Chapter 80: Chapter 80

Han Li dropped his voice, as though recounting something scarcely believable.

“I’ve known Brother Xiao for a little over two months. In that time, I’ve watched with my own eyes — wherever he goes, treasures practically sprout legs and hurl themselves into his arms.”

“He walks down the street and stumbles on someone’s dropped silver. He sees an injustice and steps in, cuts down some thug on the spot, and when he searches the body — guaranteed, there’s a technique manual or a miraculous healing medicine.”

“Last month, Brother Xiao Wu wanted to celebrate the birthday of another friend of his, a Brother Ji. He invited me to go into the Dali Mountains and hunt a treasure beast — skin it and make a fur coat as a gift.”

“On the way back, he put a foot wrong and fell into a cave. Not only did he walk away without a scratch, he found the skeleton of a swordsman from a previous dynasty sitting in there.”

“There were words carved on the stone wall — the man said he was from the Great Yang dynasty, hunted to this spot by soldiers of the current dynasty, out of supplies, dying of wounds. All he had left were his spirit sword and his sword art. Anyone with the affinity could inherit his legacy — and if they lacked the affinity, he asked them to at least find the art a worthy successor…”

“Brother Xiao uses a spear, and I have my own inheritance…”

“So it happened that his friend Brother Ji also uses a sword. He gave the spirit sword and the entire legacy to him…”

Han Li spread his hands.

“In short, Brother Xiao’s luck defies all explanation. He could walk into a ruined temple or an abandoned house, close his eyes, wander around a bit, and trip over a hidden fortune.”

“Now you tell me — if we send him to look for the Tongbei Stance, do you think he won’t find it?”

The fantastical account left Song Huatang gaping. He murmured, almost to himself:

“Can there really be… someone in this world so blessed by fortune? It beggars belief. If I ever get the chance, I must meet this Brother Xiao Wu in person…”

Madam Han, however, didn’t follow her son’s thread.

Her brow furrowed deeply, as though something had surfaced from the depths of memory. Her lips moved, her voice dropping to a near-whisper.

“Fortune seeking its own master… danger turning to deliverance… death averted, life prolonged… a body born for the martial path…”

A moment later, her eyes flew wide. Her body shuddered uncontrollably.

Sensing the change, Han Li and Song Huatang both whipped their heads around, startled.

Han Li couldn’t help himself. “Auntie, what is it…?”

Madam Han drew a steadying breath, fighting down the storm raging in her chest. Her gaze burned as it fixed on the two of them, and she spoke with deliberate weight, one word at a time.

“Years ago, when I still lived at the main estate in Xinyi Commandery, I once read an ancient scroll that contained a description remarkably similar to what you’ve just told me…”

“If I remember correctly, the scroll called people like this —”

“A Child of Destiny!”

…

The outer city.

The Bai family’s western quarry.

The mine tunnel was deep and cramped, the air foul and thick.

Pine-pitch torches were wedged into brackets along both walls, their flames crackling, throwing jittering shadows across the uneven rock face — now bright, now dark.

A young man, stripped to the waist, stood on a patch of open ground inside the tunnel, holding a stance.

His features were rugged — heavy brows like drawn sabers, a gaze that was steady and resolute. Between his brows there was an innate air of bold, unconstrained spirit.

As the stance accelerated, his bones and sinews rang out in unison — a rapid-fire series of snapping pops.

Just then, footsteps echoed from the mine entrance.

Xiao Wu’s ears twitched. He eased out of his stance and snatched up a waterskin, downing two long gulps.

Before long, Xiao Wen ducked into the tunnel, drenched in sweat. He sealed the entrance behind him with a plank of wood, then hurried to Xiao Wu’s side.

“Big Brother, it’s done. Brother Han got them both out safely.”

Xiao Wu showed no surprise.

He passed the waterskin to his brother. The ghost of a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

“Good to hear. It was only a small favor for Brother Han, nothing more… But enough about them. How’s your stance training coming along?”

Xiao Wen took a swig, wiped his mouth, and answered with a note of excitement.

“Big Brother, I can already feel a current of heat running wild inside me. I think I’m just one step away from breaking into Blood Tempering!”

Xiao Wu shook his head.

“Too slow.”

The excitement on Xiao Wen’s face stiffened, then melted into a helpless, rueful smile.

“My talent’s always been dull. How could I possibly compare to you, Big Brother… Besides, how many people in this world could match your gift?”

This was no exaggeration.

Xiao Wu’s martial talent was nothing short of terrifying.

A little over two months ago, the brothers had been nothing more than bottom-rung laborers in this very quarry — liable at any moment to be crushed or worked to death. Xiao Wu’s body, in particular, had been worn thin as paper by years of toil.

But ever since he accidentally dug up a mysterious Jade Mirror deep in the mine and obtained a legacy cultivation method from within it, everything changed. He was reborn, and his cultivation had been advancing by leaps and bounds ever since.

“Watch carefully — I’ll demonstrate once more!”

Xiao Wu paid no mind to his brother’s flattery.

He rose, shifted his feet, and planted them on the gravel. His soles gripped the ground like the roots of an ancient tree.

Then his spine arched back, ten fingers splayed into claws, and he thrust forward in a single explosive motion.

“Hoo!”

A gust of force swept across the level ground, setting the torches along the walls guttering and dancing.

Xiao Wu’s chest swelled and contracted. His breathing was deep and powerful as a bellows, and with every inhale and exhale, the qi-blood in his body surged like a great river in flood.

The aura that radiated from him was fierce, overwhelming — like a dark eagle plunging on its prey.

Perfection-grade Dark Eagle Stance!

Xiao Wen stared, slack-jawed.

He had never taught Xiao Wu this stance.

The thing was, his own talent was poor. His practice was halting and slow, his progress a crawl. So Xiao Wu had simply asked him to run through the stance forms a few times in front of him.

And from those few viewings alone, Xiao Wu had carved every last movement into his memory.

More astonishing still — by observing the rhythm of Xiao Wen’s breathing as he changed positions, Xiao Wu had reverse-engineered the matching breathing method entirely from scratch.

In barely ten days, he had pushed the Dark Eagle Stance to Full Mastery. Another seven or eight days, and he had already crossed into Perfection.

Xiao Wen swallowed hard. The shock in his heart was beyond measure.

During his time at Mei Hall, he had seen Senior Brother Shen Xiuhan’s gift with his own eyes.

Sixteen days to awaken his qi-blood, simultaneously training the Dark Eagle Stance to Initial Mastery. Even Master herself had remarked that his talent was no less than the Eldest Senior Sister’s.

But compared to his own big brother’s monstrous comprehension — the ability to reverse-engineer an entire method from a few casual glances…

Xiao Wen was forced to conclude that even the dazzling Senior Brother Shen would fall a step short.

“Sink your qi to the dantian. Focus your intent on your fingertips. Your stance just now was too loose!”

Xiao Wu demonstrated and corrected as he went.

Watching that seamless, flowing execution, a flash of insight sparked in Xiao Wen’s mind. Several sticking points that had baffled him for days suddenly broke wide open.

“Big Brother! I’ve got it!”

Overjoyed, he didn’t even bother with a farewell — just bolted out of the mine in a burst of impatience.

Watching him go, Xiao Wu lowered his stance, shook his head, and laughed.

“That kid. At his age, still this reckless. How’s he ever going to amount to anything?”

He pulled on his shirt and reached into a crevice in the rock, retrieving a palm-sized disc-shaped object.

An ancient Jade Mirror.

Its surface was smooth and flawlessly translucent, without a single blemish. Intricate cloud patterns were carved across it, the lines so lifelike they seemed to breathe.

Xiao Wu ran his thumb across the Jade Mirror, his expression calm and contemplative as he gazed down at it in silence.

FWIP!

A faint sound came from outside the mine.

A fist-sized grey rat with a long, pale-gold tail shot out of a crack in the rock like a bolt of lightning.

The little creature scurried up Xiao Wu’s trouser leg with practiced ease, perched on his shoulder, and nuzzled its fuzzy head against his cheek.

Then its two front paws began waving frantically, and it launched into a stream of furious squeaking.

“Squeak squeak squeak!”

Xiao Wu couldn’t help but laugh.

He tucked the Jade Mirror away, stroked the golden-tailed rat’s fur with one finger, and grinned.

“What’s all this about? Who’s got you in such a temper?”

“Squeak squeak! Squeak squeak squeak!”

“Oh… you’re saying the one who stole your stash last time out in the Dali Mountains — he’s back?”

“Squeak squeak!”

“Ha ha ha, you little miser…”

“SQUEAK SQUEAK SQUEAK SQUEAK!!”

“All right, all right, calm down. Next time we run into him, I’ll give him a good talking-to on your behalf. Will that do?”

“Squeeeak~~~”