All along the road, white snow lay thick.
Beneath the vast, all-enveloping veil of snow, every household kept their doors and windows bolted tight, huddled around stoves, without a single soul in sight on the streets.
Only after turning a corner did a wide alley reveal an open doorway, with a lantern hung on either side casting faint glows.
Seeing Xie Ruomei shivering violently, her lips drained of color, Lian Youming simply unbuttoned his outer coat and handed it to her.
“Fairness? What fairness? A blood feud's already set—it's either kill or be killed. What's the point of playing fair?”
Hearing the youth's muttered complaint, the old man raised his gray brows and spoke with a stern expression. “These are the rules handed down by martial circles. They exist so the losing side won't come seeking vengeance against the victor later on. As the saying goes, 'Fists settle life and death, a single day ends all grudges.' If you sneak over in the dead of night, others can do the same to you. Back and forth, killing endlessly—when does it ever stop?”
Lian Youming curled his lip. “Like you could ever wipe the slate completely clean anyway. Better not to leave lingering trouble down the road. What this uncle said made far more sense—strike under cover of darkness and be done with it once and for all.”
The peasant-like man's eyelids twitched violently, and he forced a grimace uglier than weeping. “Master, I was only joking with him.”
The four of them reached the front gate.
The moment Lian Youming stepped onto the stone stairs, his eyes darted left and right with fierce intent, searching for anyone from the Eagle Claw Sect. But a heavy palm from the old man shoved him down. “What are you leaping about for? This is the Baji compound. Wild and reckless as you are, you actually take after my junior martial uncle back in the day. The man went to knock on a door for a match and ended up at the wrong place entirely—in the end, my master had to personally apologize and make amends.”
The courtyard lay quiet. Led by the old man, the group bypassed the front yard and came to a martial arts practice ground.
At the edge of the training grounds sat a solitary wooden hut, marooned in the snow.
Through the firelight flickering in the window, a woman with silver hair coiled neatly atop her head sat in silence.
The old man said in a measured voice, “She is from the Taiji School, having traveled all the way back from Hong Kong specifically to find you. She has past ties with the man who passed his kung fu to you. If you get on her good side, she might just pass along another trick or two.”
With that, the old man patted down his Sun Yat-sen suit, brushed off the fallen snow, and led the peasant-like man away into the distance.
Xie Ruomei, however, stood where she was, looking somewhat at a loss.
Lian Youming could see right through the old man's intentions—he wanted the girl to tag along to see if she could pick up a move or two as well.
Hearing the commotion outside, the wrinkles on the elderly woman's face softened, and she offered a gentle smile. “Please come in.”
At her invitation, Lian Youming took Xie Ruomei by the hand and slipped inside the hut.
By the light of the lamp on the table, he could see the elderly woman by the window was dressed in a blue-gray woolen overcoat. Though advanced in years, her face was remarkably clear, devoid of the age spots common to the elderly. From head to toe, she carried an air of elegance and dignified grace, her eyes clear as water and brimming with vitality.
From these details alone, Lian Youming could tell she must have been a great beauty in her youth.
The elderly woman looked at Xie Ruomei, then turned her gaze to Lian Youming. Her voice was as soft as flowing water, and a curious glint flickered in her eyes. “Observing your internal breath, though it sounds rough and heavy at first, you already understand how to constantly gather it inward during transitions, turning stiffness into agility, light and soundless. To think you comprehended the variations of soft force entirely on your own.”
Lian Youming marvelled inwardly. This was truly an expert; she could discern so much purely from his breathing.
“Did you come looking for me to take back the martial arts, or for something else...?”
He was never one to shrink back or mince words.
The elderly woman offered an elegant smile. “Before I came, someone in the sect suggested as much, but I refused. To puzzle out such subtle variations solely from the silk-reeling force proves you possess extraordinary natural talent.”
For some reason, as her words reached his ears, Lian Youming felt an inexplicable sense of warmth and closeness toward the old woman, as natural and irresistible as living things turning toward the sun.
Her tone remained steady and unhurried. “Non-action leaves nothing undone. If that man chose to pass his kung fu to you, then so be it. However, if you achieve great success in your training down the line, I only hope that should the Taiji School ever face grave peril, you will lend a helping hand.”
Lian Youming looked puzzled. “Are you pulling my leg? The Taiji School is so formidable—what kind of danger could it possibly face?”
To his surprise, the elderly woman made an astonishing remark: “In your generation, extraordinary talents are by no means rare. There are even those who seek to chase the pinnacle of the martial path, and in the future, someone may well set out to test their fists against all under heaven. Once that begins, there will be no turning back.”
Lian Youming immediately thought of Xue Hen. Just as he was about to speak, the elderly woman smiled. “Do not dwell on it. I say this merely to put your mind at ease. After our conversation, if anyone from the Taiji School comes looking for you and still demands to take back your kung fu, you may fight without holding back—there is no need for hesitation. As for the future, we shall see when the time comes.”
Lian Youming nodded solemnly. “Understood. I will remember it. Thank you.”
The elderly woman pressed her lips into a smile, remaining silent for a long while before speaking again. “Could you let me see how well you have practiced the silk-reeling force?”
“Sure.”
Without a second thought, Lian Youming took off the hat on his head and set it onto Xie Ruomei's. Turning his back to the woman, he exhaled a soft breath. Beneath his shirt, his spine rose and fell like a coiling dragon, ridges and valleys undulating as pocket after pocket of qi swam continuously like minnows, dispersing and flowing in every direction.
The elderly woman's eyes shimmered. “How is he doing?”
Lian Youming knew she was asking about the Old Man Who Guards the Mountain. Not daring to mention that the elder's cultivation was on the verge of dispersing, he could only say, “He has a grand-disciple named Yang Shuang. I don't know where she moved to.”
The elderly woman drifted into a daze for a long time upon hearing this. Only after a while did she break into a radiant smile. “My name has the character Shuang in it as well. Ah, what a miss! What a miss!”
Lian Youming asked curiously, “Can you not find him?”
The elderly woman gave a gentle smile. “If he does not want us to find him, then we will never find him.”
With that, her tone shifted. “I hear you have a duel scheduled at daybreak. Since you have already grasped the variations of soft force, I shall let you witness the true marvel of it. Watch closely.”
Suddenly, flicking her index finger, she turned and popped the glass chimney right off the oil lamp on the table.
“Hm?”
Lian Youming's eyes narrowed, then widened.
Beside him, Xie Ruomei's eyes went wide as well.
The wooden hut's window stood wide open, framing a boundless curtain of wind and snow outside.
And the lamp sat right by that window.
The moment the chimney came off, the flame flickered and swayed, teetering on the verge of snuffing out.
Yet the elderly woman showed no panic. Her body swayed faintly, rising and sinking without a sound. Raising her hands lightly, she cupped her palms around the flame as if cradling the moon.
In an instant, drifting snow swept in, fierce winds gusted, and freezing frost brushed past, yet the flame never wavered by a hair.
Though her face showed her years, her hands were as tender and delicate as those of a sixteen-year-old maiden, supple as though devoid of bone. Facing each other across empty air, her palms continuously deflected and turned, as if tracing an invisible sphere. Without a sound, not only did she stir no wind of her own, but she also kept all the howling wind, frost, and snow completely shut out.
Lian Youming watched in sheer shock. When he stirred a vortex, he couldn't even trap a single minnow, yet this woman could block the gale outside the window using nothing but her bare hands.
*Taiji Cloud Hands... The momentum carried by the freezing wind was actually neutralized completely.*
Even after the elderly woman replaced the lamp's chimney, Lian Youming remained transfixed by the flame, unable to pull his thoughts away for a long time.
Taking Xie Ruomei by the hand, the elderly woman walked toward the door, pressing a finger to her lips in a hush gesture.
No one knew how much time had passed, but when a rooster's crow drifted from beyond the wall, Lian Youming's pupils finally trembled, and he murmured thoughtfully, “A circle?”
Outside, daylight had broken. The snow had not yet ceased, but the hour had arrived.
Lian Youming looked up to find the peasant-like middle-aged man waiting outside the door. In just that short span of time, his face had become black and blue, looking as though he had taken a thorough beating, and his eyes held a trace of sullen resentment.
“You brad... let'th go!”
Even the sound of his voice was garbled.
Xie Ruomei was outside as well, but the elderly woman was nowhere to be seen—she had likely already departed.
The three of them braved the falling snow and walked out of the courtyard.
Lian Youming asked out of curiosity, “Uncle Wu, where's your master?”
The peasant-like man gave a sidelong glare, clutching his swollen right cheek, and grumbled, “There. Right over there, ain't he?”
At the mouth of the wide alley, the elderly woman held an umbrella as she stepped into a motorcar, which gradually faded into the snowy veil.
The old man stood with his hands clasped behind his back, gazing at the two tire tracks receding into the distance, and said flatly, “Let's move. The time has come!”
The group made their way slowly along the street. Before they had gone far, someone waiting at the corner cupped his hands in greeting. “Senior Brother Wu, Uncle Li, our Tantui Sect may be few in number, but we can still help bolster your momentum! Fuck 'em!”
With that, he fell in behind the old man.
“The Yanzi Sect is here to join the fray as well.”
“Count Cha Fist in too.”
“Liuhe Fist is here as well.”
“Taizu Long Fist greets our little brother.”
“I'm from the Mantis Sect.”
“Uncle, Martial Uncle, I've rounded up everyone from our Baji Sect I could find!”
“We've been sick of that Tan Fei for ages! Since this little brother is stepping up, our Sanhuang Sect won't be left behind!”
As they marched down the road, martial artists from various sects and styles joined the ranks one after another. In the blink of an eye, over two hundred people had gathered.
The old man wore a placid expression, speaking as he walked: “Brat, isn't this far better than charging in all by your lonesome?”
Looking at the dense crowd behind him, Lian Youming was thoroughly amazed.
“If you all couldn't stand Tan Fei, why didn't anyone take him down before?”
The old man let out a sigh. “It's a long story. You'll understand in a moment. With so many people here to back you up, if you truly lose, then that's fate.”
Lian Youming raised a thick eyebrow. “I'm still waiting to break the street.”
Marching through the snow at an unhurried pace, the group arrived before a short street. Both sides of the street were strung with bright red lanterns, terminating at a grand compound. Flanking the entrance stood a pair of stone lions, while the main gate was coated in fresh lacquer and adorned with two bronze knockers, far more imposing than the modest courtyard of the Baji Sect.
Outside the gate, another dense crowd was packed tight.
Right in the center of the short street stood a square table accompanied by three large armchairs.
Seeing Lian Youming and his party arrive, someone called out in a loud, resonant chant: “Fists settle life and death, a single day ends all grudges! Will both parties to the match please step forward and sign the covenant!”
“Fuck off, what kind of bullshit is that?”
Lian Youming pulled the wine gourd from his satchel, tilted his head back, and drained it in a single draught. Narrowing his eyes to focus his spirit, he strode forward with broad steps. “Grudges? Who gives a damn about that? What I'm here to settle with you are the filthy crimes your Eagle Claw Sect has committed! Debts must be paid, and lives taken must be answered with blood! Today, I am the vengeful ghost sent to collect your debts!”
Chapter 77