Chapter Twenty-Six: The Battery

Through the haze, the outline of the coastline was still visible, but the surging sea now appeared only as a stark contour, with three ships anchored offshore—unmoving, mere black dots against the vast expanse.

“Can you let me go now?” The Young Lady Huang’s voice was cold as frost. If she could exchange an arm for her adversary’s life, she would not hesitate for a moment.

Kou Li glanced around, wary, before finally releasing her. Their arms parted like conjoined twins being separated at last.

They had maintained this ambiguous posture for a full hour.

There was no other choice. If that pale-faced youth hadn’t intervened at the last moment, exposing the archer hiding above, he might truly have been deceived by that Wolf Lord. All his attention had been fixed on the opponent’s crossbow.

Had the Wolf Lord succeeded, Kou Li knew his chances of survival would have been slim. Though he had disguised himself with a blackened face and unkempt hair, he couldn’t shake the feeling that the Water Dragon Gang would uncover his identity eventually. He and the Wolf Lord were bound to cross paths again.

A single defeat meant nothing to the Wolf Lord—but for Kou Li, one loss would spell certain death.

The Young Lady Huang said nothing, turning on her heel to leave.

“Wait!” Kou Li called out.

“What now? Are you going to break your promise, or do you want to know my identity?” Her lips curled in a mocking smile, and despite her bruised and swollen face, traces of her once-stunning beauty remained.

Kou Li shook his head. “The more one knows, the more trouble follows. I’ve already brought enough trouble upon myself by crossing you. If I can delay it a day, I will.”

She shot him a cold glare, her eyes full of anger, shame, murderous intent, and discontent—all tangled together. “I hope you can stay hidden a day longer. But I won’t let you off easily.”

“I hope so too,” Kou Li replied earnestly. If killing her could solve his problems, he would do so without remorse. But that was impossible, and given her status, he could not afford the consequences of her death.

“In return for keeping my promise, give me three months. After that, you can do whatever you like to me. How about it?”

“Three months? You’re planning to run!” Young Lady Huang sneered, the movement pulling at her swollen eyes and lending a touch of absurdity to her otherwise cold demeanor.

“Run? No. Perhaps by then, you won’t be able to kill me,” Kou Li shrugged.

“Tell me your name—your real name. Perhaps then I’ll consider it,” she taunted, raising her elegant neck.

What kind of kidnapper reveals his true name to the victim? In her heart, it was impossible, as unthinkable as giving up her own vengeance.

“My name is Kou Li.”

She had already been about to leave, but at those words, she paused, a flicker of surprise crossing her face. The name Kou Li sounded familiar; it reminded her of a certain intriguing scholar.

A scholar and the kidnapper before her shared the same name?

She refused to believe they were the same person, but after a moment’s hesitation, she couldn’t help but ask, “Where are you from?”

“Qingshui Village, Baima County, Jiangning Prefecture. That’s where I was born,” Kou Li answered without hesitation.

He spoke truthfully; after all, even if he told her, there was nothing she could use against him. His so-called mother had long since disappeared, and his kin had all been slaughtered. What could she possibly do to him?

“If you’re telling the truth, I’ll consider it.”

Kou Li smacked his lips. The look in her eyes as she left was peculiar—still full of hatred and anger, but now with something more, something unfathomable.

He didn’t care to dwell on it—women’s hearts were unfathomable anyway. Shaking his head, he turned his gaze ten paces away, to the base of a tree, where a few drops of blood stained the muddy ground, accompanied by the faint sound of breathing.

How coincidental—to run into a fellow practitioner here, most likely the one-armed thief who escaped from the ship.

He shook his head and walked away. Kidnapping was a one-time business for him; there was no need to exchange notes with this colleague, especially since the other’s reputation for danger rivaled even that of the Wolf Lord.

In the Martial Arts Hall—

“Senior Brother, why are you so down today?” Shrimp Head asked, concerned. “Don’t worry, Eighth Brother will come back. Senior Brother sent people to look for him.”

“But Kou Brother said he’d be back in a few days at most,” Zheng Bao’er pouted, her eyes reddening.

“That’s why you need to work even harder. These last two months, someone’s been itching to cause you trouble,” Shrimp Head whispered.

“That shrimp-paste brat, who gave you the guts to talk nonsense? Who in the hall doesn’t respect our genius little junior?” came a lazy, arrogant voice.

“When it comes to talent, who can match Brother Tian Sheng? One month on the child’s stake, one month on the hard stake—he’s already learning forms. Didn’t Senior Brother Lu say that if the other doesn’t return, you’ll take his place?” Jiang Shuiyuan chimed in flatteringly.

“Of course! Tian Sheng is the most gifted of our Dragonhouse, with Brother Xiong teaching him. He’s leagues above those street fighters.”

“Even the Che family’s fighters wanted to recruit him, but because of Brother Xiong, he joined our hall.”

“In any case, Master Lin has returned to Guangdong. Taking on new disciples is only a matter of time.”

Among the dozens in the hall, more than a dozen looked particularly sturdy and fierce, their bodies bearing tattoos of fish-monsters—these were the Guangzhou Dragonhouse men.

They clustered around a youth, his hair braided, sea-beast tattoos on both cheeks, the scales vivid and wild. Though young, he exuded an untamed ferocity.

Lu Tiansheng said nothing, but stared at Zheng Bao’er with open provocation—his eyes brimming with menace.

“I heard that Kou Li doesn’t know a lick of martial arts, yet loves to lecture others on stances. Clearly a fool!”

“Kou Senior Brother isn’t a fool—he always said he was gifted,” Jiang Shuiyuan replied, his tone teasing.

“A fool indeed. He’s probably already been hacked to death somewhere!” Lu Tiansheng sneered.

The Dragonhouse men echoed him—fierce boat-dwellers who stuck together outside. The other apprentices, all poor fishermen’s sons, dared not speak up.

With the teachers and inner disciples away, the Dragonhouse men’s authority—won with their fists—was unquestioned.

Just then, someone stepped in front of them. A round-faced youth, cheeks flushed, fists clenched like an angry little bull.

“Kou Brother isn’t a fool—you are! Your whole family are fools!”

...

“Finally back,” Kou Li muttered as he approached the door frame of the martial hall, made from stripped timber. He breathed a little easier. How was Bao’er? And how would he explain to Luo Yanzong? He had taken a few days’ leave and disappeared for two months—no kidney remedy would take that long.

But as soon as he returned, he sensed something amiss. The apprentices whispered, casting him odd looks—pity, surprise, schadenfreude.

Had something happened in the hall?

Or to Zheng Bao’er?

His eyelids drooped, heavy with foreboding, like a tiger before it pounces—sluggish, but ready to strike.

When one’s martial arts reached a certain point, even gestures bore traces of their style. Tiger Fist, after all, exuded a tiger’s aura.

“Kou Senior Brother, over here!” Shrimp Head, face swollen like a pig’s head, waved eagerly from the corner.

Inside, Kou Li found Zheng Bao’er lying on the bed, fresh cuts on her face. The worst wound was to her head—amid the chaos, someone had struck her, and she still hadn’t woken.

Nearby, Ma Yuan from the junior group rubbed his bruised chin, grimacing. Tan Yu was worse off—a broken rib kept him groaning on a straw mat. Only Wang Shennu, the taciturn descendant of Kunlun slaves, seemed unscathed, relying on his raw strength.

The atmosphere was grim. Since the hall opened, there had never been such a vicious brawl, and with the senior members away, no one knew what to do.

“That idiot—just because he’s trained since childhood. Damn him for putting on airs! If I’d known, I’d have hit him a few more times,” Ma Yuan grumbled, face twitching with indignation.

“You all showed real loyalty. Thank you,” Kou Li said, sweeping his gaze over them. According to Shrimp Head, when the fight broke out, the four juniors—Ma Yuan, Tan Yu, Shrimp Head, and Wang Shennu—were the first to rush in.

Without them, Zheng Bao’er would’ve been in worse shape at the hands of the Xu family brats.

“Eighth Brother promised to teach me stances,” Shrimp Head mumbled, rubbing his swollen cheek.

“I just can’t stand that Lu kid,” Ma Yuan said, stiffly.

“I went to break up the fight,” Tan Yu managed a wry smile, though he was the most badly hurt—broken bones would need months to heal.

“Heh,” Wang Shennu smiled foolishly, saying nothing.

“Where’s Lu Tiansheng now?” Kou Li tapped his nails, as if claws might spring from his fingers.

“Made trouble like that—of course he ran. You think he’d stick around?” The door creaked open and Jiang Shuiyuan entered, smiling.

“Hmph!” The boys, simple-hearted as they were, looked at him coldly—fair-weather friends had no place now. He’d always hung around Lu Tiansheng.

“Hey, don’t look at me like that. If I hadn’t called the best doctor right away, would you still have the strength to glare at me?” Jiang Shuiyuan shrugged. “Lu Tiansheng’s a firecracker—he’s boss as long as the sky’s above. If I didn’t humor him, he’d have blown himself up already.”

“If Little Uncle hadn’t drawn that lightning, I’d have succeeded by now. My heart’s always been with you guys, you know.”