Little Southern Chen

Great Yan.

Langning.

Chen Residence.

Creak~

Chen Jichuan pushed open the door and stepped out, only to see heavy snow swirling down, dressing the Chen Residence in silver finery, enchanting beyond compare.

"Thirty-two days."

"Thirty-five years."

Thirty-two days had passed in reality.

Thirty-five years had also passed in Great Yan.

Looking at the snow outside,

Chen Jichuan could not help marveling at the mysteries of time. The four-hundredfold difference in time made him feel a powerful sense of dislocation every time he entered or left Great Yan.

Braving the wind and snow,

he walked through the courtyard.

Snowflakes fell upon Chen Jichuan. Having trained his body through martial arts, his blood and qi were like a blazing furnace. As his blood and qi steamed, the snowflakes evaporated into mist around him, making him seem like an immortal descending to the mortal world.

People were rarely seen in the Chen Residence. Someone only came to clean it once every ten days.

But when Chen Jichuan reached the backyard, he heard the thudding sounds of fists and feet.

"Someone?"

Chen Jichuan frowned, the snow beneath his feet crunching softly.

After only a few steps, he saw that the backyard where he had once practiced martial arts had been neatly arranged with training equipment: wooden posts, iron posts, green bamboo, sand walls, stone locks, archery targets, and more.

Though the layout remained unchanged, it was clear that the equipment had been replaced.

Inside a shed built of crossbeams, eighteen sharp blades of varying lengths hung across upper, middle, and lower tiers. A middle-aged martial artist of roughly thirty or forty stood among them, batting with his hands and kicking with his feet, dodging nimbly and moving as fast as lightning. Not a single blade touched him; every movement was clean and crisp.

Whenever his fists and feet moved,

thudding sounds rang out, clearly carrying no little force.

Chen Jichuan looked closely and, with his insight, recognized the man. "So it's him."

A thought stirred.

He charged forward.

"Good timing!"

The sharp blades swayed before the eyes, obscuring their faces from one another. Seeing someone barge in, the man in the shed was both startled and furious. With a shout, he brought four fingers together and struck straight for Chen Jichuan's arm.

"What a kind heart."

Chen Jichuan chuckled inwardly.

He remained unhurried.

He likewise brought four fingers together, then curled his wrist into an eagle claw and seized him fiercely—

"His!"

The man opposite him cried out in pain. They separated at the first touch, but he called out in shocked suspicion, "Golden Shovel Finger?"

Chen Jichuan remained unmoved.

Seizing the momentum, he stepped forward, brushed aside the sharp blades, slipped past their tips, and reached for the other man with one hand like a cloud dragon emerging into the sun. His five fingers formed a claw, seeking to capture him alive.

"Eagle Claw Technique?"

Another cry rang out.

Yet the man retreated a step and kicked out, letting a sharp blade sway past as he evaded the claw. His leg shot straight at Chen Jichuan like an arrow. Chen Jichuan also turned sideways and kicked—

"Iron Broom Technique?!"

The man grew ever more suspicious, but his hands and feet did not stop.

"Blades whirl in chaos all around, / Bitter training through countless springs. / Dodge in haste from every side, / Rush high and low, yet none may touch."

Both men practiced the Golden Blade Exchange Palm Technique. Their eyes and hands were swift, their footwork and movement techniques agile and ever-changing. The eighteen sharp blades danced wildly around them. They had to guard against each other's fists and feet while also guarding against the swaying blades. Their nerves had to be stretched to the limit, allowing not the slightest mistake.

In reality, Chen Jichuan had been constrained and unable to fight to his heart's content.

This time, he gave it everything.

His fists were like the wind.

His legs were like lightning.

For a time, he fought with utter exhilaration.

The man opposite him, however, after thirty or fifty exchanges, felt pain coursing through his fists, feet, legs, and arms. But what horrified him even more was that the martial arts this man used were extraordinarily similar to his own, and in terms of mastery, were even superior to his.

Golden Blade Exchange Palm Technique.

Water-Splitting Technique.

Golden Shovel Finger.

Iron Sand Palm Technique.

Crouching Tiger Technique.

Eagle Claw Technique.

If only one or two techniques had been similar, it would not have been strange. But every martial art he used came from what the man himself had learned. That was truly strange.

"Could it be that Master Chen has other disciples in this world?"

Seeing that he was no match, Lu Changshou's mind was thrown into disorder. He simply retreated two swift steps, leaping out of the shed and out of the fight.

Looking inside,

he saw a figure glide out easily from among the chaotic sharp blades like a swimming fish.

He stopped before him.

The sight seemed familiar, striking Lu Changshou and awakening memories from long ago.

Taking a closer look at the man,

Lu Changshou first frowned, his expression uncertain with shock. "You are—"

Seeing Lu Changshou's changing expression, Chen Jichuan was also taken aback. He asked curiously, "You still remember me?"

He remembered that when he had last seen Lu Changshou, the latter had only been six years old. Thirty-five years had passed; he should no longer have recognized him.

"Just as I thought!"

Lu Changshou did not know what Chen Jichuan was thinking. Hearing that familiar voice, he immediately became excited. "It truly is Master Chen?!"

"So you really do remember."

Chen Jichuan laughed soundlessly.

When he had bid Lu Xiong farewell, he had met four generations of the Lu family, including Lu Changshou. But Lu Changshou had only been six then. After thirty-five years, Chen Jichuan had assumed no one would remember his appearance or voice. Yet unexpectedly, Lu Changshou recognized him after only one look and one sentence.

Name: Lu Changshou

Age: 41

Level: 5

Spells: Crouching Tiger Technique (Level 5), Golden Blade Exchange Palm Technique (Level 4), Golden Shovel Finger (Level 4), Iron Broom Technique (Level 3), Eagle Claw Technique (Level 3), Jade Belt Technique (Level 2), Land-Flying Technique (Level 2), Water-Splitting Technique (Level 2), Iron Bull Technique (Level 2)

"Master Chen—"

"Your great-grandson Changshou pays his respects to you, Master!"

Lu Changshou's heart churned. Startled and overjoyed, he bowed to the ground, then looked up at this elder with waves crashing wildly in his heart.

He had been born with an exceptional memory.

He could remember even things he had experienced at the age of two.

His final meeting with Master Chen at age six, when Chen Jichuan was known as Chen of the Southern Dynasty, had left an even deeper impression upon him.

This Master Chen had profoundly influenced his whole life.

As a child, he had been immersed in the man's influence and admired his great reputation. After personally witnessing Master Chen's formidable martial arts at age six, he had resolved to practice martial arts himself.

From his teenage years onward,

after his sinews and bones had developed, he took the Essentials of Martial Arts Master Chen had left for him and sought out the Lu Family Martial Academy of Second Master's branch, formally embarking upon the path of martial arts.

He was deeply interested in martial arts.

His family ran White Jade Capital, and their wealth was considerable.

He could also endure hardship.

Within a few years, he had achieved modest success.

Afterward, he challenged fighters everywhere and never ceased his arduous training, growing ever stronger. Since he often called himself the sole successor of Chen of the Southern Dynasty when fighting others abroad, the martial world of Lingnan commonly called him Little Southern Chen, a title in which Lu Changshou took great pride.

Regrettably,

Master Chen had vanished without a trace after leaving thirty-five years ago, and no news of him had ever come again.

He often had doubts while practicing martial arts but could not seek guidance. Even after attaining success in martial arts, he had been unable to let Master Chen know. He had thought that Master Chen might already have passed away, hoping only that he would know in the underworld that a successor remained, and find some comfort in that.

Who could have imagined—

"Master, you have mastered the art of preserving your youth. You look exactly the same as you did thirty-five years ago. Of course Changshou recognized you."

Lu Changshou silently called himself sinful, both delighted and shocked.

He was delighted that he could see Master Chen again in this lifetime. Little Southern Chen meeting Great Southern Chen filled him with excitement.

What shocked him was that thirty-five years had passed. This Master Chen should have been ninety-four years old, yet he looked only thirty or forty. His fists and feet were still vigorous and powerful, and even Lu Changshou was no match for him.

It was truly unheard of.

"You are forty-one now, and your martial arts have reached great attainment. There is no need for such grand formalities before me."

Chen Jichuan smiled.

He had always been kind to his own people. Looking at the short but sturdy middle-aged man before him, he recalled the innocent, carefree six-year-old child he had seen only a month ago in real time.

For a moment,

Chen Jichuan felt time and space growing ever more chaotic.

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There will be another chapter at eight tonight.

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