Fangs (Part 2)

"Who are you?" Gripping his katana tightly and taking a high guard stance, the old man spoke in a low voice to the boy approaching slowly with a machete in hand.

"Who I am isn't important." The boy smiled. "What matters is that you saw what I did. By the rules of our line of work, that means I have to silence you permanently."

As he spoke, the boy waved the machete in his hand. "Heh heh, come to think of it, I've spent too much time playing with a bunch of kids lately. I'm getting a little brain-dead myself. I could've taken you out in secret, but I ended up facing you head-on. Really... well, mainly I wanted to tell you something. That hit just now hurt like hell."

"Thank you for the compliment."

"You're welcome."

As soon as the words fell, the old man sprang into the air, his katana cleaving straight down. Faced with that thunderous blow, Jiaming spun the machete in his hand, then swung upward with his right hand alone. With a sharp clang, the two blades threw off a dazzling shower of sparks in midair. Yet to the old man's shock, his powerful strike had been completely deflected aside. The reverse-gripped steel blade followed the momentum of his attack and shoved it to one side, even forcing his body to tilt that way!

Most people believed Japanese swordsmanship focused on killing with a single strike: one slash, attack without defense, relying entirely on brute force, with a missed blow meaning the end. In truth, that was merely a misconception created by movies. All martial arts shared common ground, and Japanese swordsmanship also placed great importance on the use of the waist and footwork. The old man's first blow failed, and his katana immediately swept sideways. To prevent his opponent from pressing the advantage, he let his body fall toward the ground, braced himself with one hand, and spun both legs out in a kicking sweep. But when he regained his footing, he found that the boy was standing where he himself had just been, bouncing lightly on both feet like a boxer, smiling brilliantly.

"So flashy, so flashy! You can actually pull off moves that difficult. Grandpa, doesn't your back hurt?"

"Cut the crap! If you want to fight, come at me!"

The old man frowned and pointed his katana solemnly at Jiaming, its tip slightly lowered and tilted a little to the right. Then Jiaming narrowed his eyes. "Flat-Eyed Gaze... what, do you think you're Okita Soji?" With that, he charged forward.

"I'll show you the Chiying Qianhuan you wanted!"

Sparks burst forth again. The old man pressed his katana downward to catch Jiaming's attack, then swung it upward and slashed down with lightning speed. This Flat-Eyed Gaze was an exceptionally difficult technique. When mastered to perfection, it could make one feel as though the enemy had been drawn beneath the blade to be cut down. Yet before the slash could land, Jiaming seemed to vanish. Then he appeared at the old man's side and swung his blade.

It was the same Chiying Qianhuan, but Jiaming's execution was clearly countless times more proficient than Yuechi Xun's. In his haste, the old man withdrew his katana and rolled awkwardly aside. But Jiaming's figure rushed to his flank again at astonishing speed, his blade chopping down.

For a moment, a rapid series of clang clang clang clang rang out from one corner of the square, like crisp music dancing through the night sky. In pure strength, even with Jiaming's training, a child's body could never match that old man's. But in agility, the old man could not catch up to Jiaming even on horseback.

Almost showing off, he used Chiying Qianhuan as his body danced madly through the patchwork of light and darkness. In fact, ninjutsu was not illusion magic. It merely used environmental factors to create false impressions. Here, the lights were blocked by buildings, forming a clear division between brightness and shadow. With the constant alternation of light and dark, combined with intricate footwork, it created movement like an illusion. Of course, even without that interplay of shadow and light, such an illusion could be created in a well-lit area through sufficiently complex movement. It was simply easier here.

Sometimes he appeared at the old man's side, sometimes behind him. The endless variety of attacks left the old man struggling desperately. Yuechi Xun, still naked and lying on the ground, watched with even greater alarm. Chiying Qianhuan at this level... who in the family could accomplish it?

After exhausting every trick he had, the old man finally opened up some distance between them. Gripping the hilt with both hands, he drew back, then unleashed a lightning-fast thrust at Jiaming as he charged in.

It was still one of Okita Soji's ultimate sword techniques: Mumeiken Sandan Tsuki. He had judged that Jiaming desperately wanted to close the distance and was moving too quickly to use Chiying Qianhuan to evade. Sure enough, he hit him.

But it was not that Jiaming could not dodge. He simply no longer wanted to.

Jiaming violently knocked aside the first thrust. The second and third were about to follow like a raging storm, but as the old man slightly drew his blade back, he realized in horror that his opponent was faster than he was at retracting his sword. Nearly all of Jiaming's strength bore down upon his blade, rendering the next attacks completely useless.

Their figures crossed, and blood flashed!

A long gash opened across the old man's lower abdomen, as though that spot had been chosen specifically to echo the Japanese ritual of seppuku. He staggered several steps. "Chiying Qianhuan... how could you..."

Of course I stole the manual, idiot... Jiaming thought, but he said aloud, "The Yuechi Family's old residence is serene and quiet, planted with beautiful cherry trees. When the cherry blossoms fall, their petals drift into the pond. The ripples they stir inspired the Yuechi Family's ancestors to create Chiying Qianhuan. That old residence still retains its original appearance—simple, tranquil, spotless. The secret of Chiying Qianhuan lies within it. What it requires is a heart completely calm and at ease, reflecting even the slightest ripple stirred by the outside world. Your heart contains nothing but conflict. You cannot even master the swordsmanship of Tennen Rishin-ryū. How could you possibly master Chiying Qianhuan?"

After saying that, he felt like an eminent monk. The first half had been nonsense, but the latter half truly described the state of mind Chiying Qianhuan required.

The old man really did seem to have attained enlightenment. Blood kept pouring from his abdomen, but he stood there without moving. Then a figure rushed in from the side and cut an even more fatal wound across his neck. It was Yuechi Xun, still completely naked.

"Cough... I... I was... right... Yuechi Family... cough cough..."

After speaking those words, the old man propped himself up with his katana and collapsed to his knees. At last, he died.

This training session had gone pretty well... Jiaming thought. When he looked toward Yuechi Xun, she was staring straight back at him, utterly unconcerned by her naked body. Of course, looking at her body covered in wounds, Jiaming truly could not summon any improper thoughts.

Then Jiaming placed the edge of his blade directly against her neck.

"Cough, you're putting me in a difficult position. I can't let anyone know what happened today, so I can only kill people... Hey, hey hey... at least let me finish before you pass out..."

Supporting the girl as she finally fainted and collapsed into his arms, Jiaming genuinely felt that she was being unreasonable. He had not truly intended to kill her, but she could at least have listened to his reasons and discussed a way to keep things secret before passing out...

"Seriously... you're hurt this badly. Whether there's any medicine upstairs depends on your luck..."

More than an hour later, a large number of police officers arrived at the lumber-processing factory, where they found a particularly horrifying scene.

Two decapitated corpses lay in the gatehouse by the entrance. A fire had already consumed nearly half the factory. In the square, headless bodies lay everywhere in a horrifying sight. At a single glance, the officers knew this would be the largest underworld criminal case since the gang shootout at the abandoned Second Cement Factory half a year ago.

Leading the police there, Liu Huaisha, her whole body filthy, froze in shock at the sight before her. Crying and shouting, she searched everywhere for Jiaming. She did not find him, but she did find the Japanese girl on a bed on the second floor, abused until she was barely clinging to life. Her injuries seemed to have received simple treatment, but she was still unconscious.

According to Shasha's information, the underworld members at the lumber-processing factory could not possibly have consisted of only these people. A group entered the woods behind the factory with police dogs. Before long, they came across Cao Dongfeng, who was lost and running around inside while holding a small torch. Shasha immediately burst into tears and threw herself at him, beating him furiously as she cried, "What did you do to Jiaming? What did you do to Jiaming..." But Cao Dongfeng had nearly been scared out of his wits. He merely said in terror, "Dead people... dead people... help..." Shasha thought Jiaming was already dead. When the police were not watching, she ran over and beat Cao Dongfeng again before dropping to her knees and wailing loudly.

Before long, the police discovered a clue ahead. Shasha went over crying. Nearly everyone turned pale at the sight of the headless corpses, and quite a few officers vomited on the spot. Shasha searched aimlessly for Jiaming. Finally, a police dog found the trembling little boy hiding in a concealed patch of low bushes. Seeing that Jiaming was alive, Shasha joyfully pounced on him. The next instant, Jiaming began crying in pain.

"Ah... Doctor, get over here! Jiaming is hurt too! That Cao Dongfeng beat him for so long..." Shasha shouted, then began crying anxiously again. The doctor accompanying the group hurried over and removed Jiaming's clothes, revealing a body covered in shocking wounds, almost comparable to those of the abused Japanese girl. Everyone hurriedly brought over a stretcher. Shasha jogged excitedly alongside it while a policewoman questioned Jiaming about what had happened. Naturally, Jiaming said that he had rushed into the woods and hidden, then heard screams but had been too frightened to go out, and so on. He could provide no useful information. Seeing that he was so young and had suffered such a beating, no one believed he was lying.

"By the way, Shasha, they said they were going to capture Lingjing. They didn't get her?"

"Mm, don't worry." Shasha held his hand. "As soon as we disappeared, they reported it to the police. Lingjing was almost captured once, but Father Ye happened to be picking her up and beat all those guys away. Later, the police protected her... Father Ye is amazing. Of course, Jiaming, you're amazing too."

"Uh, heh heh... heh heh..." Jiaming responded with a foolish grin.

The medical team had seen two children horrifically abused in one day, and they complained the entire way back. When everyone returned to the factory and saw Cao Dongfeng, Shasha angrily accused him, "It was him! He did it!" She tried to rush over and hit him again, but someone immediately held her back. Amid the chaos, however, Cao Dongfeng saw Jiaming make a terrifying face at him from the stretcher. He instantly foamed at the mouth, convulsed all over, and collapsed to the ground in an epileptic fit. From then on, he would surely understand the meaning of despair completely.

Everyone boarded the ambulance. Shasha stayed beside Jiaming's stretcher, holding his hand. Seeing this thick-skinned boy actually fall asleep in the vehicle and begin snoring softly, she felt a little frustrated. She still had so much to say to him. As she thought that, she awkwardly pulled the blanket over him.

The vehicle cut through the long night, heading toward the glittering city in the distance.

Note 1: Anyone who has watched Rurouni Kenshin should understand Okita Soji. He was Okita Soujiro, supposedly the strongest swordsman of Japan's Shinsengumi. He studied Tennen Rishin-ryū swordsmanship, whose ultimate techniques were Flat-Eyed Gaze and Mumeiken Sandan Tsuki. However, Mumeiken Sandan Tsuki used Flat-Eyed Gaze as its opening stance, so this was basically made up. I'm not very familiar with him.

I'm more familiar with that little Okita Soujiro from The Tale of the Wind. The fujoshi reading this book would probably like that little guy.

Note 2: Tennen Rishin-ryū was a Japanese school of swordsmanship. This is not meant as academic research; it emphasized harmonizing with natural principles, adapting to circumstances, and responding naturally to an enemy's movements, somewhat like the Chiying Qianhuan described in this story.

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