The summer sun blazed amid the thin and few clouds.

Ding Songyan stood in the narrow alley, barely wide enough for two men abreast, pretending to enjoy the draft blowing through. 𝑓𝓇𝘦ℯ𝘸𝘦𝑏𝓃𝑜𝘷ℯ𝑙.𝑐𝑜𝓂

He had actually considered calling out directly to Hallmaster Chen, who might be observing or listening nearby. A simple "Hallmaster Chen, please come out and show yourself!" had crossed his mind.

But after ruminating over it repeatedly, he abandoned the idea.

If Chen Yuliang truly was close by, that would amount to flushing him out, forcing him into the open. The situation would grow complicated. There was no telling whether it might push him to desperation. The watchtowers deterred men who still wanted an escape route; they did nothing to frighten someone who had already resolved to die trying. If things came to that, Ding Songyan would have to rely entirely on Master Yu’s protection in the short term. And defending one person against a man with nothing to lose was far harder than simply killing someone.

Now that he had a rough picture of the situation and a real hope of resolving the crisis, Ding Songyan was not willing to gamble with his own life.

So he simply asked, in a conversational tone, where Hallmaster Chen might be right now.

It was a signal to Master Yu, hidden somewhere nearby: Chen Yuliang might be close.

He did not know whether Master Yu would think of this on his own. Since he did not know, he had to assume he would not.

The blotchy-nosed man was baffled by the question.

"At our Small Boat Gang’s headquarters, of course."

Ding Songyan tried another angle.

"What martial art does Hallmaster Chen practice?"

This, too, was asked on Master Yu’s behalf. As a member of a rival gang, Master Yu most likely already knew. But for safety’s sake, Ding Songyan asked anyway.

"Everyone knows that. Why are you asking? Black Turtle Art!" The blotchy-nosed man still could not fathom what Ding Songyan was after.

Ding Songyan pressed further.

"Is Hallmaster Chen skilled at seeing or hearing over great distances?"

The blotchy-nosed man blinked.

"Hallmaster Chen can hear faint sounds from 200 feet away..."

As he said it, realization seemed to dawn on him as well.

Hallmaster Chen might be right here!

Almost simultaneously, Ding Songyan heard a faint disturbance from the alley mouth behind him, as though something had swept past.

Then Master Yu appeared from somewhere, in his black cap and dark short jacket, his figure flickering past like a ghost.

So fast... The thought had barely formed when the blotchy-nosed man snapped awake. Without even turning his body fully, he was already sprinting toward the other end of the alley.

Damn you, Ding Songyan! You had an ambush waiting!

Ding Songyan still had questions to ask. Seeing that the blotchy-nosed man showed no sign of martial ability as he ran, he threw aside his candied hawthorn stick and gave chase.

This kind of pursuit, involving no martial violence, would not concern the watchtowers. Not unless it caused a disturbance or drew in bystanders.

The blotchy-nosed man’s footsteps hammered against the ground as he reached the mouth of the alley, about to round a large tree with dense foliage and a spreading canopy, turning in another direction.

Suddenly, a pair of bronze-dark hands shot out from behind the tree, seized the blotchy-nosed man’s shoulders with unerring accuracy, and dragged him into the blind spot formed by the alley wall and the thick canopy.

Ding Songyan, still inside the alley, had not noticed anyone hiding behind that tree.

In a blink of an eye, before he could stop himself and already close behind, he heard a dull, heavy impact. Then the sound of bone breaking.

He finally skidded to a halt and immediately turned, trying to put distance between himself and the tree.

A gentleman does not stand beneath a crumbling wall!

"Songyan! Songyan, it’s me!" A familiar voice came from the blind spot behind the tree.

Eldest Brother? Ding Songyan stared. He caught a glimpse of Bull’s face peeking out, just enough to give him a quick nod before withdrawing again.

Those bell-round eyes were threaded with red veins. His thick beard and the skin of his face were speckled with drops of blood.

Ding Songyan frowned, thought for a moment, then put on the look of a man with an urgent need to relieve himself, and in a few steps moved to a position beside the tree where he could see into the blind spot.

He stood facing the alley wall, hands at his waist, and used the corner of his eye to look. The blotchy-nosed man lay there. His face looked as though it had been hit by a sledgehammer, completely caved in. The blood that had burst from the wound had sprayed across his own body and across Bull’s face. He was no longer breathing.

Bull wiped his fist, still flecked with bone fragments and flesh, on the dead man’s clothing. He turned his head, scratched it, and said to Ding Songyan sheepishly, "Songyan, I lied to you this morning. Mother said Master Yu is only one man, and might not be enough to keep you safe. She told me not to go to the docks today. To follow you in secret instead."

Ding Songyan nodded blankly, pointing at the blotchy-nosed man.

"Dead?"

"One punch and he died." Bull nodded earnestly. Those bell-round eyes held not a trace of fear or panic. He was as calm as if telling his younger brother that a meal at the docks was his treat.

Ding Songyan’s first instinct was to call the police. No, report it to the authorities. But his mind had gone blank.

My own brother just killed someone?

I only wanted to catch him. To ask about the details of the Secret Classic of Mountains and Seas transaction...

Granted, this means one fewer hostile witness, and the dead man was a gang member. But I have always been a law-abiding citizen!

Looking at Bull’s perfectly untroubled expression, a thought struck him.

"Bull, this isn’t the first time you’ve killed someone, is it?"

Bull thought carefully for a while.

"On the road to Dingjiang Prefecture. I killed a few."

Ding Songyan’s back turned rigid, and yet some part of him felt this was only natural.

Earlier, when he had told Xu Chang’an that the girl in the white dress could travel all the way to Dingjiang Prefecture, made no effort to conceal herself, and still carried that look of innocent naivety, she must either come from extraordinary wealth or possess formidable martial skill. At the time, he had drawn a parallel to his own family:

Qingyan was no less beautiful than the girl in white. Their mother was also a striking woman. True, whenever they went out, they wore veiled hats and kept themselves well covered, and on the journey to Dingjiang Prefecture they would certainly have paid to travel with a large merchant convoy or shipping fleet for safety. But on a long road, the unexpected was never far away. A family of five with no special protection could very well attract the wrong kind of attention.

Ding Songyan had originally assumed they had been lucky, or had found a particularly reliable convoy. Now he saw it was not that at all. His family had its own "powerful" protector. Any predators who slipped through the net had been dealt with by his elder brother.

"Bull, what martial art did you learn?" Ding Songyan asked, almost out of habit.

Bull turned his gaze back to the corpse with its caved-in face. His voice came out in a low rumble.

"I was born with divine strength."

As he spoke, he reached up with his left hand and wiped the blood droplets from his face and beard. Then he brought his fingers to his mouth and began, slowly, to lick them clean.

"..." Ding Songyan stared, slack-jawed.

Bull ran his hand over the blotchy-nosed man’s ruined face, the corners of his mouth splitting into a grin, and shared something with his brother, "Songyan. I really like killing people."

Every hair on Ding Songyan’s body stood on end. A chill seeped through him.

Bull smacked his lips, looking genuinely regretful.

"But Mother won’t allow it."

Before Ding Songyan could respond, the man crouching before the corpse turned his head, his expression eager to please.

"Songyan, Mother shouldn’t scold me or punish me because I was protecting you today, right?"

The corner of Ding Songyan’s mouth twitched. For the sake of his own safety, he offered a vague reassurance.

"She probably won’t..."

Last night, after learning the truth of his brother’s origins, he had looked at their mother Liu Yuzao’s attitude toward Bull and felt, inexplicably, that this was a big dog being looked down upon.

Now he only wanted to slap himself.

This was nothing but a savage tiger, held in check only by the chains of familial love!

......

Outside Dangkang Temple.

Master Yu darted through the crowd with an agility that was almost simian, pursuing Chen Yuliang ahead of him. With every step, wind seemed to sweep past and carry him to a new position as though he had blinked through space.

At some point, a subtle prickling sensation spread through his body. He understood: one of the watchtower sentries had taken aim at him.

Since he had not yet crossed the line into martial violence, Master Yu did not slow down. The distance between himself and Chen Yuliang shrank steadily.

If not for the dense crowds of this busy market, as a man whose martial art bore the name of "wind", he would have caught up long ago.

Past Dangkang Temple, Chen Yuliang suddenly ducked into a martial hall, cutting through a covered corridor, skirting the courtyard and the training ground, and with obvious familiarity reaching a small, empty building at the rear.

Chen Yuliang stopped. He turned to face the doorway.

He was in his thirties, dark-skinned, with a slightly protruding mouth, wearing clothes that resembled a waterman’s tight-fitting garb.

He watched Master Yu slow his approach, step by deliberate step, and cracked his neck with a smile.

"So the Secret Classic of Mountains and Seas was a trap set for our Small Boat Gang.

"Master Yu, is it? You’ve served Patriarch Zhen for ten years and never once fought at full strength. You’re not even listed in the Orchid Rankings. I’ve been wanting to test you for a long time. Are you also at Profound Discerned, or something higher?"

Master Yu’s expression was cold and dead. He said nothing.

He took one step forward. Wind erupted. In an instant he had closed to within ten feet of Chen Yuliang, and his palm was already cleaving through the air.

Chen Yuliang had barely raised his hands to block when Master Yu’s heel stamped and pivoted, wrenching his forward momentum into an impossible change of direction, ghosting around to the man’s back. His left palm followed in a diagonal chop.

"Hmph!" Chen Yuliang showed no alarm. He sidestepped and took the blow on his shoulder.

A dull thud. Master Yu’s hand struck what felt like dead leather.

In those slightly lifeless eyes of his, he saw it: the exposed skin of his enemy seemed to thicken in an instant, patterned with lines like the cracks in a tortoise shell.

Thud, thud, thud! In the confined space of the small building, Master Yu moved with barely any restriction. His lower body drifted like duckweed, swaying and spinning in the wind, constantly changing position, driving his upper body to strike from every angle, palms and fists seeking what might be gaps in Chen Yuliang’s defense.

Chen Yuliang could not match Master Yu’s speed. He could only plant himself in place and hold firm.

Amid the rapid-fire percussion of blows, Master Yu glided to a new position. His left palm shot out ahead of Chen Yuliang’s guard and chopped at the man’s neck.

Chen Yuliang’s neck suddenly gave way, as though layers of leather were parting, swallowing Master Yu’s left hand and trapping it there. His momentum died.

A vicious grin spread across Chen Yuliang’s mouth. He seized the opening, clenched his right fist, torqued his body halfway around, and drove it toward Master Yu’s face.

Master Yu’s expression did not change. His right hand suddenly clawed forward.

With that motion, the air before him solidified into wind given substance, gust after gust, raking across Chen Yuliang’s face as it twisted toward him like extensions of Master Yu’s own fingers. The target was those eyes.

Blood sprayed instantly. Chen Yuliang’s mouth fell open in a scream.

The howling wind that surged forward stuffed the sound back down his throat.

His vision had gone completely black. A single phrase flared in his mind: Seven Arts of Wind Seizure!