Eight Trigrams Evasion

A heavy snowstorm struck in the latter half of the night. When people opened their eyes, they found the world outside blanketed in white.

New York lay in the cool temperate zone, with mild, brief summers and long, frigid winters.

Although the rain earlier that night had released a great deal of moisture, as the first snowfall of winter, the flakes still drifted down as large as goose feathers.

The snow had piled past half a calf. Every step produced an immediate crisp crunch beneath their feet.

Snow weighed down the branches, and whenever birds landed or took flight, large clumps of snow would rustle down.

As he entered the wine cellar, the air shifted from damp cold to warmth.

When he opened the iron door, the secret room was brightly lit, and Bullseye sat cross-legged on an iron bed.

At the sight of Hong Fei entering, his eyelids twitched before he lowered his head without a word.

Hong Fei's footsteps echoed through the empty room, drawing closer and closer, while Bullseye's fists involuntarily clenched.

"How many times have we fought?"

Hearing the question, Bullseye answered without hesitation, "Two hundred and nine times."

Hong Fei nodded slightly. "Perfect. Get up. I'll still hold back. We'll fight one last time and make it an even number, then I'll send you on your way."

Bullseye abruptly raised his head.

Hong Fei smiled and nodded.

Bullseye immediately rose and shook out his arms. Over the past month, with the aid of Hong Fei's specially made medicinal ointment, his arms had mostly recovered.

Hong Fei turned and walked to the door. He pulled open the iron door and stepped aside.

Bullseye narrowed his eyes. "What does that mean?"

"We'll fight outside. It snowed today, so I'll let you enjoy the view."

Bullseye naturally did not believe him. "You aren't afraid I'll run?"

Hong Fei shook his head. "You can't run."

Bullseye gritted his teeth and stepped through the iron door with a grim expression.

The two left the wine cellar one after the other. Once they reached the open lawn buried beneath the snow, Bullseye turned and stopped.

When Hong Fei turned around, he saw Bullseye standing five meters away, beckoning at him.

Bullseye's gaze hardened. His feet twisted against the ground, and power suddenly burst forth. He shot forward like an arrow, his fist like a sharpened bolt, while snow behind him surged more than a meter into the air.

The recovery of his arms had not only restored his offense, but also made his entire body incomparably coordinated. He no longer had to drag around limp arms like useless burdens.

Hong Fei's eyes widened slightly. Every hair on his body stood on end, and his skin instantly tightened. Yet overall, his body appeared completely relaxed, his muscles and bones loose and scattered, without the slightest sign of preparing for battle.

The muscles and bones had to be loose, the skin and hair had to attack; every joint linked together, with emptiness and spirit held within.

The skin and hair were external, while the strength and bones were internal. This was the image of being relaxed within and taut without.

Kung Fu contained movement and stillness, the Yin-Yang posture.

Relaxed within and taut without meant movement and stillness merged, Yin-Yang harmony. Only then could one erupt naturally before an enemy, moving without conscious intent.

Bullseye's punches lacked some of Frank's fierce, broad, sweeping power, but carried even more of the sharp intent to kill with every strike.

That suited his identity as an assassin and killer.

His fist tore through the wind toward Hong Fei's face, the approaching fist rapidly enlarging in his vision.

Hong Fei dropped his shoulders, sinking swiftly like an iron ox plunging into mud.

The fist skimmed past his hair. Bullseye felt Hong Fei suddenly vanish from view, and when his gaze dropped, he saw Hong Fei's wrists pressed together, all ten fingers spread wide as his hands slanted upward toward Bullseye's armpit.

Bullseye's forward punch had yet to reach its limit, while Hong Fei surged against the flow. At first glance, it looked as though he had voluntarily thrown himself into the attack.

The moment they connected, Hong Fei's palms turned into claws. As he locked Bullseye down, his fingers clamped like iron pincers onto the two masses of muscle outside Bullseye's shoulder bone.

Beneath the armpit lay sensitive, vulnerable arteries and nerve clusters. If struck hard, the entire arm would instantly feel as if it had been electrocuted, aching and numb beyond endurance.

With Hong Fei's lock, the power gathered throughout Bullseye's arm immediately scattered, and his expression changed at once.

If Hong Fei had been more ruthless, twisting his hands inward and outward while gripping tightly, he could not only dislocate Bullseye's bones, but also tear his muscles, send agony through his nerves, and instantly rob him of his fighting ability.

But there was no need to go that far now.

Bullseye gritted his teeth and endured the pain as his other hand swung toward Hong Fei's temple.

But the true killing move was not that. It was his calf, which had silently sprung upward.

A groin kick.

It was not exactly honorable, but it was undeniably powerful. The target was even more sensitive and vulnerable than the armpit.

With attacks coming from above and below, a moment of carelessness could make him lose sight of one while defending the other, allowing Bullseye to turn defeat into victory.

Hong Fei withdrew both hands without hesitation, raising one fist to guard beside his ear and lowering one palm to protect his groin.

Two muffled bangs rang out, and snow flew from the tops of Bullseye's shoes.

Bullseye's strength was truly considerable, but Hong Fei's bones were clearly harder. His upper and lower body did not shift in the slightest, his horse stance solid as a bronze deity cast whole from the inside out.

When the strike failed, Bullseye immediately pulled back. His fists became flat palms, his five fingers tightly pressed together as they shot straight for Hong Fei's eyes.

His fingertips were like blades, strength flowing through them. If they landed solidly, his fingers would likely stab directly into Hong Fei's eye sockets.

Hong Fei raised his palms. From shoulder to elbow, elbow to wrist, and even through his fingers, everything was soft and boneless, like willow branches swaying in the wind.

Even stranger were his footwork. His starting posture was extremely low, his steps light and gentle, as though he were wading through mud. Step by step, he threaded through the snow, which rustled apart on both sides as if a spirit snake were slithering beneath its surface.

His steps swung and hooked, and his body shifted sideways to Bullseye's left. His lower palm turned upward, and after the back of his hand touched Bullseye's left arm, it seemed to stick there. Then his palm flipped and pushed.

Guiding the force, Bullseye's arms and upper body immediately tipped to one side. Fury burned in his eyes as he hurriedly stepped forward and stomped heavily, sending snow flying high again. Yet that step helped him halt his stagger in advance, and the top of his shoe suddenly bulged as though he might burst it apart with a single kick.

Turning back around, he pivoted on his toes. His waist drove his right leg in a low, forceful strike at Hong Fei's calf, concealed by the flying snow.

Thump!

A footstep boomed like a morning bell and evening drum. Hong Fei stepped forward to seize the centerline, and the snow beneath him suddenly sank without sending any flakes flying.

His arms spread like an eagle's wings, his palm wind fierce and penetrating as it struck Bullseye squarely in the abdomen.

Bullseye immediately flew into the air, and the leg he had kicked out naturally failed to achieve anything.

Fortunately, the snow was soft and Hong Fei had held back. Two seconds after landing, Bullseye sprang back to his feet with a kip-up, madness gradually rising in his fire-sparking gaze.

Over the past month, Hong Fei had long noticed that Bullseye's mental state was deeply abnormal.

For anyone else, losing all more than two hundred fights in a month would have made them unwilling to fight long ago. Even if forced, they would merely go through the motions.

But Bullseye had not.

Such a mentality could be called growing braver with every setback, yet he possessed an indescribable ruthlessness and reckless madness that others lacked.

Bullseye attacked again, continuously letting out meaningless cries.

Hong Fei twisted, turned, swung, hooked, and moved in circles beneath his feet. His twin palms avoided direct attacks and struck from angles, circling around Bullseye and striking points, revolving again and again without end.

As the center of that circle, Bullseye could only keep turning to deal with Hong Fei's shadow-like, swift-as-the-wind attacks.

As time passed, Hong Fei struck faster and faster. The sharp, rapid crackling sounds seemed to urge the falling snow between heaven and earth to descend ever more fiercely.

Likewise, Bullseye's cries turned into beast-like howls.

Listening to him, the furrow between Hong Fei's brows deepened.

A moment later, Bullseye's howls did not lessen. Instead, they became increasingly frenzied. The liveliness had vanished from his eyes, and he resembled more a Beast that refused to be tamed.

Seeing this, Hong Fei's brow gradually relaxed.

He deflected Bullseye's fist with one palm, turned with the momentum, and circulated his strength in a perfect round. Both palms thrust out together, the wind shrieking as swirling snow rushed into the distance.

The move struck Bullseye squarely beneath the chin. His head immediately snapped back, folding until it nearly touched his back. His heavy body rose into the air, then crashed down after flying several meters.

Hong Fei withdrew his hands and stood still. At some point, his feet had carved an almost perfect circle into the snow.

Watching Bullseye struggle to turn his head, blood quickly spilling from the corner of his mouth while his limbs remained utterly motionless, Hong Fei could not help shaking his head.

Frank, who had been silently watching the battle, stepped forward.

Before he could speak, Hong Fei said, "He's beyond saving."

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