressible roar surged up his throat and burst forth, echoing like the leap of a beast king, the roar of a tiger in the forest.

After nine consecutive repetitions, Zhang Ye’s body began a new movement.

His hands and feet slowly shifted sideways, stretching his waist to the utmost. Switching from left to right, he resembled a lazy tiger stretching its back, raising its hips and swinging its tail. A subtle vibration gathered in his waist, driving the muscles to stretch and squeeze, causing the joints between his waist and spine to crackle like beans roasting in a pan.

These motions were exhausting; beads of sweat, fine and dense, covered his body as his muscles trembled.

Yet he did not pause. His movements changed, hands and feet crossing, and he moved swiftly through the woods like a prowling tiger. He used both hands and feet, his actions shifting from slow to fast, from stillness to motion—climbing rocks, leaping over obstacles, his breathing interspersed with beastly roars, truly resembling a tiger descending from the mountain in search of prey.

Suddenly, Zhang Ye halted, standing motionless as his breathing shifted. His head and neck rotated, stopping at their limit, his eyes following the movement to their furthest extent. He paused for several breaths, then rotated to the other side, repeating this nine times, his breathing synchronized with his movements, reminiscent of a deer observing its surroundings.

Then, Zhang Ye changed his actions once more. He stood upright, drew in his abdomen and lifted his hips, broadened his shoulders, and stepped sideways. Swaying left and right, he slowly raised one foot and then placed it down forcefully, then switched to the other, moving forward step by step...

Zhang Ye’s build was slender, neither broad-shouldered nor heavy, even somewhat thin, but after these movements, he appeared like a clumsy black bear—awkward yet endearing.

Thus, Zhang Ye demonstrated the agility of a monkey and the grace of a crane. After completing the routine, half an hour had passed.

By then, Zhang Ye’s entire body was drenched in sweat, as if he had been showered with water; his clothes could be wrung out.

These were the boxing techniques the old Taoist had taught Zhang Ye, known as the Five Animal Play. However, Zhang Ye later observed that the version he practiced differed from the one commonly known. Not only were the movements more imitative of animals, but the breathing methods and subtle coordination of the body were much more refined.

From Zhang Ye’s own experience, these movements were far superior.

It was for this reason that, after practicing for more than a month, Zhang Ye felt so confident, choosing not to flee when faced with three attackers.

Of course, the final outcome proved that the Five Animal Play Zhang Ye practiced was not suited for combat. The old Taoist had taught him the method of practice, but not the method of fighting.

Thus, with a bruised and swollen face, Zhang Ye angrily decided to abandon further practice of the Five Animal Play.

Returning to it now, he did so because he understood the power of this traditional martial art, and clearly recognized the distinctions between demonstration, practice, and combat.

Most importantly, he still had a chance to obtain the legendary fighting techniques. The opportunity was slim, and he knew that such masters had stringent requirements for their disciples, but Zhang Ye would never give up.

After all, the Five Animal Play was a treasure. With diligent practice for just half an hour each day, both body and mind would remain in top condition, rarely troubled by illness.

...

"Is it true that the watermelons in Qiyuan Town have all gone bad?" On his way back from exercising, Zhang Ye often heard such questions at his ear, and he smiled inwardly, knowing that Liu Wentao’s publicity campaign was working.

"It seems to be true; everyone nearby is talking about it. There was even a news report a few days ago. And I heard the water from the dam up there is filthy—soaking the watermelons in it, how could they still be edible? Looks like this summer will be tough." A woman spoke with some uncertainty, but her expression betrayed her belief in the rumors.

In summer, watermelons are the best relief from the heat. Not essential, but their sweetness and refreshing taste are loved by adults and children alike. Without watermelons, many would feel the season was lacking.

"Looks like I’ll need to buy more watermelons to keep at home. They don’t spoil easily, so it won’t hurt to have some on hand." Someone had already made such plans.

Qiyuan Town was the main producer of watermelons near Lihua County, with few from other areas entering the local market. Whether or not the news was true, stocking up on watermelons couldn’t hurt.

"That’s right. But Aunt Li, you must be careful—maybe the watermelons are fine now, but in a while, if those unscrupulous merchants bring in watermelons from Qiyuan Town… Well, who knows if they’ll taste good, but let’s hope they don’t make anyone sick." The speaker frowned and sighed.

"Exactly. Nowadays, some people will do anything for profit." At this, voices of shared indignation rose.

...

Never underestimate the terrifying power of gossip among housewives. Especially since Lihua County was not very large—though rumors wouldn’t reach every corner, Liu Wentao and his associates only needed to pass the news to a few renowned busybodies, and soon most residents would have heard of it.

If the idle chatter about watermelons in the streets left people half-convinced, then the bold, black headline in the Lihua Morning News, "On the Environmental Hazards of Qiyuan Town Chemical Factory," swept away all doubts. When people saw this front-page article early in the morning, nearly everyone who had questioned the rumor fell silent.

At this time, newspapers remained the main source of information for most people. If even the papers were reporting it, the truth of the matter was no longer in question.