Bone Kneading

"Ah, Yang, it really is you."

"You've been gone nearly seven years."

"You've changed so much. When I only caught a glimpse of you earlier, I nearly called the whole village out with knives."

Having recognized Zhao Yang, Wang Chuan was both shocked and delighted. He immediately opened the floodgates, as though he had returned to those childhood days when the still-growing Zhao Yang had followed at his heels all day, endlessly calling him "Brother."

Zhao Yang wore a broad smile as well, chatting nonstop with Wang Chuan.

Beside them, Zhao Hong had already swallowed several mouthfuls of saliva.

The way he looked at Uncle Yang was as though he were looking at a treasure trove.

"Uncle, I'll go notify Great-uncle first."

Seeing that he could not get a word in, Zhao Hong tossed out that sentence and dashed toward Zhao Yang's home.

Zhao Yang's father and Zhao Hong's grandfather were brothers. That was the connection.

Watching Zhao Hong's retreating figure, Zhao Yang smiled, his heart brimming with emotion.

Six or seven years apart.

When he returned, the children of old had all grown up.

"How long will you be staying this time?" Wang Chuan asked.

"I'm not leaving for now."

"I should be able to stay quite a while."

Wang Chuan's eyes lit up.

"That's wonderful."

"With you in the village, we'll probably be safer than in the county seat. The mountains have been far too unsettled lately. Just two days ago, a demon rat ran into the village and frightened Ah Hong so badly that he lay in bed for two days before recovering today." Wang Chuan sighed.

"Oh?"

Zhao Yang raised his brows slightly and looked in the direction Zhao Hong had left, doubts rising in his heart.

He had lain in bed for two days and only recovered today.

Yet in Zhao Yang's eyes, Zhao Hong looked perfectly fine—vigorous as a dragon and tiger, nothing like someone who had just recovered.

Being affected and intimidated by a demon was not something one could recover from so quickly.

"Don't worry, Uncle Chuan. Leave everything to me."

"Tell your uncle honestly—what cultivation are you at now?"

Wang Chuan rubbed his hands together, probing cautiously and curiously.

If the younger generation saw him like this, their eyes would surely fall out.

As the strongest person in the village, Wang Chuan was usually immensely imposing.

A single glance from him could frighten a youth into standing rigid, not daring to move an inch.

Zhang Tai's behavior before him could only be described in four words: meek and submissive.

At the mention of cultivation, Zhao Yang sighed inwardly, then smiled. "In a place like Stone Valley County, there probably aren't many people who are my match."

"Gasp!"

Zhao Yang's return caused quite a stir in the tiny Clear Creek Village.

The older generation and the able-bodied adults all remembered him vividly.

Those around Zhao Hong's age had somewhat hazier memories, but the information mentioned by the adults stirred up fragments of memories long buried in dust. That figure and that name gradually became clear.

He had entered the Great Martial Arts Hall in the prefectural city as a personal disciple.

An incomparably powerful martial artist.

To the able-bodied adults and the older generation, Zhao Yang's return—and his intention to stay for some time—made him the pillar that steadied Clear Creek Village.

To peers like Zhao Hong, he was practically an idol.

These past few days.

The entire village had been bustling with excitement.

As though it were New Year's.

Especially after the village chief announced that Zhao Yang would personally teach everyone martial arts, the atmosphere surged to its absolute peak.

Over the past few days, Zhao Hong had wisely not gone to disturb Zhao Yang.

Though he desperately wanted to study martial arts under Zhao Yang, he also knew that after being away for six long years, Zhao Yang would certainly need to spend time with his parents and elders first.

That day.

All the village youths gathered in the small square.

A great many villagers crowded around to watch.

There was no other reason.

Today was Zhao Yang's first day teaching martial arts.

Zhang Tai stood at the very front, head held high and chest out like a proud swan.

The moment Zhao Yang appeared, his waist bent at once.

For the first time, Zhao Hong saw on this fellow's face an expression of "reverence so extreme it nearly became flattery."

The murmurs instantly vanished without a trace.

Everyone stood ramrod straight, as though awaiting inspection.

Wang Chuan said from the side, "There are only a little over twenty of suitable age. Usually, we teach them the Six-Part Body-Strengthening Art and some simple saber techniques."

Zhang Yuan added, "There aren't many talented ones among these twenty-odd boys, but if you teach them for a while after coming back, Ah Yang, I reckon at least three or four martial artists will emerge in the future."

Zhao Yang nodded faintly and walked straight toward the crowd.

"Spread out a little. I'll knead your bones first."

As soon as he spoke, the youths immediately scattered somewhat.

Wang Chuan and Zhang Yuan exchanged glances, faint anticipation in their eyes.

They did not know Bone Kneading.

They could only roughly judge talent from the usual growth in strength and progress in practicing saber and fist techniques.

Starting at the edge, Zhao Yang gripped shoulders, spines, arms, and other areas, pressing and kneading them over and over.

The youth beneath his hands had his face twisted in pain.

Just as he was about to cry, a shout came from the distance.

"You little brat, if you dare cry, I'll beat your ass to pieces."

The child's impending wail was frightened back down his throat almost instantly.

Even Zhao Yang could not help laughing.

"Pretty good."

"Pretty good?"

The youth's eyes widened, ecstatic.

Zhao Yang moved on to the next one.

"Pretty good."

"Not bad."

Watching the children's delighted expressions, Zhao Hong's mouth twitched slightly.

He was not some easy-to-fool little kid.

These were clearly the sort of perfunctory assessments adults used to fob people off.

After kneading seven or eight of them, all he heard was "pretty good" and "not bad."

It would be stranger if there were no trick to it.

As Wang Chuan and Zhang Yuan watched, helplessness filled their faces.

Naturally, they could hear the meaning behind those evaluations.

The truth was too cruel.

It would be too easy to crush these children's enthusiasm.

Then it was Zhao Hong's turn.

"Uncle Yang."

Zhao Yang nodded slightly and immediately got to work.

Zhao Hong only felt a faint ache in his muscles as Zhao Yang's fingers pressed down. Then a current of force surged into him, enveloping his tendons and bones.

After the faint pain, it actually felt quite good.

As Zhao Yang's hands moved over him.

Zhao Yang's expression turned strange.

"Does it hurt?"

"No..."

Thinking of his companions' reactions earlier, Zhao Hong's words abruptly took a turn midway. "Not too much."

As he spoke, he deliberately bared his teeth and grimaced, putting on an expression of great pain.

Zhao Yang's mouth twitched. He was utterly speechless.

How had this boy become so sly?

Back when he used to follow behind him, catching fish and shrimp, he had been utterly foolish.

Zhao Yang could clearly tell just how much Zhao Hong was putting on an act. Ripples gradually rose in his heart, and the force beneath his palm increased along with them.

There was a slight change beneath Zhao Hong's facial pretense.

But not much.

Zhao Yang drew a deep breath, an imperceptible gleam flashing through his eyes.

Very soon.

He released his hand.

"Pretty good."

Then he turned to the next one.

Zhao Hong fell into thought.

He had only begun pretending after Zhao Yang asked him, so naturally he could not hide it from Zhao Yang's eyes.

But Zhao Yang's subtle reaction had not escaped his senses either.

After all, it had been done to his own body.

The increase in force had been crystal clear.

That "pretty good" assessment was definitely different from everyone else's.

I wonder whether Uncle Yang sensed anything unusual about my Dragon Tendon and Tiger Bones?

He felt both excitement and a little nervousness.

Later, when it came to the few people universally acknowledged to be the best—such as Zhang Tai, Li Damao, Li Ermao, and Wang Xiaodong—Zhao Yang's assessments changed from "pretty good" to "not bad" and "very good."

Clearly, Zhao Yang had already learned about their circumstances over the past few days.

Besides, with his strength and discernment, it was easy for him to tell.

They were all publicly recognized.

It satisfied these few boys' youthful vanity without making the others feel too great a gap.