As Li Wei turned four, it became painfully clear to him that training in this world wasn't going to be all sunshine and naps. His father, always watching with that faint glimmer of pride (and perhaps a bit of sadistic joy), decided it was time for Li Wei to inherit the family's grand legacy: the Tiger Boxing Manual.
One misty morning, Li Wei found himself in a secluded clearing, feeling the weight of the moment and wishing it had been weightless enough to sleep through. His father moved like a tiger—a very intense tiger who had obviously skipped napping lessons. Each pose was a masterclass in power, grace, and balance. Li Wei's sleepy mind, however, was stuck on the fact that there were ten whole poses in this manual. Ten! That sounded exhausting.
"This is the Tiger Boxing Manual," his father said, his voice as firm as the punch Li Wei hoped he wouldn't receive today. "Master two poses, and you earn one star of mastery. Master all ten, and you'll reach the peak of a 3rd-rate warrior—maybe even 2nd-rate if you're gifted."
Li Wei nodded, though inside he was panicking a little. Ten poses? He barely mastered getting out of bed in the morning, and that was after negotiating a peace treaty with his pillow.
Then, a stroke of genius hit him—a plan born from the depths of his laziness. Atomic Habits, that life-changing book he'd read in his last life, had a strategy for this exact kind of problem. It was all about small, incremental changes—like, really small. Just enough to fool his lazy brain into thinking he wasn't actually working.
"When do we start?" he asked, with a calmness that only someone planning to outwit his own body could muster.
His father smiled, clearly misinterpreting Li Wei's question as enthusiasm. "Now."
From that day, Li Wei's routine shifted, though not quite in the way his father might have imagined. Sure, he was training hard—on paper. But in reality, Li Wei had set up a schedule based on tiny, laughably easy goals. Atomic Habits 101: start small.
His first goal? Just stand in the Crouching Tiger pose for one minute. That's it. No need to leap around like a deranged cat. Just one minute of standing still. Even he could manage that. Over time, he would increase the time by 10 seconds a day, no need to rush. Progress is progress.
His second goal? Drink water. That counted as a healthy habit, right? Hydration was key to success—or at least that's what he told himself as he sipped lazily from his water gourd between sets.
Li Wei also discovered that if he added a tiny reward system—like sitting down after each successful minute of Tiger Stance—it made training feel almost... bearable. That's right, he'd found a loophole in the world of martial arts: progress through procrastination!
His father, however, remained blissfully unaware. "Breathe like the tiger," he'd say. Li Wei would nod sagely, all while secretly thinking about how well he was breathing… sitting down.
The first pose, Crouching Tiger, was deceptively simple. Well, simple if you weren't breaking it down into microscopic steps like Li Wei was. "First, bend the knees. Good. Now, maintain balance. Great. Feel the tiger within you..." Feel the tiger? Li Wei barely felt like a housecat most days, let alone a tiger.
Still, Li Wei kept up his slow and steady strategy. If he had to do this training thing, he was going to do it his way. By the time he turned five, he had actually mastered the first pose, albeit at a pace that could best be described as "turtle-on-vacation." But it worked! He'd made it a habit—standing like a tiger without immediately wanting to collapse into a nap afterward. Atomic Habits, for the win.
One evening, his grandfather brought him a special treat: the family's secret medicinal soup, made with tiger bones, which supposedly had magical properties. Li Wei took one sip, nearly gagged, and immediately set a new micro-habit: Drink the soup without dying.
Despite its taste resembling fermented socks, the soup did help. It warmed his body, fortifying his muscles and bones. Not that he felt any sudden burst of energy or strength. This was still a slow burn. But just like the atomic habits he was building, he knew that consistency would pay off. Eventually.
By the time he turned seven, Li Wei had slowly, methodically, and with the efficiency of someone actively trying to avoid working too hard, mastered four poses of the Tiger Boxing Manual. He'd earned his second star of mastery and garnered a bit of awe from the villagers. Not that Li Wei noticed much—he was too busy perfecting his newest habit: getting eight hours of sleep to "recover from training."
Villagers whispered in amazement at his progress, but Li Wei just smiled to himself, satisfied with his quiet victories. He wasn't training to be a hero or the strongest warrior in the world. No, his goal was simple: master martial arts without giving up his love for lounging. And, thanks to his trusty Atomic Habits approach, he was well on his way to doing just that.