"Come," Li Qinghua said at the library exit. "My shop. We're doing this now."

  Daniel and Henry exchanged glances but followed her through Chinatown's afternoon streets.

  The sun had slipped past its peak, casting long shadows between the buildings. The smell of roast duck drifted from a restaurant's open door, mingling with exhaust fumes and the faint sweetness of incense from somewhere Daniel couldn't see.

  Three blocks. Li Qinghua moved faster than her walking stick suggested she needed to, weaving through the crowd with the ease of someone who'd walked these streets for decades. Daniel quickened his pace to keep up. Henry lagged a few steps behind, still processing everything.

  The shop appeared. The window display held the usual assortment: glass jars of dried herbs, a yellowed poster showing meridian lines on a human body, a small jade Buddha gathering dust in the corner.

  Li Qinghua unlocked the front door. Led them through.

  The floorboards creaked under their weight. Old wood, polished by years of foot traffic to a dark sheen. Dust drifted in the light slanting through the front window.

  She didn't stop. Through a curtained doorway into the storeroom. Darker here, cramped, the shelves crowding closer. The medicinal smell grew stronger, underlaid with something earthier. Then out a back door Daniel hadn't noticed, half-hidden behind a stack of empty boxes.

  The courtyard was small. Maybe fifteen feet on a side. Brick walls rose on three sides, old and weathered, mortar crumbling in places. Worn stone pavers underfoot, uneven from decades of use and settling earth. A few potted plants occupied the corners. A small bamboo, something with broad leaves Daniel didn't recognize, a miniature pine whose trunk curved sharply to one side, as if it had spent decades yielding to a wind that was no longer there.

  The sounds of the street muted here, reduced to a distant hum.

  Li Qinghua set her walking stick against the wall.

  "Show me," she said in Cantonese.

  "Show you what?" Daniel asked.

  "Show me what you've learned."

  Henry shifted his weight, uncomfortable. "Uh, I don't know anything yet. I'm starting from zero."

  Daniel hesitated. Then he settled into a ready stance.

  Drew qi from his dantian. Circulated it through the meridian in his arm, the route he'd mapped from the museum scroll.

  He formed the hand position for Tiger Claw. Felt the qi gather in his fingers.

  Then he struck forward at the air, channeling the principle. Descending, explosive, committed.

  The technique executed cleanly. Qi flowed through the strike, dispersed naturally at the end.

  He straightened. Looked at Qinghua.

  She was quiet. Studying him with an expression he couldn't quite read.

  "Again," she said finally.

  He did it again.

  She watched in silence, then gestured for him to lower his arm.

  "That was..." she said slowly. "Northern Tiger Style?"

  She paused, frowning slightly.

  "How did you learn this?"

  "I went to the museum and found a meridian chart and an old scroll with a technique called the Hungry Tiger Claw. Worked out what it meant. What a hungry tiger actually does when it attacks."

  "You just... figured it out? From reading and thinking about what a tiger does?"

  "Pretty much, yeah."

  Li Qinghua stared at him.

  A long moment passed. Somewhere beyond the courtyard walls, the rhythmic thump of a cleaver on a cutting board. A radio playing something in Cantonese, too faint to make out.

  "That's not how this works." Her voice had changed. Sharper now, almost frustrated. "You can't just imagine yourself into a technique. There are stages. Progressions. Foundations that must be built first. A teacher demonstrates, corrects your form, guides your moves. You practice for months, years, before the movement becomes real."

  "But it worked," said Daniel.

  "I can see that it worked. That's what I don't understand."

  She walked around him slowly. Examining his stance. His posture. The way he held himself after the technique. Her footsteps scraped softly against the stone pavers, circling.

  Henry stood off to the side, watching. Curiosity mixed with disbelief.

  Li Qinghua completed her circle. Stopped behind Daniel.

  Then, without warning, she kicked the back of his knee.

  Not hard. Just enough.

  His leg buckled. He caught himself, stumbled forward two steps before regaining balance, arms windmilling briefly.

  "Hey!"

  "Your attack is impressive." She moved to his other side, circling again like she was examining a sculpture with a flaw she couldn't quite locate. "But you're executing a tiger's claw without a tiger's body."

  Two fingers jabbed into his lower back. Right at the kidney.

  He stumbled again. His body wasn't ready for it. The pressure found the weakness and exploited it. He would have fallen if he hadn't caught himself against the courtyard wall.

  She looked at him intently. Her eyes had that same sharpness he'd seen in the library.

  "Your stance is shallow."

  She tapped his ankle with her foot.

  "Your center is unstable."

  Another tap, this time at his hip.

  "The move is real. But your body shouldn't be able to support it."

  Her frown deepened. "How are you doing this?"

  Daniel had no answer.

  He thought about it. How was he doing it? He'd just... followed the logic. Read the scroll. Understood what a tiger does. Mapped it to his body.

  It hadn't occurred to him that there should be more steps.

  Li Qinghua was quiet for a long moment, studying him. Something shifted in her expression. A decision being made.

  "Sit," she said, gesturing at the courtyard floor. "Both of you."

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  They sat on the stone pavers. The stone was cold through Daniel's jeans, slightly damp in the shaded areas. Henry lowered himself down with a grunt, still looking between them like he was trying to follow a conversation in a language he didn't speak.

  Li Qinghua remained standing. Looking down at them.

  "First, I cannot promise you anything." She clasped her hands behind her back. "I'm not a martial master. I want to make that clear."

  She paused, as if weighing her next words carefully.

  "And it is incredibly foolish for someone to teach something they are not sure about. Even so." She gestured vaguely, a motion that seemed to encompass the courtyard. "I know the fundamentals of what a martial artist should be. According to the tales I've heard over the years. The principles, if not the practice."

  Another pause.

  "If this is acceptable to you, I'm willing to share what I know."

  She looked back toward the direction of the library.

  "It may not help. But it should at least be better than whatever those idiots online are saying."

  Daniel's breath caught. She was actually offering.

  "Yes," said Daniel immediately.

  Henry looked between them, processing. Then nodded.

  "Yeah," he added. "I'm in."

  Li Qinghua allowed herself a small smile. Just a flicker, there and gone.

  "Good."

  She shifted into a more formal posture, hands still clasped behind her back. Her voice took on a different quality. Not quite lecturing, but structured. Like she was reciting something she'd heard many times.

  "How long have you been training?" she asked Daniel.

  "Few months?"

  "And in those few months, did anyone teach you how to stand properly? How to condition your body? How to build anything that could support what you're trying to do?"

  "The forums had some information about stances..."

  "The forums." She said it flatly.

  "Did the forums teach you how to build Jing?"

  Daniel looked at Henry. Henry shrugged.

  "I don't know what that is," Daniel admitted.

  Li Qinghua closed her eyes. Took a breath.

  "Of course you don't."

  She opened her eyes again. When she spoke, her voice had settled into something patient. The tone of someone explaining something obvious to someone who should already know it.

  "The Three Treasures. Jing, Qi, Shen. You've heard these terms?"

  "Maybe in passing," shrugged Daniel. The old movies mentioned them sometimes, but always during training montages that skipped years in a few minutes.

  Li Qinghua sighed.

  "Think of it like the body, mind, and spirit."

  She looked at both of them, making sure they were paying attention.

  "Jing is your vital essence. Your body, your physical foundation. If it's too fragile, it's like a cup that can neither hold water nor pour it. It spills at the slightest touch."

  She pointed at Daniel.

  "If you know martial stories, then you know that all of them, every single one, involves body training. Physical conditioning. It's for this reason. Otherwise, in a contest between equals, whoever strikes first will win. Because neither body can endure what the other can deliver."

  Daniel winced, remembering how easily he got beat when faced with someone who actually knew what they were doing.

  That stung. Because it was true.

  "You understand," said Li Qinghua, watching his face. "Good."

  She began pacing slowly. Three steps one way, three steps back. The stone scraped under her shoes.

  "This will not be comfortable. This will not be quick. Building a proper foundation takes months. Maybe a year."

  "A year?" said Daniel.

  "You want to do this safely? That's the timeline." She stopped pacing. "But you also need to not get hurt in the meantime. So I'll teach you two things at once."

  She held up one finger.

  "Body conditioning. Building Jing. This is slow. Boring. Painful. No shortcuts."

  Second finger.

  "Principles. What you should be doing to defend yourself if you get attacked again. How to protect your body when someone stronger is trying to break it." She lowered her hand. "This won't make you strong. But it might keep you alive until you have a proper foundation."

  "And you." She turned to Henry. "I can give you a strong body in a few months. As for qi?" She shook her head. "I can teach you methods I've heard about, but I cannot promise they work."

  Henry blinked. "Months?"

  "For the body training. Yes."

  "And you'd actually teach me? Even though I can't do any of the..." He waved his hand vaguely. "The qi stuff?"

  Li Qinghua paused, thoughtfully.

  "Let me ask this. If you had a choice and knew no matter what you did, you'd never learn qi. Would you still want to learn anyway?

  "Yes."

  "Why?"

  Henry hesitated. Glanced at Daniel.

  "Because he can do it. Because it's real." He trailed off, searching for words. "Because I've been watching him do impossible things for weeks and I can't do any of it, and maybe I never will, but..." He stopped. Started again. "I want to at least try."

  "Because you want to be part of something extraordinary," Qinghua finished.

  Henry nodded.

  "That's honest enough."

  She turned back to Daniel.

  "And you. You want to continue doing this dangerous foolishness?"

  "Yes."

  Li Qinghua nodded once.

  "Then we start running. Now."

  She gestured toward the courtyard entrance, back through the shop to the street beyond.

  "Around the block. Both of you."

  The first lap wasn't bad.

  Daniel had been running occasionally. Part of his attempts at physical conditioning back when he'd started boxing. His legs remembered the rhythm. His lungs cooperated. The afternoon air was cool enough that the sweat felt almost pleasant.

  Henry kept pace beside him, breathing hard but managing. The afternoon crowd had thinned slightly, making it easier to navigate the sidewalks. They dodged around an old woman pulling a wheeled shopping cart. Sidestepped a kid on a skateboard who looked maybe twelve. The smells shifted as they ran. Car exhaust, then the wet-concrete smell of a construction site where workers were breaking for the day.

  They passed the bakery. The electronics store. Turned the corner past a restaurant where someone was hosing down the sidewalk, water running into the gutter in brown streams. Turned again past a parking garage. Then back around to the Chinese medicine shop.

  Li Qinghua stood at the courtyard entrance, arms crossed, watching them return. Her expression gave nothing away.

  "Again," she said when Daniel arrived first.

  Daniel groaned but turned to run again.

  Henry stumbled in thirty seconds later, hands on his knees, gasping. His face had gone red and blotchy, sweat dripping from his chin onto the sidewalk.

  Second lap, the effort caught up with him. Daniel's calves started to burn. His breathing grew ragged. The same sights passed by again. The bakery, the construction site, the parking garage. But they seemed farther apart now. Time stretching.

  By the third, Henry was really struggling. He'd fallen half a block behind, his footfalls heavy and uneven.

  Daniel finished first. Again. His own legs were shaking now.

  "You, rest," said Li Qinghua to Henry. Then to Daniel: "You, two more."

  "What?" Daniel was already breathing hard. "Why does Henry get to rest?"

  "Because you can do two more. Go."

  Henry, still bent over and catching his breath, started laughing between gasps. "Dude... you're getting... punished... for being... in shape."

  "Shut up," Daniel muttered, but he was already jogging away.

  Behind him, Henry collapsed against the courtyard wall. "Bet you won't call me a whale again."

  Two laps later, Daniel stumbled back into the courtyard. Drenched in sweat. His legs felt like jelly, muscles trembling with each step. His shirt clung to his back. The medicinal smell from the shop seemed stronger now, or maybe his senses were just heightened from the exertion.

  "Good," said Li Qinghua. "Now both of you, cool down. Walk, stretch. Then come back here."

  They spent five minutes walking around the courtyard in slow circles. Henry was still occasionally chuckling at Daniel's expense, his breathing gradually returning to normal.

  "Heh. You had to run again."

  Daniel was too winded to form a proper insult. "Bitch," he panted. "How dare you... laugh at me..."

  "Worth it," said Henry. "Completely worth it."

  When they'd caught their breath, Li Qinghua had them sit against the courtyard wall. The brick was cool against Daniel's back, rough through his damp shirt. His heart rate was finally coming down. His legs still ached.

  Henry leaned his head back against the brick, eyes closed. Relief evident in his posture. The running was over. Maybe they'd just do some stretching now, or some breathing exercises, or...

  Li Qinghua studied them both for a moment.

  Her gaze settled on Henry.

  "Daniel," she said. "Beat him up."

  Henry's eyes snapped open.

  Daniel looked up, confused at first. Then something shifted in his expression. His mouth curved upward.

  "Wait..." Henry held up his hands. "What?"

  "Beat him up," Li Qinghua repeated. "Hit hard."

  "Hold on! Time out!" Henry scrambled to push himself up from the wall, looking between them frantically. Daniel was already getting to his feet, that grin spreading wider. "Time out! Why am I getting hit?!"

  Li Qinghua walked over to Henry. Resting her hand on his shoulder. He was too confused to resist.

  "There's always some story about a master who couldn't sense qi for decades," she said, her voice taking on that reciting quality again. "Trained his whole life. Meditated every morning. Did every exercise perfectly. Nothing. No sensation. No breakthrough. Just years and years of empty practice."

  She tapped his shoulder. He flinched at her touch.

  "Then one day, suddenly he's enlightened. Sensing everything. Abilities he never had before, appearing overnight. The channels open. The energy flows. Everything he trained for finally manifests."

  She finished positioning Henry's arm. Stepped back to examine her work.

  "You know how they say it happened?"

  Henry shook his head nervously. His arm was trembling slightly. A bead of sweat rolled down his temple.

  "He got beat up."

  Henry's eyes widened. "That sounds like total bull..."

  Daniel cracked his knuckles. The sound was very loud in the small courtyard. Very deliberate.

  "Oh man."

  His voice had taken on a quality of profound satisfaction. The kind of satisfaction that comes from hours of accumulated frustration suddenly finding an outlet.

  "Look at this big fist of mine. I think it's slowly traveling towards your face. What will I ever do."

  He stepped forward, way too eager, rolling his shoulders. "This is totally for your own good, right? So no hard feelings."

  Henry pressed himself back against the wall. "H-hold on! Can we just talk about this for a second..."

  "The method is sound," said Li Qinghua calmly from the side. "Trauma is said to open the channels. Shock the system into awareness."

  "See?" Daniel grinned. "It's for your own good."

  "That doesn't mean... I don't..." Henry's voice had gone up an octave. He looked at Li Qinghua desperately. "Isn't there literally any other way?"

  "Several. They take months. This takes seconds."

  Daniel drew back his fist.

  "Wait! Wait wait wait..."