Venerable Hong gave a wave of his hand, indicating no need for formalities. As he was about to help Gao rise, his senior disciple Gong Hong protested, saying the master was showing favoritism. Back then, when he first came to join the monastery, he had knelt at the mountain gate for three full days and nights, only then moved Venerable Hong to accept him as a disciple. Now, this new student had simply arrived unexpectedly and was accepted without such a prolonged effort—wasn't that unfair? We cheer for Hongda's openness and generosity. All of Ying'er's efforts are only visible to her master—Gao Liang. Gao Liang gives her a grateful glance at this moment. With her wings outstretched like an angel, she speaks in a heavenly voice: "Master! Hongda Venerable is indeed a master of profound martial arts wisdom—please take good note of him! I stayed up all night yesterday just thinking about your matter!" Only now does Gao Liang notice the dark circles under Ying'er's eyes. It dawns on him: how could the DVD of Shaolin Temple have gone missing? Ah, Ying'er has been watching martial arts films all along! Since Shaolin's martial arts are world-renowned, she has made it her mission to come here and study under the guidance of the monks. Indeed, Ying'er has fulfilled my very martial arts dream! Shaolin Monastery has many martial arts traditions, but Shao-Huang isn't sure exactly which ones he'll learn—only that he's deeply interested. The abbot specially assigned a young monk named Lin Tianhao to guide him around the monastery. Lin led Shao-Huang through both the outer and inner courtyards, pointing to a large tree planted in the courtyard. At a height of about two people, several holes were visible on the tree trunk. "These are the holes made by the 'Jinglong Finger' technique," Lin explained. Wow! To reach that height and press holes into the hard tree bark with just one's fingers—definitely requires both exceptional agility and the powerful 'Jinglong Finger' technique. In the inner hall's training hall, the stone floor had already begun to show signs of wear. Shao-Huang had just been about to ask whether the lack of maintenance funds had caused the deterioration, when Lin Tianhao casually added, "These marks were made when the early Shaolin monks practiced their martial arts and stepped on them over time." With just a simple remark, Shaolin's martial arts traditions gained even more mystery. Shao-Huang immediately requested to train alongside the young monk every day. The next morning at three o'clock, Gao Liang was still half-asleep when a voice gently called out, "Master! Wake up! Wake up!" Gao Liang and the Shaolin disciple had practiced their kung fu for hours, and his body ached terribly—how could he possibly rise so quickly? Ying'er fluttered her wings against Gao Liang's face, making him itch, but he still wouldn't open his eyes. "You're still lazy after all! Hmph!" Ying'er grew increasingly frustrated, having followed such a sluggish master—she was both angry and impatient. She inserted a DVD into Gao Liang's supercomputer and turned the speaker volume to maximum. "Ah! Watch this iron fist!" Gao Liang was startled by the lifelike effect, and quickly exclaimed, "Don't hit me! Don't hit me!" But with a sharp crash, the iron fist, accompanied by a rushing wind, struck someone squarely. "Ah!" came a sharp cry, and Gao Liang shot straight out of bed, his entire body bristling with gooseflesh. It wasn't until later that he realized it was Ying'er who had caused the commotion, and he immediately grew angry, donning just a single garment to chase after her. Ying'er laughed continuously, her little wings fluttering swiftly, while Gao Liang desperately tried to keep up. By this time, Ying'er had memorized the morning running route from the Shaolin Temple to the mountain top inside and out. Gao Liang, however, was out of breath—never having run uphill before! His physical condition was already not very strong, and how could he endure such continuous running? His heart pounded vigorously. He finally sat down on a large stone halfway up the mountain, gasping for air. Ying'er kept urging him, but Gao Liang stared at her stubbornly, motionless. He waited patiently halfway up the mountain for the young monks to arrive. The distance from the Shaolin Temple to Damo Cave was several kilometers, with numerous staircases—climbing up truly took its toll. Around five in the morning, Gao Liang spotted the young monks departing from the back courtyard. Gao Liang was at mid-slope, while they were at the base of the mountain—without waiting for them to climb up, he headed straight for the summit, aiming to capture with his high-end computer equipped with a camera the moment they reached the top. Yet it was strange: when Gao Liang and Ying'er arrived at the Dharma Pavilion at the summit after climbing several kilometers, his brothers-in-arms had already been waiting for them there. "These are all vigorous routes—essentials of Shaolin martial arts—which Gaoling has long admired. He has been earnestly pleading with the senior abbot Hong Da, who came to inspect him. Abbot Hong, with his kind and gentle expression, gently stroked the Buddhist beads hanging at his neck, and with a calm demeanor said, 'I've watched your entire ascent. You climb only 30 steps per minute, and even while running. As my disciple, you must achieve an average of 120 steps per minute. If you reach that standard, I will formally teach you the techniques. How about that?' '120? That's going to kill me! I'm not doing it!' Gaoling stared at the abbot, stunned. Beside him, his senior brother Gong Honglai looked at Gaoling with disdain, saying, 'Master, didn't you see? Even this modest standard he can't meet. Clearly, he's not made of martial arts material!' 'Brother! When I first started, I too managed only 30 steps per minute. I built up my strength step by step. Don't underestimate Gaoling, please!' Young disciple Lin Tianhao replied with a look of indifference. What made Guo Huang most afraid was being looked down upon. Seeing Gong Hong arrive with a look of disdain, he immediately recalled the way his homeroom teacher, Liu He-Gou, had always regarded him. Honestly, he didn’t mind being looked down upon—he just feared not living up to his own expectations. To prove to himself that he was a man, he was willing to risk everything. So Guo Huang clenched his fists and, in front of Hong Da the Abbot and the other Shaolin monks, declared: “I believe! I can! I will!” The Abbot’s eyes narrowed into a thin slit, and he watched Guo Huang with great appreciation, then simply said, “Go ahead and make your own way.” As the Abbot drifted away like a crane, Guo Huang made up his mind: from this moment on, I will train diligently!