Chen Ping'an looked doubtful. Ning Yao glared at him, pointing to the inscription."It really is pronounced 'roll'! This technique was conceived during my time observing the rains of Great Li. The force of the fist mimics the momentum of a downpour—its intent to sweep away all in its path. The fist aura crashes like ink-drenched torrents falling to earth, rolling across the imperial dragon wall of the Great Li Palace in a deluge!"
Chen Ping'an focused on the series of punch diagrams laid out on the page like a battle formation. Each sketch of the tiny figure throwing punches was cramped onto a single sheet. The charcoal drawings were far from refined, yet thanks to Chen Ping'an's keen eyes, he could see every detail clearly even in the dim light.
After listening to Ning Yao's cryptic explanation, the boy murmured, "It sounds like a very formidable technique."
Ning Yao leaned in slightly, studying the drawings before nodding."There's a move in the martial world, passed down for millennia without ever being lost, that bears a resemblance to this one."
Chen Ping'an turned his head curiously. "What is it?"
Under the dusky lantern light, the girl's eyebrows arched gently, like a peach branch bent by the spring breeze. She stifled a laugh and said,"There's a set of moves popular across all ages and backgrounds. It's called 'Turtle Fist'—just flailing about wildly, and it can beat an old master to death in sheer chaos."
Chen Ping'an sighed helplessly. "That's not something to joke about."
As he imagined it in his mind, wasn't that exactly Gu Can's specialty, the chaotic art he was infamous for?
He recalled an incident from many years ago. Gu Can's mother had once been in an unpleasant altercation outside a powder shop on Apricot Blossom Alley. Back then, Gu Can had just learned to walk. His father, a man from out of town who was seldom home, had long been forgotten by the neighbors of Clay Bottle Alley. The women of the area began to worry that whenever their men passed by the Gu widow's house, they would slow down unconsciously, as if their souls were ensnared merely by the sight of her garments drying on bamboo poles.
One day, Granny Ma gathered five or six women and marched to blockade the Gu residence. Gu's widow took a beating in that encounter, though her attackers didn't gain much either—both sides ended up battered and bruised. Yet in the end, she stood alone. Outnumbered, her clothes torn, the thin fabric barely clinging to her body, a sudden exposure of her figure only fueled the madness of those women consumed by jealousy and self-loathing. They clawed and bit with abandon, while the men watching from nearby alleys could only gulp at the spectacle.
Fortunately, Chen Ping'an had returned from the dragon kiln just in time. He had long been under the protection of Gu's widow and leapt in to shield her from the worst of their underhanded blows. The straw-sandaled boy never struck back—not out of fear, but because he feared that one punch might kill someone.
Back then, he had already walked mountains and crossed rivers, traveled farther than many elders of the town had in their lifetimes, all by the age of twelve or thirteen.
He and the woman sat silently at the courtyard gate. Gu Can had been locked inside, perhaps because his mother didn't want him to see her in such a state. The boy glanced at her face and pointed to the corner of her lips. She smirked faintly, wiped away the blood with her thumb.
Inside the house, the child wailed, calling again and again for his mother. The woman smiled at the straw-sandaled youth, and in the next instant, tears streamed down her face.
The next day, an unwilling new burden followed Chen Ping'an wherever he went.
Ning Yao's voice drew him back from his reverie."What are you thinking about?"
Chen Ping'an asked, "Do you think Gu Can and his mother will really find a better life after leaving town with Lord Jiejiang to that Book Lake?"
Ning Yao asked in return, "Do you think they had a bad life in Clay Bottle Alley?"
He pondered."Gu Can, that little brat, probably didn't find it hard at all—he's too young and ungrateful to care. But his mother… I doubt she ever liked this place, especially the women of Clay Bottle and Apricot Blossom alleys. She probably hated every one of them.
"And I always felt like she didn't belong here. She seemed… unwilling, discontent. Old Yao once said when a man's heart is unsettled, he dreams of distant lands, but when a woman's heart is unsettled, she strays from the walls of her home. I don't think that's entirely fair…"
Ning Yao suddenly straightened and slammed the table."Enough nonsense! Are you going to study the fist manual or not?!"
Startled, Chen Ping'an quickly said, "Yes, Miss Ning, please go on."
Ning Yao snorted."There's no point talking to you about cultivation—you'll never be able to cultivate. So I can only teach you martial arts, the path of the warrior."
Just as Chen Ping'an opened his mouth to respond, the girl continued,"The martial path is divided into nine realms. Some say there's a tenth above them, just like how each great dynasty has its own elite chess masters…"
Her tone grew lighter, and she smiled."Chen Ping'an, do you know what a 'qidai zhao' is?"
He shook his head honestly.
Her face lit up."In Go, the highest rank is the ninth dan, equivalent to a top-ranking official. But once in a century, there are prodigies who earn the title 'ten-dan grandmaster'. These people receive all sorts of dazzling titles. In your Great Li Dynasty, your qidai zhao is a disgrace—they say your ninth dan is only as good as Sui Dynasty's seventh. In all of Great Li, only one man nicknamed 'Embroidered Tiger' is acknowledged by Sui's Go circles as a true rival.
"Oh, by the way, do you even know what Go is?"
Chen Ping'an nodded. "I know the rules, though I can't play. Song Jixin and Zhi Gui have boards and stones at home."
She looked disappointed. "Is that so…"
After all her talk, the boy still hadn't grasped what the "nine realms" truly were. She seemed to realize she'd gone off track and cleared her throat before continuing solemnly,"My mother once said: the martial path's nine realms are each a step upward. But even if you reach the peak of the ninth, it's like standing atop a mountain only to see another looming in the distance—you've barely reached its waist."
Chen Ping'an nodded slowly. "I think I understand."
He had seen such a scene with his own eyes.
Ning Yao didn't mind whether he truly understood and went on,"The nine realms are divided into three stages: body refinement, qi refinement, and spirit refinement. Each stage has three levels. You must climb them one by one—no missteps allowed. The steadier your progress, the better. Speed isn't as important as stability. That's the difference from cultivation."
"The first stage of body refinement begins with the 'Mud Embryo Realm'. As the name suggests, it's as crude and rough as the very alley you live in. But when perfected, the body becomes like a mud Buddha—humble in material, yet possessing an undeniable presence. You achieve a steady core, rooted like a mountain. This realm's essence lies in dispersing and grounding—'scattering' and 'sinking'. One's talent, perception, and guidance all become apparent at this stage."
"The second realm is the 'Wood Embryo Realm'. Your physique begins refining, becoming more intricate. At its peak, your skin's texture resembles carved runes, like this snake gall stone you found in the stream. It's vastly different inside from ordinary pebbles. The essence of this realm is 'opening the mountain'—expanding the meridians from narrow trails into broad avenues fit for carriages. The quality of one's bones and foundation is judged here."
As she spoke, the girl lifted the stone he had given her and gazed at it under the lamplight.
"The third and final realm of body refinement is 'Mercury Mirror'. Your blood thickens like mercury, yet feels lighter than before. Qi and blood become one. To cross its threshold, one must survive an ordeal known as 'the mud Buddha crossing the river'. Whether you succeed in leaping over the final barrier and transform into a dragon depends on your fate."
Chen Ping'an listened with wide-eyed confusion, his gaze fixed...