Crisis

At the words "little bastard," Hong Gui trembled with rage, but he didn't dare chase after Hong Yi and attack him. Especially unnerving was the way Hong Yi watched him, as if he were aiming a bow and arrow straight at him. The place was not far from the Hong Family school, and today was the first day of classes. Many people had come to study. Those admitted to the Hong Family school were naturally all sons of the rich and powerful, fine clothes and fine horses around them. Some were spoiled young masters, but others had sharp eyes. After the rush of finally holding his head high, Hong Yi realized that exposing his martial arts like this might have unpredictable consequences. "Are you going to use your status as masters to bully me?" Seeing five or six people closing in, Hong Yi raised his voice sternly. "One complaint from me to the Yujing prefectural office, and you'll be exiled three thousand li. Believe me or not?" Yet Hong Yi paid no heed to all those watching. He remained calm and focused, reading and pondering the text, entirely unruffled. "Stop right there!" The sudden change in Hong Gui's attack sent a chill through Hong Yi's lower body. Fortunately, he cultivated both the immortal and martial arts, and his thoughts were quick; his body moved with them. He swiftly blocked the kick with one hand, twisted his wrist to seize the foot, lifted it, then heaved hard. A flush of red flashed across Hong Gui's face. After his initial shock, he recovered, his expression growing even more savage. He pointed his riding crop at Rong Pan, who was ten paces away, being helped up by servants and unable to move. Looking at Hong Gui, Hong Yi spoke without haste. "What's going on here? Why don't you tell me?" With a thud, as if flipping a stone, Hong Yi sent Hong Gui toppling head over heels. He landed hard on his backside, dust covering him from head to toe, his fine young-master image utterly ruined. "Bullshit! You bastard son of a whore, you dare run your mouth in front of me?" The whip cracked loudly. Had it struck, it would at the very least have left a bloody welt. "Hong Gui, what are you doing?" "His horse must have been spooked. He was galloping recklessly down the street, so it's only natural that it got frightened. Hong Gui, make sure your cousin is more careful from now on. It's one thing if he gets hurt, but if he injures someone, word will get around that a relative of Marquis Wuwen's Mansion rode down a passerby. That would bring shame on the family." Hong Gui scrambled up, mounted his horse, and rode back to the mansion. It was lunchtime. Suddenly, four or five expressionless people entered the schoolroom, walked up to Hong Yi, and said, "Young Master Yi, the First Madam asks you to return to the mansion." Hong Yi paid no attention to their looks. Standing there, he gazed at the horse lying a dozen paces away and Rong Pan, who had fallen and was bleeding from the head. A feeling of triumph such as he had never known welled up inside him. "That's right, that's right. He's done for this time. This won't be as simple as a broken leg." Just then, the sharp snap of a whip sounded behind him. Someone had swung it at his head. "Hmph!" Hong Yi snorted, flicked his sleeve with a swish, and tossed out two words: "Petty villain!" Then he strode into the schoolroom. He had gauged Marquis Wuwen Hong Xuanji's character well enough. A man who had held power for years and was himself a peerless expert would brook no defiance. Once he spoke, his word was ironclad. The horse had also been led away. Along the long street, people and horses lay sprawled everywhere, and chaos reigned. In the past, the force of a charging horse would have sent him scrambling in panic to dodge. Hearing the roar behind him, Hong Yi was already on guard. He slipped aside, turned around, and saw Hong Gui, his face twisted with rage. He had dismounted and raised his whip, ready to lash out again. Clop! Clop! This servant had clearly trained in martial arts and had a sharp eye. He had actually recognized the move Hong Yi used to flip Hong Gui as the Small Heavenly Dipper Grappling Hand. Hong Gui staggered back two steps, startled by Hong Yi's sudden shout. As far as he knew, Hong Yi had always been quiet and withdrawn, the sort to avoid trouble and keep his distance. How had he suddenly found such courage? By the time had come noon. Hong Yi didn't look back, pretending he hadn't been called, and continued walking as if deaf. Seeing Hong Yi reach for the whip, Hong Gui gave a sly grin. He pulled the whip back, feinting to distract him, then suddenly kicked out, aiming straight for the groin, fast and vicious. The kick came from Hong Gui, who had trained in fist and staff techniques. His upper body feinted while his leg struck for real, viciously. Hong Gui was, after all, the son of the Marquis's secondary wife and held a high position. He had three or four pageboys and several servants with him, who had now caught up. The moment they saw their master take a beating, they rushed over. A few quick-witted ones helped him up, while those eager to prove their loyalty rolled up their sleeves. Brushing the dust off himself, Hong Yi acted as if nothing had happened. His face cold, his steps steady, he continued toward the schoolroom. This move wasn't part of the Ox Demon Great Strength Fist. It was the Small Heavenly Dipper Grappling Hand, a technique unique to Hong Xuejiao. Just as Hong Gui was seething with rage, a strong, guard-like servant spoke up. Hong Yi had spent many days practicing archery and training his eyes, focusing his spirit on them as he watched birds among the trees and stars in the sky. After that, when he stood and drew his bow, his eyes had taken on a faint, sharp intensity, like an arrow aimed at its target. "Young Master, don't be angry. We'll deal with him when the time comes. I saw clearly just now—he used the Second Miss's unique Small Heavenly Dipper Grappling Hand. The Second Miss must have secretly taught him martial arts, or he wouldn't dare treat you like this. I heard the Marquis forbade him from practicing martial arts, and now he's doing it in secret. You should report it to the Second Madam and have her tell the First Madam. He'll have a hard time then!" "Hmph!" His mother was a thorn in Hong Yi's heart. That insult sent flames roaring through him, but he kept his face impassive. When the whip came down, he suddenly reached out and caught it. Hong Yi looked up and immediately recognized them as guards from the main residence of Marquis Wuwen's Mansion. Every one of them was a soldier who had once served under Hong Xuanji before retiring to follow him. They were far more skilled than those household thugs. "That was careless. I should have just dodged. Why did I strike the horse? Now I've exposed that I know martial arts. If word reaches my father, it'll be hard to get past him. But if I knew they meant to humiliate me and didn't fight back, I'd only look afraid. There'll be more and more incidents like this in the future, and they'll only get harder to manage." When Hong Yi reached the schoolroom, many who had witnessed the scene watched him from time to time as they studied, secretly alarmed. No one had expected that a concubine-born son, the lowest-ranking member of the Marquis's Mansion, would have such a proud and unyielding backbone—daring to scold and rebuke them. Hong Gui had never imagined he would suffer at Hong Yi's hands. Before he could even get up, he shouted, "What are you standing around for? Get him!" The servants, who had been closing in menacingly, froze as if under a binding spell. They looked at one another, unsure whether to retreat or advance. But after reflecting on the principle that a true man should live with boldness, Hong Yi's heart settled somewhat. Hong Yi was neither afraid nor did he dodge again. He shouted, pointing at Hong Gui and staring straight into his eyes, focusing his spirit in his gaze and imagining himself drawing a bow and aiming an arrow. Hong Gui flew into a rage and whipped at his head again. No matter how Hong Yi put it, he couldn't match him in words. And with his noble status, Hong Gui was hardly willing to argue with Hong Yi. After their shock, many people gathered around, murmuring among themselves. Most had no idea what had happened, but a few sharp-eyed ones looked at Hong Yi with suspicion and surprise. With Hong Yi's strength, he still couldn't kill a horse with his fists. Even if the horse stood still and let him strike, he couldn't kill it with a single blow. What he had done just now—dodging a charging horse in an instant and striking it hard enough to make it recoil—was already the best result of three months of hard training.