Chapter 86: Recruitment (Part 3)

Inside the room, Kou Li had not stepped out for three days. He neither practiced his martial arts nor spoke with anyone, nor did he meditate or chant sutras like a monk or a Taoist. Yet, if anyone entered, they would immediately sense that the air inside was notably warmer than outside.

Throughout these three days, Kou Li had been using the force of his fists to contemplate his body. The methods of fighting and training complemented each other, though the latter was even more demanding. For him, his body’s four extremities had reached perfection, yet his techniques lagged behind.

Thus, he had to re-examine every part of his body, gradually probing the limits of his strength, his reactions, his flexibility—ensuring that the skills he had painstakingly honed could be translated into actual combat.

This reflection indeed yielded new insights, especially regarding the art of internal force.

With a mere thought, he pressed his palm lightly onto the tatami mat. He didn’t seem to exert much strength, yet the large mat shuddered violently—though the spot beneath his palm remained undisturbed, dozens of straw filaments at the edge suddenly burst forth.

“So that’s it. When breath is channeled into the bones and muscles and, through the flexing and twisting of the limbs and the contraction of muscles, generates force—that is the fundamental ‘whole force’ of all martial arts. The explosive power from the waist, using a twisting motion, is hard force, while the harmonious coordination of bones, muscles, and internal organs, concealed and active within the body, yet able to focus at will, that resilience is soft force.

“The so-called balance of hardness and softness in internal martial arts, and the ability to adapt to contact, this is what it truly means. With soft force, one can dissolve an opponent’s attack, sense their strength and intention, lead their force to nothing, borrow their strength, use lightness to control heaviness, then at the right moment, focus all power on a single point to end the fight in one move. This is the principle of overcoming the hard with the soft, as described in the ‘Essence of Fist Theory.’ To think that only now, after all this time, I’ve grasped this as a so-called master of internal martial arts. How slow-witted of me.”

Yet, for someone like Kou Li, who had never learned a set of internal martial arts, to comprehend the interplay of hardness and softness simply from the oral teachings of Young Master Huang and his own bodily experience—such a thing was unheard of.

To reach this level, one would normally need to have mastered the internal arts. In combat, it meant that foes who once required several moves to defeat could now be vanquished in a single stroke.

Masters of internal martial arts were notorious for overwhelming weaker opponents.

He slapped his hand again, and with a sharp sound, the “Togakushi Fish-line” blade flew from its rack into his hand. The blade was long and narrow, about four feet, its watery blue steel etched with beautiful grain like fish lines. Rotating the blade, he could see his reflection: his lips curled into a smile that looked almost strained, as if he were forcing something out.

There was something sinister about this blade.

Kou Li recalled that night, that decaying, childlike face.

Martial arts originally derived from the use of weapons; thus, a true martial artist could not be ignorant of sword, spear, staff, and blade—at worst, merely less skilled.

Could Kou Li wield a blade? Strictly speaking, he truly could—five forms: Explosive Blade, Twisting Blade, Gathering Blade, Snake Flick Blade, and Ocean Piercing Blade.

Well, these were in fact the five forces he’d comprehended through his “Bamboo Hand” technique. But this Bamboo Hand was not strictly a martial art, but rather a study of martial theory and force. By extending his force through the blade as an extension of his body, his martial arts became swordsmanship—no contradiction there.

“No matter if you are a treasured blade or a demon sword, if I take you to kill, you’ll be willing, won’t you?”

Kou Li muttered to himself, slowly sheathing the blade in its sharkskin scabbard. Perhaps it was a trick of the mind, but as the blade slid home, it seemed to emit a sound of satisfaction.

With the blade in hand, Kou Li glanced around the room. There was little to tidy up. After a moment’s hesitation, he took the bamboo hat, lowering its brim to shade his eyes. People said it was ill-omened to let others see your face when you went to kill.

Kou Li intended to slip away quietly, but to his surprise, Young Master Huang, who had been busy with social affairs, was already waiting for him on a small boat she had prepared.

Of course, there was still some lingering resentment in her gaze. Even though she was used to the debauchery of court and city, Young Master Huang could not be cordial to someone who had seen her naked. Still, she would not, like ordinary women, throw herself into a river or hang herself—circumstances had forced her hand, and the other party had no choice.

“Still planning to wade into these troubled waters?”

Kou Li nodded without explanation. He no longer cared about others’ opinions, as long as he could bear the consequences himself.

Seeing his resolve, Young Master Huang, knowing his temperament, gave up on further persuasion and only sighed. “If you survive, come to the official posthouse in Xia City. I’ll arrange a way out for you and your people.”

By “your people,” she meant the possible survivors among the disciples of the Scorched Body Hall.

Kou Li was about to refuse, but Young Master Huang interrupted, “I know you hate owing favors, so this isn’t a favor—it’s an exchange. The little girl you captured is called Shin’in Sakura, her Han name is Zhu Ying’er. She’s the granddaughter of the eighth-generation head of the Shin’in Ninja Assassins, Shin’in Guimaru, and the daughter of Lady Ying, Zhu Baozai’s second wife. The pirate chief dotes on her. She’s worth the price.”

Only then did Kou Li nod his agreement.

Young Master Huang continued, “A few more words of advice, take them or leave them: First, don’t trust anyone in the martial hall. Second, don’t trust the authorities. Third, don’t trust anyone in the Guangdong Trading Guild. The underworld bounty has been issued—even we, who are involved, don’t know how many people will come after you. No matter how high your skills, be cautious.”

Kou Li finally spoke in a low voice, “Thank you.”

Young Master Huang hesitated, then couldn’t help but ask, “Even if you’re obsessed with martial arts, indifferent to wealth, power, or beauty, what I can offer is still better than what Master Lin Xian can give. As long as you’re willing—”

Kou Li finally smiled. “Are you trying to seduce me with beauty?”

Young Master Huang gritted her teeth so hard it sounded like crunching bones. “Should I summon all the courtesans of Jiangnan to serve you?”

“I was born not to have a master over my head,” Kou Li replied, bending to row the small boat ashore without looking back. “If I survive, perhaps we can continue to do business.”

“So you mean to sell your loyalty to the highest bidder? If someone offers more, you’d betray me without a thought,” Young Master Huang sneered.

“I’m a man of my word. Besides, who else has a finer backside than you? If you die, there’ll be nothing left to admire.”

“You bastard, one day I’ll have your entire clan executed!” Young Master Huang blushed furiously, gritting her teeth, then finally sighed, “Such an interesting man—don’t you dare die.”

Not far away, Xu Kaishan, who had been keeping watch, approached with difficulty. “Miss, why didn’t you tell him the truth?”

“Tell him what? That Master Lin Xian failed to get help outside, and was trapped beyond Lingnan by the heads of Wu Xiang Hall and the Che Family Boxing School? That Luo Yanzong is badly wounded and being hunted by Blood Pole assassins? That some in the Scorched Body Hall have already sold themselves out? It’s useless. He’s not going back for those people.”

“Then why is he returning if not to save them?” Xu Kaishan was thoroughly puzzled.

“Ninth Uncle once said that people like him act in accordance with their own hearts, perhaps seeking clarity in their own thoughts,” Young Master Huang replied softly.

…

Meanwhile, on the original deserted island, after nearly a month of burning, the flames finally began to subside. From above, one could see vast swaths of scorched earth and ruins, with only a few wisps of smoke drifting skyward.

By the stream, the strange trees, despite their magical protections, had lost many branches to the smoke and fire. The unripe jade-green fruits had lost all vitality.

A flash of black light, and the phantom of a beautiful woman in her forties appeared. Seeing the devastation, her face twisted with rage and horror. “What happened? How could the jade fruits be lost? The hundred-year seal is nearly over; four fruits should have ripened, just in time to delay my body’s aging. Damn it! Who stole my fruit and killed my serpents? I won’t let them go. Once the mortal world settles and I am reborn, I’ll cook that little thief alive. Damn it!”

As she spoke, her features rapidly aged, wrinkles and liver spots appearing, her figure stooping, until some unseen force crushed her and she exploded into fragments of smoke and dust.

…

From the harbor to the tidal flats, the way was not by official road or mountain path, but by river. At the end of the river stood an ancient wine house, the Bai Family Tavern, with its grand beams and antique charm, famed for wine that never watered down and meat served in generous portions. It was a haunt for riverboat captains and footmen alike, but today, it welcomed a very different set of guests.