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BANDITS: LEGEND OF FEI (Book 1, Chapter 16)

Book 1: Wanderings of Youth / Chapter 16 – Training

“Those Lis may seem like worldly affairs don’t concern them, but they’re actually
obsessed with martial arts. And they don’t even know that they’re obsessed.”

“My Lord!” One of the Big Dipper’s black-clad men reined his horse up before Shen Tianshu, dismounting
and then kneeling as he said: “Lord Mizar scoured that valley but found no trace of Mu Xiaoqiao. He
wants to know what we should do next.”

Shen Tianshu shut his eyes for a second. Then he said: “We’re setting off immediately. We’ll link up with
Mizar’s team in Yueyang City!”

One of his men said gingerly: “My Lord, what about Lord Phecda…”

Shen Tianshu gave him an icy look that sent a chill down his spine, and he quickly fell silent.

“Lord Phecda?” Shen Tianshu said, his words dripping with sarcasm. He chuckled coldly. “If someone of
his calibre is considered my equal, it is no wonder that the world despises me.”

These words seemed to disparage both himself and Phecda. Saying ‘Yes, my Lord’ to this didn’t seem
quite right, so his men stayed silent, exchanging nervous looks amongst themselves.

Looking at these men cowering obsequiously before him, Shen Tianshu thought with irritation that all of
them were bumbling idiots, and it was simply criminal that he was forced to suffer universal derision
alongside them. Feeling more aggrieved than ever, he turned and strode off, coughing as he went.

***

In a nondescript house in an alley in Huarong City, an oil lamp was flickering. Ming Chen was reading a
book by lamplight, but while his eyes appeared to be fixed on the page, he hadn’t turned it for a good
half-hour. He kept looking out the window, or glancing over at Xie Yun, seeming restless and distracted.
Xie Yun was resting his head on his hand, sleeping like a log.

Suddenly, the wooden door was pushed open with a creak, letting the cold night breeze in – it was Ming
Chen’s body guard, Jia Chen.

Ming Chen sprang up from his seat, asking: “So what’s going on?”

Jia Chen lowered his voice: “Shen Tianshu has left the city with his men.”

Ming Chen pursed his lips slightly. After a moment, he sighed and said: “You were right, Third Brother.”

“I merely hazarded an intelligent guess,” Xie Yun said in a slightly hoarse voice, having opened his eyes
at some point. He seemed to have had an unpleasant dream, as yet another crease had appeared on his
forehead, making his almost frivolously handsome face appear several degrees graver. Thinking for a bit,
he then asked: “Did he station men at the main roads leading out of the city?”

Jia Chen replied seriously: “Forgive my incompetence, I can’t be sure as I didn’t dare to get too close to
them. But I did indeed see Shen Tianshu assign a group of men to stay behind.”

Xie Yun nodded, then got up to crack open a window. He started to stretch his stiff limbs, but suddenly
remembering that Ming Chen was watching him, quickly retracted his outstretched arms and recovered
his poise, more than a little unwillingly. He asked: “Ming Chen, when can your letter reach the Huo Clan?”

Ming Chen said: “It’s probably almost at Yueyang City by now, Yi Si[1] is pretty fast. Luckily you’d asked
me to send it out already, or else my men certainly wouldn’t be able to leave the city now…how did you
know that Shen Tianshu would leave, and that he would station men behind?”

“By launching a sneak attack on Mu Xiaoqiao in the middle of the night, Shen Tianshu and Tong Kaiyang
had hoped to eliminate one of the Huo Clan’s main sources of support. They planned to then cut off any
reinforcements the Huo Clan might receive, seize Yueyang City and kill Huo Liantao.” Xie Yun drummed
his fingers on the window ledge, saying slowly: “But they didn’t expect that devil Mu Xiaoqiao to resist
them so – that night, knowing that he could not beat the two of them, he set the entire valley ablaze, with
a fire so immense that even foxes and rabbits miles away were forced out of their holes. Huo Liantao,
who has eyes and ears everywhere here, certainly caught wind of this. The Huo Clan has stood strong
for many generations, and while it might not be an ironclad fortress, it certainly wouldn’t be easy for Shen
Tianshu to penetrate if Huo Liantao is on his guard.”

“And by the way, I’m not the only one who figured out that Huo Liantao has an important backer.” Xie Yun
looked at Ming Chen sharply, causing the boy to lower his head, then continued: “Mu Xiaoqiao might still
be alive. That night, Shen Tianshu and Tong Kaiyang must have split up. The latter was in charge of
pursuing any men from the Mountain of the Living Dead who had escaped, while the former would
personally lead his Dubhe troops to target you.”

Ming Chen looked stunned.

Ming Chen’s face still had traces of baby fat on it. As Xie Yun looked at him, he felt sure that this reckless
young boy would turn all his hair white overnight with worry…and then he remembered that the young
lady who also made him worry like this was gone now.
Ming Chen’s brow furrowed: “My team of men is small and incredibly skilled, and can keep even an
elephant hidden in plain sight. Though we’ve been here for quite some time, no one has…”

Xie Yun sighed, interrupting him: “Haven’t you noticed that there are many more refugees in Huarong
City compared to other places? The peasants are smart enough to know that they should seek refuge
where it is safer, and why do you think that is the case here? Is it because of that good-for-nothing local
governor? It’s because you are here! Huo Liantao must have instructed his men not to harass Huarong
City in particular. You’ve practically been waving your flag high above this city, yet you still think that
you’ve hidden yourself so well.”

Ming Chen felt like a naughty child being reprimanded, and lowered his head in shame.

“You should thank your lucky stars that Chou Tianji inadvertently ended up saving you this time,” Xie Yun
paused, then said, “Phecda had pursued the Wu family all the way here, creating such a ruckus in this
city, and ruining Shen Tianshu’s carefully thought-out plan. If he hadn’t, Dubhe could be standing right in
front of you and you wouldn’t even know it – and by then, not even two more Mr Bais would be sufficient
to protect you!”

Ming Chen mumbled: “But in the end he didn’t manage to…”

Xie Yun scoffed: “He didn’t manage to seize you? Indeed, but he’s trapped you in here. With two layers of
guards guarding the city gates now, even if there were a way to make a break for it, Mr Bai and his men
certainly wouldn’t allow you to take that risk – am I right?”

Ming Chen paced the room, his hands behinds his back. Licking his lips, he said confidently: “What’s the
use of trapping me here? Huo Liantao isn’t so indebted to me that he would send his men to help me,
even if I were captured. As you said, the Huo Clan would certainly be heavily guarded now, and they
have plenty of martial arts experts since they’ve been expanding their control in the Dongting Region
over the last few years. Even the Mountain of the Living Dead was willing to support them. Since they’re
well-prepared, it wouldn’t be any use for Shen Tianshu to personally lead his pack of dogs over there.
Those Big Dipper folks seem to be wasting their efforts, and are nothing to be afraid of – the letter that
you asked me to write to Huo Liantao was too alarmist. The Huo Clan will probably ignore it.”

“Huo Liantao will send his men.” Xie Yun continued, slowly: “If the Big Dipper seized you, and deliberately
spread news of this, Huo Liantao might not do anything…but others might. Ever since Gentleman Gan
Tang withdrew his troops from the Zhongnan Mountains after that big battle, he left General Wen Yu
there to patrol the North-South boundary. It only takes about seven or eight days to get there and back
from here. When General Wen Yu hears of your capture, he’d certainly do something about it on account
of your father, even if he knows that he’ll be walking into a trap. And while the North and South Dynasties
have reached a temporary truce, this is a tenuous peace and tensions could flare up at any moment. If
General Wen Yu musters even the smallest numbers of troops to save you, Shen Tianshu would have
excuse enough to also muster troops to crush the Huo Clan, on the pretext that the Huo Clan has been
‘colluding with the enemy and betraying the nation’. In so doing, they would be able to completely
eradicate the mutinous pugilists in the Dongting Region that have been raring to establish a ‘second 48
Zhai’. Huo Liantao wouldn’t be afraid of a handful of martial arts experts from the Big Dipper, but don’t
you think he’d fear being sieged by thousands of troops?”
Ming Chen was dumbfounded. He stammered: “Third Brother, I don’t think it would be so bad…”

Xie Yun paused again, then suddenly broke into a smile: “Well, maybe not. It’s all just speculation on my
part anyway, and may not come true. But it’s always better to be prepared. At least we’d have planned for
the worst-case scenario.”

Just then, someone walked in through the door. He was sallow-faced and skinny, and slightly hunched
over – it was ‘Shen Tianshu’!

Ming Chen nearly jumped out of his skin. Jia Chen instantly thrust his sword at him, shielding Ming Chen
and Xie Yun.

Then ‘Shen Tianshu’ spoke, but in Mr Bai’s voice: “Master, Third Master, what do you think of my
disguise?”

Xie Yun smiled: “Good enough to fool me.”

Ming Chen exclaimed in surprise: “Mr Bai?”

‘Shen Tianshu’’s body creaked unnaturally, and in an instant, his entire frame expanded, transforming
him from a sickly-looking hunchback to a tall and strapping man. He ripped the prosthetics off his face,
revealing a Mr Bai who looked the picture of health.

Mr Bai asked: “Third Master, when do we make our move?”

Xie Yun was leisurely rolling up his sleeves: “You can go out and take a look tonight, but be extremely
careful.”

Mr Bai laughed heartily, nodded in assent, and left the room. Jia Chen quickly bowed and followed him
out.

Xie Yun was parched. He downed the cup of water before him in one gulp before saying to Ming Chen:
“Rest early tonight, and don’t worry too much. I’m here, after all. It’ll be fine.”

He was walking towards the door as he spoke. Ming Chen suddenly called out after him: “Third Brother!”

Xie Yun turned back to look at him.

Ming Chen asked: “Have you gone to all this trouble just to help me…or is it to save that friend of yours,
whose whereabouts are unknown?”

Xie Yun said evenly: “General Wu Fei’s family members are all fiercely loyal heroes, and we were even
travel companions for a bit. I must find a way to save them. And you are my closest kin. I would help you
clean up any mess that you might make, no matter how catastrophic. Since what I’ve planned
accomplishes both, why shouldn’t I proceed? Hey, you aren’t a pretty girl. I’m not going to be so forgiving
the next time you ask me a question like this.”

Ming Chen seemed a little ashamed, and said dejectedly: “I’m sorry for creating all this trouble.”
Xie Yun looked closely at the boy’s dismayed face for a while, then sighed: “Ming Chen, I held you in my
arms when you were but a baby, and watched you grow up. I can’t say that I know you completely, but I
know enough…so stop pretending to look so pitiful. I’m not going back with you.”

Ming Chen froze at first, then smiled ruefully. He lifted his head again, and that look of childlike contrition
on his face was gone: “Third Brother, what’s so good about running around outside? It’s cold and
uncomfortable and hard and there’s nothing good to eat or drink. The situation at home has grown really
difficult in the last few years. My brothers are all against me, and even father has become increasingly…
only you can help me. As long as you’re willing to do so, even if you want me to step aside in future…”

Xie Yun raised a hand to interrupt him: “Young Master Ming Chen, watch your words.”

But Ming Chen refused to let up: “Third Brother, when you see what the kingdom has become, do you
really not feel like doing something about it? Where we’re standing right now should be our rightful
territory, yet the two of us are reduced to disguising ourselves when we leave the house, and being
careful with what we say. Are you really content to live like this?”

Xie Yun looked like he was about to say something. But then he swallowed his words, shot Ming Chen a
meaningful look, and left the room.

***

With Shen Tianshu’s departure, the atmosphere in Huarong City didn’t relax one bit. When the night-time
curfew started, large numbers of soldiers and black-clad men started patrolling the city, the shifting
moonlight that glinted off their cold weapons making them look like nocturnal monsters from legends of
yore. As no one was allowed to enter or leave the city, supplies started to run low after a few days,
putting everyone in a state of trepidation. But in these troubled times, people had little choice but to follow
orders without complaint, as being half-dead in here was still better than being ravaged in the wild. An
uneasy sort of peace descended on the city.

And Zhou Fei was holed up in that madwoman’s little courtyard.

Duan Jiuniang seemed to have been shaken to the core by Zhou Fei’s harsh words that day, causing her
mind to grow even more scattered. While her courtyard wasn’t large, there were but three and a half
people living here, and so it felt quite empty – Zhou Fei, whose injuries had been worsened by Duan
Jiuniang’santics with her chi, spent most of her time lying down, trying to gather her strength, and
therefore could only be considered half of a person.

Duan Jiuniang had disappeared to god-knows-where, leaving the faded cloths hanging in the empty
courtyard to eerily flap every which way in the breeze. This place was starting to feel more and more like
a haunted house.

Trying to keep up appearances even though she was at her wits’ end, and afraid that Wu Chuchu might
see through her if they started talking, Zhou Fei thumbed through that old priest’s copy of the Tao Te
Ching again and again. She hoped that this gave the impression that she was so unperturbed, she even
had the presence of mind to read a book.
Unfortunately, that old priest seemed to have picked the wrong person to give this book to. Some people
could read a book a hundred times and yet not retain any of it – Zhou Fei being one of them. Even after
scrutinising each word, the only conclusion that she reached was: ‘these words are so poorly written,
even mine are better than this.’

But as to what exactly those poorly-written words meant when strung together, she hadn’t the faintest
idea.

The Tao Te Ching was only comprised of a few thousand words. One could take years to study it in-
depth, or skim it in an hour if one didn’t intend to contemplate its deeper meanings…and as for Zhou Fei,
who didn’t intend to contemplate it at all, she finished it in minutes.

While Zhou Fei was pretending to read, she was thinking anxiously:

It’s no big deal if I don’t have my martial arts anymore. But I don’t even have any money for an armed
escort to bring us back home.

And most importantly, she had no clue what direction home was in.

Zhou Fei stroked the pages with her recently scabbed-over fingers, pondering all these things, then
asked Wu Chuchu abruptly: “Are old classics worth a lot of money?”

Wu Chuchu was stitching up a torn corner of her robes with a needle and thread that she had borrowed
from the servant. She replied: “Some of them can be worth more than thousands of dollars.”

Raising up that useless tome in her hand, Zhou Fei asked: “Look at this paper, it’s as yellow as Dubhe’s
old teeth – this book must be quite ancient. How much do you think it’s worth…hmm, would people fork
out money for really sloppy handwriting? Maybe that could be part of its charm? ”

The words in this handwritten copy of the Tao Te Ching weren’t exactly illegible, just extremely untidy.
The lines ran helter skelter across the page, and the strokes in the Chinese characters on the first few
pages were distorted almost beyond recognition.

Wu Chuchu burst out laughing. But then recalling the many rare antiques and famed paintings she had
the privilege of beholding in the past, she felt even more depressed over everything that had befallen her
since, and her laughter ceased.

Zhou Fei wasn’t seriously intending to read the book, only using it as a temporary diversion to while the
time away. So when she had flipped open its first page, her eyes were drawn only to the errant dots and
vertical strokes[2] that were untidily splayed all over the paper. And she realised that when she looked at
them in isolation, they actually connected to form black squiggles across the page.

Seeing her inspect the pages from all directions, turning the book this way and that, Wu Chuchu asked
curiously: “I read a little of the Taoist classic Tao Te Ching when I was younger, although it was a shallow
reading and there is much that I don’t understand. You’ve been poring over it for days, care to share any
insights?”

Zhou Fei squinted at the page, and said earnestly: “It looks like a large mountain goat.”
Wu Chuchu: “…”

What kind of profound insight could this be!

Zhou Fei got up with some difficulty, then used her hands to cover all the other words on the page,
except for those errant dots and vertical strokes. She asked Wu Chuchu: “If you look only at these
strokes, don’t you see that they seem to form an outline of something? Doesn’t it look like a mountain
goat puckering its lips?”

Wu Chuchu could only shake her head at this unlearned girl.

Zhou Fei had noticed the mournful expression on Wu Chuchu’s face just now, and was hoping to lift her
spirits. She turned to the second page and pointed at it: “See, the dots and vertical strokes on this page
form a leaf, and a wrinkled face on this page, and then on this page…”

She suddenly paused, finding the shapes on the fourth page strangely familiar.

Covering a smile with her hands, Wu Chuchu asked: “What’s it look like?”

Zhou Fei: “A chicken standing on one leg.”

Wu Chuchu finally broke out in laughter.

Her mission accomplished, Zhou Fei smiled as well. But something still felt odd about this – she wasn’t a
fox, so the vague impression of a chicken shouldn’t have excited her so. Then why did she have that
flash of familiarity? Before she could contemplate this further, she heard a loud crash from the courtyard.
The old servant had accidentally dropped a copper basin, exclaiming in surprise.

Astonished, Wu Chuchu stopped laughing and peered out through the window, only to see a figure dart
across the entrance of the courtyard!

***

Being the eldest son of the head of the Zhu family, Zhu Baoshan was very much cut from the same cloth
as his father, at least in terms of his looks. But his character was completely different: not only did he fail
to inherit his father’s philandering ways, he was even a little wretched in demeanour – because he was
keenly aware that he was the offspring of a low-born concubine, who had not only fallen out of favour but
was also a madwoman despised by all.

The biggest regret of Zhu Baoshan’s life was not having been able to crawl right back into his mother’s
womb at birth and be reborn as someone else. If he were ever given the opportunity to do so, he would
definitely choose the right womb this time. Even if he had to be born as a dog, he would want to issue
from the high-born loins of Madam Zhu, the lady of the Zhu house and his father’s primary wife.

Young Master Zhu had been filial to Madam Zhu since young, wishing for nothing more than to forget that
his biological mother existed. But Madam Zhu was a devout Buddhist renowned far and wide for her
saintliness, and would never allow the young man to abandon his real mother. Instead, she reminded him
every few days to pay his respects to her. So on the first day of every month, Zhu Baoshan would
dutifully trudge over to visit his mother, for fear of being labelled ungrateful and unfilial. Having little
choice in the matter, it was his strong and fervent wish that his mother would kick the bucket as soon as
possible.

Three days before the first of this month, Madam Zhu had again reminded him to pay his respects to his
mother. Zhu Baoshan just didn’t understand what Madam Zhu was thinking: since she seemed to care so
much for that madwoman, why did she close one eye when the servants sent her paltry leftovers
everyday?

Perhaps this saint was afraid that the madwoman wouldn’t know her limits, and would eat so much until
she puked?

Scrunching up his face, Zhu Baoshan dragged his feet all the way to the secluded little courtyard. But
when he got there, something seemed amiss – the servant usually flung open the doors to welcome him
long before he arrived. He typically didn’t deign to enter, merely shouting out his greetings at the door
before making a quick escape.

But today, the doors were shut.

Zhu Baoshan hesitated at the doorway for a while, thinking to himself:

That’s strange. Or have the heavens smiled down at me for once, and finally sent that madwoman back
to the underworld?

This courtyard was old and neglected. The roof often leaked, and the worm-eaten doors gave way easily.
Brimming with anticipation, Zhu Baoshan lightly pushed the doors open just a crack, and peered inside.
There was no sign of that madwoman, and the colourful cloths that used to hang haphazardly all over the
courtyard were nowhere to be found. The door of one of its rooms was half-open, and young girls’
laughter could be heard coming from within.

This courtyard was usually cold and empty, and even its rats were scarce. Where had these girls come
from?

Perhaps they had sprung from the trees?

Startled and suspicious, Zhu Baoshan leaned forward to take a closer look. Alas, that clumsy old servant
had come out bearing a copper basin just then, and spied him peeping through the crack in the door. The
basin slipped out of her hands to hit the ground with a resounding crash, bringing the soft laughter from
the house to an abrupt halt. Zhu Baoshan managed to quickly recover his wits somehow, and
immediately took off running. After travelling a considerable distance, he stopped and bent over panting,
his back soaked with sweat. He barely had the chance to catch his breath, before he suddenly felt a blow
to the back of his neck, and collapsed to the ground.

This unforeseen complication of Zhu Baoshan had sent Duan Jiuniang’s little courtyard into a panic.

“It’s the young master.” The old servant wrung her hands nervously as she walked in circles round the
courtyard, “It’s all my fault, I forgot that today was the first of the month. The young master always comes
to pay his respects then. What shall we do now?”
Wu Chuchu was frightened out of her wits, and couldn’t be relied on to provide any ideas. She looked at
Zhou Fei in desperation, but the girl was squinting hard at that ‘Strange Storybook of Animals’ in her
hand, and wouldn’t have budged even if the sky outside came tumbling down.

Just then, two figures appeared in the courtyard. Duan Jiuniang, who hadn’t been seen for days, carrying
a passed out Young Master Zhu.

With a loud exclamation of surprise, the old servant quickly went up to her.

Duan Jiuniang placed him lightly on the ground. Cocking her head to the side, she examined his face for
a bit, then abruptly asked: “Is this Baoshan?”

The old servant almost burst into tears. She didn’t know how her Madam had declined so much. While
she previously still had spurts of sanity, now she seemed to be deteriorating at an alarming rate, such
that she didn’t even recognise her own nephew. She replied: “Of course it is, how can it be that Madam
doesn’t even recognise him?”

Duan Jiuniang looked floored for a good long while, then said with a bleary look on her face: “How old is
Baoshan now?”

The old servant replied: “He’s almost nineteen already, and will soon be of marriageable age. I’m sure
Master Zhu has already started searching for a suitable match.”

“Oh.” Duan Jiuniang lifted a hand to her face. She had spent the last few years in a haze, only eating
when she remembered to, and not taking good care of herself at all. Her cheeks were weather-worn and
wrinkled from exposure to the elements, and rough as tree bark to the touch. She seemed to only realise
now, belatedly, that a full twenty years had swiftly and silently passed her by. Her youth had dissipated as
quickly as steam from a hot cup of water. She seemed to have woken up from a long and deep sleep,
and she was still dazed. Stepping over the young man lying passed out on the ground, she started
frantically circling the tree again and again, looking quite traumatised.

Seeing that she was up to her antics again, the old servant had no choice but to lift that young fellow up
on her own, and carry him into that little shed which the two girls had hid in initially. Then she brought
over a long bench, tying him loosely atop it, and even giving him a pillow for his head. She securely
fastened the windows and door, then came over to Wu Chuchu, saying: “Miss, I’m afraid you can’t stay
here for much longer.”

This was obvious enough to Wu Chuchu, but with Zhou Fei in her current state, how were they going to
leave?

Zhou Fei seemed to have been enlightened by something in that old book, and was now utterly
engrossed, not lifting her head even once despite the commotion outside. Wu Chuchu was just about to
interrupt her, when a hand suddenly thrust out in front of her, blocking her path. It was Duan Jiuniang. Wu
Chuchu was instantly on her guard, fearful that this madwoman might try to pull some stunt or other.

“Shhh-“ Duan Jiuniang walked outside and shut the door, bringing Wu Chuchu with her: “Don’t disturb
her.”
“Ah?” Wu Chuchu said, confusion on her face.

Duan Jiuniang spoke softly, almost as if she were talking to herself: “Brother Li used to be like that too.
He was able to just shut his eyes and enter a different mental space no matter where he was. When I
asked him what he was doing, he’d say that just as cultivating internal strength required meditation,[3]
blade techniques also could be ‘meditated’ on. If he didn’t touch his blade for even a day, his skills would
decline, and so he was practicing, in his head. I didn’t believe him, and asked him to teach me. But every
time I attempted to sit there and meditate, I would start practicing my internal strength instead, or start
daydreaming – there was once I even fell asleep.”

Wu Chuchu stood on her tiptoes, trying to peek in through the window. Zhou Fei’s hair, which she hadn’t
brushed in days, was tied up into a messy ponytail, and hung down past her slender shoulders. Her
scarred fingers were pressed on the worn page, and she just sat there, not moving. Neither her pale face
nor her slightly slouched posture gave the impression of a grandmaster at work.

A thin smile emerged on Duan Jiuniang’s face, and she whispered: “Those Lis may seem like worldly
affairs don’t concern them, but they’re actually all obsessed with martial arts. And they don’t even know
that they’re obsessed.” She chuckled as she said this.

But Wu Chuchu didn’t feel much like laughter, nor did she care for discussing the obsessions of the Li
Clan. She glanced agitatedly at the little shed in the corner, and said: “Senior, we absolutely must leave
now. Since everyone knows that Young Master Zhu came to visit his mother, they’ll certainly come here
looking for him. We can’t keep him tied up like that forever. And our presence here has created enough
trouble for you already…”

Duan Jiuniang said coldly: “What trouble?”

Thinking that Duan Jiuniang’s memory had failed yet again, Wu Chuchu sighed and started to explain:
“The Big Dipper’s men are still searching for us outside…”

Duan Jiuniang scoffed: “Are all seven of those dogs gathered here?”

Wu Chuchu said: “Not all of them.”

“Just wait here then.” Putting her hands on her hips, she said: “I’m not afraid of trouble. Trouble is my
middle name. If anyone dares to come looking for me, I’ll welcome them with open arms.”

Wu Chuchu: “…”

Duan Jiuniang walked off and sat down beneath the tree in the courtyard, humming as she combed her
fingers through her hair. Wu Chuchu had no choice but to sit glumly down on the dirty doorstep outside
Zhou Fei’s room. She thought to herself: All these martial arts pugilists, be they good or evil, are really
stubborn as mules, each one more obstinate than the next, and each one more eager to stir trouble than
the next. They drink themselves to death, kill without even batting an eyelid, and have absolutely no
regard for law and order. They really are a bunch of troublemakers.

Even so, she couldn’t help but wish that she had been born into poverty, eventually taken in by a
renowned sect. After training in seclusion for a decade, she would burst onto the martial arts scene, with
a blade that was invincible and skills which were unparalleled. If the world was at peace, she would travel
to the very ends of the earth on her own; and if the world was at war, she would slash her own bloody
path through it, and then with the line “I’ll be back”, ride off into the sunset…how awesomely satisfying
would that be?

The old servant’s copper basin had come crashing onto the ground at the exact same moment when
Zhou Fei had a stunning epiphany – she finally understood why that fourth page of this book seemed so
familiar: the dots and vertical strokes on it outlined the exact same Mayfly Formation footwork that the old
Taoist priest Chong Xiaozi had guided her through in Mu Xiaoqiao’s valley!

The dots and vertical strokes on the page represented forward and backward movements respectively.
Some of them were as sharp and jagged as a sword unsheathed, while others were as mellow as a flurry
of snow. They came together to constitute a Mayfly Formation which contained a myriad different
movements and shifts. That fight in the valley now flashed across Zhou Fei’s mind in its entirety, from
how she was surrounded, to how she had broken free of her encirclement, weaved around the
surrounding rocks, and emerged victorious despite being outnumbered.

Zhou Fei didn’t have the presence of mind now to care about why the old servant had dropped the
copper basin, or to lift her head to see what was going on around her. She eagerly flipped through the
book. Because she had actually executed part of the Mayfly Formation before, it was relatively easy for
her to make sense of the tactical formations in the book. She was now utterly immersed, and
started playing out the various tactical formations in her mind, imagining that she was once again up
against her opponents in the valley.

The book had laid out the Mayfly Formation in eight pages, corresponding exactly with the eight symbols
of the Taoist bagua.[4] But the pages after that were utterly incomprehensible to Zhou Fei – besides
those dots and vertical strokes, all the other strokes in the Chinese characters also started skewing every
which way across the page.

So the Mayfly Formation seemed to be comprised of eight parts, with the rest of the book depicting
something else entirely. Then was the rest of the book a set of techniques for the sabre, the sword, or
perhaps fists?

As the Mayfly Formation was only a set of tactical formations, and a framework of sorts, practitioners of
different techniques would certainly take different approaches to it, and produce different outcomes, even
when using the same Formation. The Mayfly Formation executed by a master of the Snow-Breaking
Sabre, for example, would look completely different from that executed by a master of the Withered-Glory
Hands. But these myriad different interpretations of the Mayfly Formation didn’t need to be explicitly
spelled out on the page. True practitioners of martial arts would be able to work out how to translate this
Formation into their actual movements, albeit with quite some difficulty. The book only needed to give a
general impression of the Formation’s fundamental principles.

So the remaining pages didn’t contain a further explication of the Mayfly Formation, then. If that was the
case…

Zhou Fei thought to herself: perhaps they contained a particular internal strength technique instead?
If this were so, then the various strokes might represent the various directions that the chi in one’s
meridians should flow in, while the dots might indicate various pressure points. Being well-versed in the
meridians and pressure points of the body was a fundamental requirement of a disciple’s training. Once
Zhou Fei started to look at the next few pages in this light, she was able to make out a line on the page
that seemed to connect the ‘Fengfu’, ‘Lingtai’, and ‘Mingguan’ pressure points running through the body.
[5] But then this line stopped abruptly – the page seemed to be missing a corner. Perhaps it had been
eaten by a worm.

Zhou Fei suddenly froze, emerging from her state of immersion and nearly breaking out in cold sweat.
Too engrossed in the brilliance of the Mayfly Formation, she had subconsciously begun to move the chi in
her body, in the direction indicated on the page – although given her current state, she certainly shouldn’t
be doing so. Perhaps the seal that Duan Jiuniang had earlier placed on her chi had weakened, because
she actually began to feel the slightest bit of chi start to stir within her. Strangely enough, this little bit of
chi didn’t hurt at all, seeming to flow through her out of nowhere to soothe her internal injuries instead.

If there had been a trustworthy elder here, Zhou Fei would certainly have stopped right there, and asked
for advice first before continuing…unfortunately, she was the most dependable person in this courtyard.
She slowly let out a breath, and reminded herself:

Be careful, you could die if you get this wrong, if you direct your chi just one smidgen in the wrong
direction. You absolutely mustn’t be rash, you absolutely can’t……but maybe I could just try, just a little?
As things stand, I will either be trapped to death in Huarong City, or have my martial arts skills destroyed
by that madwoman. Things can’t get any worse than this.

It hadn’t taken much for Zhou Fei to persuade herself to throw caution to the wind. She had chosen to
train herself with the Ink-washing River’s deadly stringed machine for years – the desire to defiantly dive
headfirst into danger was buried deep in her bones. It was just that most of the time, her rational mind
would beg her to consider the bigger picture, and she would ultimately restrain herself to avoid causing
trouble for others. But now, both the big picture and the small picture were dishearteningly bleak. The
mysterious old book in her hand was like a carrot dangling before a donkey, tantalizing her. She decided
to just go for it.

And when Zhou Fei set her mind to something, her boldness knew no bounds. Casting aside all doubts
and fears, she threw herself into studying the hidden diagrams embedded in the rest of the Tao Te Ching.

But when she got to the bottom of each page, she found that a corner had either been bitten off by a
worm, or the writer had messily struck out an incorrect word. Chi was meant to flow in a smooth and
circular fashion within one’s meridians, as the disruption or diversion of this current could be extremely
dangerous. Yet when she moved her chi according to the strange diagrams in this book, she realised that
after its flow was disrupted by a bitten-off page corner or struck-off word, a feeble stream of chi would
start to meander gently throughout her limbs, sending healing sensations across the external and internal
injuries in her body.

The careless disruptions on the page were actually part and parcel of this internal strength technique!
Once she realised this, Zhou Fei focused all her energies on executing it. The pressure point that Duan
Jiuniang had sealed for her kept ‘leaking’ those feeble streams of chi, which gradually suppressed and
absorbed the two opposing currents of chi that had been colliding in her body. This was a slow and
steady process. Wu Chuchu was anxiously pressing her face so hard against the window pane that it
nearly gave way, but it was no use – Zhou Fei remained frozen in the exact same position. Her joints
seemed to have rusted shut. A full day and night passed, during which this neglected little courtyard had
already been visited twice by servants asking about Young Master Zhu’s whereabouts. The old servant
sent all of them away.

[1] Ming Chen named his bodyguards after the sexagenary cycle, also known as the Stems-and-
Branches, that was historically used for reckoning time in China. This is a cycle of sixty terms, each
corresponding to one year, thus a total of sixty years for one cycle. Jia Chen is one of the cycles/years,
which is followed by Yi Si.

[2] Dots are punctuation, quite self-explanatory. Vertical strokes in Chinese characters look like this.

[3] It is said that cultivating internal strength involves meditation (心法), the recitation of mantras (口诀),
and a technique of execution (功谱). Different schools of internal strength have differing meditation
techniques/mantras/execution, of course.

[4] Eight symbols used in Taoist cosmology to represent the fundamental principles of reality. Have linked
to this before but here it is again anyway.

[5] The ‘Fengfu’ pressure point looks like this; the ‘Lingtai’ pressure point like this; and the ‘Mingguan’
pressure point is located about 1.5 inches below the left breast.