Ahmad slurped noisily as he drank out of his bowl of pork rib soup, savoring the rich broth with a satisfaction that only a man who hadn’t cooked the meal himself could enjoy. Across from him, Lian Yi was sitting stiffly with her hands folded on the table, staring at the untouched bowl in front of her. The scent of the soup drifted toward her, savory and warm, but it did little to ease the discomfort in her stomach. She was hungry, but not hungry enough for it to triumph over her turbulent mind.
She couldn’t stop replaying the fight in her mind. The clash of steel, the cries of the bandits, and the adrenaline coursing through her veins as she’d struck them down. At the time, it had felt so exhilarating. Now, in the quiet of the tavern, that exhilaration had turned to bitterness.
Her fingers twitched involuntarily. She remembered how heavy her guan dao had felt by the end of the skirmish, it wasn’t the physical strain that bothered her now, it was the hollow feeling that had settled in her chest. The sense that something vital seemed to have shifted in a way she couldn’t take back.
“Not hungry?” Ahmad’s voice broke through her thoughts. He was leaning back in his chair, holding the mostly empty bowl in his hands except for a big bone sticking out of it, the meat on it having been entirely devoured, he looked utterly at ease. His tone was casual, but the glint in his eyes suggested he already knew the answer.
Lian Yi shook her head slightly. “I’ll eat later.”
“Later doesn’t count,” he replied, setting the bowl down with a clink. “Soup’s hot now. You’ll regret it when it’s cold. I don’t know what you’re used to eating, but I’ve never seen someone not eat pork rib soup after tasting it.”
She didn’t answer, her eyes instead drifting over to the tavern window. The world outside looked remarkably peaceful bathed in the afternoon light, a stark contrast to how she had viewed it only a few hours ago.
Ahmad sighed loudly, which make Yi take her eyes off the windows views. “Listen, in life, a lot of hard work will often get you nothing but a mess. And the best you can do is pretend to be happy with the result. You did the best you could, and that’s good enough.”
Lian Yi stared at him, her frustration warring with the guilt she felt. She hated how easily he dismissed what felt like a monumental mistake. To her, the idea that her actions had led to someone else’s suffering was unbearable.
“Look at you,” He continued. “You’re just sitting in the corner looking like a depressed fish gasping for air.”
Lian Yi’s jaw tightened as Ahmad’s words settled over her, the casual tone in his voice was like a slap to the face. She snapped her gaze back to him, her fists clenching in her lap.
“Is this a joke to you?” she said, her voice perhaps sharper than she wanted it to be.
Ahmad blinked, momentarily caught off guard, “What are you talking about?” he asked,
“You keep acting like it’s nothing,” she shot back, her frustration spilling over. “Like I didn’t just—” She stopped herself, her throat growing tighter. “Like I didn’t do something terrible out there.”
Ahmad leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms loosely over his chest. “You mean stopping a group of bandits from killing and stealing?”
“You don’t get it!” she nearly shouted, her voice trembling with anger. “I didn’t just stop them. I ruined them. I struck them down without mercy, without thinking about what would happen to them after. Do you know what I’ve done to their lives?”
Her voice cracked, but she didn’t stop. “And now you’re sitting here telling me to pretend to be happy with it? To move on like it’s nothing?”
“Then let me as you this. Was what you chose to do a mistake? Was it as mistake to help that merchant?” Ahmad asked, his voice calm but firm.
Lian Yi didn’t respond right away. Her hands resting on her lap, fingers curling and uncurling as if searching for something to hold onto. The question lingered in the air, heavier than she’d expected. Finally, she shook her head, her voice quiet but steady.
“No.”
“Then don’t ask them,” Ahmad replied, his sudden serious tone breaking through her hesitance.
She blinked at him, startled by the sharpness of his voice, but in the end Yi said nothing. Her gaze dropped to the table.
“These kinds of questions only lead to regret,” he continued, his tone mellowing slightly as he spoke.
Lian Yi shifted in her seat, the feeling of discomfort on her face becoming apparent. Her chest felt tight, as if the unspoken words inside her were trying to push their way out. She didn’t agree with what he said, but she didn’t dare interrupt him. She didn’t want to.
“What if? Could I have? Should I have?” Ahmad’s voice rose slightly with each question, the rhythm deliberate, almost mocking. “There’s a time for those questions, and that’s when you believe you did the wrong thing.”
Lian Yi frowned, her lips parting to say something, but Ahmad immediately began speaking again, silencing her.
“But you didn’t,” he said firmly, his gaze locking onto hers, “So don’t waste time asking questions that’ll only bring you misery. If what you did was right, but it still hurts, the pain isn’t a sign you should be second guessing yourself. It’s a sign you need to deal with it, not drag yourself down further.”
The words hit her like a punch to the chest. Lian Yi leaned back slightly, her fingers tightening into fists on her lap. Her mind was rife with doubts, but Ahmad’s voice made them feel small and fleeting, like murmurs in the wind.
"But it still feels wrong," she mumbled as if muttering to herself. Her voice was tense and confused.
“Of course it does,” Ahmad said with a shrug. “Doing the right thing isn’t about feeling good. It’s about doing what’s necessary.”
Lian Yi looked away, her chest tight. She hated how much sense he made, how his words cut through her anger and left her with nothing but the raw ache of her guilt.
“You’re right,” he continued, “You hurt people today. You’ll probably hurt more before you even know it. That’s the price of trying to do the right thing. It’s not fair, and it doesn’t feel good, but it’s the truth. You don’t have to like it, but you do have to live with it.”
She stared at the table, her thoughts swirling like a storm. She desperately wanted to argue, to push against what he said, but deep down, she knew he was right. The tension in her body slowly unwound as she processed his words. It wasn’t the answer she was hoping for, but it felt like the one she needed. Taking a deep breath, Lian Yi sat up a little straighter, unclenched her hands and placed them firmly on the table.
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After a long moment of staring at the now slightly colder soup and the glistening ribs resting within it, she reached out with her still trembling hands, ignoring the utensils altogether. Slowly but surely she began to eat, at first tearing the tender meat from the bones with her fingers. But by the time she reached the second and last bone, she abandoned her fingers entirely, instead biting straight into the meat.
The savory flavor lingered on her tongue, but no amount of flavor could mask the bitterness she felt. When the meat was gone, she turned to the broth, its warm and comforting aroma betraying the harsh taste it left as she forced herself to swallow each mouthful. It tasted heavenly, and she hated it.
But as all things, be they good or bad, must come to an end. The soup was no exception, nothing left in the bowl except 2 bones completely stripped of anything so much as resembling meat.
When Ahmad noticed the enthusiasm with which Yi devoured her meal, a soft chuckle escaped his lips. ‘Nobody can resist pork ribs,’ he thought to himself, the corner of his lips curling upward in amusement.
The savory aroma of the soup still lingered in the air, but like all things, no matter how delightful, the feast eventually came to an end. The once full bowl now sat empty, save for two gleaming bones stripped clean of anything even resembling meat.
“Good job,” he said, his tone laced with teasing approval, “But there's no rest for the wicked I'm afraid. I already got you a room and reserved the back of the inn. If you're ready you can begin training any time.”
“Alright,” she said softly, her voice void of its usual vitality, or any energy for that matter.
Ahmad pushed himself up from the table with a loud stretch, his chair scraping noisily against the floor. “Good. Let's go. You always wanted me to teach you directly so I'll teach you something today.”
She stood up without hesitation, picked up her guan dao which propped up against the wall by the table, and without a word followed Ahmed, her fingers curling tightly around the familiar shape.
As Ahmad led the way through the bustling tavern, his steps relaxed yet filled with confidence, Yi didn’t notice the curious glances from the other patrons. To her, their whispers might as well have been nonexistent.
The back of the inn was a small, fenced-off courtyard, surrounded by not yet lit lanterns. The scent of damp earth filled the air, and the faint chirping of crickets provided a soothing backdrop. After reaching the middle Ahmad turned to her, and as he crossed his arms he began to speak.
“Hand to hand combat is hard, and having you learn it and the guan dao at the same time would be foolish. So I'll teach you something easy yet useful. But be warned, as it only works up close, as fist techniques usually do now that I think about it, and to an enemy that is underestimating you or straight up not expecting an attack. ”
Ahmad relaxed his arms, exhaled, and suddenly punched the air in front of him at the height of his abdomen, the force sending a gale towards Yi. He then launched a powerful uppercut which created enough air pressure to create a small dust storm around him.
“It goes like this: you punch them in the stomach with your weaker arm, not full power, but enough force to make them lean their head forward.” He spoke before the dust cloud had settled down. “Then you throw a full power uppercut with your other hand right into their chin. If it goes well, you’ll knock them right out. Easy right?”
Lian Yi blinked before tightening her hold on the guan dao as she stared at the dust cloud. She wasn’t sure what she expected when he said he’d teach her a simple fist technique, but this wasn’t it. The sheer force behind the blow was enough to make the ground tremble under her feet.
“That… doesn’t exactly look easy,” she muttered, her voice tinged with a mix of awe and doubt. “You just turned the ground into a dust storm with a single punch.”
“Don’t worry, you won’t be punching hard enough to make a scene like that for at least a decade. The point is the technique, I only used so much strength so you'll pay attention. Kids like flashy things”
Ahmad smirked, though he was covered in dust, he made no effort to brush it off. “Relax. You won’t be punching hard enough to stir up anything like that for at least a couple of years. The point is the technique, I just used a bit of extra strength to make sure you’d pay attention. Kids like flashy things”
She frowned, skepticism and irritation flickering on her face being called a kid. “You make it sound easy, but I’m not even sure I can pull it off without snapping my own wrist.”
“Of course you can,” Ahmad replied, his tone light but firm. “You’ve been training the guan dao, but also your body. By now, you can swing that thing like it’s an extension of your arm. Throwing a punch is kind of similar? Okay not really but it's easy trust me. Just make the fist correctly, focus your strength properly, and don’t flail around like a scared cat.”
She raised an eyebrow. “You make it sound like I’ve been punching wrong my whole life.”
“Well, you have,” Ahmad said bluntly. “Almost everyone does, if throwing a punch was so easy people wouldn't be using weapons would they now? Nobody gets it right the first time, or the next, or maybe ever. Anyway, just put that thing away and do what I did.”
She raised her eyebrow even higher. “Did you forget you were the one who told me to figure things out on my own instead of copying others?”
“Ah, yes, the wisdom of past me, so inspiring, so profound,” he said mockingly. “But here’s the thing, past me wasn’t dealing with a student who’s about to complain about breaking her wrist from a single punch. Present me, however, has to adapt.” After finishing, he lifted his right hand up and clenched his fist majestically.
Lian Yi folded her arms and gave him a flat look. “So you’re just going to ignore your own words because it’s inconvenient?”
“Exactly,” he replied with a mock serious nod. “Adaptability is the hallmark of a great teacher. Besides, if you copy me just this once it won’t kill you.”
“I thought the point was to find my own way,” she countered, while her tone got sharper but not aggressive.
“And you will,” Ahmad said simply. “But even a bird has to watch another bird fly before it jumps out of the nest. So, think of this as me flapping my wings for you. You can still fall on your face afterward, but at least you'll know what not failing looks like.”
Ahmad continued before she could respond. “Now stop nitpicking, copy me, fail a bit, and then eventually do it better than me. That’s the whole idea, isn’t it? That’s what you’ve been asking me to do since day one, right?”
She sighed before setting her guan dao carefully to the side. “You have a strange way of making sense,” she said before stepping forward to mimic his earlier stance.
Right as she did, he walked in front of her, puffed his chest out and poked his head forward and up, exposing his chin in an exaggerated way. “Give me your best shot.”
Lian Yi stepped forward until she was as close as humanly possible while still having enough space to attack, she drew a breath and steadied her footing. Her brows furrowed, and her knuckles whitened as she clenched her fists tighter. Ahmad remained in front of her, his chest puffed out and chin thrust forward, the very image of cocky nonchalance.
“Let’s see it,” he pushed his chin even more forward, all in all he looked comical. “Do it well once. That’s all I’m asking.”
Her left fist came first she drove it right into his paunch, yet weirdly sturdy stomach, with all the strength she could muster. She knew that wasn't what she was supposed to be doing, but she really wanted to punch something. But even though she used her full strength Ahmad didn't flinch, if he felt the impact he didn’t show it.
“For your sake I'm going to assume that wasn't your full strength considering I told you not to use all of it. Now continue.”
Frustration boiled over as her as she corrected her stance, after getting into position, she channeled every ounce of her ki to her right hand. She aimed straight for his unnaturally exposed chin. Her fist was fast, perhaps too fast considering her thumb was stuck inside of it.
Ahmad noticed her mistake but didn’t move. He simply let her strike come. He knew what was about to happen, and he could have stopped her, but decided not to. The injury would not be serious enough to interrupt her training, yet as a lesson it was invaluable, at least in his mind it was.
Her fist smashed into the bottom of his jaw with a satisfying crack. For just a split second, she thought she’d gotten him, after the impact she saw his head tilt ever so slightly upward. But the victory, if one can even call it that, was fleeting. Pain shot through her hand as if lightning had hit her thumb. The crack hadn’t come from Ahmad’s jaw, it had come from her own hand.
As the sharp pain shot through her hand, Lian Yi let out a strangled gasp that turned into a high pitched yelp. Her first instinct was to grab her injured hand, but the moment she touched it the pain flared even more intensely, forcing her to recoil with a sharp cry.
“Ow, ow, ow!” she shouted while clutching her right hand to her chest, tears coming out at the corners of her eyes. She doubled over but didn’t fall to her knees and quickly but carefully cradled her right hand. Her voice, strained and trembling, carried nothing but agony. “What is wrong with you?!”
Ahmad raised an eyebrow while rubbing his jaw with exaggerated slowness. “What’s wrong with me?” he asked as if it was a serious question. “A lot but that’s beside the point. You’re the one who just broke her thumb.”
Yi’s face twisted with anger and pain as she glared at him. “You knew that was going to happen! You just stood there!”
He shrugged. “You’re speaking in anger, and yet you’re correct.”
“Why didn’t you stop me?!” she demanded while shaking her injured hand as though it might help. The movement only made the pain worse, making her wince back to her earlier position.
“Because you wouldn’t have learned,” Ahmad said and crouched down to her eye level. His tone losing its teasing edge, instead it was filled with a steadier, comforting tone. “You’re angry now, but tell me, will you ever throw another punch like that?”
She gritted her teeth, hot tears spilling over her face. “No,” she replied. “But—”
“Exactly,” he interrupted. “Pain sticks. Better a broken thumb now than a shattered hand in battle.”
She glared at him, unsure whether she hated him or begrudgingly understood his point. The pain was sharp, throbbing, relentless,
“Now don’t be a crybaby and give it here,” Ahmad said, simultaneously holding out his hand expectantly. When she wavered, he gave her a weird look. “Now come on and let me set it before it heals wrong. You don’t want to be known as Yi Sichuan's crooked thumb, now do you?”
After a moment of hesitation, she extended her hand. And while he worked, she just sat silently, biting down on her tongue to hold back a stream of curses, or at least to her they were. Someone of her status rarely if ever experiences actual insults.
Ahmad carefully examined her hand, his fingers moving with practiced ease, before giving a satisfied nod. “You’re lucky. It’s a clean break. Hurts like hell now, but it’ll heal fine on its own. You’ll be back to punching my face in no time.”
“Good punch though, your ki control is impressive” he added casually.
Lian Yi snorted despite herself before wiping her face with her still healthy left hand. “You’re insane.”
“Meh, I’ve heard worse,” he said with a shrug. “Anyway, since you can’t do anything physical for a bit, go rest and circulate your ki. We’ll stay here until you’re healed. After that…” His voice took on a light, almost playful tone. “We’re visiting the Frogs.”
“The Frogs?” she repeated curiously while setting herself straight.
“The Tangs,” he said with a smile, still completely covered in dust. “Until then, focus on healing. You’ll need both hands, trust me on that.”