A Pillar in Midstream, Wind Rises and Water Surges

Once the agreement was made, Stronghold Chief Wu seemed even more jovial.

At the evening gathering of song and dance, neither side mentioned the Rainbow Cloud Flute again. They simply rested and enjoyed themselves to their hearts' content.

The fervent dancing around the bonfire and the ringing songs of men and women lit up half the night sky.

Chu Tianshu concentrated on eating, chewing his way through one grilled fish after another. He alternated between boned fish and fish with the bones still in, changing the texture with each.

Some of the young women in the stronghold had noticed that he was the youngest of his group and had a gentle, refined bearing. They had been eager to pull him into the dancing.

But once he started eating, anyone who saw him wondered whether he had been starving for too long, and felt embarrassed to disturb him.

Wu Tugu, however, was even more pleased by the sight. Hugging a wine jar, he sat down beside him.

"Fine fellow, I can't speak for the other two trials, but you'll definitely be the one competing against me in mine."

Wu Tugu also grabbed a grilled fish a little longer than an adult's palm and stuffed it into his mouth in two bites. Smacking his lips, he said, "The three trials our ancestors left us are also performed every New Year."

"But at those times, there's never anyone from outside to compete with me. Nobody in the stronghold is my match, and I'm sick of competing with them."

Chu Tianshu ground his back teeth, crushing the fish bones, and said with a smile, "In that case, we'll have a contest tomorrow. Don't get too drunk, or you'll blame your loss on not having sobered up."

Wu Tugu glared at him. "You really are arrogant. But my trial won't come up tomorrow."

"Tomorrow's first trial is called Pillar in Midstream. Zewa should be in charge of it."

Chu Tianshu pondered. "Pillar in Midstream? Going by the name, do you stand in a river or under a waterfall and let the water beat against you, then see who can hold out longer?"

"Hahaha, it's not just that. They should be getting ready now. I'll take you to have a look."

Wu Tugu braced a hand on the table and rose like a house.

When Chu Tianshu stood up, his head barely reached Wu Tugu's chest. Unaccustomed to being so close, he waited until Wu Tugu had taken a few steps before following.

The two went around the foot of the mountain and arrived halfway up its other side.

This place was not far from the stronghold. There were no tall stands of bamboo or trees, only some tree roots that were difficult to dig out, along with a broad stretch of grass.

A river five or six meters wide rushed down from the mountaintop. Its water looked clear, and the stones on the riverbed were visible.

Wu Zewa was there with a group of people, making preparations.

They brought in large quantities of green moso bamboo from farther away and chopped it into lengths of three or four feet. They cut openings at the joints, poured in some gravel and soil, then plugged the openings with blocks of wood.

Ordinarily, moso bamboo would float on the surface when placed in water, but with the soil and stones inside, it hovered between sinking and floating.

In other words, if carefully laid flat on the water, it could float on the surface.

But if even a little force was applied, or its direction was slightly off, it might temporarily sink beneath the water and be carried downstream. Even after it was swept to the foot of the mountain, it might never resurface.

Wu Zewa and the others were experimenting repeatedly, determining how much soil and stone to put inside.

The river flowed swiftly.

Chu Tianshu watched the moso bamboo bobbing between the surface and the depths, gradually accelerating after entering the water until it shot down the mountain like bolts from a crossbow. His heart gave a slight jolt.

"So this is..."

The next morning, the sun shone overhead.

"This is the first trial."

"Ten thousand arrows rush downstream; the brave stand as pillars in midstream!"

Stronghold Chief Wu brought a large crowd to the riverbank and briefly explained that the three trials were to be held. Then he made a loud announcement.

"Zewa, first show our guests the power of the first trial."

Wu Zewa directed the people beside him to tie long ropes around the necks of several burlap sacks filled with soil and gravel, then throw them into the river.

Apart from its swift current, the river was not very deep.

After the sacks were thrown in, parts of them remained above the surface, just like a fat man standing in the water.

Upstream, someone released more than a dozen lengths of moso bamboo. They accelerated with the current, bobbing up and down and moving faster and faster.

At first, everyone could clearly see the bamboo being released into the water. By the time it reached the last dozen or so meters, they could barely make out how many lengths were shooting toward them.

Thud! Thud, thud, thud!!!

The bamboo tips plunged deep into the sacks, and muddy water spread from the holes.

Everyone immediately pulled on the ropes and dragged the sacks ashore.

The bamboo had buried itself a good half a foot into the sacks. The sight made people imagine what it would be like if it had struck a person instead, and a chill ran down their spines.

Chu Tianshu had already seen it the night before, so he remained calm.

Old Yu, however, could not help looking grave. In a low voice, he said, "The ones on the surface are manageable, but those lengths of bamboo stabbing in from underwater are dangerous!"

After spending this time traveling together, Chu Tianshu had learned that Old Yu's real name was Yu Zhi. In his younger years, he had been a wandering swordsman of some renown.

But his right arm had been severed. His present right arm was actually a wooden prosthesis.

A saber was hidden inside the prosthesis, with the wooden hand serving as its hilt. When necessary, he would grip his "right hand" with his left and draw a saber straight from his "right arm." His killing techniques were fierce and not to be underestimated.

But his body was unbalanced, after all, and fighting in water like this would be extremely unfavorable for him.

Little Huo, meanwhile, was a gunman named Huo Ming. He had a military background, and while furthering his studies at the Military Academy, he had gained an insight into fist techniques. Only after excelling in his examinations had he become Cai Shanjun's bodyguard. His gun skills and marksmanship had continued to improve and were quite formidable.

When fully equipped, he carried eight fine guns hidden about his person and a suitcase full of magazines. But now, only the two guns in the holsters beneath his arms still had full loads of ammunition.

Faced with the Pillar in Midstream trial, he too had fine lines between his brows. He pressed his lips together and said nothing.

"Once this trial begins, three hundred lengths of bamboo like these will be released in batches upstream. The challenger must stand on the stretch of riverbed before us and avoid being struck from beginning to end."

"But that's only the requirement for the usual year-end performances. Now that we're competing to determine a winner, it would be hard to tell who was better if neither side got hurt, so we have to add one more rule."

Stronghold Chief Wu pointed downstream and continued his explanation.

"We've stretched five large hemp-rope nets across the river downstream, with progressively finer mesh, to catch the bamboo swept down from upstream."

"The challenger carries no weapons and uses only their hands and feet. While avoiding injury, they must split or break the bamboo. Afterward, the people downstream will fish it out, sort the broken bamboo from the intact, and count how many lengths the challenger dealt with."

Chu Tianshu's gaze flickered. He had not heard about this part yesterday.

Breaking bamboo on the surface of the water was harder than breaking it on shore.

With a single blow, the bamboo would sway, and the current would dissipate the force.

To hit the bamboo underwater, one first had to drive a fist through the flowing water, and the loss of force was considerable.

The clanspeople had seen these performances at previous New Year celebrations and had thought nothing unusual of them. But when they heard that a rule had been added, they began chattering. Heads crowded together as many tried to squeeze their way to the front.

Others could not get through, so they went around the sides of the crowd and spread out along the banks upstream and downstream, craning their necks in anticipation.

Wu Zewa walked over to Cai Shanjun and saluted. "Benefactor, I admire you, but these three trials are being held under the witness of Cave God Lady and our ancestors. I will do my utmost."

Cai Shanjun said only, "Of course you should do your utmost. That bamboo really is dangerous, so you must be careful too."

Wu Zewa raised his brows and could not help smiling. "All right!"

He turned, removed his shirt, trousers, and shoes, and walked into the water. He unwound the hemp ropes wrapped around his forearms and tossed them onto the bank.

As soon as his bare feet stepped onto the stones, the clear, shimmering water washed constantly over the fine hair on his calves.

When Wu Zewa reached the middle of the river, the water came up to his chest, and the current actually splashed white against it.

It made the swiftness of the river all the more apparent!

Wu Zewa breathed deeply and rose slightly onto his toes several times. Only then did he sink his weight and plant himself firmly. Raising an arm, he shouted upstream, "Release!"

Batches of green bamboo entered the water upstream.

On the rippling surface, flashes of green appeared and vanished, moving faster and faster.

Though he was their opponent, Chu Tianshu and the others grew a little more anxious for the man in the river.

The clanspeople on the bank fell silent as well. They watched with rapt attention, making not the slightest sound for fear of disturbing Wu Zewa.

Splash!!

Wu Zewa's arm suddenly chopped into the water.

White-crested waves burst and splashed around his body, racing over one another with a succession of crisp sounds.

He knocked the bamboo aside and broke it, one length after another.

Amid the spray, splintered pieces of bamboo even flew onto the bank, and those standing too close hurriedly dodged.

Chu Tianshu turned his hand over and flicked a bamboo splinter away in front of his cheek with a fingernail. His gaze remained fixed, and he did not yield an inch.

He could see that Wu Zewa was not using fists or palms against the bamboo. Instead, he held his hands in a shape like that used in snake fist.

When hands held like that stabbed into the water, bubbles surged and burst, even producing a whistling sound like a bamboo whistle blown underwater.

For Wu Zewa, the resistance of the flowing water was not as heavy as one might have imagined.

His arms flickered like venomous snakes one moment, then stabbed into the water like a waterbird catching prey the next.

This fist art could probably only develop its true character through training specifically in the water.

A little while later, no more bamboo came floating down from upstream.

And downstream, besides the intact bamboo, a great many splinters spread across the surface.

The clanspeople responsible for retrieving it downstream began hauling in the nets and counting.

Chu Tianshu closed his eyes, pinched the bridge of his nose, and said, "One hundred and forty-four!"

After a while, the clanspeople over there called out the count. Excluding the intact ones, there were indeed one hundred and forty-four broken lengths of bamboo.

Of the three hundred floating bamboo arrows, less than half appeared to have been broken, but even Chu Tianshu felt considerable pressure.

The river was fairly wide, after all. It was not that Wu Zewa could not break the bamboo that had gotten past him, but that he had no chance to touch it.

A person's reach was only so wide. While busy breaking the bamboo on one side, one inevitably could not stop the bamboo on the other side of the river.

Wu Zewa walked to the bank, both hands red. He hurriedly picked up the hemp ropes and bound his forearms tightly, looking quite accustomed to this kind of training.

Stronghold Chief Wu was also pleased that he had developed such skill. He asked Cai Shanjun, "Who's coming from your side?"

Chu Tianshu was just about to move when Zhong Jinqiu stepped forward. "Let me."

Chu Tianshu said in surprise, "Uncle Zhong, your hand hasn't fully healed."

Zhong Jinqiu took out a piece of dried radish and worked his jaws a couple of times. "Have you forgotten what I practice?"

Chu Tianshu's gaze flickered, and he looked at Cai Shanjun.

Cai Shanjun merely smiled. "Could what I've learned about you in these few days compare with what you know about yourselves?"

Chu Tianshu patted Zhong Jinqiu on the shoulder. "Then give it a try, Uncle Zhong. But take it easy."

Chewing his dried radish, Zhong Jinqiu silently walked into the water. He removed neither his shirt nor his trousers, merely folding his sleeves up his forearms a few times.

The people of Wu Clan Stronghold were puzzled to see him enter the water like that. Some kindly called out for him to be careful, warning that clothes weighed a thousand pounds in the water and were no joke.

A layer of clothing and trousers could not stop the bamboo. It could only be a hindrance, not a help.

Zhong Jinqiu glanced at them and gave a faint, indifferent smile. Then he shouted upstream, "Release!"

Stronghold Chief Wu raised his voice and repeated the command, and the people on the bank immediately fell silent.

As soon as the bamboo upstream entered the water, Zhong Jinqiu spread his feet where he stood and turned slightly. He actually began practicing his fists in the water.

In the opening stance, lazily tuck the robe left and right; push with both hands and draw into single whip. Raise the hands, look into the empty sky; the white crane spreads its wings and flies heavenward.

Step forward and first strike with a palm to the face; deflect, parry, and punch at the chest. Press forward as if sealing, as if closing; withdraw, embrace the tiger, and push the mountain...

Zhong Jinqiu did not move quickly. His limbs stretched out and his body rose and fell, his head even dipping beneath the surface at times. Everyone watched in bewilderment, their hearts in their throats for him.

Suddenly, a flash of green reached his side.

The floating bamboo came like an arrow, but a lift of his palm swept it askew across the surface. It drifted to the side and blocked two lengths behind it, producing sharp smacks.

A great mass of bamboo shot toward him in succession, but all that could be heard was an endless series of bangs and smacks.

Batch after batch of bamboo struck toward the sides, crossing one another and moving with the current until they actually formed a circle around Zhong Jinqiu.

Once the circle took shape, everyone could see that the water level around Zhong Jinqiu seemed slightly lower than elsewhere.

As he moved back and forth practicing his fists, he had actually created a whirlpool in the river.

His Cloud Hands fistwork guarded his entire body, while the movements of his legs and feet underwater could also deflect the bamboo.

The second batch had already shot down and struck the ring of bamboo, only to swell its numbers.

Zhong Jinqiu did not try to break the current, nor did he chase after the bamboo.

He simply moved with the flow. His Cloud Hands brushed, pressed, turned, and drew the bamboo along, making the whirlpool more pronounced. When the force of the upstream current reached it, it pushed the heavy whirlpool of bamboo onward, keeping it spinning.

The great mass of bamboo turned and rubbed together, making a tremendous clattering sound.

"Thus, use emptiness to control substance, softness to overcome hardness, slowness to defeat speed..."

His waist and abdomen vibrating, Zhong Jinqiu recited in a clear voice. He stepped through yin and yang in the water, executing the Cloud Hands method with his fists.

Every length of bamboo that rose to the surface was struck by a light pat of his palm.

The openings plugged with wooden blocks suddenly burst apart. Cracks ran straight from the openings through both ends, splitting the bamboo in two and spilling the soil and stones into the water.

The clear water rushing down from upstream met the green whirlpool here, and the river turned from clear to muddy.

A blue-clad martial artist stood in the whirlpool, his fistwork growing smoother and smoother, flowing like clouds and running water, falling naturally into place.

A long while later, at least four or five times as long as Wu Zewa had taken, the bamboo was still circling in that stretch of river.

Zhong Jinqiu suddenly leaped, planted a foot on the bamboo splinters crowding the surface, and actually used them to spring onto the bank.

The whirlpool immediately lost its shape and rapidly collapsed, sending a great mass of bamboo splinters surging downstream with a roar.

Zhong Jinqiu slowly turned around. White vapor rose from his forehead, and though he was soaked through, everyone could see that sweat was pouring off him. He brought both hands into the closing stance.

"Cloud Hands borrows momentum; wind rises and water surges."

"And thus comes Taiji!"

For a moment, the people on the bank were utterly silent.

Chu Tianshu could no longer hide his smile. He raised his left hand, extending his thumb, forefinger, and middle finger, and spoke in a ringing voice.

"Uncle Zhong's count: three hundred!"