The outer courtyard, east wing.
A good many sturdy men had gathered in a human wall, pumping their fists and cheering. It was a lively scene.
"Fine moves, young master!"
"That was a brilliant punch!"
"Clearly, it was that kick that was good..."
The guards all talked at once, making such a racket that Dou Xiaowen could no longer stand it. He rapped his tobacco pipe against his wicker chair.
"A bunch of amateurs, getting so worked up when you don't understand a damn thing!"
At Dou Xiaowen's words, the guards immediately quieted down.
One of the bolder ones bent forward and asked:
"Forgive our poor eyes, Master Dou. Why don't you explain it to us?"
Dou Xiaowen gave two cold chuckles and said slowly:
"What's there to explain? A sparring match is a contest of fists and feet.
"Heiwa is still nurturing his Breath, while the young master already has Qi and Blood flowing through his hands and feet. His fists are hard, and his strength is great.
"If they really fought, one punch from the young master would leave Heiwa half dead.
"Right now, he's just using him as a training post to practice the fundamentals of circulating Qi and executing moves!"
So that was it!
The fight looked intense, but the young master wasn't even taking it seriously!
Understanding dawned on the guards' faces.
Someone muttered:
"Just how does the young master train? It's like he's riding a thousand-mile steed while we're walking on two legs. Forget catching up-we can't even see his shadow!"
Another played the know-it-all and explained:
"The young master must have outstanding martial talent, just like the young heroes in storybooks. Training comes as easily to him as eating and drinking!"
Dou Xiaowen smiled without a word.
On the surface, the martial path consisted of "nurturing, practicing, fighting, and killing." In truth, it was "eating, spending, sleeping, and training."
Take Lu Sui now, for instance. After reaching "Strengthening Qi and Blood," he ate five meals a day, all beef, lamb, fish, shrimp, and highly nourishing medicinal dishes.
By a rough reckoning, that cost no less than eighty taels of silver.
When stance training left his thigh muscles hard as iron and his aching waist and back burning like fire, maids massaged him and rubbed in blood-activating ointment.
Not to mention the calming incense lit before bed to help him sleep, and the ginseng tea he drank to nourish Qi.
And how much more silver had it cost to enter the Hundred Victories Martial Arts School and become an indoor disciple to learn genuine skills?
Apart from direct descendants of the Five Great Trades, there was probably no one in Changle County who could afford all this.
"A mere few months matching three to five years of an ordinary person's hard work-how could that happen without spending money?
"With the Lu Family's resources, perhaps the young master really can kick open the gate to the martial path and carve out a great road to the heavens!"
Dou Xiaowen took two puffs on his pipe, exhaled a long stream of smoke, and looked into the courtyard.
A circle had been drawn in white lime on the spacious patch of open ground.
Lu Sui stood motionless while Heiwa slowly circled him with stance steps.
"Hah!"
Three to five breaths later, Heiwa suddenly thundered a shout, clenched his fist, and struck!
The force of his effort whipped up a rushing wind!
"Good one!"
Lu Sui still had enough attention and strength to spare for a word of praise.
As the little six-eared monkey grew increasingly lively, the stick of incense before the shrine had burned more than halfway down.
Not only had his day-and-night listening with the Earthly Hearing Chapter brought great progress, but he had also grown increasingly proficient with the Heavenly Sight Chapter, using it with ease.
Heiwa's punch came fiercely, but his strength had not been twisted into a single cord. In truth, it was strong on the outside and hollow within, faintly unsteady.
Lu Sui turned sideways at just the right moment to evade the fist, then raised an upright palm and lightly parried. Heiwa seemed to lose his balance and pitched forward!
"Your footing isn't steady enough. Your stance only reaches your legs, not your waist and hips. That leaves your power scattered and weak!"
Lu Sui reached out again, caught Heiwa by the shoulder, and pulled him back.
The clean, crisp move drew another round of cheers!
"Thank you for your guidance, young master!"
Heiwa spoke with complete sincerity.
These days, whenever the young master returned home and had time to spare, he volunteered to spar with him and exchange moves.
He had thought it would be an easy job, requiring nothing but flattery and bootlicking.
But after several days of taking Lu Sui's punches and kicks in earnest, he gradually became convinced and no longer underestimated him.
Despite the young master's rapid breakthroughs, his foundation was exceptionally solid. His lower body, waist, hips, and arms had full, powerful muscles that combined hardness and suppleness.
He even had considerable insight into training. A few casual pointers from him often benefited Heiwa greatly.
"Want to work for me?"
Lu Sui asked softly:
"I happen to need someone to run errands."
He often needed to visit the Hundred Victories Martial Arts School or other places.
Xiaotang and Xiaohuan were women, after all. Taking them into martial arts schools and restaurants was often inconvenient.
"I..."
Heiwa was about to agree at once, but suddenly stopped.
He first glanced at Dou Xiaowen in the wicker chair, then dropped to his knees with a thump.
"Master Dou, I'll remember your great kindness in teaching me for the rest of my life!
"Now I'd like to follow the young master, broaden my horizons, and learn skills. All I ask is your permission!"
By the end, his head was touching the ground, and he gave three heavy kowtows.
The courtyard fell silent for a moment.
In these times, rules carried great weight.
Heiwa's Subduing Tiger Stance had been taught to him by Dou Xiaowen.
They counted as master and disciple in name.
No matter how much Heiwa wanted to follow Lu Sui, he had to obtain Dou Xiaowen's consent.
"All right, get up."
Dou Xiaowen raised his pipe and tapped it against the wicker chair's armrest.
"It's your good fortune that the young master is willing to take you along. From now on, follow the rules and keep your eyes open when you work. If you dare slack off, you'll face the household's punishment!"
"Yes! I'll remember!"
Heiwa thanked him profusely, beside himself with joy.
The sight left the guards green with envy. They all marveled at Heiwa's quick wits-he had actually latched onto the young master's thigh ahead of them!
If Lu Sui had remained as he was before, knowing only how to listen to songs and watch plays, there would naturally have been nothing to say.
But now the young master had displayed extraordinary martial talent and was receiving more and more attention from the master. Who knew when he might become the true "young proprietor"!
When that day came, Heiwa would be an "old minister who followed the dragon," rising to heaven along with the chickens and dogs!
"Son of a bitch! Why didn't I think to light a fire under the young master's cold stove?"
"Damn it, how did Heiwa get such dogshit luck and beat us to currying favor..."
Feeling his "colleagues'" envious, jealous gazes, Heiwa could not help straightening his back, thoroughly pleased with himself.
Working for the young master certainly offered better prospects than being a guard on a fixed monthly wage.
"A few more good men, grab some clubs."
Lu Sui paid no attention to the guards' thoughts. Standing casually inside the circle, he said calmly:
"I want to fight ten!"
The night was dark, the autumn rain fine as silk.
Deng Yun walked through the rain, utterly unaware that he was soaked through.
With stumbling steps, he crossed the deserted street and turned into Great Peace Alley.
The alley was not very deep. There were seven or eight households in all, each with a respectable residence.
The Deng Family lived at the head of the alley. Above its two black-lacquered gates hung a plaque inscribed with "Deng Residence."
Two storm lanterns hung below it, flickering in the rain.
Deng Yun climbed the steps and raised his hand to knock.
The brass ring clanged against the thick wooden door.
An old servant hurried over with a lantern and drew back the bolt.
He poked his head out, saw Deng Yun, and hastily said:
"Young master, you're back! The master is waiting..."
Deng Yun paid him no heed, stepped over the threshold, and walked inside.
The endless threads of rain drifted down at a slant, as though weaving a vast net.
Deng Jin stood before the main hall, an outer robe draped over him and a candlestick in hand.
He stared coldly at his good-for-nothing son.
"You unfilial wretch! So you still know to come home!"
"Tell me, what fine deed did you do at the Hundred Victories Martial Arts School?!"
Deng Yun lowered his head and did not answer.
"I've worked myself to the bone running the shop to pay for your martial training, hoping you'd amount to something."
Deng Jin, his belly full of pent-up anger, had finally found somewhere to vent it. He burst into curses:
"And you? For some woman who doesn't even think anything of you, you nearly ruined the Deng Family's three generations of hard work!"
"Can we afford to provoke the Lu Family? Huh! What sort of man is Lu Yulin? Big Boss Zhou of the brokerage trade, Lord Ma of the carriage and shipping trade-which of them doesn't show him respect? Who's willing to offend him?"
"What are you competing with Young Master Lu for? Thank goodness you lost! If you'd won and hurt Young Master Lu, our shop would have to close tomorrow, leaving us to live on the northwest wind!"
After that tirade, Deng Jin finally felt some of his anger subside.
Seeing Deng Yun looking like a drowned rat, he could not help softening. His voice eased.
"Come with me to the Lu residence tomorrow. We'll go apologize together, father and son! And don't complain about losing face. Without my shop, how would you stay at the Hundred Victories Martial Arts School?
"Bowl after bowl of tonics, fish and meat at every meal, and those martial skills you've learned-all of it was bought with silver!"
The hall was silent. Only the patter of fine rain could be heard.
Deng Yun kept his head lowered without saying a word.
Deng Jin snapped:
"What, are you mute? Say something! If you want a woman that badly, I'll take you to Pleasure Alley myself to sleep with seven or eight! Help you forget that little bitch surnamed Bai sooner!"
Deng Yun slowly raised his head.
Clatter!
The candlestick fell, and the flame went out!
Cold wind wailed, swirling through the pitch-black hall.
Deng Jin's eyes widened with terror and disbelief.
"Yun'er... you, what's happened to you..."
Deng Yun's eyes were hollow, his face deathly pale, with scarcely a trace of blood in it.
His cheeks had sunk deep, his cheekbones jutted high, and his flesh clung tightly to his bones. He looked exactly like a dried corpse!
"Father... I'm fine... I'm very well..."
"Never... I've never felt this good before!"