As the tiger's body was being packed, the jungle stood still. The group, battered and bruised, didn't dare move, unsure whether they should celebrate or just collapse on the spot. The tiger, now resting in eternal slumber, had finally been taken down, but the real battle was over—keeping their legs from turning into jelly.
Zhao Jun panted heavily, leaning against a tree. "I swear, that thing was built out of steel," he muttered, giving Li Wei a sideways glance. "Next time, let's just hunt rabbits."
Li Wei didn't bother responding, mostly because he was trying to remember how to breathe like a normal person. His body, still stiff from holding tiger-like stances, wasn't helping. He stared at the tiger's lifeless form, his thoughts drifting.
"There's something to learn from this tiger," Li Wei finally said, his voice steady. "It was flexible, it adapted, it…"
"…tried to kill us," Zhao Jun finished. "Great lesson."
Ignoring him, Li Wei crouched down, examining the tiger's pose. "I'm serious. I think I could create a new pose from this. Something to strengthen my body, like… Tiger Escapes the Trap. All about flexibility, adapting to your surroundings."
Zhao Jun snorted. "Tiger escapes the trap? Sounds like you're escaping this hunt without lifting anything heavy."
"Maybe," Li Wei mused. "But imagine it. You pose like a tiger, breathe deeply, and voilà—instant strength boost."
Zhao Jun raised an eyebrow. "So, you're going to crouch like a tiger... and then imagine you're one?"
"Exactly."
Zhao Jun shook his head. "That might just be crazy enough to work."
Old Chen, the hunter, who'd been listening in, chuckled. "Or you'll just get stuck in the pose and need someone to pry you out."
Task 2: Make Shorter and More Realistic
Chapter Title: The Search for the Elusive Eleventh Pose
The tiger's heaving breaths echoed through the clearing, marking the end of a grueling hunt. As the group caught their breath, the once-mighty predator lay still on the blood-stained grass, its fierce gaze unbroken even in death.
Li Wei stood, sword in hand, sweat dripping down his face. His muscles ached from the back-and-forth battle that had dragged on far longer than anyone expected. "Even injured, it didn't give up," he muttered.
Zhao Jun, leaning on a tree, nodded, his face still pale from exhaustion. "Toughest thing I've ever fought. Let's never do that again."
Old Chen approached cautiously, eyes scanning the jungle. "We should finish it. A wounded tiger's still dangerous."
Li Wei stepped forward, his eyes never leaving the tiger. There was something more to this creature—something beyond its strength. As he knelt beside it, feeling its scarred fur, a thought crept into his mind. "There's a lesson here," he said quietly.
Zhao Jun, catching his contemplative look, frowned. "You're not about to suggest something crazy, are you?"
Li Wei straightened, his expression serious. "I think this tiger's movements—its ability to evade our traps—could be a new pose for the Tiger Boxing Manual."
Zhao Jun groaned. "You can't be serious. You're thinking of adding a new pose? That's not possible. Most techniques have been made my far superior martial artist then refined from one generation to generation, They are almost perfected."
Li Wei nodded. "Yes. That's true."
Zhao Jun shook his head but couldn't suppress a grin. "You always come up with the weirdest ideas, Wei."
With the tiger dead, the group turned to their next task: preparing the body for transport. They worked quickly and efficiently, the jungle's quiet returning as they reflected on the long hunt. No celebrations followed—just the satisfaction of a job well done.
Li Wei's mind, however, remained on the new pose. This hunt hadn't just been a hunt for him but a inspiration to create and make the manual better.
And that was the another victory.
Li Wei returned to the village quietly after the hunt. His steps were steady, his body relaxed, but his mind wandered. The villagers went about their usual tasks, sparing him only a few casual nods. That suited him just fine. He wasn't seeking praise. His thoughts were already fixated on the Tiger Boxing Manual and the elusive 11th pose that had been swirling in his mind since the tiger hunt.
As soon as he reached home, Li Wei wasted no time. He went straight to the yard, his mind already racing through his routine. Flowing through the ten familiar poses, his movements were fluid, practiced, each breath timed with precision. But when he tried to introduce the 11th pose, something felt… off. His arms swept forward, mimicking the crouching stance of the tiger, but the flow was broken, awkward.
He tried again, adjusting his stance, but it still didn't work. It was like trying to force a square peg into a round hole. The new pose simply didn't connect with the others. He paused, staring off into the distant mountains, feeling a mixture of clarity and confusion. He wasn't frustrated, just… stuck. The tiger had inspired him, but this new idea wasn't coming together as easily as he'd hoped.
With a sigh, Li Wei knew he'd have to turn to his elders for advice. If anyone could offer insight, it would be his grandfather or father—two men who had spent their lives refining the Tiger Boxing Manual. And if they couldn't help, well, at least they'd tell him if he was wasting his time.
The Next Morning
Li Wei found his grandfather sitting outside, sharpening a blade, as usual. The old man didn't bother with greetings, and neither did Li Wei. He cut straight to the point.
"I'm trying to add an 11th pose to the Tiger Boxing Manual," Li Wei said. "But it's not working."
Without looking up, his grandfather gave a low grunt. "Tried that too when I was young. Didn't work."
Li Wei blinked, waiting for more. His grandfather wasn't one for long speeches, but surely, there had to be more than just that.
"The manual is what it is for a reason. Perfected over time. If you want to add something, know it inside out first. Don't waste time on what's not ready."
It was classic advice—simple and direct. Li Wei nodded, absorbing the lesson. Master what you have first, then think about adding more. There was no point in rushing.
Later, He Sought His Father
His father was training in the yard, as usual. After a brief greeting, Li Wei posed the same question.
His father paused, considering the idea. "New poses aren't impossible," he said, wiping sweat from his brow. "But they aren't necessary either. Focus on the core of the manual. Get stronger, not more complicated. If the 11th pose comes, it'll come naturally. You might need knowledge of other body forging manual and more inspiration as well."
Li Wei let that sink in. His father had a point. He had been forcing the idea, trying to mold the pose from sheer willpower. Perhaps it was better to let it evolve on its own.
One Month Later
For weeks, Li Wei tried to focus solely on refining his current skills, leaving the 11th pose aside. His routine was steady, his progress consistent, but every now and then, he'd find his mind drifting back to the tiger—its fluidity, its cunning.
The 11th pose hadn't come together yet, but that was fine. For now, he was content with the knowledge that, in time, it would. Maybe he'd figure it out when he wasn't looking for it, just like how the tiger had slipped through the jungle when they weren't watching closely enough.
Zhao Jun teased him about it whenever he brought it up. "Still trying to be a tiger, Wei? Or have you finally realized that crouching like one doesn't make you one?"
Li Wei smirked. "Give me time, Zhao Jun. I'll get there."