Chapter 85 Serving Tea
It is said that you can train your breath internally and train your muscles, bones and skin externally.

Traditional martial arts are often divided into two factions, internal boxing and external boxing, but Chen Ze has never delved into this issue before.

"Uncle Li, what exactly is internal boxing?"

"Hehe, the so-called internal boxing is actually more gimmick than reality."

Chen Ze: "?"

"Hahahahahaha." Li Pingjun laughed heartily again, looking like an old urchin.

"Uncle Li, are you kidding me?" Chen Ze stuffed an egg tart in one bite to ease the embarrassment.

"Boy, Neijiaquan, do you know who to ask?" Lipingjun stared at him with a smile.

"Who are you looking for?" Chen Ze suddenly remembered a fact.

The three well-known internal boxing: Taijiquan, Xingyiquan, and Baguazhang.

And I heard from Liu Junjie before that this old man Li is the master of Xingyi and Bagua.

"It's my eyes that don't know Mount Tai!" Chen Ze pleaded guilty, and then urged, "Uncle Li, don't be fooled, and tell me what's going on."

Only then did Li Pingjun get serious and explained: "Xingyi, Bagua, Taiji, these are famous boxing in the north. At the end of Qing Dynasty and the beginning of the Republic of China, nine out of ten martial arts schools around Beijing-Tianjin-Hebei taught these boxing."

Li Pingjun suddenly started talking about history, which made Chen Ze a little confused.

"Later, in 1928, when the government was preparing to build the Central Martial Arts Museum in Nanjing, those people in Beijing, Tianjin and Hebei got the news and brought their disciples south to start businesses."

"Especially famous masters like Sun Lutang and Guo Yunshen, and even warlords like Li Jinglin, they are basically from the same circle."

"In order to be different, don't you have to package it?"

"The theory of the so-called three major internal martial arts basically appeared in the process of these people's propaganda and promotion in the south."

"Later, some people refused to accept it, so they wrote articles to question them, but there was nothing they could do. They were really capable of fighting, and those who refused to accept it were all beaten, and slowly established the three major internal boxing."

"So Neijiaquan was actually forcibly classified by someone?" Chen Ze couldn't believe it.

Unexpectedly, Uncle Li really didn't regard himself as an outsider, and even started to expose his family's shortcomings.

It's been a business for a long time? !

"Yes, and no." Li Pingjun gave such an answer.

"Although this statement is a bit exaggerated, it is not far-fetched. These three boxing techniques still have some unique features."

At this point, Li Pingjun finished gnawing the pigeon in his hand before continuing: "Xingyi and gossip, both put meaning first."

"Xingyi Xingyi, like its shape, choose its meaning, it is called Xingyi."

As soon as the words fell, Lipingjun's eyes suddenly became sharper, and he directly practiced different punches.

"Horizontal fist, chopping fist, collapsing fist."

His hands are constantly changing from chopping or smashing.

"There are also cannon punches!"

Whoosh!As the last punch rushed out, his sleeve burst with a sound.

Seeing that Chen Ze's eyes were still puzzled, Li Pingjun further explained,

"Different fists have different strengths, but even with the same strength, they must be retracted freely."

"Drilling Fist belongs to water, and its aura is like that of Drilling the Sky, which throws things on the sea into the air."

Speaking of which, Li Pingjun wrapped his left hand into a fist and folded his wrist, and punched a drill punch to the side and upwards like a cannonball.

At this time, beside him, the waiter who was serving the food happened to bring up a drawer of custard buns.

Before Chen Ze could make a sound to remind him, Li Pingjun's punching hand loosened into a palm, and the speed did not slow down, and it was connected with the cage.

But the drawer didn't move, only the custard buns on the drawer bounced.

"This is the custard bun you ordered."

The waiter didn't seem to notice, handed over the cage and turned to leave.

"His custard buns are very famous, come and try."

Li Pingjun took the cage steadily and placed it in front of Chen Ze.

"Uncle Li is good at work!" Chen Ze first praised him, and then he took a white and fat custard bun according to his words.

The skin is fragrant and soft, the filling is soft and delicate, the milk is rich and the taste is excellent.

"Hehe, how can tea be served without tea?"

As he spoke, Li Pingjun took the empty teacup, took off the lid, lifted the teapot and poured tea into it.

Without stopping his movements, Li Pingjun began to explain again.

"The shape and meaning are the same, and the gossip is also the same."

"It's just that compared with Xingyi, Bagua pays more attention to the coordination of energy."

After speaking, Li Pingjun straightened the teapot, and just stopped when the cup was filled with tea.

Chen Ze took a closer look, the tea was poured extremely full, and the water surface in the cup was visibly swelled, and if there was one more drop, it would overflow.

After pouring the tea, Li Pingjun held the teapot in his left hand and before he put it down, he stretched out his right hand, put his four fingers together, and stretched out his thumb. He slowly pinched the cup holder under the teacup, and picked it up directly, facing each other in the air. With Chen Ze.

The tea in the cup still didn't overflow at all.

His movements were obviously not slow, but they were terrifyingly steady.

This scene was clearly seen by Chen Ze, and he secretly felt emotional again.

Seeing the teacup being handed over, Chen Ze put down the custard bag in his hand, Yaoyao reached out to catch it, but withdrew his hand halfway.

At this time, the cup of tea in the cup noodles has already raised an astonishing arc, and I am afraid that even the slightest vibration will make the tea overflow.

Across the small round table, Chen Ze stretched out his left and right hands, gestured for a long time but was still not sure.

At this time, Uncle Li had changed from his usual gentle appearance, and was staring at Chen Ze calmly.

"Xiao Chen, why didn't you answer?" He suddenly called out.

Chen Ze collected his expression, got up from the chair, and walked to Uncle Li's side in two steps, facing the cup of tea that was held in the air.

Chen Ze thought about what Li Pingjun had just said, squatting with his legs apart, keeping his waist and hips down, and planted himself on the ground as firmly as Mount Tai. The other end of the lamp holder.

"Xiao Chen, it's ready." Li Pingjun smiled.

Chen Ze didn't respond, but just stared at the small teacup with all his attention, trying to control every point of strength precisely.

Holding the four fingers firmly from the bottom, and buckling down with the thumb, Chen Ze held the teacup.

On the other side of the support, Li Pingjun let go of his fingers one by one, and slowly withdrew his palm.

So far, the tea in the cup remains the same.

Holding the teacup is only the first step, the most difficult thing is how to bring the teacup back now.

The horse's gait was steady, and sweat was already dripping from Chen Ze's forehead.

Such exertion is far more torturous than burying one's head in force, and there will always be an urge to ignore it all over the body.

But Chen Ze restrained this impulse, and moved the teacup with his left hand without shaking at all.

He recalled his experience when he practiced Vajra Kungfu, and he regarded the movement of his left hand as an inevitable trajectory, and there would be no slight deviation.

Halfway through, a numbness hit Chen Ze's arm, his muscles were too tense.

After calming down, Chen Ze began to recall how he felt when he practiced the Eight Longevity Kung Fu, and tried his best to make his mind useless.

As the distance shortened little by little, the teacup was already close to his chest. Chen Ze slowly took a long breath, and his right hand, which had been free all along, gradually moved closer to the teacup, and then brought the teacup to his mouth in one breath and drank it down.

During this process, not a single drop of tea spilled from the cup.

Ding, it wasn't until the empty teacup was put back into the cup holder that Chen Ze began to breathe rapidly.

A small pot of tea weighs no more than eight taels, but Chen Ze's attention on it is far more than that of the five or six hundred catties iron tripod in the morning.

Between this lightness and heavyness, Chen Ze realized more things.

 Sorry for being late, let me give you an apology first (Boom!)

  After the first edition was written, no matter how hard it looked, I simply deleted the rewritten code until now.

  Bow again.

  
 
(End of this chapter)

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