Early the next morning, Hong Yuan had just stepped out of his room when he saw Yang Erhu, likewise fully dressed, shut his door and windows and enter the courtyard training ground.
"Teacher!"
Hong Yuan went over to greet him, then frowned, his gaze flicking toward Yang Erhu's right arm. "Are you hurt?"
An improvement in root bone brought all-around improvements in strength, speed, reflexes, and the toughness of muscle and bone. Naturally, that included his sense of smell.
With a twitch of his nose, Hong Yuan caught a faint trace of blood on Yang Erhu.
Yang Erhu patted his right arm with his left hand and smiled. "I slipped getting out of bed and scraped a little skin off my arm. Nothing serious. Ah! Old age catches up with us all. I'm not what I was in my younger days."
"Your muscles and bones are strong, Teacher. Few young men could compare with you."
Hong Yuan smiled too, but he recalled hearing Yang Erhu's door move twice last night, with a considerable interval between them—once when he left, once when he returned.
Hong Yuan had been practicing his meditation method at the time and had paid little attention. Thinking back now, had Yang Erhu gone out in the dead of night to challenge someone... or to settle a grudge?
Still, Yang Erhu's steps were steady, and he looked as vigorous as a dragon and fierce as a tiger, just as always. It probably was only a minor injury, and he likely had not come off worse.
Since Yang Erhu did not wish to elaborate, Hong Yuan did not press him.
Nothing happened that day. All eighteen apprentices and nominal disciples turned up at the Martial Arts Hall. Before Hong Yuan reached the front courtyard's training ground, the three who had been absent yesterday had already heard what had happened from the others.
They learned that the hall master had taken a direct disciple, and that their senior brother Hong Yuan had pinned Meng Yue and the other two most outstanding students to the ground and rubbed their faces in the dirt as soon as he arrived. They listened, dumbstruck, inwardly lamenting their absence yesterday and the fine spectacle they had missed.
The intimidation had yet to wear off, so no new troublemakers emerged. Hong Yuan inspected the entire training ground, corrected some of the apprentices' mistakes, and gave them a brief lecture before finding a corner to train alone.
The next few days passed peacefully as well.
Hong Yuan's life followed a regular routine. Apart from spending a little time instructing the apprentices, he devoted nearly every midday to stance training, guiding exercises, and strengthening his body with the Rock-Solid Skill. In the afternoon, he practiced the Seven Waves-Breaking Slashes, the Tiger-Subduing Fist, and the breathing method.
At night, he trained in meditation.
During this time, Meng Yue occasionally came to ask him for pointers on martial practice, his manner exceedingly respectful.
In truth, Meng Yue was growing anxious.
Very anxious indeed.
Hong Yuan's routine was simply too uneventful. Over these past few days, he seemed never to have left the Martial Arts Hall. If he would not go outside, how were they supposed to strike?
Were they supposed to have Old Third Yan send his men charging straight into the Martial Arts Hall?
Only if Old Third Yan had a hole in his head would he do that. Forcing their way inside would no longer mean killing one man—it would mean trying to wash the entire hall in blood.
What price would Old Third Yan have to pay to pull that off? He would probably have to throw away more than half his men.
Besides, that would hardly serve Meng Yue's interests. He wanted Hong Yuan dead to remove this stumbling block, so he could become Yang Erhu's disciple and obtain the Tiger Roar Breathing Method.
If the Martial Arts Hall were slaughtered, everything would fall apart.
Meng Yue was so anxious that blisters broke out in his mouth, while the men Old Third Yan had dispatched were at their wits' end too.
Old Third Yan was indeed a man who kept his word. Despite suffering a surprise attack that night, he had still sent men out the next day to gather information on Hong Yuan.
His men did not personally tail the target. As the local snakes of the county town, they had better methods.
The idlers and hoodlums wandering the county town... the traveling hawkers crying their wares along the streets and the peddlers selling goods were their finest eyes and ears.
These people already passed back and forth outside the Yang Family Martial Arts Hall every day, so they would arouse no suspicion. Once all their reports were compiled, the target's daily movements would become clear.
With that information, Old Third Yan's men could deploy their forces in advance and lie in ambush somewhere the target often passed. Once he arrived, they would blind him with lime, then shower him with fishing nets, flying stones, mud, piss, and shit. After that, a mob would surround him and hack away with their blades. However skilled Hong Yuan might be, he would fall into their hands.
The plan was beautiful. Unfortunately, their target refused to follow the script!
The strategist serving Old Third Yan was a scholar who had repeatedly failed the examinations. He had entered Old Third Yan's service before the Imperial Court abolished the civil service examinations, and over the years he had earned the nickname "Poison-Heart Scholar."
The Poison-Heart Scholar was nearly sixty, with a goatee and a smiling face that looked rather kindly. He sought out Meng Yue and came straight to the point. "That brat Hong won't leave the Martial Arts Hall. We have no way to strike. You must find a way to lure him out."
"All right!" Meng Yue had no better ideas either. He gritted his teeth and nodded. "I'll handle it. But that Hong fellow is genuinely formidable. Make sure you bring enough men."
"Third Master has held this county town in awe for so many years. Plenty of blind fools calling themselves martial experts have come looking for trouble. As for how they ended up... heh! What does one mere greenhorn amount to? Just lure him out. Leave the rest to us."
The old scholar opened his feather fan and waved it gently, smiling as he spoke in an easy tone.
Meng Yue returned to the Yang Family Martial Arts Hall. Before he even entered, he heard a clamor coming from the training ground.
He hurried inside and saw the apprentices clustered on the left side of the training ground, all craning their necks to peer into the circle.
An enormous wooden barrel stood on the sandy ground. Even his tall, burly frame would have had plenty of room if he curled up inside it.
The barrel was full of water, its surface spreading with ripples.
Meng Yue's gaze shifted, a vicious gleam flashing in his eyes as he caught sight of Hong Yuan on the other side of the grounds, selecting a stone ball and lifting it with one hand.
Meng Yue often trained with the hall's stone balls himself, so he knew their weight. The one in Hong Yuan's hand weighed over fifty jin.
That alone was nothing remarkable; Meng Yue could lift it with one hand too. But Hong Yuan stretched his arm straight out and opened his hand, supporting the stone ball with his palm alone. Neither his body nor his hand wavered, as though the stone ball were merely an egg. Looking perfectly relaxed, he strolled over to the barrel.
Meng Yue's expression darkened. He caught hold of an apprentice beside him. "What is Senior Brother Hong doing?"
The apprentice smiled. "Senior Brother Hong says he's devised a body-strengthening technique. He's about to teach it to us."
"Oh? Senior Brother Hong really is impressive!" Meng Yue offered praise at the proper moment, his eyes fixed on the scene.
Holding the stone ball in one hand, Hong Yuan tossed it into the barrel at an unhurried pace. It fell with a splash. Just as a great spray of water was about to leap up, Hong Yuan thrust both hands out, plunging them into the water like two sharp blades.
Splash!
Hong Yuan moved his arms, slowly stirring the water in the barrel. The water followed his movements, forming a whirlpool.
The onlookers exchanged bewildered glances. Hong Yuan's hands stirred faster and faster, and the whirlpool spun ever more swiftly. In an instant, it resembled a mighty current in the vast ocean, carrying tremendous force.
Then the stone ball, weighing over fifty jin and sunk in the barrel, was swept along by that fierce spinning force and swiftly rolled into Hong Yuan's palms.
Under Hong Yuan's movements, the stone ball seemed to become a leather ball, spinning faster and faster with the water. Suddenly, his arms jolted, thrusting upward.
With a pop and a long trailing spray of water, the stone ball flew more than a zhang into the air.
As cries of astonishment rose around him, the stone ball exhausted its momentum and fell. Hong Yuan stirred the water to cushion some of its force, caught it with both hands, and hurled it upward again.
While the stone ball hung in the air, he suddenly drove his arms with force. The water inside the barrel shuddered violently, countless droplets leaping from its surface. With a thunderous crack, the wooden barrel burst apart, and the water poured out in every direction.
The next instant!
The stone ball dropped straight down and slammed into the sand. Amid the violent tremors, it bounced and thumped like the hearts of the many apprentices present.
"Senior Brother Hong!"
"He's so strong!"
After a brief silence, the apprentices erupted into cheers. Only Meng Yue wore a slightly stiff smile. He clenched his fists. Hong Yuan absolutely cannot be allowed to live!
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