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On a certain small hill at the outskirts of Jianghai City, there was an old pillar sparsely surrounded by trees. A young boy was sitting next to the pillar; both of his hands doing repetitive monotonous training.
He was sitting cross-legged in a lotus position like a monk, both hands continuously moving through a series of Buddhist mudras[1]. He was training the sensitivity of his fingers through this set of never-changing motions.
By going through all the motions ...
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