The Way of Restraint

Chapter 72: Mental Suggestion – The Dao Is Hard to Attain but Easy to Lose

“What a pity. Liu Long lost to Thailand’s Banjalong in the ‘Battle of the Gods’ in Las Vegas the day before yesterday. I watched that match—what a shame. If he had won, his world ranking would’ve broken into the top ten.”

Old Chen seemed very invested in combat sports, watching every match. Though he was getting on in years, his ambition still soared.

“Before the tournament, Banjalong secluded himself in a temple for three months to train in the Ten Impurities. His mindset after that was nearly unshakable. As soon as I saw Liu Long, I knew he was bound to lose,” Master Ma sighed.

“What are the Ten Impurities?” Su Jie asked.

“The Ten Impurities are a practice from ancient times, where cultivators would observe the various states of a decomposing corpse to develop aversion and detachment—thus realizing the impermanence of life and death,” Master Ma patiently explained. “It’s a form of meditation, essentially a psychological suggestion technique. The Ten Impurities refer to: the bloated phase, the livid phase, the festering phase, the dismembered phase, the eaten-away phase, the scattered phase, the hacked-and-scattered phase, the blood-smeared phase, the maggot-infested phase, and the skeletal phase. In ancient India, or Tianzhu as they called it, corpses were thrown into the Ganges after death. The bodies would bloat, ooze pus, grow maggots, get partially eaten by animals—it was horrifying. But after seeing it enough, people developed a mindset that life and death were just part of the cycle. Later practitioners refined this method, teaching people how to use psychological suggestion to face death without fear—because, sooner or later, everyone ends up like those corpses. No one escapes.”

“Psychological suggestion…” Su Jie nodded. “If someone truly comes to terms with life and death through training, their mentality in a competition would be terrifying. They could perform several times better than their actual strength.”

“Psychological suggestion training is extremely important for athletes,” Master Ma said, still shaking his head. “It’s a pity. If I had given Liu Long some psychological guidance, he definitely could’ve beaten Banjalong.”

Su Jie understood this well. Top fighters didn’t just have doctors on their team—they also had psychological counselors. Before major competitions, they’d receive mental coaching. Without it, even the strongest athlete could crack under pressure and lose.

There were plenty of cases where a physically weaker athlete, with a better mental state, performed above expectations and beat a much stronger opponent who ended up completely disoriented.

“All right, let’s change the topic.” Master Ma noticed Su Jie had grasped something. “Psychology is a deep field, and we’re all still feeling our way through it. The whole world is just beginning to explore it. As human material needs become increasingly satisfied, the mind is becoming more and more hollow. That’s why it needs more reinforcement and training.”

“Manman, I’m guessing the reason you brought little Su Jie here isn’t just to visit me,” Master Ma asked again.

“Actually, my dad sent me back to China to start a business. I did some research and chose to develop in S City. I was hoping to tap into your connections, Uncle Ma,” Zhang Manman said bluntly.

“No problem. Old Ghost Li will be here soon. I’ll introduce you,” Master Ma replied.

“Master Ma, you mentioned seeing someone who reached the ‘Living Dead’ state. Who were they?” Su Jie asked.

“Manman’s dad is one of them,” Master Ma said casually.

“What?” Su Jie was stunned. He hadn’t expected Zhang Manman’s father to be such an expert.

“My dad’s that kind of expert?” Zhang Manman seemed unaware herself.

“There’s also a foreigner named Odell,” Master Ma mentioned with admiration. “That guy is incredibly formidable. He’s studied every classic from history to philosophy, and he’s mastered cultures from around the world. His mental level is exceptionally profound. He might even break through the psychological state of the ‘Living Dead’ and reach another realm entirely.”

“What kind of realm is that?” Su Jie perked up at the mention of Odell. He’d long suspected the foreign coach wasn’t ordinary—but he hadn’t expected him to be this powerful.

“It should be the level where one sees through the illusions of self, others, all living beings, and time and space—resonating spiritually with a certain truth,” Master Ma said thoughtfully. “I’ve never actually seen anyone reach that mental and spiritual state. I’ve traveled the world in search of such people but found none. It’s only recorded in ancient texts.”

“Master Ma, do you think there’s supernatural power in this world?” Su Jie had heard these words before—from Uncle Mang.

“Of course there is,” Master Ma replied. “Our Earth is nothing more than a speck of dust in the vast universe. Even within Earth’s own several billion years of history, human civilization only takes up a tiny slice of a few thousand years. What does that amount to? Pitifully small. Do you really think Earth holds the only civilization in the entire universe? What is the truth of the universe? No one can say for sure. What exists in the endless starry skies? It’s still a mystery waiting to be uncovered.”

“That’s true,” Su Jie nodded. He knew that was a matter far beyond their current reach.

“We’re drifting off topic,” Old Chen said. “Old Ma, you’ve been all over the world. What other masters have you seen?”

“There might be a few more, but I can’t say for certain. Some are purely spiritual cultivators who’ve never practiced martial arts,” Master Ma said.

Su Jie knew that mental cultivation and martial arts were two different things.

A skilled martial artist wasn’t necessarily someone with a refined spiritual state, and someone with a high spiritual state wasn’t necessarily good at martial arts.

However, for a martial arts expert to reach a higher level, they definitely needed to improve their mental resilience and spiritual cultivation.

On the other hand, someone with a high spiritual state might not train in combat but could still have excellent health. And if they did choose to train, their progress would skyrocket.

This idea was quite prominent in Confucian philosophy.

Lately, Su Jie had been reading a lot of Confucian texts, especially The Great Learning, the first chapter of the Four Books, which focused on cultivating mental resilience and spiritual depth.

“Only after one knows where to stop can one have stability. With stability, one can be calm. When calm, one can be at ease. When at ease, one can deliberate. Only through deliberation can one attain results. Everything has a root and a branch, a beginning and an end. To understand what comes first and what follows is to be near the Way.”

He recited the passage aloud.

“This is the opening line from The Great Learning, laying out its core message. It teaches that one must first set a clear goal to firm up their resolve. With that resolve comes composure, and from composure comes inner peace. Only with inner peace can one think clearly, and only through clear thought can one achieve meaningful results. Everything has a true essence and an outward appearance; every matter has a start and an end. Once you understand both appearance and reality, beginning and end, you’re close to discovering truth,” Master Ma said, observing Su Jie’s thoughtful expression. “Looks like you’ve come to understand something. Confucianism ruled China for two thousand years for a reason—it’s powerful.”

“To study true Confucianism, the Four Books and Five Classics are enough. Their sense of righteousness, hatred of evil, and emphasis on personal cultivation all follow a clear set of principles. If you live by them, your every action will align with the way of the sages—‘the sage moves like a machine, unerring in every motion,’” Old Chen said. “I used to prefer Daoism, but the older I get, the more I realize that the essence of Confucian thought is invaluable. It’s a shame things are so backwards nowadays. Society treats something like the Filial Piety in the Confucian Tradition as a classic. That thing was written by some scholar in the Qing dynasty to turn people into kowtowing bootlickers. Just thinking about it pisses me off. One time, some so-called ‘master of traditional culture’ wanted to partner with me, said he’d bring that stuff into my Tai Chi academy to help students better respect their teachers. I kicked him out after a verbal thrashing. Damn nonsense. What era do they think this is? Confucius would be turning in his grave.”

Old Chen had always been an easygoing Tai Chi master, but in the middle of chatting, he suddenly launched into a tirade. Yet Su Jie found it kind of endearing. The old man suddenly felt like one of those grandpas you see chatting in the park—down-to-earth and familiar.

He wasn’t some lofty Tai Chi master anymore, just a regular old man complaining about the world, burdened by daily life, weighed down by worries and frustrations—someone who also had moments of helplessness.

But he still lived happily, with energy and passion.

All of a sudden, a warm current surged up from the depths of Su Jie’s heart. He felt as if life had become brighter. Everyone and everything around him seemed kind and pleasant to the eye.

It was as though he had become a pure, innocent child, seeing only the good in the world. But he was not like a child—he could still clearly distinguish right from wrong, good from evil.

At every moment, he was joyful, filled with emotion for the world. A faint warmth rippled in his heart.

However, that feeling didn’t last more than a few breaths before it began to fade, and Su Jie returned to normal.

“Hm?”

Master Ma seemed to sense something. He looked at Su Jie in surprise. “Kid, did you just have a breakthrough? No way. I felt a strong aura of affinity coming from you.”

He studied him more closely, then shook his head. “What a shame. You didn’t hold onto it. If you had, I’d have witnessed a miracle. That would’ve been of great benefit to my own cultivation too.”

“That feeling just now was really wonderful.” Su Jie shook his head, trying to recall that joy and emotion. He wanted to grasp it again, but unfortunately, it had slipped away—gone just like that, never to return.

Deep down, he felt empty, like a child who had lost his favorite toy and was so sad he could cry.

“You’ve already experienced it. It slipped away, yes, but you can find it again,” Master Ma said with a smile. “Next time it shows up, hold on to it—keep it. Then let us have a look.”

“Thank you all,” Su Jie said as he stood and gave a deep bow.

“Kid, make time to hang out more often,” Old Chen said, walking over to pat Su Jie’s shoulder. “Old Ma and I are your elder brothers now.”

“That’s right,” Master Ma agreed with a nod.

Zhang Manman wore a look of utter surprise on her face, but it was also tinged with joy. She knew that both Old Chen and Old Ma were extremely well connected, and it was rare for them to acknowledge someone—especially a young person.

“I wouldn’t dare,” Su Jie said, shaking his head repeatedly. “From now on, I’ll just have to keep learning from the two of you.”

As they spoke, the sound of a car came from outside.

More guests were arriving.

“Old Ghost Li is here,” said Master Ma.

“Xiao Mo, go greet him.”

“Yes, Teacher.” Xiao Mo quickly went down and opened the door to the courtyard. A few minutes later, another middle-aged man came in, accompanied by a young man.

“Hm?” Su Jie recognized the young man—it was one of the rich brats who hung around with Lu Shu and the others.

He remembered this guy from that day. The young man had kept his head down, playing with his phone, but was actually sneaking glances and observing everything. He was clearly very calculating.