* * *

"Get out, you ragamuffin!" came an angry voice.

The gates of the manor where Blacksmith Gong lived had not even opened. Xing looked at his clothes, but nothing was loose or torn, and he was still dressed properly. It seemed, even in the middle of nowhere the concept of decent clothing was very different from that of the countryside.

Xing shrugged his shoulders and knocked on the gate again. He had plenty of time because he no longer had to work in the fields or at the forge from morning to night. He knew exactly what to do in his spare time and was never bored. After the third time, the gate opened, and Xing jumped back before he could even tell them his name or that he had come to be an apprentice. The point of a spear struck the spot where he had been standing a moment earlier. If not for Xing's agility, it could have wounded or killed him. With a final glint of its tip, the spear was gone, the gate slammed shut, and the deadbolt rattled on the other side.

Xing decided to knock again, but his qi vision told him that a guard was climbing the wall, about to either throw a spear or fire a bow.

A prudent man always knows when to retreat, he thought and ran off toward the Forest of a Dozen Steps. No one chased him. Xing easily obtained food by picking herbs and collecting grubs and then managed to feast on the food by knocking down an overconfident crow with a stone.

* * *

The next day, he came again. Again, he announces his desire to become an apprentice of the famous blacksmith Gong Buntao. Once again, an attack followed, this time not only with a spear but also with several arrows, two of which Xing caught in mid-air. He was certainly a reasonable man, but it would be foolish to come all this way and walk away. Besides, he wasn't risking anything, and the fact that someone living in the forest would find him unbearable and ill-mannered was something Xing could live with.

Regularly, as he had once done in the field, he approached the gate, amplified his voice with qi, and announced his desire to become a disciple. When the inevitable attack came, he would repel it and then retreat towards the forest, where he would train, forage for food, and wash in a deep stream.

If the blacksmith or his men went anywhere, he would throw himself at the horses' feet, escape the attacks of the furious guards again, and return to the edge of the forest. The Blacksmith Buntao could afford a very good guard, whose blows were no match for the pitifully helpless attacks of the brigands. These guards possessed, albeit only a little, even qi! So Xing used their kind of services to train. This angered them immensely, and while at first, they held back, trying to intimidate and drive them away, in time they began to beat him with full force.

The trio of guards were particularly angry when he snuck in, joining a lavish procession of some important guest who had come to the blacksmith to order weapons - then all three chased Xing, leaving the blacksmith defenseless, all the way to the edge of the forest.

As time went on, Xing began to diversify his requests. The shouting and knocking at the gate had become commonplace, so he began throwing stones wrapped in broad burdock leaves on which he had written in calligraphy using the juice of the berries to ask for apprenticeship. To keep the blacksmith and the guards from getting bored, he threw logs of trees he had piled over the wall and burned the messages with qi.

Only the carp that perseveres in trying time after time will be able to climb the waterfall.

* * *

Time stretched into a familiar routine. Xing pestered the blacksmith and the guards, ran away, practiced, and peered cautiously into the depths of the Forest no deeper than a dozen paces. He would get food and sleep, sprawled on the ground or on a bed of twigs and brushwood, as he had once done when he hiking with his master. And the next day, he would start all over again. He didn't count the days because the time spent here was not wasted - the qi of nature in the area was very dense, so he could train perfectly without anyone distracting him. Time flew by quickly as the hot summer turned to autumn, the nights grew colder, and the leaves on the trees turned yellow and purple. Xing was already thinking of preparing for winter and planning a foray into the depths of the forest, but suddenly, the gates of the manor opened, and the blacksmith Gong Buntao himself came out to the road.

"Xing Duo!" He shouted. "You are persistent and persevering. This is one of the qualities of a true blacksmith, so I am willing to listen to your request!"

Xing rejoiced, stopped hiding his qi, and jumped out of his hiding place a few steps away from Buntao. The blacksmith flinched.

"How did you manage... Ahem!"

Xing, who'd missed socializing during the wait, wanted to talk about the bastard master whose qi gaze had seen everything in the neighborhood and how he'd tried to hide from that gaze. To escape and eat something. About trying to escape the endless torment that his past life had turned into. After becoming Feng, he practiced every day, perfecting his ways of hiding from other people's gazes. But it would be foolish to spill this train of thought to his future mentor, for then the chance of never getting that mentor would be greatly increased.

"This unworthy Xing Duo asks you, honorable Master Gong Buntao, to take him on as a disciple," he said, bowing at the waist. "Try my skill!"

The blacksmith's gaze softened, and he made a gesture with his hand, inviting him inside. Master Buntao led him into the smithy, a large room filled not only with the usual bellows and anvil but also with many devices and appliances that Xing had no idea what they were for.

"You said "skill," the blacksmith grumbled. "That's a serious word, and it's not something you just throw around. Show me what you can do. You can use anything you see."

Xing nodded, gathered the tools he needed from the shelves and tables, walked to the crucible, and began pumping the bellows. He decided to demonstrate everything he had learned from Yi, keeping only his elemental skills to himself. The bellows hummed, the hammer clattered, and soon Xing held out the blade of a long knife to the blacksmith, which only needed a hilt and scabbard to complete.

"Not bad. You're persistent and diligent, and you know the basics," Buntao admitted. "But it is not enough. A lot of respectable families send their heirs to me, but I've turned them all down. And if I take you now, people will start asking, what did the blacksmith Gong find in this child? And I don't have the answer to that question."

Xing frowned. It seemed by clinging to his pathetic secrets, he had cut off his path to an apprenticeship. He should have shown what he could do right away, and maybe then.....

"I'd really like to help you find that answer," he said. "I can try again..."

"No need!" cut the blacksmith short. "I've already seen the main point, and you can't change my mind. And I'm not interested in your skills because if you could do anything to impress me, you wouldn't need a tutor. I'm interested in your talents!"

Xing's ears perked up. It didn't sound like a rejection, but rather a new challenge. It was more like a new challenge, one of those tasks that almost every hero was given by his mysterious mentor, subjecting him to a host of deadly threats.

"Bring me a branch of Purple Oak and Rainbow Iron ore from the Forest of a Dozen Steps," the blacksmith did not disappoint, "make a hammer out of them, and then I will take you on as my apprentice, I give you my word!"

"I'll get it, Master Buntao," Xing bowed.

* * *

The Forest of a Dozen Steps wasn't as scary as the guard said, but it wasn't as harmless as even the most foolish would call it. The abundance of qi in the forest caused changes in the bushes and trees, making the beasts and birds stronger, more resilient, and, therefore, more dangerous. A dozen Steps proved to be an exaggeration the first time someone tried to eat him only on the fourth or fifth dozen. Xing spent about a month every day in the forest, studying the paths and habits of the beasts, looking for anything resembling a purple oak among the trees, but he found nothing. There were plenty of purple trees, and he found many oaks, but none of them differed from the usual ones, except for a slightly stronger qi. Only after almost despairing and reaching the center of the forest did Xing find a huge, mighty giant, distinguished by its rich red bark and the dark purple hue of its rounded leaves. Only such a tree could be that Purple Oak. Xing shrieked with joy, and it seemed to be louder than it should have been.

A long, skittish body of a horse-sized scaly creature with two tails and a powerful, strongly extended toothy jaw emerged from the bushes. As with the river monster and the wolf leader, Xing felt nothing, only being able to dodge, thanks to his alertness and readiness to repel the attack. In the forest, Qi's eyesight was already failing frequently, as the abundance of natural energy hid any wildlife. This was what made the forest such a great place for training.

Xing didn't engage in battle, relying on the speed of his legs and the power of his qi. He ran with his heels blazing, transforming his qi into Fire to put up a fire barrier or Tree to block and obstruct the pursuer's path. If it wasn't for the wolf skin clothes, Xing would have been left naked as he made his way through the bushes, tree crowns, and dense undergrowth. But as it was, he had to endure many branches with leaves as sharp as the best knives whipping at his face.

The creature was very stubborn and chased him almost to the edge of the forest, and only when it came across the border, marked by a string of pillars filled with strong qi, finally fell behind.

Xing made his next attempt the next day. Carefully hiding his energy and straining his senses to the limit, he reached the oak tree without encountering a single forest creature. The problem came where he hadn't expected it to: the tree wasn't going to give in to his efforts. No matter how hard he tried. No matter how he strengthened his hands with chi, he could not break off even a small twig, not even enough for a flyswatter, let alone the hilt of a hammer! His fiddling attracted another creature, this time something big and furry but with an equally huge mouth. So Xing had to run again, looping around and making it difficult for one pursuer and then for a pack of different beasts to get away. Once again, when he reached the edge of the forest, it was as if the pursuit had been cut off with a knife.

Going to Master Buntao was a sign of failure. Xing had enough money, so he ran to Zhumen and equipped himself. And on his next trip to Oak, he picked up an axe made of the best iron he could buy in this not-so-small town. The result exceeded all expectations.

The axe forged by the city's best blacksmith, Zhumen, "almost the same as Buntao's, only cheaper," came down on the branch with all the force of Xing's qi-enhanced hands. The sounds of the blows echoed throughout the forest. And when the hilt finally failed and cracked, the blade was so dull that it should have been forged into a new one instead of sharpened. A dozen beasts, their furry, muscular bodies glowing with energy, took the knock as an invitation to a delicious meal. Fortunately, the beasts could not climb trees. Unfortunately, the oak stood in the center of the large clearing as if to keep out other trees and bushes, which meant that Xing couldn't escape by jumping from branch to branch. Xing had to hide in the Oak tree, having a serious fight with two raven-like birds, but much bigger and fiercer. Xing only by some miracle got the upper hand and remained unharmed. The razor-sharp beaks could not pierce the skin of the wolf leader. And he did not feel himself victorious, being battered and covered from head to toe with acrid bird droppings. Fortunately, the fight with the birds had interested the beasts enough to gather on one side of the tree so that Xing could break through and escape.

The next day, he returned more prepared. So he wouldn't have to spend the whole night washing his trusty wolf armor, he put on another layer of clothes made from the skins of killed forest animals. More birds were waiting in the oak tree, but this time, in addition to his new axe, Xing had also brought his spear. The fight was brief, and the length of the weapon helped a lot, so soon, he was able to make another attempt to get a branch. Again the clatter of the axe attracted a new beast, but Xing only stuck his butt out at them and slapped his buttocks a few times. Whether the beasts in the Forest of a Dozen Steps were smarter than their normal relatives or just reacted to the movement of their unreachable prey, they roared loudly when they saw the taunt.

Expectedly, the second axe didn't damage wood either. Xing tried to strengthen it with qi to increase its strength and sharpness. But the tool didn't last long. After a few blows, the blade, unable to contain his energy, split apart at the next blow, leaving a shallow scratch on the branch, which also healed right before his eyes. It turned out that the plan to bring a thousand axes and fill them with qi until the branch was cut off was completely untenable. And all the other methods Xing could think of could not produce any results.

The feelings of anger, hopelessness, and despair were so overwhelming that Xing cracked his forehead against the trunk without thinking to clear his head with pain. He submitted his Qi completely unconsciously, as he had already done it every day for several years. And indeed, he had succeeded. The pain sobered him up. It left a shallow indentation on the trunk that could withstand the sharpest metal, but it did not straighten immediately. Xing rejoiced. He put as much qi in his hands as he could and began to hammer on the unfortunate branch. Even though the result appeared, Xing quickly realized it would not work. His fists would leave dents, and he needed something sharp that could cut through the heavy-duty wood rather than trying to push it in.

"I have qi. That's enough," he said aloud to the prowling beast below.

He remembered his training with his master, what he had said about the right weapon, and how he could create a blade just from qi, but it would be much heavier. Xing grinned: it was exactly the kind of "heavier" he needed. After the fight with the brigands, he felt like a wizened carp who thought he could do anything. Now, reality had shown him the real limits of his strength. If he wanted to catch up with his master in more than a dozen dozen cycles, he would have to train even harder. Xing released qi from his finger, attempting to form a blade. The result was so pathetic that even the snarling beast below barked and laughed. Xing didn't get upset in the slightest. He saw another area in which his skills were insufficient and most importantly, a direction in which he could improve.

It took several days for the miserable, pointy blob of qi coming out of his hand to turn into something remotely resembling a sharp blade. Xing placed it against the branch and pounded it with his other hand like a hammer. The cut on the oak branch was deep enough for the purple resin to emerge, thick and seemingly desirable to the beasts circling below. The beasts howled and roared, and other individuals he had not seen before began to flock to the tree. And for whom the height of the tree did not seem to be an obstacle.

"Not so fast!" he shouted, greeting the first guest.

A hammer hand struck the nose of the flexible body that had jumped onto the oak, and a blade hand stabbed into its furry side. The creature, remotely resembling a tiger, had not expected this, so it flew downward, meowing shrilly. Xing glanced at the fleshy carcass with regret and began to chop the branch again, looking down and around.

To avoid wasting time, he settled on the branches of this oak tree, collecting rainwater and morning dew from the leaves. He made short forays to catch and eat, roasting without salt one of the beasts with a qi. But even so, the branch would not yield. It took a lot of qi to create and hold a blade of internal energy, so when it disintegrated, all he had to do was watch helplessly as the hard-won cut almost healed before his eyes. Xing tried the elemental transformations - Oak was resistant to Fire, Wood had little effect on it, and the other elements had no effect.

All Xing had to do was train to increase his strength and qi reserves, shit down from the branches to show the circling beasts whose territory it was, and brush his mouth and teeth with purple resin, which not only removed unpleasant plaque and freshened his breath, but also gave him strength.

Xing didn't count the number of times the beasts had climbed the tree, hoping to devour him. He learned to stay awake, replacing sleep with deep meditation, which restored his strength, gave him vigor, and, most importantly, allowed him to train and improve the circulation of internal energy. Xing even experienced the hope that he would soon make a breakthrough, advancing to the Qi Condensation stage and then onward to Foundation Establishment and Core Formation. But alas, no matter how much Qi he shoved into himself and no matter how much miraculous oak resin he ate, the bottleneck that had been extolled in so many books and crystals was never felt.

In time, the beasts recognized that the tree had a new master, a mighty beast that could not be eaten but rather could eat them. The beast fell behind and dispersed. Xing made occasional forays to find the Rainbow Iron, but he had no idea what it looked like or where to look for it. Just in case, he pounded some rocks with his fists and fought with the cave dwellers. He found some promising rocks and minerals with the help of qi, but nothing that could be Rainbow Iron.

Xing chopped down the hapless branch, so focused on the target that he almost forgot who he was and why he was doing it. He trained his qi, holding the blade longer each day and cutting deeper each day. He tried different variations, like spinning toothy disks of qi or fire blades. He insisted on using the remaining axes, filling them with qi and keeping them from disintegrating with the Metal element. He made more and more forays in search of the ill-fated Rainbow Iron, finding anything but it. He knew now that Master Buntao's task would be impossible. But now he didn't care.

For any of the heroes of the scroll or crystal, not to mention the master, it would take no more than a day to get a branch, and most of that time would be spent on traveling and searching. Come to think of it. They would bring the blacksmith not just some branch but the entire oak tree! Xing knew someday in the future, he would be able to do that too, but for now, his whole world was focused on a single goal: the depth of the cut in the unyielding wood, overgrown every time he was distracted or got some rest.

* * *

The ground was covered with the first snow, and the roadside puddles were covered with ice. Xing staggered through the snow to the blacksmith Buntao's house. He looked like a wild forest man: in beast skins, bloody, disheveled, with an endless weariness in his eyes. A huge basket behind his back, woven from the vines of the rarest and most valuable trees of the Forest, chosen for their strength and flexibility, was filled to the top with various stones. He was dragging a large branch of the Purple Oak, the leaves of which left a wide gash in the snow.

As soon as he reached the gate, there were cheers and shouts. Xing shook his head heavily. It had taken him three days of continuous exposure to cut this branch. He was very tired and angry. So if any of the guards decided to practice archery or spear stabbing, Xing would shove both the bow, spear and this oak branch up their ass.

The gate swung open hastily, the guards peering out from behind the flaps expressing nothing but amazement, and their qi showed no desire to attack.

The master himself came out of the gate. He walked over to Xing and gave Xing a glance.

Xing threw the basket off his shoulders and dropped it in front of Gong Buntao's feet with a resounding thud. The basket was followed by a branch.

"I didn't get the Rainbow Iron," Xing admitted. "But it is only a temporary hardships."

He was about to turn around and head into the forest again, even though it would be impolite to do so. But right now, Xing didn't give a damn about any etiquette. The only thing that stopped him was the fact that Master Buntao was leaning over his basket and going through the stones he had collected. Maybe Xing had found the Iron, but he just didn't know it.

"Amazing," the blacksmith finally said. "I didn't expect it."

"Did I get the Rainbow Iron after all?" Xing asked hopefully.

"What? No, of course not!" Master Buntao laughed. "You couldn't have gotten it. Just like you couldn't get the strongest oak wood in the entire Empire, no, in the entire world! It is usually obtained when the Purple Oak dies, but even then, it takes a whole troop of mighty warriors to defend against the beasts while the best woodcutters dull their axes full of qi against the wood. This is the first time I've seen a fresh branch. To be honest, I sent you on an impossible task so you would stop yelling every morning, disturbing the work, and distracting the guards."

"And the Rainbow Iron?" Xing asked resentfully. "Doesn't it even exist?"

"Why not? It exists!" replied the blacksmith. "But not in this forest. It is mined a dozen thousand miles away, and each bar is worth so much to merchants that I sometimes wonder if I'd have to sell my daughter for it! You bring many interesting things, but not Rainbow Iron."

In addition to resenting the blacksmith, Xing felt angry with himself. What would it have taken to go to Zhumen's library, ask around at the markets, and find out what he needed to know first instead of running around the forest like a fool picking up "interesting" but unsuitable stones?

"Then I'll go!" Xing said, turning around to walk away.

"Where to?" wondered the blacksmith.

"If Rainbow Iron exists, it means it can be mined, which means I can fulfill your quest!"

"Oh, you mean this? Don't worry. I've got a couple of ingots for now. It's a bit tricky to work with and requires special techniques, so you'll have to sweat a lot until you learn how to work with it as well as the other metals. So I hope you will be as persistent in your studies as you were with that oak branch."

"Studying?" Xing was surprised. "That means..."

"What? Oh, yes! Of course, you're accepted!"

* * *

Blacksmith Gong stroked his neatly manicured beard in puzzlement. It was not a source of pride but still a demonstration of his skill and dexterity, for there were no scorch marks or other traces of blacksmithing in his beard.

"Is there something wrong, Master Gong?" Xing asked, noticing his Master's puzzled look.

"That's right, your creation is flawless," he replied, "as one would expect from the best of my students. It is rare to find such tenacity and power at such a young age. But you have proven yourself worthy to learn from me!"

Xing's face remained calm, but a storm of memories stirred inside. Two years of hard, grueling work trying to make qi affect metal, bone, leather, and wood in specific ways. Constant forays into the forest not only to find materials: animal skins and bones, stones, minerals, ores, and a dozen varieties of wood but also to train qi in the heart of the thicket. Xing's notion that being a blacksmith meant forging metal was completely false, and he had to learn the trades of both furrier and carpenter, for armor made from the skins of local beasts would often put any metal to shame, and even a master craftsman from the capital could not cope with the wooden parts of armor and weapons. Xing rarely slept, preferring to run away into the forest and meditate, doing his best to develop his qi to the highest possible level.

Alas, he lacked the talent, so he never reached the next cultivation steps. There were no Bottle Necks, Breakthroughs, or Heavenly Retribution, which meant that all Xing had to do was refine the basics, strengthening his qi and perfecting his control.

You have become dear to all of us, Xing, like another member of the family. And with this creation, you have shown that you are ready to be the true heir to my skill! But for the sake of all the gods, why the flail?

"A useful thing in life, Master," Xing replied calmly, though the claws of a frost phoenix were clawing at his soul, "a good flail will always come in handy when traveling."

Blacksmith Gong had fully fulfilled his duties as a mentor, taking him on as an apprentice in more than just words. Xing didn't have to sweat for years on auxiliary jobs, trying to observe and understand the forging process, snatching crumbs of knowledge. Gong Buntao showed him the intricacies of working with the metal and beast parts that Xing had obtained and for which, in addition to the thick qi, the blacksmith had settled here. It had been two good years of mutually beneficial cooperation, for if one were to gather all the beasts and minerals that Xing had gathered, the blacksmith would really have to sell his daughter Jie. Not only that, he would have to have three more daughters to do so!

Now, at the end of these years, Xing had learned how to forge a dozen basic weapons and two dozen auxiliary weapons, even learning how to fight with them. After all, a blacksmith who can't figure out whether a saber or a guan dao is off-balance and whether a warrior will be comfortable chopping and stabbing is a bad one. Xing reconciled and then built up a relationship with a trio of guards who, although they had not achieved great success in qi cultivation, were experienced and knew exactly which end to use for a sword or spear.

Now, Xing could easily provide for himself for the rest of his life if he needed to. A good weapon was always valued, and a weapon that could transmit qi without being destroyed was valued a dozen times more, and sometimes a dozen dozen times more! Master Buntao might still have his secrets, but he could only learn them by spending another full cycle of years and gaining thousands and dozens of thousands of repetitions of his own experience. He would grow up, acquire the same powerful muscles and strong qi as the master, and become a blacksmith, perhaps the best in the province, the Empire, or even the world. But was this the result Xing Xing was striving for? Was it the waterfall this fry dreamed of? Was it the obstacle that the future carp should climb?

Yes, he forged Star Iron and made it into Star Steel. He got a new branch of Purple Oak and made himself this flail. But he never learned how to make spatial rings because the master, so focused on his blacksmithing, had never even heard of them. He could not make talismans either, and Xing's experiments, despite the abundance of the finest materials, ended in nothing. He achieved only a short-term effect, and then the qi simply disappeared into nothing. Xing lacked knowledge, and knowledge was not something that could be found in the vicinity of Zhumen, let alone in the forest, whether it was the Dozens or the Ten Thousand Steps. By staying here and perfecting his blacksmithing skills, Xing might have been able to surpass his master. But only in one narrow area, hopelessly losing in all others. What the Indomitable Dragon Martial Strategies called "winning a small battle while losing a big war."

The pause was dragging on. Xing slowly became nervous. The master remained silent, staring at him with his black eyes. And his calm, emotionless qi gave him no reason to be calm.

"Wanderings?" The blacksmith finally interjected, touching his hand to his beard again.

"So I passed the exam, Master?" Xing asked.

"You made the weapon, yes," Gong replied evasively, and Xing became even more wary.

The blacksmith always spoke bluntly, without pity, as if he were hitting a billet with a hammer, and such evasiveness could only be due to one thing. Xing reached out with his senses to a second powerful source of qi a little farther away, in one of the living rooms - Jie Buntao, Gong's daughter. Fortunately, the latter was not yet able to control herself as well as her father. As if sensing his attention, the source moved.

"But that, apprentice, is not yet ...."

"So I passed the exam, Master," Xing interrupted him, grabbing the flail in one swift motion.

"Yes, but..."

"Goodbye then, I wish you the very best! Hug Jie for me!"

Xing did not rush to the door, where the blacksmith's daughter was already waiting, but sent his qi to his feet and ascended to the second tier of the forge, where the open windows not only let out the smoke that had not escaped into the chimney but also let in the fresh air. Fresh, sweet, and tantalizing air of freedom!

Xing had known for a long time that he had made a mistake. Jie was very attractive despite her dozen years of age difference and strong muscles, and Xing felt so lost and lonely. He longed so much for his Mei, who had abandoned him to the demonic promises of the bastard master, that he had let his guard down, getting closer to her than an apprentice should to his mentor's daughter. Jie, who was looking at the precocious, handsome man and her father's apprentice with ravenous, hungry eyes, decided that Xing was the one for her. And that only Xing's bellows were worthy to blow her horn and only his hammer to drop on her anvil.

Xing couldn't say there was anything he didn't like about Jie. On the contrary, he thought she was intelligent, interesting, and had qualities he valued very much. Except... Only... Only Jie wasn't Mei. He was even grateful to Jie because, with her help, Xing realized the power of his inner demons and realized how much his spirit still longed for Mei, which meant the balance in the Great Triad was severely disturbed. Except, trying to restore balance by compensating the torment of the spirit with the pleasures of the body would have too many irreversible consequences. But Jie decided there was more than just companionship between them, and Master Gong was willing to do absolutely anything when it came to his daughter.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

"Stop right there, you bastard!"

Xing ducked out through the narrow window, flew down from the second story, slid across the stone slabs of the courtyard, and rolled over. He dodged the grip of such a powerful and so gentle hand, remembering to admire the grace and strength of his daughter, who was not much inferior to her father, and sent her an air kiss.

"Jie! I will remember you forever!" He shouted cheerfully and resorted to the most refined of his skills, that is, running.

Having escaped the attack of the misunderstood guards on the way, Xing ran lightning fast to the double-bolted gate and jumped, pushing off with his foot and flying above the considerable fence, then rushed down the road, raising a column of dust.

"Come back!" Jie cried out.

"Get the thief! Bandit!" Gong's voice boomed.

"He stole the most valuable thing!" Jie echoed her father's words. "My heart!"

Xing rushed over, staring at the weapon clutched in his hand with frustration. It would be foolish to go back to gather the belongings he had accumulated over the past two years. All he had left was a handmade flail and clothes made from the skins of the forest dwellers. He had some decent clothes, of course, but they had been left behind at the blacksmith's manor. The garment had many advantages. For example, it could not be burned by the fire of the forge or the spray of molten metal, but the shaggy fur was not beautiful, and Xing looked like a savage and a ragamuffin in it.

He could still go back to get his things, but... He couldn't fight with someone who had taught him for two years and someone he was having such a great time with! Of the two options, fight or marry, Xing chose the third. And this time, it wasn't a staid, dignity-filled departure like he had with his home village, but a shameful, desperate flight. However, the Indomitable Dragon Martial Strategies had something to say about it as well: //"It is not dishonorable to retreat in time, but only to perish senselessly. Xing was not going to let his ambitions die.

Even though he had become Gong Buntao's disciple and even completed his training, he couldn't announce it publicly now. After all, his mentor had never handed him a jade tablet with his qi imprint, and no one in the world would believe a fourteen-year-old brat's word, even if he looked like seventeen. The blacksmith would hardly tell anyone that the apprentice had run away without marrying his daughter but would probably accuse him of stealing some valuables, of which there were plenty in his estate. This was very unpleasant. Xing was looking for glory, but not like this. Maybe he should wait until his mentor had given up on the foolish idea of marriage, come to his senses, and send a letter of apology.

Xing pondered right as he ran, carefully hiding his qi so he wouldn't be tracked by the blacksmith, the guards, or his daughter. He had been improving his skills, of course, but who knows, maybe they weren't sitting idle either. He wanted to praise himself for his foresight. After buying the axes in Joumain and before going to the Oak, he had buried his money in a nice, secluded clearing not far from the road and had never bothered to dig it up. Or to curse himself. He knew Jie's desires and Gong's intentions, but he had not prepared for his escape.

After making a few loops to disrupt possible trackers, running through tree branches, and walking upstream of a deep stream, Xing made a detour through the Forest, where he released a cloud of specially transformed qi so attractive to forest dwellers. In his two years of trekking in the forest, he had come up with quite a few tricks, but now he was using this ridiculous sort of technique, not to get food quickly or to draw strong creatures aside without having to fight them but to throw the chase off the trail.

Xing pondered over the next route, weighing his options. One thing he knew for sure was that he could not go to Zhumen! After all, he would have to challenge not Heaven but the city guards and then the Emperor's garrison.

Running up to the coveted clearing, Xing frowned. He didn't expect to see even a single traveler, much less multiple lights of strong qi. It wasn't that the clearing was inconvenient to reach from the road, but no one in their right mind would stop here at the edge of the forest. After all, it would have taken a few more hours to get there, and the traveler would have spent the night under the protection of the walls of Zhumen. The pranks of Buntao's mentor and his daughter? If he had so many soldiers, Xing would never have been able to escape. A new customer who hadn't gotten to the blacksmith yet? Then again, there was no point in stopping here, just a stone's throw away from the target, and if a cartwheel broke, for example, it couldn't be repaired on the road. Blacksmith Gong had a lot of connections, and he could make Xing's life very unhappy, but no one would arrive so quickly, and they wouldn't ambush him here.

I have to figure this out, Xing decided and moved determinedly toward the clearing.

He remembered there must be a small forest stream with clay banks. It was easy to find, so Xing smeared mud on his face, covered his clothes with clay, and covered himself in fallen leaves. He could not be seen in such a disguise, of course, because people would mistake him for a forest beast, but he did not want to expose himself to possible enemies. He muted his qi even more and crept toward the clearing without crunching a single twig.

He dropped to the grass and, merging with the terrain with the help of the Earth element, crawled almost to the edge of the thickets that framed the clearing. He sharpened his vision and hearing to the utmost and peered out of the bushes.

"...Buntao is not that simple! Do you know who orders weapons from him?"

"Don't worry, Mr. Fu! Whoever it is is no more influential than our family!"

"Yours! That's right, your family! Not mine! If all is revealed..."

"It won't! After all, you promised to take care of it personally. Or is there something wrong with the seal?"

"No, no, it's okay! It's a real seal! But if you knew what it cost me to distract the Second Jasper Judge and get into his office for a little while!"

"Now that, Mr. Foo, sounds like a real conversation! How much? We are prepared to compensate you generously for your hard work. But be warned, we already give you a lot. And excessive greed entails excessive, albeit very short-lived, sorrow."

There was a rustle of cloth and the distinctive quiet clinking of coins that could not be confused with the clanking of metal. Xing crept a little closer, relying on his disguise, though if one of the men in the clearing took a dozen steps, he would step on his head. Xing had seen the fat man dressed as a city government official several times in Zhumen's restaurants, and he had been suspicious even then. After all, a man who mixes Mountain Duck in cabbage gravy with turquoise trout from the Purple Mountains during a meal can't help but be a scumbag!

The warriors accompanying the official's carriage looked neither like city guards nor like the Emperor's soldiers nor even like hired guards. Good horses, armor, excellent expensive weapons, and banners with emblems gave away their belonging to a noble family. These emblems, as well as the colors of clothing, were familiar not even because Han Nao had memorized the main families of the Empire from childhood.

Gao! The despicable, despicable Gao, the house that had repeatedly crossed the path of Han's father, General Guang Nao. These dishonorable scoundrels had repeatedly tried to take advantage of the general's fame and victories, schemed against him, and constantly tried to badmouth him in front of the Emperor. Han didn't know the details, as his father always used profanity at the mention of them, but there was no doubt about the lowliness and dishonor of this unworthy family. Han Nao knew that they lived in another province, and he thought he was unlikely to cross paths with them even once in his life. And he was right, for fate brought them together only after his death.

Feelings were bubbling up. Xing had to submerge himself to keep from being exposed by a flash of qi, a grit of teeth, or a crunch of fists. Even though he hadn't met any Gao before this day, it didn't stop him from hating them with all his soul.

"Yes, the seal is fine," Fu confirmed, caressing the weighty silk pouch with his fingers. "But..."

"No buts!" Gao, the best-dressed and most richly dressed, replied sharply to the fat man. "Respected Fu, shall I remind you how many young peasant girls my clan delivered to you? Or who exactly disposed of the bodies after your entertainment?"

"Be quiet!" Fu turned pale. "Not here! Not out loud! If anyone finds out that I betray the Emperor, I will be refreshed and salted for five dozen days! The best healers will not let me die! And you will all be there for me!"

"Don't worry," his companion laughed. "My warriors and I control the territory. There's no one around here for two miles, not even large animals, so there is no need to waste the Silence Talismans. Or would you prefer that I deduct their cost from our clan's gratitude to you, Honorable Fu?"

"No, no, I have full confidence in the Gao clan," Fu hastily assured him. "How can you doubt one of the pillars of our Empire? But you understand, this is a very delicate matter....."

"Of course, but that's why we needed the services of such a wise and learned man as you, Mr. Fu."

"I'm not entirely sure it's going to work."

"And for nothing. The blacksmith has himself to blame. Who else but you should know the importance of proper document handling."

"Absolutely!" Fu exclaimed fervently. "Many people call us officials ink souls and think we do nothing but waste paper and ink and receive our salaries for nothing. But we, not the army, are the backbone of the whole Empire!"

"You're quite right, Mr. Fu. Instead of swinging the hammer, Gong Buntao should have paid more attention to counting and proper filing. Now that all these years have passed, let him reap the fruits of his foolishness!"

"Are you sure he can't prove repayment of the debt?"

"I'm pretty sure. He paid for the materials to our clerk, but he only signed our copy of the deferred payment receipt. There were no witnesses other than members of the Gao Clan. And the interest accrued over the years can't pay the entire merchant house!"

"But Gong Buntao is rich! He forged a sword for the Viceroy himself! What if he pays his debt after all?"

"Don't forget, Mr. Fu, we're talking about the value of nine dragon scales! Besides, even if he pays it back, what's the harm?" Gao laughed. "After all, the twelfth part of the entire sum with interest will be yours!"

"He has many patrons," the fat man did not give up.

"...who can't do anything," Gao continued smiling. "We have the contract certified by the imperial administration. The late payment penalty and the interest on the late payment are also completely real. He didn't ask for a receipt of repayment, and there were no witnesses. We are in our right! We only need the seal scroll to get him to come with us without resistance."

"What if he still resists? Gong Buntao is a man famous for his qi power! He also has skillful guards! What if he comes at you, takes the treaty with his signature, and destroys you before your soldiers can stop him?"

"That, dear Fu, is precisely why we need you. For then, you will not only be able to swear in the name of the Emperor that you have witnessed such an atrocity but also to confirm the truth of the destroyed treaty, which you, not the last person in Zhumen, have studied very carefully. You can even do this under the influence of the talisman of truth, for you need not lie, only omit unimportant details. Of course, we'll double the reward."

"But still, what if....."

"Dear Mr. Fu!" Gao cut the official off harshly. "A little more, and I have the feeling that you are stalling and do not want to fulfill your part of our deal."

"No, of course not!" exclaimed the fat man. "My word is the strongest in all of Zhumen!"

"You see, you've done nothing wrong and are completely clean. The rest is between Gao's house and the blacksmith Buntao. Don't worry, once he enters our grounds, you'll never see him again. He'll never be able to work off his debt there. Besides, he has an unmarried daughter, and there are enough men in the side branches of our house. Once she becomes Gao's wife or concubine, he will have no choice."

Once, listening to his father, Han Nao had thought that General Guang, who had allowed hatred and resentment to take hold of his heart, was exaggerating the Gao Clan's atrocities. Now Xing realized how cheerful and naive he had been, for even his father had not known the depths of this despicable family's baseness!

The brazenness and unscrupulousness of this atrocity brought a bloody haze to his eyes. It was not some kind of cheating or deception. No, it was a violation of the Emperor's own will and an attempt at enslavement - which was also a subversion of the age-old laws of the Empire.

And though Gao, assured of safety and seclusion, spills the details of their nefarious schemes like a villain from a crystal or a scroll, the question remained, "What to do?" As much as Xing resented his mentor, Buntao, and Jie, all they were guilty of was that the blacksmith recognized in his apprentice an outstanding, once-in-a-generation, nay, a dozen generations talent, and his daughter could not resist Xing's incomparable charm and fell head over heels in love with him. Xing didn't want to get married, but he wanted nothing but happiness and prosperity for Gong and Jie Buntao.

Whatever options Xing pondered, each was not without a bunch of drawbacks.

Crawl away, come back, warn the master? Even if he listened, it wouldn't solve the problem. Neither the master nor his daughter could hide qi well, and the chase had enough adepts, qi masters, and replacement horses to find their prey and chase them anywhere.

Run straight to Zhumen? He, a miserable commoner, would simply be given bamboo sticks at his heels for slandering a respected man in the city and a high noble family.

Just walk away, leaving the blacksmith to deal with the consequences of his actions? That's the worst! After such a despicable act, Xing should immediately give up on his dream of becoming a hero. Striving to surpass his master, too. Because then Xing would only surpass him in one thing: scoundrelly meanness.

But what could he do, a dirty savage in animal hide with only a flail in his hands? The Gao had an advantage not only in numbers, equipment, and strength, but they must have hidden many devious talismans, maybe even some artifacts! Xing has certainly trained hard all these years and no longer looks like a peasant from a village that the gods blow their nose at, but not yet a vile master, or better yet, an Impetuous Blade Bao. Those would rush at the enemy without a second thought, Bao Xiao to spread goodness and justice, and the despicable master to rob Fu and Gao of all their money.

And attacking an Imperial Official, if there were witnesses, would mean he, a simple peasant, had turned against the Empire. To swear in the name of the Emperor, to call the gods as witnesses, to demand a fair trial using talismans and interrogation techniques, he could only be Han Nao, not Xing Duo.

"Time is running out," Gao hurried the official, "and we've already been delayed."

"Okay, let's go," Fu replied doomily.

Time was really running out. There was an urgent need to do something, but there were no great ideas. Therefore, Xing once again turned to the wisdom of the Indomitable Dragon Martial Strategies: "To win against a pack of wolves, go to the tiger's den."

* * *

A lump of greasy, sticky clay hit the Fu official right in the face and dripped down, staining his official robes. A second piece, which Xing had removed from his hide with special care, smeared the eyes of Chief Gao.

"The traitor of the Empire Fu, and the worthless lowlifes Gao," Xing rumbled in a changed voice, "incapable of fair victories, only of lowliness and meanness!"

Xing was diligently channeling qi, causing the wind he had created to carry his words across the clearing. One of the Gao folded his hands into an intricate sign, and the bush where the speaker was supposedly located erupted in green fire.

"I saw and heard everything!" Xing shouted. "I have seen and heard how you betrayed the Empire and defiled the Emperor's name with your filthy tongues! You are the only one who can fight with your tongues! Talentless warriors, unable to hold a sword, only a poisoned dagger to plunge into the backs of those you licked at the heels of yesterday! You fight not on the battlefield but in palace bedrooms because even a dirty, cowardly pig is a model of purity and courage compared to you."

Xing was not good at insults, so he simply repeated his father's favorite expressions. It seemed that the hot words of General Guang, who walked from victory to victory, were still true even now, many years and cycles later. However, Xing was already convinced that Gao's destiny was not the battlefield.

He crept through the bushes, made his way out to a gap in the vegetation leading out to the road, opened his qi camouflage for a moment, and shouted:

"I will go to the Capital, go to the First Rank Judge, swear on the name of my family and the spirits of my ancestors! I will pass the Weighing of the Word and go to the Emperor's Court! Prepare yourselves, scoundrels, for a visit from the Imperial Shadow Interrogators!"

Xing knew that after saying that, the only thing left for the Gao clan to do was to either pursue him to the Nine Underworlds or experience the Nine Thousand Torment Execution. Unfortunately, there was a very simple solution to all the difficulties - killing Xing. So he dropped his disguise and aimed his qi to his feet.

A deafening explosion sounded behind him, and a poisonous purple cloud spread out to the sides.

"Idiots! How are we going to get through now?" shouted Gao. "Clear the air!"

Xing smiled, thanking the fools for the gift of a few moments, and sprinted down the road. He had put everything he had into running: years and years of running around the village, desperate vein-tearing training, and trying to survive in the Forest of a Dozen Steps.

The dastardly Gao did not give him another gift like the long-range barrier technique. Xing dodged a few more attacks when he noticed the mounted pursuit was lagging. That meant one thing: he had to take a chance and shorten the distance.

He pretended that he was beginning to slowly run out of breath. He grasped his side, breathing heavily and stumbling. Gao rewarded him with a good dozen devastating explosions. Fortunately, Xing could sense the direction of the qi and dodged sideways beforehand, pretending he wasn't killed by pure chance. The skins of the beasts of the forest were no worse than those used in the forge. They could withstand not only stone splinters but also the familiar green flames. Xing ran away carefully limping.

"He's hurt! Hurry up!" He heard it from behind.

A few fire techniques of no particular variety came out again, and Xing began to dash from side to side, moving steadily in a pre-selected direction.

"You won't escape!" There was an angry shout in the back.

Xing glanced back briefly and saw that the chase had stretched out. Official Fu, who had abandoned his carriage, was on horseback, but he was not used to it. He quickly ran out of breath and fell behind. Xing's hopes that the chase would split up to protect an important ally were in vain. Only two of Gao, whose qi glowed the faintest, remained to guard Fu, while the remaining dozen and a half continued the chase.

Gao drew their bows at a gallop and fired a hail of qi-blazing arrows at Xing. He laughed, raised his flail, and, without looking, swung it behind his back in short bursts, knocking away the ones that threatened to pierce his body.

"This is it!" - He thought as he saw the road emerge from the forest and round the side of a sheer cliff overhanging the forest thicket. Several techniques struck straight into the road, but to Xing's annoyance, they didn't destroy it. The talismanic pillars, designed to keep beasts out of the forest, seemed to protect it from collapses as well.

"Be careful, you fools!" Chief Gao shouted. "Otherwise, he'll get away!"

This time, Xing didn't dodge the arrow flying at his back. He just took a short step sideways, letting the point pass near his hand and clasping the shaft under his arm.

"You have wounded me, you scoundrels!" he shouted, slowly and picturesquely, like a hero dying in a fight with ten thousand enemies, falling from a cliff.

"He's dead!" shouted one of the subordinates. "There's no surviving a fall like that."

"Idiots!" roared the chief Gao. "He will be dead when you bring his head!"

It took a lot of effort for Xing to keep from laughing. He would have liked to feel like a cunning villain, pulling the strings of a web, using multi-purpose combinations and intrigue to lure the enemy into an elaborate trap. Only, alas, nothing was cunning in his actions, for by revealing his presence, he left Gao and Fu no choice. After all, even if he died somewhere in the forest, but the pursuers did not find the body and were not convinced of his death, they would not see peace for the rest of their miserable lives!

Xing qi was released in precisely calculated portions, transforming it into Earth and Tree. Qilin's Gaze allowed him to see every tree, every bush, every rocky ledge and react with sufficient speed. Branches, grass, and rocks picked up his body, cushioning and slowing his fall. Finally, he collapsed at the base of the cliffs, a precise throw of qi covering himself with an avalanche of small rocks.

Through the gap between the rocks, Xing watched contentedly as the excited Gao dismounted, ran to the edge of the cliff, shouted happily, and rushed down, leaving their horses and supplies together at the top, guarded by the only adept. They ran down the nearly sheer surface, occasionally jumping from rock to rock. And they did it in the open, not trying to hide.

Xing once again realized that although they were well-trained, they had rarely, if ever, been in actual battles. Even a local forest squirrel would not fall for such tricks, let alone a more intelligent animal. For their stupidity, of course, they should have been punished immediately. So Xing grabbed a couple of stones, strengthened his hands with qi and threw them at the enemies with the speed of a slingshot.

No matter how hard Gao tried to avoid being hit, the vertical rock left them very little room to maneuver. One Gao flew down, followed by the second and third. The fourth and fifth Xing got them, too. However, they were too well entrenched to be seriously injured, and the height was not enough for them to sprawl at the foot of the cliff as broken puppets like the less fortunate members of their family.

Xing ran to the side, and a familiar column of green flame and poisonous purple lightning struck where he stood. Xing, still limping, ran away straight into the familiar thicket.

"After him! He's wounded and can't hide!" yelled the chief Gao. "I can feel his qi very well!"

Of course, you feel it, Xing laughed mentally, adding a step, when I'm trying so hard!

He ran, still releasing the deliciously appetizing qi that was so appealing to Gao and not only to them. He was careful to keep his distance, letting his enemies get closer and closer to him and then rushing forward with his "last strength." Reaching his territory, the Purple Oak, Xing smiled contentedly. The chase had been following him so diligently, had stretched for almost an entire li. Judging from the rest of the qi spots, this chase was not the only one.

Xing touched the rough bark of the Oak Tree, turned around, and stared at the four Qi Masters approaching him from all sides, led by the Chief Gao.

"Please," he whimpered. "Don't kill me!"

"It's just a child!" exclaimed one of the craftsmen. "He's not even two dozen!"

"Don't worry," the elder Gao lied conciliatorily. "We won't kill you. But you'll have to tell everything you've heard. And swear on the Talisman of Truth you won't tell anyone."

Xing almost laughed again. He knew very well that the Talisman of Truth had a different purpose, that despite its name, it did not reveal the truth, only whether the interrogator believed what he said. And that it was used only for interrogation because it could not force someone to keep a promise.

"You promise?" He said fearfully, trying to look his age.

"The word of the Gao family!" confirmed the leader.

He was stalling for time, waiting for his underlings to surround such a skittish target. In this, their desires coincided - Xing was waiting for the same thing, only for the Gao!

"But tell me, honorable Gao," Xing whimpered in a pitiful voice, "are you sure that the word given by your family...."

He instantly concealed his qi and pushed off the ground with his feet, flying up the tree:

"...worth a pig shit, at least?"

His enemies were alert, several crushing techniques hitting where he had been just a breath earlier. There was a crackle, flashes, strange lightning discharges, and a cloud of smoke. Xing once again praised himself for his decision to avoid the fight. He wasn't a true hero from the crystal yet, so there was no way he could withstand such an attack.

No matter how much Xing hid his qi, the pursuers were not fools. Almost immediately, they directed their techniques upward into the crown of the Oak Tree, where Xing was hiding. Xing remembered how much sweat and blood, even if it was someone else's, he had had to spill while sawing off a single branch. And how much to wash the stains of disgusting bird shit off his wolf clothes.

Xing covered his eyelids, focusing on the surrounding qi. He prepared to repel the attack as soon as any of the Gao dared to climb the tree when their kin would stop pouring useless fire on the Oak Tree. And soon, the attacks did indeed stop. But no one climbed the tree, for Gao now had new worries. Dozens and dozens of new worries.

That qi, that pure, fragrant, delicious, and appetizing qi that Xing incessantly emitted during the chase, brought not only Gao after him. It had gathered a great many very ferocious, very hungry, and very strong beasts. Beasts from the very Forest that a traveler should never have taken even a step through, much less a whole dozen. And the pursuers took more, many more steps.

With his qi, Xing watched the battle unfold. He saw the explosions erupt and the lights of the surging beasts go out. As the names of the techniques were shouted out, some of them, like the Heavenly Finger of Justice, sounded so deliciously majestic and heroic that Xing immediately wanted to learn something similar.

From time to time, the beasts, sensing in some strange way Xing had hidden his energy, climbed into the crown, but Xing used his trusty flail, which had proved to be excellent, to remind them who had been the master of this territory for more than two years. Some of the beasts Xing beat only lightly, just for fun; he grabbed their tails, twisted them, and hurled those vicious, weighty clumps of fangs and claws at Gao's head.

The new tactic bore fruit, and soon, the lights of the huddled and well-fighting Gao began to go out one by one. And, though the enemies became fewer and fewer, the forest beasts were also at an end, leaving a lone victor in the realm of death.

Xing lightly jumped down and walked over to the bloodied head of Gao's squad, who was standing, leaning heavily on his sword, in the middle of a whole graveyard of beasts and humans. Blood ran down his face, and deep wounds from beast claws ran across his shoulder and thigh. A scarlet rivulet also flowed from under his armor.

"You...," Gao wheezed. "Who are you?"

"Have you heard of the great hero of the past, General Guang Nao?" Xing asked.

"Nao..." the enemy laughed, choking on blood. "This damned family..."

Xing sighed heavily. As expected, his death curse had worked after all. Well, the Nao clan had fallen, but this dishonorable mockery of a noble clan would not fare as well. The loss of five Qi Masters and a dozen more full adepts was very difficult to recover from. Or rather, six masters.

Xing's flail swung straight at his opponent's temple, instantly extinguishing the already barely smoldering flame of qi.

He looked around the clearing and sighed. So many valuable trophies, so many beasts with such marvelous skins and delicious meat. Abandon them here? Only Han Nao, who was used to constant abundance, could afford it, not a man born and raised in Duojia, a village where the gods made sure food never went to waste!

Xing sighed and raised his head, gazing intently into the crown of the Purple Oak Tree.

You can't rely on others. A worthy man takes fate into his own hands.

He grabbed the tails of the two dead beasts, letting the qi flow into his legs and soared into the air.

* * *

Official Fu was sprawled on the ground, sobbing heavily. The usually neat braid behind his back was now disheveled, and beads of sweat were strewn across his face. The guards, two adepts from the Gao Clan, were vigilantly keeping watch. From time to time, one of them would go to the cliff and look down.

"No news?" Fu asked once again

"Not yet," Gao replied.

"We should get out quickly!" said the official. "Someone might pass on the road."

"We'll wait for the others," the second guard replied sharply.

"But for how long?" Fu kept up.

When he heard no answer, he looked back. The two guards were sprawled breathlessly on the ground, and above them stood a not-very-tall but fearsome, furry, and dirty figure.

"Who are you? What do you want?" shouted Fu and backed away. "Take everything, money, things, just let me live."

"Papers!" said the monster in an unexpectedly young voice. "I searched the others. No one brought anything important into the forest."

Fu hesitated. The furry figure, meanwhile, deftly stripped the corpses of the guards, putting all the weapons and equipment in a neat pile. The savage reached behind their belts, pulling out small, pleasantly jingling pouches and poured their contents into a single purse, then went through the horses, searching their saddlebags. When he reached the head of the troop, he looked carefully at the chest strapped to the saddle, put his hand to it, and the reinforced and thief-proof lid opened like a morning flower, revealing the contents. The savage laughed, his teeth gleaming dazzling white on his brown-gray mud-covered face. He grabbed one of the dead men's shoulder bags, emptied the contents, and transferred all the money from the chest into it. The sturdy leather of the bag crackled under the weight of the metal, but in the end, it withstood successfully.

"I said papers!" repeated the savage.

"Do you know who you're talking to, young man? - Fu has summoned up his courage. "By attacking me, you are betraying the Emperor!"

The savage weighed his sack in his hand and shook it slightly. The coins jingled delightfully.

"It's a pity that by giving this money to the official of Zhumen," he said, "I am also insulting the Emperor. It is a despicable bribe."

Fu licked his lips.

"I... I would... If I were you, young man," the official said in a soft, ingratiating tone, "I wouldn't make such loud statements. Of course, you're not taking any bribes!"

"But then what is it called?" The savage asked in surprise. "Well, if I give you money to hand me documents that expose the criminal intentions of the despicable Gao family, their betrayal of the Empire, their abuse of imperial justice. If I pay you, a Zhumen official, to assist me in clearing Master Gong Buntao's honorable name and relieving him of his fraudulent debt?"

"It certainly is not a bribe in any way!" Fu recovered enough to get up off the ground and shake himself off. His voice stopped shaking and the usual official intonation began to slip in. It's called an installment! A voluntary installment in the city treasury. And don't you dare call it a payment for services! We, the officials of the Empire, receive a salary, and it is our job to bring justice."

"Is that so?" The savage was surprised. "Excuse me, Mr. Fu. I live here in the forest. I didn't know such subtleties!"

"And for nothing, young man, for nothing! Details are the most important thing."

He reached into his sleeve and pulled out an oblong lacquered case. He opened the lid and took out a scroll. He unrolled it and showed it to the savage.

"This is the Second Jasper Judge's decree to enforce the debt collection from Master Gong Buntao in favor of the Gao Clan. And if you go to the Imperial Registry of Deeds and Litigation, there is no record of this document. Which, of course, is a grave malfeasance in office. I am bitter to admit that the Second Judge used his official powers for personal gain. But, alas, only the Emperor is perfect, and some of his officials sometimes give, like the Second Judge, a shameful slip."

"Well done!" said the savage. He bent over, reaching out for the document, and a small bag of money from the two robbed Gao fell out of his hand quite by accident and supernaturally fell into the hem of Fu's robe, hitting him on the stomach with the coins, painfully but pleasantly at the same time.

Fu was amazed at how much he had underestimated the youth of today. They seemed foolish and hopeless to him, but there were still promising young men who understood the true order of things.

"The Second Jasper Judge will surely be punished! - exclaimed the savage... that is, the worthy young man. "And I hope someone more honest and incorruptible will take his place!"

Fu nodded favorably.

"But what is to be done with the installment?" asked the young man. "The sack is so heavy with so many coins that I can't hold it for long. And we still haven't figured out what to do about Gong Buntao's false debt and the schemes of the despicable Gao."

"Oh, don't worry!" The official hastily assured him, striding toward the horses with a light and surprisingly bouncy step for his build. He did not search the saddlebags as if he knew exactly where they were. As he approached the head of the horse, he quickly patted the saddle with his hands and, with the deft gesture of a street pickpocket, pulled out a wide, ornately carved box.

"Will you, young man?" he asked, holding it out to the young man.

He obediently ran his finger over the lid, it crumbled into fine wood chips.

The official quickly unfolded the documents, nodded, and quacked in satisfaction.

"Here, young man, is a contract signed by the Honorable Gong Buntao, stating that he has received nine dragon scales, and in return, he agrees to make the payment specified here, note this figure, within three days. There's also a late fee and interest. The document is registered in the Office, but this only testifies to its authenticity. And if the contract is accidentally damaged or destroyed, then consider it does not exist. Unless, of course, the Honorable Gong Buntao is willing to provide the Office with a copy of his own."

The young man respectfully accepted the document from his hands, quite casually jingling a large sack.

"This is much more interesting," said the official, holding out a second scroll. "This is Mr. Gong Buntao's receipt, stating that he has repaid the debt. I don't know how such a lowly and despicable Gao family came to have it or why they took it with them instead of keeping it in the most secure room of the manor. Please tell Mr. Buntao that papers are very fond of order. Loan repayment receipts should be taken with you, not left with the lender. This receipt, however, is of rather moderate interest. Because if there is no contract itself, there is no point in repaying it."

The young man smiled broadly again, and Fu, handing him the receipt, marveled once more at what a delightful smile it was. If only it could be washed a little...

"You know, Mr. Fu, I have a very strong, I would say unstoppable desire to contribute this money to the treasury of the glorious city of Zhumen. But, unfortunately, it is a little inconvenient for me to do so, as my way lies in the other direction. Would it not be a breach of duty on your part if I asked you to accept this contribution?"

"Of course not, young man!" Fu smiled broadly. "As the Deputy Second Jasper Judge, I have the right to accept any amount of money for the administration."

"Well then, please take this installment into your head!"

The heavy bag came down on the official's head, cracking his skull and crushing his cervical vertebrae.

* * *

Master Blacksmith Gong Buntao was in a state of turmoil. The bastard who had fooled Jie's head and broken her heart had sneakily escaped. Unfortunately, the attempted chase ended in nothing - over the years, the apprentice had learned to conceal qi so well that he felt at home even among the wild beasts of the Forest of a Dozen Steps.

Gong regretted the loss of his disciple, for even though he was young, he was both strong and persistent. He was well aware the bastard had no special feelings for Jie, except perhaps brotherly feelings, but that didn't matter. He would do anything for his daughter to make her happy. Even if he had to drag the bastard under the altar of each of the Twelve Gods by his ears or drive him to the end of the world with a hammer.

The work was not going well today, for his qi was in turmoil. It wasn't even because of his apprentice's run away. He had passed the exam after all, and Gong was going to fulfill his part of the bargain by visiting the city clerk's office, registering Xing Duo as a Master Blacksmith, and sending the jade plaque to the Imperial Courier Service by name without an addressee. No, a heavy feeling was weighing down the hammer, so much so three billets had to be melted down. It was something that had not happened to him in years.

Gong Buntao left work and spent half the day comforting his sobbing daughter. And after the consolation was over, he wanted to kill the bastard with renewed vigor! Kill him, then kill him again, and then get him to marry his beloved Jie.

Suddenly, the foreboding that had been weighing on him all day vanished as if cut off by the swing of one of the swords he had forged himself. He wandered around for a while, had a few words with Jie, who was still sobbing, and then went out into the courtyard to admire the last rays of the sun setting behind the mountains.

There was no noise, no rustle, and no surge of qi. There was no alarm or warning. It was just a large, thick log with bark that glistened a very distinctive purple that flew over the wall and knocked splinters out of the stone slabs of the courtyard with a loud thud.

The blacksmith shook his head sharply, at such a familiar and still invariably annoying sight!

He sighed and walked over to the log. Three pieces of paper were stuck to the smooth wood bark, protected by a layer of strong, calm qi. Next to them, taped to the log by a belt with very distinctive colors, was a bloody flag with the emblem of Gao, a clan with which Gong Buntao had dealt a couple of times in the distant past but had ended the relationship because of the unbearable pesky demands to forge weapons only for them.

Right on the Purple Oak log, an inscription overflowing with qi and written in calligraphic handwriting shone out:

Master! Learn how to handle documents at last!

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Chapter 18, in which the hero discovers new culinary horizons that turn out to be very old ones in reality