Young Wang Anfeng's First Fight

The Green Dappled Horse let out a long neigh. Its hooves moved as though it were treading on clouds and mist, and in the blink of an eye it vanished into the distance. Clearly, it was no ordinary horse. The instant the youth departed, the merchants who had been sitting peacefully sprang up as if their chairs had been fitted with springs, pouncing on the gleaming silver scattered across the ground. They shoved and jostled one another, their curses unceasing.

In the blink of an eye, the iced tea stall had become like an arena. Curses laced with dialects and local slang rang out in a harsh, chaotic din, punctuated now and then by cries of pain. Disgust rose in Wang Anfeng's heart. He packed up his bundle and the crumbs of his remaining dry rations, carefully set the teapot on a bluestone slab, and then set off. Having rested for quite a while, the soreness in his body had eased considerably. He circulated his Internal force and used the Vigorous Step Technique to stride away, never once sparing the silver a glance, much less relying on his martial arts to seize it.

He traveled who knew how much farther before he finally spotted a small Daoist temple when the moon had climbed above the willow branches. After explaining his purpose, he rested there for the night. He rose early the next morning. He had calculated that half an hour would pass outside if he went to Shaolin; suddenly vanishing would likely frighten others. Thus, he merely practiced two sets of Fist techniques in the courtyard and swept the grounds for the old Master of the Martial Arts School before taking his leave.

Enduring his aching body, he hurried onward for another full day. Only when dusk had fallen did he finally see the county town in the distance. He breathed a sigh of relief, used the Shadow-Gazing Pass to verify his identity, and entered the town. The sight before him seemed faintly bright. It was already dark; in a village, there would likely have been few people left in the streets, yet this county town remained ablaze with lights. Lanterns hung high, pedestrians came and went, and it possessed all the splendor of a prosperous age.

After traveling in exhaustion, Wang Anfeng suddenly found himself in such a bustling place, and his pace involuntarily slowed. His eyes widened as he watched the passing pedestrians and the hawkers crying their wares. Then he stopped at a small stall. The tempting scent of meat buns made his stomach churn. Seeing his appearance, the young vendor smiled. "Little brother, are you hungry? Our pork buns are made with prime pork belly, fresh cabbage, and mushrooms minced fine. Thin skins, generous filling—only six Datong coins for one."

As he spoke, he lifted the steamer lid. Inside, rows upon rows of pale white meat buns sat steaming, their fragrance rushing up to meet him. Wang Anfeng swallowed unconsciously, took twelve copper coins from his robes, then thought for a moment and put six back. He gave only half to the vendor and smiled. "Please, shopkeeper, one will do."

"Coming right up."

The young man took the money, deftly picked out a bun, and handed it to Wang Anfeng. The youth took a huge bite, and fragrant juices filled his mouth. It truly was delicious. As the vendor replaced the steamer lid and draped a white cloth over his shoulder, he smiled. "Your accent sounds unfamiliar, little brother. Is this your first time in our town?"

Wang Anfeng nodded slightly in reply while stuffing the bun into his mouth. After swallowing several bites, he let out a breath, wiped his hands, and then cupped his fist in his palm. "Excuse me, I have something to ask. Please do not take offense."

Seeing that he was handsome and exceedingly polite, the young man smiled and waved a hand. "Ask away, ask away. I'm no high-and-mighty scholar, so you're being far too courteous." Wang Anfeng smiled, then asked, "I heard there is a doctor surnamed Li in this town. Does the shopkeeper know of him?"

"Doctor Li?"

The young man froze, looking Wang Anfeng up and down. Only after seeing that he did not look like a villain did he shake his head and sigh. "Him? Of course I know him. He's highly skilled at unblocking the channels and invigorating the blood, and he's always kind to others. But these days, his life hasn't been peaceful... He offended those bastards in the east of town. Even a fortune of a thousand strings of cash couldn't withstand their torment..."

Wang Anfeng was slightly stunned. He asked where Doctor Li lived and what had happened to him. After offering his thanks, he turned and strode away. There were many pedestrians about, and anxiety stirred in his heart. Without realizing it, he used the Shaolin Vigorous Step Technique. The young vendor watched as the blue-clad youth took several leaps and sped away like a galloping horse, drawing waves of startled cries from the street.

Doctor Li's clinic was not far away. With Wang Anfeng's current footwork, he reached that street in only a few minutes. From afar, he saw a crowd gathered around one place to watch the excitement. He hurried over, only to find people packed shoulder to shoulder, without the slightest gap through which he could squeeze. From within came several noisy, angry curses. Then came a sharp clang of weapons, followed by a child's crying and a woman's sobs.

Anxiety rose in Wang Anfeng's heart, but he immediately calmed himself. His eyes swept the surroundings. He retreated more than ten paces, steadied his breathing, and a sharp gleam flashed in his eyes. Drawing in a breath, he stepped forward and drove the Vigorous Step Technique to charge ahead. As he neared the crowd, he gritted his teeth hard, raised his Internal force, and sprang up like a tiger, nearly two meters into the air. One foot landed on a man's shoulder, making the man's body buckle weakly.

From his elevated position, he saw a middle-aged couple and a child surrounded by five burly men. Their leader was rubbing his fists and cursing as he approached the man who stood with his neck stiffly raised. Before fear could even arise in the youth's heart, his body had already stepped again and again across the shoulders of the crowd. Like a fierce tiger descending the mountain, he leaped straight into the encirclement. The instant he landed, borrowing the momentum of his charge, his right fist spun out violently from his ribs while his left palm fell like a mountain rock. With surging Internal force, he smashed directly into the wrists of the leading brute's crossed hands.

"Aah!"

The burly man screamed, his guard opening wide at once. It was Wang Anfeng's first time fighting someone. His initial strike had been fueled entirely by a surge of righteous anger, but now his mind was blank. Looking at the opponent before him, he drove a Middle Straight Fist straight into the man's abdomen, sending him flying sideways. At that moment, the four hooligans around them finally reacted. They were first startled senseless, but when they saw that he was only a half-grown youth, they roared and charged him together.

Wang Anfeng's heart thundered like a drum, and his mind was blank. Yet nearly seven shichen—fourteen hours—of daily Fist techniques training over this period had forged instinctive reactions into his body. Facing the punch coming straight at him, he stepped back with his right foot and raised both arms in a firm block, steadily catching the fist. His master's words when teaching martial arts flowed through his mind. Naturally, he twisted his waist and turned, bent his right elbow, and, like a spearpoint wheeling around, unleashed Reverse Elbow Break directly into the hooligan's ribs. Internal force poured into the blow. With a crack, the tall, fat hooligan screamed and flew sideways like a piece of trash.

He raised his left hand and intercepted another punch, shifted his footwork, then turned his right fist into a palm blade and thrust it fiercely upward. Power traveled from his spine to his fingertips, striking directly against another man's throat bone. He lifted upward with the motion. With a crack, the hooligan's jaw dislocated. Howling, he rolled onto the ground and began to writhe. The cruel grins on the remaining two men's faces froze, and their steps halted instinctively. But Wang Anfeng, whose mind was now nearly incapable of thought, had no intention of stopping there.

His feet instinctively used the footwork of the Vigorous Step Technique, and he pounced like a fierce tiger descending the mountain. His stance shifted into a left bow stance. His right fist became a palm, circling inward half a turn to catch his opponent's punch. His left palm clenched into a fist and struck sideways at the temple. The man's furious roar cut off abruptly, and he collapsed limply to the ground as if dead.

"Old Liu?! Old Zhang? Y-you, don't come any closer!"

"Come any closer and I'll report you to the authorities! Help! Somebody help! Aah!"

The stunned look on the last bearded brute's face turned to terror. Like a frightened little girl, he shrieked at the top of his lungs, flailing both arms wildly. Yet a fist slipped through the crook of his arms. Wang Anfeng bent his right arm, clasped his own right hand with his left, and surged forward using the Vigorous Step Technique. His right elbow rose with the motion and smashed brutally into the hooligan's chin. The man's vision went black, and he crumpled unconscious. Only then did the youth's mind slowly regain clarity. He panted heavily, straightened up, and looked around. Seeing burly men sprawled all over the ground, screaming in pain, he finally realized that his Internal force and Fist techniques had long since made him far stronger than ordinary strongmen.