Yin-Yang Silk-Reeling Hands

Deep into the still of night, the transmission of the art was complete.

A girl emerged soundlessly from the woods behind the Mountain-Guarding Old Man, a hunting rifle on her back and a hunting knife at her waist. It was Shuang'er.

"Grandmaster, his foundation isn't established yet. Having him start breathing practice first, isn't that..."

Though she looked only fourteen or fifteen, her breathing was long and steady, her steps light and silent. Clearly, she too had developed considerable martial skill. Her bright eyes were fixed on the direction Lian Youming had gone.

The Mountain-Guarding Old Man's gaze was calm, his face impassive. "Don't let that boy fool you. He looks inexperienced, but he's full of schemes. I suspect he never believed me at all. A pity you're not a boy. Watching and listening won't give you the true transmission. We may be grandfather and granddaughter, but an ocean divides us. The rules must never be broken."

Shuang'er blinked and asked softly, "Then will he help us?"

The Mountain-Guarding Old Man said coldly, "He's just an unlucky wretch caught up in this turmoil. He can barely protect himself, let alone help us. Those who live by the martial world die by it. The martial world lies right before me, and since he's barged into it, his life and death are up to fate. Had he not shown a willingness to save someone, why would I have taught him a genuine art? Whether he lives or dies after practicing it is entirely up to heaven."

After a pause, the old man seemed to give the matter further careful consideration. "My time is nearly up, and those people down the mountain are watching like tigers. In this battle, I must clear every obstacle out of your way. If he's lucky, I can still give him a hand when it's over. If he isn't, he'll have only his bad luck to blame."

Shuang'er's small face was taut, her cheeks tanned reddish brown by years of wind and sun. She did not pursue the matter, instead saying gravely, "Grandmaster, word came from town. They say the Xingyi Sect has produced a formidable traitor who vowed to slaughter every member of the sect. He's already come to our area."

The Mountain-Guarding Old Man raised his eyebrows. "Who?"

The girl said quietly, "Xue Hen."

"Xue Hen?" The old man froze, then gave a peculiar smile. "An interesting name. Could he be that man's disciple or granddisciple, one of his followers? That man took the wrong path back then and ended up condemned by heaven and earth, dead without a burial place. Now another wretch who betrays his master and ancestors has turned up. They really are cut from the same cloth."

As he spoke, the Mountain-Guarding Old Man's gaze suddenly sharpened. "So that's it. I was wondering why Third Brother Xie had moved ahead of time. It's because of this man."

The girl had come quickly and left even faster, as though she had come only to say those few words, leaving the old man sitting alone beneath the moon.

The old man raised his head and gazed at the moon.

Without realizing it, he had sat through more than seventy years of nights like this. Looking back now, those twenty-five thousand-odd nights seemed like one long, distant dream.

It seemed to have still been the Republican era then. Peerless masters had burst onto the scene. Some had commanded the age, honored by all three teachings, while others had swept through the martial worlds of north and south, commanding both sides of the law, unmatched beneath heaven...

Gazing at the moon, the old man suddenly murmured a song:

"Heaven's light shines ten thousand miles upon the world,

The earth's veins cross to guard the roots.

Hong's righteousness endures, bright as sun and moon,

The gate opens to the four seas, gathering worthy souls."

After a long while, the old man looked at the four desolate graves and sighed. "Heaven's will. I've passed it on... passed it on..."

Meanwhile, down the mountain.

Inside a solitary wooden cabin, the red glow of a stove lit several faces.

Third Brother Xie sat cross-legged on the heated bed, Tobacco Pipe in hand, puffing clouds of smoke.

Several others sat before him, all dressed differently: a bespectacled teacher in a Zhongshan suit, an old man dressed as a villager, a broad, thickset village woman, and a short, scrawny dwarf.

The village woman tucked her hands into her sleeves and asked, "What do we do now? It's getting cold so fast, I reckon the mountains'll be snowed in within days. Just the time to butcher that old bastard."

The dwarf had a tangled mop of dry, yellowed hair and bulging eyes. He screeched, "Better kill everyone up the mountain too, and everyone in this village. I don't want a single one left alive."

"Kill, my ass." Thoroughly displeased, the village woman snapped, "You little shit, you think this is still the end of the Qing or the start of the Republic? That Xue fellow's martial arts were unmatched, and didn't guns and cannons get him all the same...? If you're looking to die, don't drag us into it."

The dwarf sneered. "Since when did you turn so spineless, woman? After hiding all these years, do you really think you're a good wife and loving mother? Heh, every one of us deserves death by a thousand cuts. Our hands are soaked in blood. No matter how you change, you can't wash it off."

"Enough arguing." Third Brother Xie frowned and brought his pipe down on the table with a clang. "We haven't even started, and you're already fighting among yourselves. We'll listen to Fifth on this. When the time comes, we'll put something in their food and wait until they're all unconscious before we act."

The teacher in the Zhongshan suit suddenly spoke, slowly and deliberately. "By my reckoning, that Yang fellow must be close to losing his cultivated power."

Third Brother Xie sighed with deep feeling. "Yes. That's what makes this moment so dangerous. If he doesn't act, nothing happens. Once he does, every step brings deadly peril."

The small old man with a goatee, dressed as a villager, chimed in, "He started guarding this place in the jiwei year, didn't he?"

That single sentence seemed to hold countless emotions.

Expressionless, Third Brother Xie kept tapping the copper bowl of his pipe and replied, "The eighth year of the Republic."

The goateed old man suddenly laughed, wild and crazed, his eyes brimming with murderous intent. Though he was laughing, cloudy tears welled at their corners. "Heh, heh. That old bastard really fucking held on until the great ordeal of losing his power. Dragged us into wasting our whole lives with him. Quite something."

Third Brother Xie's eyelids twitched. He picked up a peanut from the table, crushed its shell between his fingertips, blew off the red skin, and put it in his mouth. Chewing, he said, "Exactly sixty years. No more, no less."

He forced out those few words with his cheeks taut and his teeth clenched, as though using every ounce of strength he had.

Third Brother Xie's wandering gaze steadied. He said heavily, "This is our last chance. With those educated youths coming up the mountain, we might be able to distract Old Yang. True, he was Taiji Gate's hidden hand back then, doing all its dirty work, but he's still Yang Luchan's granddisciple. Surely he can't be utterly heartless."

The elderly dwarf said, "That's hardly certain. When you drove a tiger to maul his disciple to death, he didn't come down the mountain. Even if he took revenge in the end, the man's clearly got a heart of stone."

Third Brother Xie listened to the wind moaning outside the window. Only after a long while did he say wistfully, "Heartless or stonehearted, it's time to settle this grudge."

The next day.

"Chirp, chirp, chirp..."

Breathing in the bitterly cold air and chewing a grass stem, Lian Youming lay in a heap of rotting leaves that gave off a putrid smell. A hunting rifle was slung on his back, a dog-fur cap sat on his head, and he wore the army greatcoat Platoon Leader Yang had given him. Looking into the distance, he saw two wild chickens pecking at a pile of broken rice on the ground.

Hazel grouse.

Good stuff.

In a few more years, these things would be off the menu.

Lian Youming took out his Slingshot, stretched its four rubber tubes, and loaded two clay pellets he had rolled himself. Aiming with his left eye, he released his right hand, sending both pellets flying silently.

Without the slightest sound, two puffs of feathers scattered. Both wild chickens had been hit.

"Haha, got them!"

Lian Youming scrambled up, spat out the grass stem, and ran over in delight.

"Still hopping around, huh? I'll stew the pair of you in a bit... Uncle Xie, one each for us."

Watching the boy grin foolishly with the wild chickens in his hands, Third Brother Xie smiled too. "Clay pellets? Well, lad, you've actually learned a thing or two about using a slingshot."

Lian Youming wore a harmless smile. "I just figured it out by messing around."

Third Brother Xie said reflectively, "Slingshots may be nothing but children's toys now, but there's a lot to them. Different ammunition gives different results. Back in the late Qing and early Republic, there were a few experts with slingshots. Stones, clay pellets, iron pellets, lead pellets-they used them all, with endless variations. They could even pack them with poisonous smoke or gunpowder. A pity guns and cannons replaced them all in the end."

Lian Youming stuffed the two birds into the leather pouch at the back of his waist and asked thoughtfully, "Uncle Xie, can those martial arts masters beat guns and cannons?"

Third Brother Xie shook his head. "Hard to say."

"What's hard about it? I say, no matter how far you train, you're still flesh and blood. A sword or saber will cut a hole in you just the same." Lian Youming muttered, "It's all just tricks and swindles."

Hearing Lian Youming belittle martial arts, Third Brother Xie could not be bothered to waste his breath. After spending this much time with him, he felt he had the boy's temperament figured out: a playful child who liked wild boasting and idle chatter, always grinning and joking, unreliable through and through.

When the other man did not answer, Lian Youming grew wary inwardly. In the space of a single night, the man had acquired an inexplicable air, like a taut string.

Could he be getting ready to act?

With that, the two made another couple of rounds through the woods. Lian Youming deliberately headed toward the foot of the mountain, going all the way to a river at the edge of the Logging Camp.

Third Brother Xie seemed indifferent, but he did not fall behind.

The winding river all but divided the vast mountain forest in two, stretching to the end of their vision, its destination unknown.

Feeling that gaze behind him, Lian Youming was uncomfortable all over. Faintly, he could also sense a trace of indescribable killing intent that made his scalp prickle.

Lian Youming stopped and turned his stiff neck to look back, only to find Third Brother Xie gazing at the sky. The killing intent that had seemed to graze his skin had vanished too.

"Uncle Xie, what are you looking at?"

Third Brother Xie gave a smile that did not reach his eyes. "It's going to snow."

The walk from the foot of the mountain to the top took over forty minutes. The two returned just in time for lunch.

With a basin of cabbage and radish soup, Lian Youming ate seven or eight corn cakes, leaving several of the female educated youths staring in astonishment.

That afternoon, he spent another few hours carrying logs with the others.

Once work was over and they had eaten, a group of male educated youths eagerly crowded into their dormitory.

Back from the clinic, Liu Dabiao called out in his Tianjin accent, pulled a set of clappers from his waist, and began performing with a flick of his wrist.

The sound of poetry recitation soon followed from the women's quarters.

"Taking leave of Cambridge once more..."

Lian Youming sat on the heated bed eating pine nuts, too lazy to go out.

But as he listened, several toad calls suddenly reached him through the north wind howling outside the window. He raised his eyebrows at once and slipped out of the dormitory, using a trip to the toilet as his excuse.

As soon as he came outside, Lian Youming spotted the Mountain-Guarding Old Man's skeletal figure in the distance.

He probably can't wait any longer.

Recalling the sight of him breathing out gray vapor that day, his body giving off a putrid smell, Lian Youming thought his body was probably close to giving out.

The man said nothing. His figure flickered and vanished into the dusk.

Lian Youming hurried after him, following him into the clearing where he lived.

Looking at the man's ashen face, Lian Youming blurted out, "They seem about ready to make their move."

The Mountain-Guarding Old Man's gaze was gloomy. "I know. A great master has now appeared in the county. If these people want to leave nothing to chance, they can only make their final gamble this winter. Once they miss it, they'll never have another opportunity."

"Then why did you call me here?" Lian Youming was a little puzzled.

The Mountain-Guarding Old Man said evenly, "I called you here today because I wanted to teach you another supreme art. Do you want to learn?"

Lian Youming kept feeling that the man's manner of speaking sounded like someone from ancient times, making it particularly uncomfortable to listen to. But he would never let an opportunity like this pass, and he nodded eagerly.

"Come with me." As he spoke, the Mountain-Guarding Old Man headed toward another earthen house.

Lian Youming looked pleased, but inwardly he was uneasy. He's being so generous. Could he feel sorry for me because he thinks I've barely any chance of surviving?

The Mountain-Guarding Old Man pushed open the door and lit a lamp.

As the lamplight flared, it revealed an enormous stone ball inside the earthen house, with a large, half-person-high water vat in the middle of the room.

The old man rolled up his sleeves and slowly lowered his right hand into the vat.

"Watch closely."

Lian Youming looked intently. Though the old man clearly was not moving, ripples slowly rose in the vat, then gradually began to swirl, as though a great invisible hand were stirring the water.

"I taught you a breathing method before. Today, I might as well teach you a form of Coiling Silk Force as well. Coiling Silk Force is an exceptionally sophisticated method of training Hua Jin. The force travels in spirals. Applied through both hands, it becomes Yin-Yang Silk-Reeling Hands. If you can master it throughout your whole body, any external force brought against you will be like a clay ox entering the sea."

Lian Youming seemed to recall something. "That strange force you used to knock me down that night?"

The Mountain-Guarding Old Man nodded. "That's right."

Looking by the lamplight, Lian Youming saw that although the old man seemed motionless, ridges and furrows were faintly spreading beneath his black padded jacket. Its two sleeves in particular visibly swelled and bulged, tightening and contracting, as though great winds and waves were surging beneath his clothes.

Lian Youming marveled inwardly. This looked rather like what had happened when that man on the train had breathed in and out.

He could not help asking, "Besides Hua Jin, are there other training methods?"

The Mountain-Guarding Old Man said, "These things can't be explained in a few words. For now, you need only properly grasp the workings of this. If there's an opportunity, I'll tell you."

As he spoke, the old man actually tore off his black jacket, baring his upper body.

Under Lian Youming's incredulous gaze, the man's withered body suddenly expanded. Even his dull skin and flesh seemed to take on a luster in an instant, like a writhing mass of dough.

"What... what is this?"

Lian Youming's eyes widened, shock showing on his face as he instinctively retreated half a step. Then the man turned around, revealing countless muscles and sinews rippling and trembling across his back. In the dim lamplight, they looked like fish swimming endlessly around his spine, mysterious and extraordinary, a sight to shock the world.

The Mountain-Guarding Old Man's voice drifted over. "These are the paths the muscles and sinews follow, the secret to releasing force."

As he spoke, the old man lifted one arm.

In an instant, the clear water spun rapidly into a huge vortex, torrents spiraling upward as though about to leave the vat...

I felt some of the earlier details were a little rushed, so I made some revisions starting from chapter five...

(End of chapter)