“...The Yanqing Sect. I seem to recall it being mentioned in Huo's Wrestling Method.”
Watching the group walk away into the distance, Lian Youming felt his mind gradually settle.
Just then, he felt a tug at his sleeve. Turning his head, he saw Xie Ruomei holding her small notebook and pointing at the words written on it.
“That old gentleman is a good man.”
Lian Youming brushed the frost and snow from his clothes, saying dismissively, “Of course I know he's a good man. If he weren't, the ones who hadn't made a move yet would already be flat on the ground.”
Xie Ruomei seemed quite dissatisfied with this response. She scribbled a few more words and thrust the notebook up in midair before Lian Youming.
“He was the one who taught me kung fu.”
Seeing these words, a strange look crossed Lian Youming's eyes, and he knitted his brows. “The old man taught you your martial arts?”
Xie Ruomei was at a loss for words, only able to clutch the hem of her jacket in restless unease.
A thought suddenly struck Lian Youming, and he asked hesitantly, “Why did you practice martial arts? You're not planning to settle the grudge yourself, are you? From what that old man said, you'd have to fight nine bouts in a row. How is that any different from seeking death?”
The young girl lifted her head and wrote a few more words, pressing so hard that the pencil tore through the paper.
“Our family owes them. I want to pay it back.”
Lian Youming sighed. “Those were all the sins Xie Laosan committed; they have nothing to do with you. Besides, with a constitution like yours—sallow, gaunt, without an ounce of meat on your bones—circulating your qi twice would exhaust you to death.”
Yet Xie Ruomei showed a frightening stubbornness. Her hands gestured frantically, and she wrote and sketched in a rush. But as she wrote, tears welled in her eyes once more. In the end, she simply hugged her knees and buried her face, weeping softly beside him.
Lian Youming said helplessly, “Don't cry. I won't make fun of you anymore. Since he's a good man, you should have had the chance to leave.”
With reddened eyes, Xie Ruomei quickly scrawled another line.
“He said I'm safest staying here, otherwise people from the White Lotus Sect will hurt me... I don't want to leave either...”
“So that's how it is.” Gazing at the girl's stubborn eyes, Lian Youming spoke before she could write anything more. “You don't want to leave? You feel that no matter where you go, you can never wash away Xie Laosan's sins. Rather than living like that, you'd rather be beaten to death on the challenge stage to satisfy their craving for revenge and dissolve this hatred once and for all.”
Seeing her fall silent, he continued, “So the old man was mindful of his past bond with Xie Laosan. Discovering what you intended, he wanted to secretly help you. No wonder that fellow said something about 'a wicked man turning back'...”
Lian Youming finally understood.
Xie Ruomei was swallowing humiliation and shouldering the burden, intending to use her life to cleanse the stain left by Xie Laosan.
“In that case, the old man might have been waiting all along for your grandfather to turn back. Sadly, he never lived to see that day... but he got me instead.”
His arrival had allowed the old man to deduce Xie Laosan's final choice and glimpse the repentance in Xie Laosan's heart before his death. Only then had the elder stepped out.
“Was Xie Laosan missing a piece of his brain? With such a good brother and such a good granddaughter, he still managed to stray so far off course.”
Lian Youming let out a long breath.
It was truly frustrating, yet undeniably, it was precisely things like this that gave this jianghu flesh and blood, making it come alive.
Mountains of vengeance and seas of bitterness; the jianghu never changed.
No matter how the world transformed, whether in ancient times or the present day, some might disdain Xie Ruomei's choice as troublesome, pedantic, or even foolish, but it was by no means laughable.
Wanting to pay back what was owed had never been a laughing matter.
“No wonder a little girl like you could survive safe and sound until today. It was probably that old man protecting you, and the people lurking in the shadows might be tied to him as well.”
In the end, Lian Youming still shook his head. “You two wanted to dissolve this grudge openly and honorably, but you're far too outmatched... Still, heh, I'm here now. Fighting one match is fighting, and fighting two is fighting just the same. Xie Laosan thought highly of me, so I'll shoulder this burden. From now on, you can catch your breath and do what you actually want to do.”
With that, he pulled the two thousand yuan from his pocket once more. “I didn't bring much. If it isn't enough later, come find me. But on this trip, I'm settling accounts with the Eagle Claw Sect; whether I can come back alive is another question. Take the money for now... Don't refuse. Xie Laosan told me to give it to you.”
Seeing the money Lian Youming pushed into her hands, Xie Ruomei's eyes reddened instantly.
Lian Youming felt a headache coming on and sighed. “Hold back those tears right now. I'm not doing this for Xie Laosan, and certainly not for you. I'm upholding my own dao. If not for that, I wouldn't have made this trip at all.”
As he spoke, both of them suddenly felt a chill against their cheeks. Looking up, they saw flakes of snow drifting down from the sky.
The old snow had not even melted, yet it was falling again.
Gazing at Lian Youming's upturned profile, Xie Ruomei's eyes suddenly lit up. Her hands gestured rapidly, and she let out two muted cries before turning and rushing into the house. From a pile of old books, she dug out an illustrated booklet.
Puzzled, Lian Youming took it and flipped it open, only to find figures shifting and leaping sketched across the pages, though the draftsmanship was exceedingly crude.
Immediately after, Xie Ruomei swiftly wrote several words: “I drew it... Eagle Claw Fist... to help you...”
The snow fell heavier and heavier.
Outside the door, snowflakes fluttered, white as a hanging curtain; inside, the two sat around the stove. Xie Ruomei not only brought out the illustrated manual of the Eagle Claw Fist, but also broke down each move and stance one by one. Though her martial skill was shallow—crude, even—the variations in the techniques alone were enough to grant him an extra fraction of a chance at victory.
Lian Youming certainly would not underestimate that fraction. Sometimes, the decisive key between victory and defeat came down to a razor-thin margin.
When he arrived, only three days remained before the New Year. One day had been spent on the train, and counting today, only a single day was left before his appointed duel with the Eagle Claw Sect.
Lian Youming drew his mind inward, shedding all stray thoughts and casting aside every distraction. While watching Xie Ruomei drill the Eagle Claw Fist, his mind was rapidly conceiving counter-strategies.
By now, his tai chi possessed the interplay of hardness and softness—his fist hit like a heavy hammer, and his palm softened into Cotton Palm. With an internal elixir art like the Toad Fishing Skill to rely on and the Golden Bell Shield as hidden assurance, he was well-equipped for both offense and defense.
Yet all of that was merely groundwork. The true lethal strike for this battle lay elsewhere.
After watching for only a few moments, however, Lian Youming's expression changed abruptly. He stopped Xie Ruomei's movements and gently pulled her collar aside, revealing three purplish-black finger marks bruised deep into her neck. They gripped a vital point; once force was applied, it would be a lethal kill-stroke.
“The Eagle Claw martial art?”
Lian Youming raised an eyebrow and rolled up the girl's sleeve. Looking at the dark bruises that had nearly faded on her arm, he slowly stood up, a chilling, uncanny grin spreading across his face.
“What a bunch of scum who deserve nothing less than death.”
He turned to head outside, but Xie Ruomei grabbed hold of him.
Meeting the girl's eyes, Lian Youming suddenly regained his calm and sat cross-legged back on the ground.
Only one day left.
He could wait.
He remained seated straight through to the dead of night as the vast snowfall continued without pause.
Xie Ruomei sat before the stove wrapped in a tattered quilt. When Lian Youming told her to go to sleep, she stubbornly refused. With her narrow, willow-leaf eyes wide open, neither smiling nor making a sound, she simply watched him quietly.
Lian Youming felt somewhat uncomfortable under her gaze. “What are you looking at me for? Is there something on my face?”
Xie Ruomei wrote: “If you die, I will go to the Eagle Claw Sect too.”
Lian Youming stared blankly for a moment, then said softly, “You don't need to do that. On this journey, whether facing the Eagle Claw Sect or protecting you, I am doing it only to prove my own heart.”
“What a fine 'proving your own heart'!”
Abruptly, the door swung wide. Frost and snow swirled inward, accompanied by a low, gravelly voice drifting through the threshold.
Lian Youming raised his cold gaze. The visitor was none other than the old man from that morning.
“What guidance do you have, Senior?”
Standing in the wind and snow with no intention of stepping inside, the old man said calmly, “The Baji Sect disciple you met on the train can be considered my grand-disciple.”
Lian Youming chuckled coldly. “Can be considered? You're not thinking of playing the same routine as the Eagle Claw Sect, are you?”
The skin on the old man's face twitched. His aged eyes reflected the firelight inside the room as he spoke unhurriedly: “The sect master of the Eagle Claw Sect has been missing for many years. Vice Sect Master Tan Fei joined with prior martial arts training back in the day; his ancestors were Eight Banners nobility. Not only is he proficient in Manchu and Mongolian wrestling, but he is also on good terms with several other sects, effectively blending the strengths of various schools. You have no sect and no backing, all on your own—how do you expect to fight him?”
Lian Youming gave a sinister laugh. “I know what you're trying to say. You just think I'm some reckless brat who doesn't know the height of the heavens or the depth of the earth. But in this jianghu, who cares what others think? In my eyes, one should act with chivalry and walk with righteousness. Beneath my feet lies only the broad and upright path, and nothing else. Whoever dares cross me, I'll beat every last one of them into the dirt.”
The old man gave a slight nod, then stepped aside. “Did you hear what he said clearly?”
These words were not addressed to Lian Youming, but to someone else.
Lian Youming narrowed his eyes and saw an honest, simple middle-aged man standing behind the elder. Looking like an ordinary peasant in a blue worker's uniform, plain in appearance and solemn in expression, he had a noticeable slap mark across one cheek. Cupping his hands toward Lian Youming, he spoke in a deep, muffled voice: “It was my poor judgment in character and reckless teaching of the fist art that bred such a menace... Since you, little brother, possess the resolve to uphold righteousness, I, Wu, am willing to add fuel to the fire and bolster your momentum.”
As it turned out, this man was the master of that Baji expert on the train.
Without wasting words, the peasant stepped into the courtyard and spoke plainly: “The Eagle Claw Sect is on good terms with several schools, including the Yanqing Sect, the Tongbei Sect, the Pigua Sect, and the Quan Sect. While I do not know the grappling of the Eagle Claw, I did learn a couple of throws from Yanqing Fist... This art is also known as Mizong Fist, placing special emphasis on leg work, capable of throws, locks, close-quarters clinging, and striking. The 'Eighteen Tumbles of Yanqing' is among the most exceptional branches of northern wrestling. As the saying goes, 'The Vajra exposes his back with boundless power; the black dragon enters the cave, tumbling its form.' The branch I learned shares origins with Huo Yuanjia, the Great Hero of Tianjin. Little brother, watch closely.”
The old man beside him suddenly said in a low voice, “You're spouting so much—do you think he can grasp it in such a short time?”
“Then what do you want me to do, Master? Just tell me straight, don't keep frightening me.” The peasant shuddered at his words, wearing a thoroughly aggrieved look.
The old man said expressionlessly, “Didn't you work out a few signature throwing techniques? Show one.”
The peasant gave a bitter smile, but quickly regulated his breathing. Standing in the heavy snow, he sank his breath, exhaled, and stomped a single foot. His entire body surged forward several meters with a rush of wind. He hitched his back upward as though shouldering a massive boulder, then vaulted into midair and flipped sideways with sudden speed, resembling a black dragon rolling through the snow. His large hands swept repeatedly through empty air like dragon claws, adopting a posture meant to seize and snap bones.
This was neither fist technique nor leg method; it looked bizarre, yet concealed deadly intent. Using the shoulders and back to lean in and lift the enemy into the air, then generating power from the waist, it seized vital spots just as a crocodile clamps down on its prey, using internal force to twist bones and wrench sinews.
Lian Youming's heart gave a sudden thump. This was a lethal strike.
Before even throwing the opponent to the ground, it would already strip away half their life.
Sure enough, the peasant's body abruptly sank. One foot stabilized his center of gravity like a golden rooster standing on one leg, while his other knee drove upward in a fierce thrust.
Lian Youming's eyelids twitched, and he grinned. Simple, direct, and exceptionally practical.
The old man gave a faint smirk. “Satisfied?”
Knowing full well the two intended to help him, Lian Youming immediately flashed a thick-skinned smile. “What more could I possibly say?”
Standing draped in snow, the old man spoke unhurriedly: “Young Martial Uncle gave his instructions: though you belong to no sect, never fear that no one stands behind you. Go ahead and unleash your hands and feet. Since this battle is to uphold righteousness, how could we let you walk alone? Among us martial men, there will always be companions on the path.”
Curious, Lian Youming smiled and asked, “Will the scale of this battle be big?”
The old man smiled as well. “If you win, your name will shake the jianghu. If you lose...”
Lian Youming squinted with a smile. “I only look at the road ahead; I never think about what comes after.”
Fearless and forging ahead without turning back.
“Good.”
Deeply moved, the old man turned and walked away.
The peasant hurried behind him, hanging his head dejectedly like a child who had done something wrong.
Lian Youming sat watching the wind and snow. Only after master and disciple had walked far away did he murmur, “Looks like Li Da wants to deal with those people in the Eagle Claw Sect too. And not just the Eagle Claw Sect—those other schools aren't behaving themselves either. Jackals from the same lair.”
He turned back toward Xie Ruomei, winking and grinning as he asked, “Is there a procedure for issuing a challenge at their doorstep? Tell me about it. The day after tomorrow, I need to make a dashing, eye-catching entrance—the kind that stuns the entire audience and scares them out of their wits.”
Xie Ruomei had originally looked somber, but upon hearing this, she stared blankly for a moment. Looking at the youth's cynical, playful demeanor, she smiled as well.
After laughing, Lian Youming closed his eyes and sat motionless. He sat from night until dawn, and from day until night, remaining still for a full day and two nights.
The heavy snow fell continuously for three days, cloaking heaven and earth in white and blanketing the entire city in frost.
Until the early morning of the final day—
No, before dawn.
Outside, the sky was pitch-black, and night snow filled the heavens. Lian Youming snapped his eyes open, glanced at the young girl sleeping soundly beside the stove, rose, and pushed open the door.
According to the rules of martial circles, exchanging blows at someone's door required signing a life-and-death waiver, with official witnesses present.
Yet he had not traveled thousands of li just to put on a performance on a challenge stage, preaching etiquette and exchanging pleasantries under the watchful eyes of a crowd.
Li Da had said that affairs of the jianghu were settled within the jianghu; life and death were up to fate, and he would not intervene.
Which meant: kill them first, talk later.
The appointed day had arrived, and he could not wait for dawn.
“Shaking the jianghu with my name? I couldn't care less. What I want is to eradicate future trouble.”
Stepping out the door, Lian Youming turned, preparing to draw the wine gourd from his satchel, but out of the corner of his eye, he spotted someone standing in the snow, looking as though he had been keeping watch all along.
It was the peasant.
Their eyes met, and Lian Youming offered an awkward smile. “What a coincidence. Where's the old man?”
The peasant grinned too, speaking playfully: “My master is one of the arbiters for today's match. Along with him are a senior from Baguamen and an elder from the Yanzi Sect. If you want to break the rules, it won't do. If you came to wipe them out completely, you shouldn't have shown your face earlier. You should have slipped over in the dark of night, under cover of blackness—heh heh, guaranteed no one would know—ouch!”
Halfway through his sentence, the peasant went flying, struck by a slap from the old man who had materialized behind him, landing on the ground with endless groans.
The old man cast a cool glance at Lian Youming and said indifferently, “Going over now works too. As it happens, people from the Taiji School have arrived, and they want to see you.”
Hearing the commotion inside, Xie Ruomei woke from her sleep, stepped out into the snow, and hurried after them with uneven strides.
“What a hassle.”
Lian Youming tucked his hands into his sleeves, walking like an idle loafer strolling down the street, devoid of the slightest urgency on the eve of a great battle.
“Let's go.”
Chapter 76