Reunion

Though Huang Donglai looked like a scholar and was a little short, so that at first glance he did not seem like a martial artist, he did in fact know martial arts—and all of it was the Huang Clan's superior technique, never taught outside the clan. At least among the martial artists of his own generation, Huang Donglai could be counted at the level of a “gatekeeper to the ranks of the experts.” If not for that, his father would never have dared send him out alone to handle clan business. “Heh… I see.” Just as the masked man coughed up blood and collapsed and his companions fell into a panic, a voice came from inside the carriage. “Young friend of the Huang Clan, thank you for your help. But… I'll take it from here.” The words fell, and a gust of force rose. In a flash, a figure shot out from the carriage. With a single sweep of his wide sleeve, two masked men closest to him dropped to the ground. Huang Donglai had a keen eye, but even he could barely make out that the man was using a “finger technique”—one strike to seal the throat, to take a life in an instant. Of course, to see even that much was already impressive. After all, the man who had acted was the youngest sect-master-level master in the martial world today: Shen Youran, young master of Luoyang's Justice Sect. Shen Youran was only just into his thirties, and he was handsome and commanding, his clothes and ornaments lavish. He had a fine face—and even finer skill in his hands. A moment ago, inside the cramped cabin of the carriage, Shen Youran had used only his finger technique to casually pinch every arrow flying at him out of the air. Never mind being wounded—not a thread of his clothing had been cut. That alone offered a glimpse of the heights of his martial skill. Sure enough, within moments Shen had dealt with all the masked underlings surrounding the carriage. Meanwhile, the masked leader who had been fighting Shen's driver saw Shen appear and chose to break off and flee. The driver knew something was off, so he did not rashly give chase. Instead, he hurried over to ask Shen for instructions. “No need to chase him,” Shen said, knowing what the driver was about to ask. “I already know who sent that man. I have my own plans for this; there's no need to say more now.” As he spoke, he gave the driver a meaningful look. The driver understood. Because Huang Donglai was present, master and servant could not speak freely, so he simply assented and turned to lead the horse away. “Heh…” Only then did Shen walk over to Huang Donglai and say with a smile, “Young hero, thank you for just now.” “Think nothing of it. I was only acting in ‘self-defense.’” Though he had transmigrated more than ten years ago, words that did not exist in this universe—or in this era—still often popped out of Huang Donglai's mouth. Of course, Sun Yixie was the same. Shen looked Huang Donglai up and down as Huang cupped his fists in salute. “From your age, young hero, you can't be more than eighteen, and you use Huang Clan methods. If I'm not mistaken… you are Huang Donglai, the young master of the Huang Clan?” “That's right.” Surprised to be named, Huang asked at once, “Might I ask who you are, senior?” “Oh? You don't know me?” Shen was a little surprised as well. “I've only just entered jianghu. I may have heard your name, senior, but I can't put a face to it. I hope you'll enlighten me.” If Huang Donglai wanted to speak in that formal, bookish way, he could. This was one place where he was better than Sun Yixie: he had at least studied seriously for a few years in this world and was not the sort who couldn't read a single character. To make a long story short, Shen Youran revealed his identity and briefly explained why he had come to Hangzhou—it turned out he was also on his way to call at the Sun residence. The two discovered their destinations were the same, and since both were upright men of the martial world, they decided to travel together. To avoid unnecessary trouble when entering the city, they unhitched the horses from the carriage and had the driver lead them. Then they gave the arrow-riddled carriage to the tea stall owner; whether the man later chopped it up for firewood or put it to some other use, they did not care. They were already close to Hangzhou. Shen Youran, Huang Donglai, and the driver were all martial artists; even on foot, the journey would not take long. That evening, they made it inside the city before the gates closed. But to avoid turning up too abruptly, they did not go straight to the Sun residence. Instead, they found an inn and took rooms for the night. Next morning, Shen's driver took a calling card his master had written the night before to the Sun residence, informing them that Sect Master Shen Youran and Young Master Huang Donglai would call on the elder Master Sun that afternoon. After Master Sun received the card, he did not think much of it. Huang Donglai was the son of an old friend, so he treated him like family. He had heard of Shen Youran but did not know him; still, since Shen had come with Huang, he assumed Shen was a friend of the same circles. Master Sun ordered the servants to prepare a welcome banquet at home and called his son, Sun Yixie, to join him in receiving the guests. In the afternoon, Shen Youran sent his driver out, saying he was going to buy a new carriage. He himself went with Huang Donglai to the Sun residence. The moment the two entered the Sun residence gate, Master Sun personally brought his son out from the front hall to welcome them. Unexpectedly, when the two sides were still seven or eight meters apart—wealthy households had large front courtyards—Huang Donglai and Sun Yixie exchanged one look and both cried out. “Ah!” They almost simultaneously opened their mouths wide, stared with wide eyes, and raised a finger at each other. “You—!” They had obviously recognized each other. Although one was now Sun Yixie and the other Huang Donglai, their faces were exactly the same as the younger versions of themselves in their original world; only their hairstyles were different. They had known each other for so many years—there was no reason they would not recognize each other. After seventeen years, suddenly seeing someone they had known before transmigrating, they were naturally astonished. And from each other's reaction, they immediately understood that the other must be in the same situation. Smack— “What are you ‘ah’-ing about?” Two seconds later, Master Sun swatted the back of his son's head. “Is that how you receive guests?” Of course, Master Sun was only putting on a show; he did not really hit hard. Brought back to his senses by that head thwack, Sun Yixie put on a smile. “Heh… Yes, yes. I was just excited, Father.” He stepped forward, cupped his fists, and saluted Shen and Huang. “Sun Yixie pays his respects to Sect Master Shen and Young Master Huang… This way, please.” Shen smiled and returned the salute without revealing anything. Then he stepped forward to exchange a few pleasantries with Master Sun, and only then did he unhurriedly walk side by side with him into the front hall. Huang Donglai and Sun Yixie followed behind, exchanging frantic looks and whispering to each other like two people quarreling. They said a great deal, but for the moment nothing came of it. Once the four were in the front hall and seated, Shen made a little more polite conversation, then came straight to the point with Master Sun. The moment Shen spoke, the other three were dumbstruck—he had come to invite Sun Yixie to the Youth Heroes Assembly. The so-called Youth Heroes Assembly was a grand martial gathering held once every four years in Luoyang at Mid-Autumn. As the name implied, the assembly invited young heroes from all over the martial world to gather, and through civil and martial contests it determined the champion of that year. So long as you were of the orthodox path, at least sixteen and not yet twenty, you might be invited, whether you were newly emerged or someone who had already made some name in jianghu. Of course, young heroes and heroines who had already left some deeds behind in jianghu generally had a better chance; no one would think to invite ordinary disciples with no reputation. But there were exceptions… If you came from a renowned family and were an only son, like Huang Donglai, then even if you had never moved in jianghu at all, you might still be invited. And yet Sun Yixie seemed to fit none of those categories. The Sun family did have some dealings with martial artists, but it had been merchants for several generations. Strictly speaking, Sun Yixie was not a man of jianghu at all—at most, he was a big shot in the Hangzhou fish market. And even if he could barely be counted as the descendant of a renowned family, all he knew were a few sets of wild, flailing punches learned from farmhands; he had no real martial arts at all. If he went, he would be useless. “Sect Master Shen, have you made a mistake?” Master Sun asked, puzzled, after hearing Shen out. “My Sun family has long kept out of the martial world. Besides… this boy of mine is no scholar and no fighter…” “Come now, Master Sun, you're too modest.” Shen smiled and cut him off. “Your son's talents and deeds—never mind Jiangnan, who in the entire martial world has not heard of them?” He paused. “Last year, when I was chatting with Chief Cao of the Qingzhou Salt Gang, he said to me with a sigh… ‘A man should have a son like Sun Yixie.’ In my view, a young man so accomplished at his age is fully qualified to take part in the Youth Heroes Assembly.” “Oh? Is that so?” Master Sun was an easy man to sway. Hearing his son praised like that, he was quite pleased, and his attitude seemed to soften. Seeing this, Shen pressed his advantage. “Absolutely true. My coming in person this time is first to invite your son, and second to explain the matter clearly to you.” He paused. “This year's Youth Heroes Assembly happens to fall to my Luoyang Justice Sect to host. As its sect master, beyond the roster acknowledged by the major schools, I have the right to use my own judgment to invite any young hero I deem qualified… and your son is one of those I believe deserve an exception.” “Hah!” Sun Yixie gave a smug laugh. “Sect Master Shen is truly a dragon among men—what excellent judgment.” Before he had finished, Huang Donglai could not hold back. “Brother Shen, think this through!” Huang hurriedly said to Shen. “I think your understanding of Brother Sun is a little off. Don't listen to one side and let a wolf through the door…” “Shut the hell up!” The old rhythm of Mr. Sun and Mr. Huang trading jabs was carved into his bones, so Sun Yixie almost blurted it out. “Why the hell can't I go? You're jealous, aren't you?” “Jealous my ass!” Huang Donglai turned to Sun Yixie, not backing down in the least. “I'm afraid you'll go and get beaten to death!” “Heh…” Shen was amused by the two young men. “Don't joke, you two. The civil and martial contests at the Youth Heroes Assembly are only for exchange and learning, absolutely not life-and-death duels. The martial contests in particular have always stopped at first contact—how could they take a life?” Here Shen seemed to remember something. He paused, then added, “Oh, that's right, Young Master Huang, you are also among the assembly's invitees. We sent a letter to the Huang Clan a month ago; I suppose you had already left home before that, so you didn't know you had been invited?” “Is that so?” Huang Donglai had been away from home for months, and he indeed had not known. “Hah! That works. I'd been wanting to go see it for myself.” He nudged Sun Yixie, who was sitting beside him. “Brother Sun, since that's the case, you come too. If worst comes to worst, I can protect you.” “Get lost! As if I need your protection.” Sun Yixie curled his lip. “I can protect myself.” Seeing his son and his old friend's son inexplicably become instant friends, as if they were very close, Master Sun was somewhat baffled. He could only take it as a good thing. He thought a little more, then said, “Hmm… letting him go broaden his horizons isn't a bad thing.” “Father, let's leave it at that.” Seeing that his father was still a little hesitant, Sun Yixie said, “Don't you trust me? It's just a trip to Luoyang; it'll be fine.” Sun Yixie wanted to go for three reasons: first, Shen's flattery had made him a little giddy; second, hearing that Huang Donglai was going made him want to join the fun; and third… he had been in this world for more than ten years and had hardly ever left Hangzhou, so he wanted to see something of the wider world. Seeing his son take that stance, Master Sun thought that although the boy could not read and his martial arts were poor, he had a quick head, and with the Huang boy accompanying him he should not suffer any great loss. So he agreed. So the matter was settled. There was still some time before Mid-Autumn, so they were in no hurry to leave. Sect Master Shen was busy with affairs and had to leave the next day. Huang Donglai, however, had nothing to do, so he decided to stay at the Sun residence for a while and then travel to Luoyang with Sun Yixie. He only needed to send a message home by carrier pigeon to let them know. That evening, everyone drank and feasted at the Sun residence. Before the banquet began, Master Sun had already read the letter Huang Donglai had brought. Seeing his old friend's handwriting put him in high spirits, and he drank a few extra cups. In the end, he could not hold his liquor and retired early. Near the end of the xu hour, Shen Youran also took his leave and returned to the inn. Thus only Sun Yixie and Huang Donglai were left at the table. Now at last they could say a few things that only transmigrators could say to one another. “Damn, I thought I'd never see anyone from our old world in this life. If I'd known you'd transmigrated too, the two of us could have met up sooner.” Huang Donglai had also had several cups by now, though the liquor of this era, owing to its distillation methods, was not very potent. “Ah, it's all good,” Sun Yixie said. “Now that we've run into each other, we can pal around together again. If nothing else… at that Youth Heroes Assembly, with our brothers' strength, we'll make a name for ourselves right away.” “Pff—” Huang Donglai sprayed the wine from his mouth. “Brother Sun, you're dreaming, aren't you?” He gave Sun Yixie a look of contempt. “I fucking noticed the moment I sat down today—you don't know martial arts at all, do you?” “Bull!” Sun Yixie said stubbornly. “I've studied, all right?” “Bull!” Huang Donglai answered bull with bull. “I'm the one who actually studied, which is why I could tell at a glance that you don't have a shred of internal force.” “What the hell?” Sun Yixie's voice rose even higher. “This world has internal force?” “No shit! Are you just finding out?” Huang Donglai said. Sun Yixie's little eyes darted. Instead of answering, he asked, “So you have internal force, then?” “Of course I do,” Huang Donglai replied matter-of-factly. “Hey, I finally made it to a world with real martial arts, and I had the conditions to learn. Why wouldn't I train hard?” “Good!” Sun Yixie slapped the table. “Since that's the case, your brother is in trouble now. Shouldn't you pass me ten or eight years of power? Share the blessings!” “Get lost! Transfer my ass!” Huang Donglai said. “I started training at five. After a whole year, I had only just learned how to send my breath through all the meridians in my body—that was when I first began to generate internal force. I've trained until now for a total of only ten years of power, and you want me to transfer ten or eight of them to you? Are you even human?” “Then not ten—we split it as brothers, five years. That works, right?” Sun Yixie began to bargain. “Go to hell!” Huang Donglai took another drink. “Never mind that I don't even know how to do this ‘internal-force transfer’ in the first place—even if I did, a guy like you who doesn't even understand the basic breathing method has all his meridians blocked. You couldn't receive a transfer at all. If someone pumped a huge amount of internal force into you, you'd fucking explode and die, all right?” “Damn!” Hearing there was no hope, Sun Yixie cursed in annoyance and took a sullen gulp of wine. “So there's no shortcut at all?” “No shit. You've watched too many TV dramas, haven't you?” Huang Donglai said. “There's no shortcut in martial arts. Unless you're a genius, naturally gifted—then fine, you're amazing—you have to start from the basics. Without a foundation, it doesn't matter if you meet some old grandpa who wants to give you his power; it won't do a thing.” “Then what about Xuzhu? He didn't have much aptitude either—he just got hundreds of years of power from someone and became a badass,” Sun Yixie said, unconvinced. “Before Xuzhu received the transfer, he had at least trained for two years in Arhat Fist and Weitu Palm; he knew how internal force and meridians worked, okay?” Huang Donglai said. “And are you sure his aptitude was low? It didn't take that guy more than a few days to learn the Tianshan Plum-Breaking Hand.” “True,” Sun Yixie nodded. “Hey, then how about you teach me some martial arts? With my aptitude, a few more years of training and I'll catch up to you.” “Heh…” Huang Donglai sneered. “I could, but what's in it for me?” “What the hell? Teaching your brother a thing or two, and you actually ask what's in it for you?” Sun Yixie shook his head. “You really are…” “All right, all right, forget it.” Huang Donglai knew that if this went on, Sun Yixie would strap him to a moral roasting rack. He hurried on, “I'll write you a basic energy-circulation method in a bit. Start practicing it every day.” Strictly speaking, he was not supposed to do this, since Huang Clan martial arts were never taught outside the clan. But the two shared a friendship across two lifetimes, so there was no need for so much ceremony. “Great! It's settled!” Sun Yixie agreed loudly at once. But after saying it, he thought for a moment and quickly added, “Oh, right—you'd better write it in Simplified Chinese characters.” “Huh? Why?” Huang Donglai asked, puzzled. “To prevent theft,” Sun Yixie said, raising his voice. “If what you write gets lost, no one else will be able to read Simplified characters.” “Hmm, that makes sense.” Huang Donglai nodded, then immediately realized something. “Wait—no. Since when did you become so meticulous, Brother Sun? That's not like you.” “Hmph…” Sun Yixie snorted coldly. “What's so strange about that? You just don't know me well enough.” Huang Donglai was not buying it. “I say, Brother Sun, don't tell me you can't read the characters here, and that's why you want me to write in Simplified.” “Bull!” This “bull” from Sun Yixie sounded a little weak, and it was only one word, with nothing after it. “I fucking can't take this.” One look at Sun Yixie's reaction told Huang Donglai he had guessed right. “That Shen fellow must be blind, inviting an illiterate like you to the Youth Heroes Assembly—and coming all this way himself, no less.” At this, Sun Yixie suddenly turned serious. “Oh, right… Se”—Huang's old nickname, which Mr. Sun often used—“speaking of Sect Master Shen…” He glanced left and right as if afraid someone outside might be eavesdropping, lowered his voice, and said, “Now that I think about it after the fact… I'm afraid he's up to something.”