Rubbing his hands until they gradually grew warm, James Carter pursed his lips and thrust both hands into the iron sand, at first slowly, then faster and faster. His hands rose and fell like lightning, churning the iron sand into surging waves, yet not a single grain splashed out. Clearly, his skill had reached a certain level.

Suddenly, with a muffled roar, he changed his movements—sometimes grabbing, sometimes slapping, sometimes scooping, sometimes lifting, sometimes dragging, sometimes twisting—constantly shifting, dazzling to the eye. The iron sand clattered noisily, and the lead weights tied to his arms jingled against each other, sounding like someone stir-frying sunflower seeds or copper peas, audible from far away.

After about half an hour, sweat began to bead on his forehead, and only then did James Carter withdraw his hands. He slowly made a few hand gestures, circulating his blood and energy, then rubbed his hands together. As usual, he applied a layer of medicinal wine.

Iron Sand Palm is an external martial art, extremely fierce and damaging to the body; without medicinal aid, it simply can't be practiced. In the beginning, you can't even use iron sand, or your palms would be ruined. Back then, James Carter used rice as a substitute, practicing for two years and wasting who knows how much grain. Later, he gradually switched to river sand, and only after his hands became tough and resilient did he finally use iron sand.

After a short rest, James Carter opened that thread-bound handwritten book. The pages had long since yellowed, clearly quite old. Written in small regular script with a brush, the title in traditional characters was "Secret Transmission of Iron Sand Palm," signed below with the three characters “Henry Cooper.” There were over fifty pages; the beginning described the ingredients for medicinal wine, and as he turned the pages, there were various hand gestures and human figures. Though drawn with brush lines, they were vivid and lifelike.

Amid the illustrations were annotations, and toward the end, densely packed small text—a metaphysical essay reminiscent of the Dao De Jing, of unknown origin. James Carter studied it carefully for a long time and found it was about harmonizing the mind during practice. However, some sentences were so profound and ambiguous that their meaning was hard to pin down.

This "Secret Transmission of Iron Sand Palm" was personally written by the Iron Palm grandmaster Henry Cooper in his day, and was very comprehensive. Nowadays, with information so accessible, Iron Sand Palm is no longer a secret; a quick search online yields plenty of results, though they differ and each has its own take. Because the training method is simple, people can easily make up their own versions.

Yet the simpler something is, the more it often contains deep principles.

"Martial arts are all about perseverance, like water wearing away stone. The key is persistence. Other than that, there doesn’t seem to be any shortcut. But nowadays, it’s pretty much useless."

Modern society values the rule of law and firearms—the age of guns and hot weapons. Martial arts really have little use anymore. Still, this skill was something he had practiced since childhood and was unwilling to let go. As the saying goes, a boxer never leaves his fists, a singer never leaves his mouth. If you skip Iron Sand Palm practice for a day or two, it’s fine, but if you stop for a year or two, you’ll regress a lot. Since he had started, there was no turning back; to abandon years of hard work would be a real shame.

James Carter flipped through the book for a while, carefully reading the metaphysical section at the end, but still gained no new insights, so he put it away.

Seeing a tree across from him, James Carter stepped forward, removed the lead weights from his arms, and immediately felt much lighter. He planted his feet firmly in a horse stance, swung his arms, and—whoosh!—a gust of wind followed. Smack! His palm swept across the trunk, sending a large piece of bark flying and exposing the tender white wood beneath.

He suddenly leapt up, flipped in the air, and formed his hands into eagle claws. Like a dragonfly skimming the water, he touched the ground and grabbed two green bricks. Landing steadily, he gave a fierce squeeze—crack, crack—both bricks snapped in his grip. After kneading them a few times, the remaining halves crumbled into dust, powder flying everywhere, crushed to pieces by sheer force.

This was the Eagle Claw technique within Iron Sand Palm, which James Carter had immersed himself in for ten years and now executed with great skill.

Satisfied with his results, he brushed the dust from his hands and packed up the iron sand. Seeing that dawn was breaking and all the streetlights had gone out, James Carter gathered a bag of iron sand and, as usual, went down the mountain and returned to his residence.

"It's just past five; there's still time before school." James Carter hurried up the stairs. As soon as he entered his apartment, he felt a chill—the air conditioner had been running for nothing. Checking the clock, he saw it was the same time as usual. There were still two hours before he had to leave for school. This was his daily required practice.

This city is the capital of a province, and the university town is formed by the merger of three or four universities, quite prestigious and considered top-tier. James Carter had just been admitted. He originally lived in the school dormitory, but practicing Iron Sand Palm there was inconvenient. After much persuasion, he finally got permission to move out and found this place to rent.

Two bedrooms and a living room, kitchen and bathroom, with furniture and appliances, six hundred and fifty a month. Though the expenses were high, it was peaceful. Besides, James Carter was a second-generation rich kid; his parents were among the earliest to go into business after the economic reforms, and their business kept growing until they moved abroad. Money was never an issue. Otherwise, how could he afford to practice Iron Sand Palm? The medicinal wine alone was expensive. Plus, he cooked himself all sorts of luxury foods every day—if not stewing chicken, then stewing duck.

Practicing this external martial art without the aid of internal skills is extremely damaging to the body; if you don’t take care of yourself, you’ll break down quickly. James Carter had also sought out people to learn internal arts, like Tai Chi, but only picked up the basics—none of it was authentic. It was fine for stretching and loosening up, but as for prolonging life and achieving harmony of internal and external, that was out of the question. Who knows where the real inheritors are hiding these days?