Without much fuss or idle talk, Yang Shuang left as soon as she said she would. In less than two days, she had set off for Hong Kong with A Xing, Master Zhou of the Taiji Gate, and the others.
They were not the only ones who went. Somehow, according to word from the Green Gang Branch, even the Xingyi Sect and Eight Trigrams Sect had made the rare move of sending experts south from the north to Guangzhou.
Unfortunately, none were familiar faces.
Lian Youming had a feeling that Hong Kong was bound for a major purge this time. Forces from all sides were gathering there, the underworld clashing with the law, good facing off against evil. Countless people from every walk of life would likely be killed or wounded.
As for him, he kept studying.
Lian Youming found it easy to quiet his mind, especially once he had settled his resolve.
Compared to Gong Wuer's path along the martial way, which abandoned emotion and desire, or Xue Hen's approach, so obsessed with martial arts that it bordered on madness, Lian Youming preferred days spent tumbling through ordinary life.
Listening to the laughter, tears, and quarrels upstairs and downstairs, tasting life's sweetness, sourness, bitterness, and spice, feeling other people's joys and sorrows, partings and reunions, he sought the extraordinary within the ordinary. Sometimes he wondered: since the realm of "foresight" manifested a certain spiritual state, why couldn't living amid the bustle of everyday life be a form of cultivation? Gong Wuer's "sincerity" verged on divinity.
Xue Hen verged on bestiality.
Both were too far removed from the common people.
They kept that distance to escape luxury and finery, the shackles of love and desire. They had made tremendous sacrifices so their thoughts would be free of ties and restraints,