"Young man, hello, my name is Richard Grant, I'm Irish." The middle-aged foreigner was a white man, blue-eyed, bearded, but on closer look, very handsome, and very tall, almost 1.9 meters. James Carter was only about 1.75 meters tall now, so he had to look up: "China is a great country, I like it very, very much."

"Richard Grant uncle, are you here for tourism?" James Carter asked.

"No, I came to China to look for something." Richard Grant's gaze became deep. "James Carter, that's an interesting name. '劫'—calamity. This character in Chinese has an ominous meaning, representing disaster and destruction. In Buddhism, there are the four great kalpas: formation, existence, destruction, and emptiness. In Daoism, there's also the concept of heavenly tribulation. Your parents gave you this name—interesting."

It seemed that Richard Grant's catchphrase was "interesting."

"Uncle, you know so much about our Chinese culture?" James Carter became interested. As he chatted with Richard Grant, he subconsciously mimicked the motion of hoeing the ground.

This was a sign of his recent obsession—constantly thinking about the move of hoeing the earth.

"Young man, your posture is correct, but your intent is wrong. This technique is called 'Hoe and Mattock.' It was created by ancient warrior monks who integrated qigong, yoga, jujitsu, meditation, combat, and fighting into farm work. When practicing, the most important thing is intent. Without intent, you can't master the skill." Richard Grant looked like a foreigner on the outside, but when he spoke, he sounded just like a native Chinese master. His Chinese was far better than Jos'.

"Uncle, you actually know kung fu? This technique is called 'Hoe and Mattock'? What a rustic name." James Carter was overjoyed—could this foreigner Richard Grant be a master?

"I'm a martial arts coach," Richard Grant stroked his beard. "But I'm unemployed now. I see you're a student at a martial arts school, right? Actually, I also came to China to seek a mysterious power—that is, qi! In your Chinese culture, no matter the school, everything revolves around qi. Buddhism and Daoism, of course, but even Confucianism talks about cultivating a vast and righteous qi."

"Is there really such a thing as qi?" James Carter thought that traditional martial arts, like Tai Chi, were just sports, all about muscle and bone training. As for other mysterious powers, that was nonsense. He brought the conversation back: "Uncle, what do you think my move is lacking? Can you give me some pointers?"

"What you're lacking is hatred and ruthlessness!" Richard Grant's Chinese was so fluent it was unbelievable, with no language barrier at all.

"Hatred and ruthlessness?" James Carter was puzzled. "Why hatred? And ruthlessness?"

"Martial arts were originally for fighting. The earliest martial arts were developed by our human ancestors from fighting wild beasts. Without hatred and ruthlessness, you couldn't survive." Richard Grant put down his backpack, lifted his hand as if raising a hoe, then brought it down.

Up and down, it looked ordinary, but at the moment of descent, Richard Grant let out a shout.

"Yi ya!"

The shout was like a monster's roar, making James Carter shudder all over, almost scaring the courage out of him. He felt as if the other person had instantly turned into a fierce tiger, a demon, hating heaven and earth, ready to tear everything apart.

"Hatred is the power that comes when anger in the human heart reaches its peak. The stronger the hatred, the higher the martial skill." Richard Grant said, "I'll teach you two formulas. When you raise your hand, you must hate the earth for having no ring—intensely hate the earth, wondering why it doesn't have a ring, otherwise you could pull the earth up. When you bring it down, you must hate the sky for having no handle—hate the sky for not having a handle, otherwise you could pull the sky down. This is called 'hating the sky for having no handle, hating the earth for having no ring.' This is the mental method in martial arts. Without this intent in your practice, your kung fu will have little effect."

"'Hating the sky for having no handle, hating the earth for having no ring'?" James Carter seemed to understand.

"Imagine yourself as a giant of immense strength, standing between heaven and earth, wanting to break free from their constraints but unable to, always trapped within them, unable to exert your strength. At this moment, you hate the sky for having no handle, hate the earth for having no ring—otherwise, you could tear heaven and earth apart. In your Chinese mythology, there's the story of Pangu splitting the heavens. It's the same—Pangu awoke in chaos, unable to escape, and in intense hatred, tore it apart, creating heaven and earth." Richard Grant said.

James Carter completely understood. He immediately closed his eyes, trying hard to build up his emotions.

Suddenly, he opened his eyes wide, his whole face filled with rage, anger reaching its peak. He fiercely raised both arms, then smashed them down, digging and turning the earth in one continuous motion—truly like a giant splitting the sky, a tiger pouncing, an enraged elephant trampling, a fierce shark hunting, a wrathful Vajra.

The ground shook under his feet, and a loud "thud" sounded from his body.

But after the move, he seemed exhausted, seeing stars, gasping for breath, as if this one practice had drained all his strength.

"Such talent?" This time, it was Richard Grant's turn to be surprised.

After a while, James Carter finally caught his breath. He didn't even want to try a second time—it was too mentally exhausting, even more tiring than staying up all night doing homework.

Chapter 5: Hating the Sky for Having No Handle, Hating the Earth for Having No Ring—Hoe and Mattock