This was one of the movements in the Ox Demon Horn Thrust, part of the Ox Demon Great Strength Fist. Just as he stepped out, a sheet of dark golden paper suddenly appeared amid the ashes of the Martial Classic that had burned in the brazier. It was covered in tiny scripture characters and illustrations. It seemed to be gold foil, yet the fire had not consumed it. "What? Father's back? Why did he summon me? What does he want to say?" The Marquis Mansion was still the Marquis Mansion; it hadn't changed just because he'd left. All seven or eight hundred people in the estate were bustling about, preparing for the New Year. Only his little room was cold and deserted, with no one coming to visit, as though he'd been cast out of the household. "This is bad. The Martial Classic is a forbidden book, and it bears the seal of the Great Zen Temple. If Father finds out..." Fortunately, he'd stored away the others safely, but there was no time to put this one away. Hong Yi watched the book burn to ashes in the brazier, put the matter out of his mind, and rose to straighten his clothes. He opened the door and followed the old steward to see his father. In the entire Marquis Mansion, the only person who treated him kindly was this old steward. "I wonder if I've reached the Martial Student level yet. Probably not. I've only practiced for half a month. Although Ziyue's Jade Nectar wine nourished my body for four or five days, and he gave me careful instruction, I'm still a little short of the mark." The newcomer was an old man with white hair, dressed in black. Suddenly, steady footsteps sounded outside the courtyard gate. The patrons of these grand establishments included princely young lords in fine clothes astride spirited horses, scholars in blue robes, wealthy merchants, and a crowd of idle officials and scholar-gentry. Hong Yi recognized the old man. He was the chief steward of the entire Marquis Mansion—not one of Lady Zhao's people from the main branch, nor one of the second branch's people from Yunting Studio, nor one of the third madam's. He answered directly to his father, Marquis Wuwen. This movement involved gripping the thighs, gripping the calves, pressing the belly, then stepping forward as if a great ox were thrusting ahead. It was no simple step. It was like sailing across the sea: when the ship was immensely sturdy, the crew's hearts naturally settled, and they could sit steady in the fishing boat, no matter how the waves surged. Now that he was back in the Marquis Mansion, he felt as if he'd returned from another lifetime. In the cramped room, Hong Yi stood with one leg in front and one behind. He bent over, grabbed the muscles of both thighs, and gave them a fierce shake, driving his strength through them. Suddenly, the two great thigh muscles gave a taut, soft snap. "No wonder scholars practice archery, horsemanship, and martial arts. A strong body can steady the mind and bolster a person's confidence." "Who would come to my little courtyard? Could it be that maid Xiao Ning again?" Hong Yi pushed open the paper window and looked out. He was instantly stunned. He didn't dare leave the book in his study. If he went out and someone came in and discovered this forbidden book, it would cause a world of trouble. Hong Yi performed several movements in succession. He felt the large muscles in his limbs, abdomen, chest, and back grow distinctly warm and fill with strength. He then cupped his lips, curled his tongue, pressed it against his teeth, held his breath, and focused his mind on his fist. He punched straight ahead into the empty air. Hong Yi was deeply shaken. Marquis Wuwen was his father, but he had barely seen him a few times. He had more than a dozen brothers and sisters, and he was the least conspicuous, the lowest in status. There was no way Hong Xuanji would summon him. "Hey!" Whenever Hong Xuanji stayed late in the Forbidden City's imperial cabinet to handle state affairs, this man was the one who brought him clothes and food. The heavy snow had just stopped, and Yujing had returned to its bustle and splendor. People thronged the streets, and the grand establishments were even livelier: the wine, banquets, and delicacies of the Gathering Origin Pavilion; the beauties of the Flower Scattering Pavilion; the brushes, ink, paper, and inkstones of Pine and Bamboo Studio; the silks of Songjiang Shop; the antiques and curios of Ancient Intent Pavilion; the jewelry of Gold and Jade Hall, and more. These were the liveliest places in Yujing. Hong Yi had returned from West Mountain, but his thoughts still lingered in that secluded valley. "It's best if those people leave me alone. I can shut the door and practice martial arts and read. Come to think of it, I've been feeling much more comfortable lately. My limbs feel a lot stronger." At least now he had money and wasn't short of those things. When the Pure Fox Clan moved away, they had given him ten red gold coins. Even gold at eighty percent purity could be exchanged at a rate of one to fifteen, let alone pure red gold. If he took the ten red gold coins to Gold and Jade Hall to exchange for silver, he could get at least two hundred taels. That would be enough to support Hong Yi for a long time. No matter how lively and bustling the entire estate and Yujing were, none of it had anything to do with Hong Yi. With one punch, the large muscles throughout his body trembled. It was as if some of their strength had gathered in his fist, giving him an indescribable tingling comfort and sense of power. "I'm no longer a scholar who can't even truss a chicken. If I keep practicing like this, I'll grow stronger and stronger." Feeling the strength in his body, Hong Yi was filled with a satisfying joy, and felt all the more grounded. The Martial Classic was a treasured work of the Great Zen Temple, annotated by a monk named Zen Master Yinyue. Although many sections were incomplete and couldn't be practiced, its principles were explained thoroughly, giving Hong Yi a deeper understanding of the Ox Demon Great Strength Fist. If the ship wasn't sturdy, then even the steadiest heart would have nothing to rely on and would fear the coming storm. Of course, the old steward was courteous to everyone. It was said that in all these years, no one had ever seen him lose his temper. Hong Yi sometimes even wondered whether Hong Xuanji knew he had a son like him. These past ten-odd days—meeting a fox, teaching, sorting books, cultivating his spirit and practicing martial arts, meeting Bai Ziyue, drinking and talking for four or five days—all felt like a vivid dream. Hong Yi wondered whether he'd already trained until all the large muscles of his body had grown firm and full, reaching the Martial Student level set by the army's Martial Hall. Marquis Wuwen, Hong Xuanji, ran his household by strict rites and laws. The rules were severe, and anyone summoned had to arrive at once or face the family discipline. What was more, Hong Yi was a shrewd scholar by nature, especially good at divining an author's meaning from the text. Hong Yi finally understood why scholars considered archery and horsemanship important too. A strong body could steady the mind; when the body was strong, the heart grew calm. In particular, it was already the twelfth lunar month, with the New Year approaching. The emperor would offer sacrifices to Heaven and receive envoys from the various kingdoms. Envoys from the western Huoluo Kingdom, the eastern Yunmeng Kingdom, the northern Yuantu Kingdom, and the southern island nations of Divine Wind and Liuzhu had all taken up residence in Yujing's guest houses. These oddly dressed people often came out to admire the splendor of Yujing, Dagan's greatest city, adding even more bustle to its streets. At the year's end, after sixty years, Great Gan's golden age had reached its peak. Ever since Great Gan crushed Yunmeng's cavalry raid twenty years ago and counterattacked, the two sides had made a pact at Qingsha Pass to never go to war again. The Great Gan Dynasty had been in its golden age ever since, the mightiest empire on the entire continent. "The old steward?" The Marquis Wuwen Mansion was bustling too, not to mention the rest of Yujing. The servants had begun cleaning, scrubbing every corner until it was spotless, hanging lanterns and decorations, and preparing for the New Year. During the New Year, the servants, stewards, maids, and guards would all receive gifts of clothing and silver. None of that ever reached him. Hong Yi suddenly remembered something. Without hesitation, he threw the Martial Classic into the brazier and set it alight. Then he quickly switched hands, grabbed the muscles of his calves, gave them the same shake, and let go. He pressed his belly, thrust forward, and stepped out. Seeing Hong Yi, the old steward stopped, nodded, and smiled. "Young Master Yi, the marquis is back. He's summoned you. He has something to say." With a heart full of joy, Hong Yi sat down at the table, opened a Martial Classic, and continued reading and pondering. As Hong Yi pushed the window open with a creak, the old steward's eyes turned toward him at that very instant, as if the two movements had been perfectly in sync—as though he'd known in advance. Hong Yi knew that once, Hong Gui, the third madam's son, had gotten drunk. Hong Xuanji came back just then to examine his studies, and because the summons hadn't reached him, he was late by a long time. Afterward, he was punished under the family discipline; his legs were broken, and he lay in bed for a full six months.
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