Hong Meiling's explanation left Hoshiguma feeling a touch disappointed, though on second thought, it made complete sense. She had heard of the traditional martial arts dojos back in Gouwu—many of them required children to be enrolled from early childhood to practice Tongzigong.
If anything, Hong Meiling's baseline requirement of fifteen or sixteen was far more lenient than most established schools.
"By the way, why fifteen or sixteen?" Hoshiguma asked, genuinely curious. "Shouldn't building a martial foundation start as young as possible?"
"There are two primary reasons," Meiling replied earnestly. "First, practicing martial arts doesn't mean one can abandon general education. Internal Energy, in particular, is intimately linked with medicine, anatomy, and meridian theory. At the very least, a practitioner must be able to read texts, understand characters, and articulate their physical sensations clearly to a master. Young children simply lack that capacity."
She paused, adjusting her posture. "Second, starting physical conditioning too early isn't necessarily beneficial. A child's skeleton hasn't fully set. Subjecting them to high-intensity structural training can cause irreversible damage to their growth plates and bone development—harm that could haunt them for a lifetime."
"Is that so?" an officer driving the transport chimed in. "I've heard that over in Gouwu, many dojos recruit kids who are only eight or nine."
"That usually comes down to one of two things," Meiling explained smoothly from a professional perspective. "One is pure profit. Frankly speaking, it's impossible for an eight-year-old to grasp the principles of Internal Martial Arts. Children are naturally restless, whereas internal styles prioritize nurturing Qi above all else. The core requirement is composure. If you can't quiet your mind, no progress can be made. Thus, those dojos can only teach external forms."
She continued, "The second reason is that the dojo teaches an unconventional, high-impact style. They mold the child's body early so their joints adapt to force vectors that defy natural mechanics."
"Bullshit!"
The bound suspect lying on the stretcher suddenly spat out a mouthful of blood and cursed violently. "If the Old Master hadn't taken us into the hall back then, we would've starved on the streets long ago! The only reason we couldn't cultivate Internal Energy was because we lacked the natural talent!"
Meiling glanced over at him calmly before gesturing toward the stretcher. "As it happens, here is a textbook example."
"These men are pure Body-Refiners. When I engaged them, I noticed their physical conditioning had reached an impressive peak—they've essentially pushed their raw physical limits as far as mortal muscle can go. Logically, they should have transitioned from external force to Internal Energy long ago."
"Yet, there isn't a single wisp of Internal Qi in their bodies," Meiling noted, shaking her head slightly. "They rely entirely on raw physical mass to overpower others. Strictly speaking, they are unrefined brutes."
"Why did this happen? According to their Guard Department files, not a single one of them is literate. Therefore, their understanding of internal martial arts relied entirely on oral instruction. But verbal teaching is inherently biased and imprecise. Even if they managed to memorize the spoken instructions, they couldn't comprehend the medical logic behind them, let alone the circulatory paths of internal force."
She looked over at the scarlet-eyed girl sitting nearby. "This is the cost of neglecting your studies. Their heads are full of muscle, devoid of actual comprehension. Flandre, remember not to follow their example."
Flandre hadn't expected to be brought into the conversation. She nodded obediently, her small chin held high. "Of course! Flandre reads plenty of books!"
Several L.G.D. officers broke into fond smiles. "Miss Flandre has even taught classes before! Her scholarly depth isn't something these barbarians could ever hope to match."
Meiling smiled gently. She knew Flandre's reading habits well enough; her reminder was mostly aimed at the officers in the vehicle, reinforcing that any child wanting to master martial arts should master literacy first.
In her view, studying literature until age fifteen gave a child solid character recognition and critical thinking. Spending three years from fifteen to eighteen building a physical foundation, then beginning internal cultivation at eighteen, would yield substantial mastery by twenty-five. While they might not become grandmasters of a grand sect, they could easily handle ten ordinary opponents at once. Beyond that, further progress was a matter of patience, talent, and luck.
Her breakdown carried such quiet authority that everyone in the transport was thoroughly convinced.
As for the cursing suspect on the stretcher, the officers had zero intention of letting him vent any further. Before he could squeeze out another sentence, an operator shoved a heavy ball gag securely into his mouth.
When the convoy pulled into the Guard Department headquarters, Meiling watched the medical team haul the stretchers inside. She turned to Ch'en and Hoshiguma.
"Those suspects possess formidable raw physical strength. Be careful they don't launch a desperate counterattack once they regain full consciousness. It might be best to keep their restraints locked tight."
Hoshiguma chuckled warmly. "Don't worry, we have a long-standing protocol for handling self-proclaimed 'martial artists.'"
"Oh?" Meiling raised an eyebrow, curious.
"Simple," Ch'en said calmly, stepping alongside them. "We starve them for two days."
Meiling blinked, stunned for a fraction of a second, before bursting into delighted laughter. She gave Ch'en a firm thumbs-up.
"A brilliant solution! For external martial artists, physical energy is their greatest bottleneck. Because they lack internal Qi and rely entirely on massive muscle mass, two days without food will drain their reserves far faster than an ordinary person's. By day two, their limbs won't have enough strength to lift a cup."
Meiling had worried their physical edge might let them overpower standard guards during processing. But the L.G.D.'s tactic cut the problem out at the root. Brutes who honed pure muscle required massive daily caloric intake. Two days of fast would leave their limbs rubbery and useless.
It was crude, practical, and incredibly effective. Afterward, providing minimal rations kept them stable without giving them the strength to cause trouble—and legally, brief dietary restriction during initial high-risk processing hardly constituted abuse.
By the time the four of them walked back into the Major Crimes Unit, Beatrice was already waiting near the front desk. Patchouli was still sitting quietly on the bench, her nose buried in the exact same leather-bound book as when they left.
The moment Beatrice spotted the returning group, her posture stiffened.
"Well, well! Here I am, running all over the administrative wing to process your formal Lungmen Residence Permits, and you two turn around and take Flandre out on a police raid? Today is her very first day back!"
Noticing Beatrice's exasperated look, Flandre rushed forward and tugged gently at her sleeve.
"Sister Beatrice, don't be mad! I asked to go myself! We just happened to run into the case, and Sister Ch'en and Sister Hoshiguma wanted to see Meiling's skills. So I brought Meiling along to show off a little!"
Beatrice turned her sharp gaze to Hoshiguma, who nodded with absolute honesty.
"A steel security door ten centimeters thick..." Hoshiguma reported, her voice still laced with faint disbelief. "She blew the door and the entire concrete frame outward with a single palm strike, pinning the man behind it flat into the far wall."
Beatrice's eyes widened in shock as she spun to look at the calm, smiling Hong Meiling. Her expression practically screamed a single question: Is this woman even human?