The acrid smoke of firecrackers mingled with the aroma of the New Year’s Eve feast, drifting through the streets and alleys of Wufeng County. In the small courtyard of the Meng family, the laughter and merriment gradually died down.
Granny Wang’s family, tipsy and satisfied, took their leave. Lady Bai carried the already fast-asleep Meng Yanqing back into the inner room.
Meng Xihong stood alone in the courtyard, gazing at the lingering sparks in the night sky. The ripples stirred in his heart by the immortal official had yet to fully settle.
To live for ages, to stride through the air… Such bearing made one’s heart yearn for it.
“Cultivating immortality… fortune, affinity, and innate aptitude…” he murmured. His fingertips unconsciously traced through the empty air, as though trying to grasp that illusory thread of immortal opportunity.
But before long, he drew his thoughts back. His gaze once again became firm and practical.
“A road must be walked one step at a time.” He took a deep breath of the cold, clear air, feeling the blood and qi in his body growing more vigorous by the day thanks to his [Martial Dao Aptitude].
“For now, the Martial Dao is the foundation by which I establish myself and protect my wife and child!”
After the New Year passed, life returned to its usual course. The seasons turned. The withered branches outside the window had long since sprouted fresh buds, then gradually thickened into dense shade. The cicadas’ cries grew from faint to loud, then quietly faded away again.
Before he knew it, six and a half months had slipped by since the day the immortal official descended and left that startling glimpse in the courtyard.
Meng Xihong still reported to the county yamen every day, but his state of mind was already different.
With his [Martial Dao Aptitude], his understanding of martial arts advanced by leaps and bounds.
The set of “Long Fist” he had practiced for several months had long since been transformed in his hands.
Each move and stance was no longer merely a routine, but had fused with a profound understanding of how force circulated.
He devoted more of his energy to studying “hidden force.”
The experience Wang Hai had taught him in shaking people down had indeed allowed him to save a modest sum and relieve the pressure of household expenses, but he knew very well that in this world, only one’s own strength was a true reliance.
Money was an external thing. Fists were the hard truth.
Still, while money was not omnipotent, without money, nothing could be done. The Meng family’s future development and my own cultivation both cannot do without money and resources.
Shaking people down is not a long-term solution. It seems I’ll have to find another way.
[One Divination a Day. Today’s hexagram: Moderately Auspicious. Undercurrents surge beneath the waves. It is best to counter movement with stillness. Fortune is middling; avoid rash advances and forcing matters.]
Seeing this somewhat vague prompt, Meng Xihong’s heart tightened slightly, though his expression did not change.
As usual, after completing his daily patrol duties at the yamen, he politely declined his colleagues’ invitation to go to the tavern and headed straight home.
In the courtyard, he took off his dark constable’s uniform and wore only a single layer of clothing.
His gaze fell on the newly replaced solid hardwood stake in the corner of the courtyard, thicker and tougher than before. The stake was made of ironwood, so hard that ordinary blades and axes could hardly split it with ease.
He focused his mind, stilled his qi, and cast aside all distracting thoughts.
In his mind, the eighteen forms of “Long Fist” were rapidly dismantled and recombined. The pathways by which his blood and qi moved, the subtle trembling of his muscle fibers—all were analyzed and reconstructed with incomparable clarity under the support of his [Martial Dao Aptitude]. More than half a year of bitter practice and comprehension gathered together at this moment.
He no longer pursued the outward hardness and ferocity of the techniques. Instead, he sank his intent into his body, sensing the deeper, more penetrating power hidden beneath his sinews, bones, skin, and membranes.
Inhale—exhale—
His breathing became long and rhythmic, his chest rising and falling faintly with each breath.
His right fist slowly lifted. It was not the posture of someone gathering strength for a fierce blow; rather, he pressed it gently toward the surface of the wooden stake, as if caressing the strings of a zither.
Before his knuckles even arrived, an invisible pressure had already made the grain on the stake’s surface sink in slightly.
At the very instant his fist was about to touch the stake!
Meng Xihong’s gaze suddenly sharpened. His waist and hips turned slightly like a millstone, his spine arched like a great dragon, and the power of his entire body did not erupt from his arm. Instead, it surged up from the Yongquan points beneath his feet, piercing through joint by joint, passing through his legs, waist, and back before finally condensing at a single point on his fist!
Buzz!
A muffled sound, so low it was almost inaudible, came from within the wooden stake!
Meng Xihong’s fist stopped steadily against the surface of the stake without leaving even the faintest white mark.
Yet he slowly withdrew his fist.
Crack… crack-crack-crack…
A dense, continuous sound like ice splintering rang out from inside the wooden stake!
Under Meng Xihong’s gaze, that incomparably hard ironwood stake, with the fist mark as its center, had its internal structure instantly covered in spiderweb-like cracks, as though it had been repeatedly hammered from within by an invisible giant mallet!
Immediately after, the entire wooden stake seemed to lose all support. With a crash, it collapsed and shattered from the inside, turning into a ground full of splinters the size of fingers!
“Hiss…” Lady Bai, who was holding Meng Yanqing and watching from the side, sucked in a breath. Her beautiful eyes widened as she stared in disbelief at the mess on the ground.
Though she did not understand martial arts, she knew this was absolutely not something an ordinary constable could do!
The one-and-a-half-year-old Meng Yanqing in her arms seemed to sense his mother’s astonishment as well, babbling and waving his little hands.
Meng Xihong slowly exhaled a long breath of white mist. Brilliant light shone in his eyes, and at last, a carefree and confident smile appeared on his face.
Hidden force! True hidden force!
Force penetrating through the body, destroying objects through an obstruction!
This was absolutely not merely cracking the surface of the wooden stake, but destroying it completely from within!
This marked that his mastery of hidden force had already crossed the threshold and truly entered the ranks of second-rate martial artists!
Looking across the entire Wufeng County yamen, aside from Head Constable Wang Hai, who might have touched this threshold, there was no one else!
“Husband… this…” Lady Bai approached with the child in her arms. Her voice carried incredulous delight, along with a faint awe toward this unknown power.
Meng Xihong restrained his aura and returned to calm. Smiling, he took his son from Lady Bai’s arms and rubbed his chin against the little fellow’s soft cheek. “It’s nothing. I just made a small breakthrough in my practice. Did I frighten you?”
Lady Bai shook her head, her eyes full of pride. “I knew my husband was no common man.”
The joy of his breakthrough and the support of his family filled Meng Xihong’s heart with warmth.
Early the next morning, Meng Xihong performed his daily divination for himself as usual, but this hexagram made his brows draw together slightly:
[One Divination a Day. Today’s hexagram: Minor Omen. Bloodshed looms faintly; killing qi lies to the southeast. It is best to borrow the momentum of events and find safety among the many. Fortune is excellent; avoid braving danger alone.]
“Southeast… bloodshed?”
The southeast was precisely the direction of the main road from Wufeng County to the neighboring county and Yunzhou Prefecture. It was also the route most often taken by the county’s merchant caravans and escort agencies.
Meng Xihong suppressed the doubt in his heart and headed to the county yamen to begin the day’s work.
However, the moment he stepped into the yamen, Meng Xihong sensed that the atmosphere was wrong.
His colleagues, who were usually idle and joking around, were now gathered together with grave expressions, discussing something in low voices.
Head Constable Wang Hai’s face was even ashen, the veins at his temples throbbing as he growled at several constables in a low voice.
“Useless! All of you are useless! So many men, and you couldn’t even catch a shadow? You even let Old Zhao lose an arm!”
“Head Constable… that bastard was too hard to handle! He was as fast as a ghost, and his attacks were vicious and ruthless. Before the brothers could even get a clear look, Old Zhao was already…” A constable spoke with a bitter expression, bloodstains still on his arm.
“That’s right, Head Constable. That fellow is definitely a desperado from the jianghu who committed some crime and fled here! His martial skill is probably no lower than second-rate! We…”
“Second-rate?” Wang Hai slammed the table, making the teacups jump.
“So what if he’s second-rate? This is Wufeng County! Our territory! If he dares run wild here, killing people and robbing goods, then he’s slapping all of us brothers in the face! Slapping the county magistrate in the face!”
Meng Xihong’s heart stirred, and he quickly stepped forward. “Head Constable, what happened?”
When Wang Hai saw Meng Xihong, his anger subsided slightly, though his expression remained ugly. “Xihong, you came at just the right time! Last night, at Heifeng Hollow thirty li south of the city, something happened again!”
“Heifeng Hollow?” Meng Xihong’s heart tightened. That place was mountainous, densely forested, and perilous in terrain. It was an old haunt for bandits robbing travelers on the road.
He thought of today’s divination—“killing qi lies to the southeast,” “bloodshed looms faintly.”