Chapter 3, in which the hero is confronted with guile and cruelty

* * *

In all the stories known to Han, the hero, having found himself in such a situation and having received his portion of helplessness and despair, necessarily found a way out. He would use a secret technique, get help from a trusted friend or lover, or deceive the enemy by pretending to be someone he wasn't. But somehow, there was no way out, and silence hung in the reception room like the executioner's guan dao over the neck of the ruler of a rebellious province. But Han did not despair, for he had a faithful and reliable companion - his mother. And whoever appeared before her blazing eyes - father, ancestral spirits, gods, demons, dragons, or even the Emperor himself - she would never leave her beloved son in trouble. And even though this scoundrel, like a Western barbarian who had uninvited himself into their home, had his father's support, he didn't stand a chance against Lady Lihua. Han even waited with some anticipation to see how all of the impostor's efforts would shatter against his mother's intransigence, like a demonic villain's blade against a hero's Unbreakable Iron Shirt technique. Let him realize the futility of his efforts!

Unfortunately, the scoundrel was already aware of everything. He bowed respectfully, like a son returning from a military campaign to a noble parent, and asked in a disgustingly soft, almost loving voice:

"Honorable Mrs. Lihua, forgive me if I am disrespectful, but am I right in assuming you suffer from kidney pains? And that your neck and legs cramp at times?"

The mother, who had prepared an angry rebuke to the insolent, froze in surprise.

"Yes, you're right! But how can you know that? I understand if you could at least check my pulse like Dr. Suo..."

The villain bowed briefly again, as if honoring the justice and wisdom of her words, and replied:

"You're right. I would have gotten a better result by checking your pulse. But this unworthy stranger can see a lot of things immediately by feeling the qi flow in your body!"

Mother shook her head and smiled slightly. Smiled! Such a betrayal made Han's breath catch.

"You're deluded. No, no, not about the pain. I don't have qi."

"I'm sorry madam, with all due respect to your wisdom, I would venture to guess that this was communicated to you by one of the esteemed doctors mentioned earlier."

"Of course," Mother nodded graciously, "I have been examined by many specialists."

"So, they have yet to advance in science. They're deluded."

He took a few swift steps to the wall. Easily, as if it were a weightless screen of silk and bamboo, picked up a chair, a heavy one that the servants carried only in fours, placed it behind Lady Lihua's back, and, without asking, took her by the wrist and helped her to sit down. He ignored Han's distress as he struggled with trembling hands to rise from the puddle of undigested lunch.

"Qi is everywhere and in everything. It is the energy of life that permeates everything around us, from the cold stars to the very hot depths of the earth beneath our feet, from the tops of mountains to the abyss of the ocean. Trees and beasts, gods and demons, spirits and ghosts have it. And, of course, every human being has it. Yes, some have it stronger, others weaker. Some can cut mountains and destroy enemies with it, and some cannot even blow out a candle. Some can't feel it because they don't know they have it, so they can't command it. You have qi, Lady Lihua, pure and beautiful, as beautiful as you are!"

Han mumbled with indignation once again. What does this bastard think he's doing? Only his poor health prevented him from going after the impostor again and truly punishing him.

"If you, madam, allow this unworthy one to touch your noble body...."

To Han's horror, his mother nodded her head favorably.

The villain's hands flickered like swift snakes, lightly touching Mother's arms, wrists, shoulder blades, shoulders, and neck in imperceptible movements. Once they even touched the hollow between her collarbones! Finally, he extended his finger and touched the middle of her forehead.

"Tell me, noble Lady Lihua, how are you feeling right now?"

The mother craned her neck, stood still as if listening to herself, and stared at the bastard with rounded eyes. Even though he, not being her husband, had dared to grope her, she not only did not call the guards but smiled warmly at the bastard as if he were her own son!

"Qi is everywhere and in everyone," the impostor continued. "Just like ordinary muscles, it can be developed, strengthened, and trained."

"But muscles can be damaged," Mother objected in a weak voice, "and that's what happened to my Haonyu!"

"Anything that is damaged can be healed," the villain said smugly, stepping back from his mother and bowing briefly again. "With the right approach, of course."

"But the doctors..."

"...treating your body, but not harmonizing the qi flow, so the results were always short-lived. I don't specialize in healing, but I can treat combat injuries and wounds from training. I can also treat meridian and acupuncture point injuries."

With wounds? Did he say wounds? Han found that his body, as if by itself, was gradually crawling back to the stained chair, intending to hide under it. Yes, that's right, he rejoiced, crawled beside the chair, crawled behind the screen, sneaked to the exit, and hid, ordering the servants not to let the villain anywhere. After all, his father's vows applied only to Han himself!

"I'm also very good at finding hidden people," said a hateful voice from somewhere high up.

A mighty kick threw the chair into the wall, and Han shuddered as he looked at the wreckage. If he'd been a little to the left, that kick would have hit him!

"Stand up."

"I'm not afraid of you!" Han declared, not even trying to get up.

In his head, it sounded like a courageous challenge to the inexorable circumstances, but aloud, it came out something thin and squeaky.

"You forgot to say - master," the bastard chuckled.

An unbearable pain pierced Han's body as he flew into the air, landed, and slipped on the soup spilled on the floor. Shark fin soup! Shark fin soup that had already been eaten once!

"Stand up," came a stern voice from above.

Han's body flew upward once more and slammed to the floor again, this time much more painfully.

"Stand up,"

Tears streamed from Han's eyes, but he stood up, not wanting to be hurt again. His mother, who was staring at the scene with moist eyes, bit her hand, then suddenly turned away and ran away at an unusually light and brisk pace.

"You don't know where the training ground is, of course," the bastard didn't even ask, he claimed!

Han only continued to sniffle. The echoes of the pain he had just inflicted occupied his thoughts, and he had no strength left to lament the injustice of fate, the cruelty of his father and ancestral spirits, the sudden and unexpected betrayal of his mother, who had left him alone with the monster.

"I don't hear your war cry," the impostor persisted.

"Wh-what cry?" Han's voice broke out.

He shrank back involuntarily, expecting another hit, but the bastard touched Han's shoulder lightly as if he were shaking off a speck of dust, and the unbearable pain pierced his body again.

The reply was spoken in a kind and even good-natured tone, with a touch of reproachfulness, as a calligraphy teacher, Chen Zi, had once pointed out a blunder in writing a complex hieroglyph:

"What a cry, Master."

"What a c-cry, Master?"

"Warcry, consisting of two words: "Yes, Master!". Follow me."

Han, who was frozen in a mute stupor, only opened and closed his mouth. The " Master" took a few steps away and, not hearing his sniffling behind him, stopped and slowly turned around. Han had a sudden stomach ache and an unbearable urge to pee.

As the scrolls and crystals repeatedly tell us, enlightenment comes to the hero in difficult and dangerous moments of life. His senses sharpen, his thoughts become quick and sharp like a warlord's blade, and a wave of understanding comes over his mind. As it turned out, the crystals were not lying. In the rushing waterfall of clarity, understanding, and intuition, Han realized with certainty that in a moment, even a fraction of a moment - and he would be beaten again.

"Yes, Master!" he cried out.

Or rather, he tried to scream. The pain cramping his body made it sound pathetic, more like a squelchy whimper. Tears rolled from his eyes again, and his nose squelched. The torturer turned and strode away, striding and not looking back, and Han had no choice but to follow.

"Save me, save me," Han clung to some servant boy whose face looked vaguely familiar.

He didn't notice the blow. Only a moment later, an unbearable pain pierced his body, and an unknown force threw him away and rolled him across the floor.

"Do you still have the strength to think, to cry, and to look for salvation? That's good. It means I can load you more than I expected," said the villain.

The servant, whose help Han had relied on as a drowning man would grab a splinter in a whirlpool, had disappeared without a trace. He tried to leap through the thin rice screen to slip through the door leading to the private quarters, where strangers could not enter. Alas, the attempt failed. Tenacious fingers caught his ear like a blacksmith's pincers and dragged him across the floor like a careless puppy. Just when Han thought his ear was going to rip off, the villain loosened his grip and, with a few not-so-painful but very insulting kicks, forced him to his feet. Han looked around, but the servants were nowhere to be found. Those cowardly, ungrateful creatures had shamefully scattered instead of protecting their master! At least no one had seen his humiliation.

"Go forward!" ordered the impostor. "I guess I'd better follow behind."

"But I don't know where to go..." Han squeaked, but when he saw the hand raised to strike, he quickly added: "...Master!"

"Don't worry, I'll get you where you need to go!" He laughed in a villain's voice.

Indeed, every time Han took a wrong turn, a resentful kick followed, turning him in the right direction. Thus, in a hail of kicks, Han walked through the palace garden, past the guest buildings and servants' quarters, along the warrior barracks, and straight to the training grounds. Han was stared at by the servants and the warriors practicing on the training ground and the firing range. One of the guards, seeing the treatment of the heir, even fired an arrow not at the straw effigy but at his feet, for which he was immediately reprimanded by his commander.

When he saw his chance, Han made one last attempt to escape, rushing under the protection of the loyal guards. But before he could take a few steps, he was on the hard ground of the courtyard, trampled by thousands of feet.

"Let's start with a light jog of fifty laps," the hateful voice commanded from above.

Han groaned and began to flounder. Like a hero gathering his last strength to strike an invulnerable opponent, he flung himself away, kicking his legs and trying to crawl as far away as possible.

The body was struck with pain again.

"Commendable zeal!" The impostor said with a toothy grin, squatting down beside him. "Only you forgot something. I said not to crawl but to run. Besides, you're crawling the other way. Now run!"

An iron hand caught him by the scruff of the neck and turned him in the right direction, and a painful kick in the ass gave him the speed he needed. Han hobbled obediently on wobbling legs.

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"There must be something wrong with my hearing," came another voice behind him, followed by another painful kick. "Did you forget to say something?"

"Yes, Master!" Han yelled, jumping up and down as far as he could.

When was the last time he had run? Probably before, he had an adult name, but Han wouldn't remember for sure now anyway. His head was buzzing, pain echoed through his body, and his pulse was thundering in his ears. Every step was hard to take, but if I slowed down, it was followed by another thump.

"Hurry up! I didn't say crawl!"

"Yes, Master!"

His head was confused, his throat tight with self-pity, his arms unsteady, his legs tangled. The villain was not only running beside him, but he was hitting Han with a stick whenever he slowed down! The same stick that had recently been hanging behind his back, or a pole, or a kettlebell. Whatever the name of this silly peasant nonsense was, it didn't matter now. Each stop was followed by a painful blow, giving him strength for a couple of steps, no more.

"I... die," he gurgled.

"Master!" The scoundrel backed up his words with a painful kick to the lower back.

"I can't..." Han began to stagger, black circles in front of his eyes.

"There's strength to talk and not say "master," so there's strength to run!"

Han roared again like a wounded beast, but this villain was truly a villain, and he didn't even think of taking pity! I'll die, I'll die, I'll die, Han's head pounded in time with his heavy footsteps. Then he had no strength left to think, and he moved his feet one by one until his consciousness was enveloped in a salutary blackness.

* * *

He came to his senses when he was hit by a stream of intolerably cold water. It seemed pleasant to his heated body at first, but then it hit his nose and mouth, and Han floundered and shrieked.

"Well, you've cleaned off the vomit too," said a hateful voice from above.

"Ha, whoaheh," Han wheezed after receiving an encouraging kick.

The impostor put the bucket aside and looked around. The guards, gawking at the free spectacle, returned to their training after a few shouts from the commander. The villain grinned under his breath and pointed at the darkening sky.

"There's a cloud coming at us over there, it's going to be a thunderstorm, with lightning and heavy rain, even hail. Do you think that's good weather for training? You might as well drink up."

"Huhi," Han blurted out, his eyes blurring.

"And there will be no tears to be seen," the ruthless voice added. "Do you think you've already died and gone to the underworld? That it couldn't be worse, even though you've only run seven laps? We haven't even started yet.... I can't hear the answer"

"Yes, ...hastef," Han wheezed, trying to get up.

"I've learned a few simple things over the years," the voice continued. "Though perhaps they are too simple for you, for you are used to philosophical wisdom and fancy quotations, aren't you?"

Han was accustomed to the colorful statements in crystals and scrolls, and he had always admired their wisdom and the beauty of the images they contained. But he did not give in to the provocation and did not answer, for he realized that now he would be mocked again. As Han himself had once written: A wise word is like a Zhen of silver, but silence is a Ling of gold.

"All his life, swimming in his cozy, warm pond, the carp will remain a carp. It is only when he goes beyond that pond and faces death and unthinkable hardships he can surpass himself and become a dragon. The loose, soft ore in the swamps is no different from mud and rocks. But once it gets into the crucible of the forge and receives a thousand blows of the blacksmith's hammer - and it, a useless lump of garbage, gets hardened, changes its essence, turning into Star Steel, a blade for which there are no barriers! Surely you are wondering what meaning lies in these statements?"

Han was only interested in one thing: how many more delightful moments he could lie there without moving. So he, learning from his previous experience, moaned:

"Yeh, haster!"

"And the meaning here is very simple and, at the same time, very profound. Your change... it's already begun! You are the piece of ore I pulled out of the stagnant swamp!"

Han pressed his head into his shoulders. He truly felt like this very piece of ore. After all, he had received more blows today than he had ever received in his life!

"You're a carp now! No, the word "carp" is an undeserved accolade. You are a tadpole, even a caviar from which this tadpole has yet to hatch!"

I wish I had fish now, Han sobbed softly. A fat, juicy, boneless pelada cooked in a triple soup of small fish with spices from the central regions of the Empire! Or even carp! A good fat carp cooked over four fires, with xian lu zhan sauce!

"Now repeat everything I said!"

"The carp beat up the blacksmith and he drowned in the swamp?" Han grumbled.

The guards' laughter rang out in the distance, but Han didn't have the strength to not only give them a sizzling glare, and even turn around.

"...master!" the impostor reminded him with a kick in the ass.

"Master," Han said obediently.

"So you can't repeat it," the villain smirked. "The blood and qi in your body are flowing to your stomach instead of your head because of your immoderate gluttony. That's okay. It's not a big deal. To restore the harmony of body and mind, you will listen to all future lectures in the dabu stance. And you will not come out of it until you have repeated it satisfactorily close to the text."

"Dobu, Master?" Han hurriedly muttered a question without waiting for the punch.

"Dabu! Look carefully: it's performed like this!"

He sat down easily and smoothly, without any transition in what scrolls and crystals usually called the rider's stance. But, unlike the crystals, this scoundrel had spread his legs wider and crouched lower, his feet parallel to each other, his back perfectly straight, his pelvis forward, and his thighs strictly horizontal.

Han wouldn't have been able to repeat it even in his early childhood, so he just groaned. First mentally and then aloud. He didn't want to feel any more pain, so he hastily assumed the desired position, well, as the fatness of his legs and stomach allowed.

"That'll do... for the egg," the bastard said, forcing Han into a semblance of a proper stance, strolling around as if nothing had happened, and giving him an appraising look. "So, qi. All living beings have it, but only humans and the most ancient and powerful of beasts can use it. Usually to harm others. But sometimes to help. Now, I'm going to show you a basic technique called Qi Transfer."

Han felt a soft, pleasant stream flowing from his finger poking under his shoulder blade as if a delicious warm soup had been poured into his hungry stomach after a whole morning of meditation and calligraphy. He felt a sudden surge of strength as if he could crush rocks with his bare hands and uproot centuries-old trees. He was omnipotent, and there was a vile assailant who wanted to ruin his life. Han jumped up from his stance, shouted incoherently, and lunged to attack. A moment later, his body was pierced with pain, and darkness came with it.

* * *

"Here, now we've found out in practice that a body fortified with qi can even withstand the impact of your head hitting a stone wall," a voice sounded from above.

The stone felt pleasantly cold against his stomach and cheek, he didn't want ...he didn't want to do anything. Just to lie there and not get up, even the anger at the voice from above gave way to this desire to do nothing.

"And if you were to control your qi directly, you could break through this wall with your bare hand. What do you think?"

"Ya, mohtor," Han wheezed.

His mouth was dry, though it was already getting stuffy, and a thunderstorm was rumbling in the distance. Han suddenly realized that he was going to die like that, right on this ground, in the middle of the rain, and no one would even cry for him, and this scoundrel would pull down his pants and... and...

Out of self-pity, Han suddenly jumped up, clenching his fists.

"There!" the voice rumbled. "You have faced death and overcome the most fearsome opponent of all - yourself!"

Han didn't even notice the fist flying at his face, nor did he have time to realize the darkness that had descended.

* * *

"Get up and run," Han heard the merciless voice and cried again, quietly and hopelessly.

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed that the guards, who had returned to their training, were glaring at him again. He thought to intensify his sobs but suddenly realized he had no strength left. Not to sob harder, not to fight back, not to get up.

"Today you will run fifty laps, and tomorrow fifty-one, shouting at each one "I am a spawn, Master!". Because life is an endless battle, and man must defeat himself every day."

Han, hearing his own quote again, only clenched his teeth. He would not give the scoundrel another opportunity to humiliate him in front of the Nao House warriors!

"A person does not have to be strong all at once, it is enough to get a little bit better. You may feel that you don't have the strength to get up, that you don't have the breath to take a step forward. Don't worry, you'll have the strength, I'll take care of that. And then you will have rest. You will listen and repeat my lectures, standing in the dabu stance."

"I'll get stronger, and then you'll get what you deserve!" Han whispered faintly, almost to himself.

But immediately received a not-too-painful but offensive kick in the ass.

"You forgot to add something! And say it louder!"

"I will become stronger and kill you!" Han roared "Master!"

To his surprise, no new kick followed.

"Well, you'll never be like me!" The villain laughed merrily, repeating another villain's phrase. "But you can try. And for that... Dabu stand!"

Han pressed his trembling hands against the hard ground and tried to rise to his feet, not waiting for his tormentor's reminders, which would be followed by more beatings.

"Stop! Who are you? What are you doing? You're going to kill him!" A woman's angry voice sounded, and Han's heart, which had been pounding with joy, immediately collapsed.

Mei Lin, as agile and graceful as ever, leaped forward, standing between him and the impostor. She was holding a wooden pole, which she had obviously grabbed from a nearby training weapon stand.

Even though it was written in different characters, the name of the neighbor was the same as the name of Bao Xiao's lover. This was why the Impetuous Blade was Han's favorite series, why he always ordered these crystals despite the cost. He often daydreamed, imagining himself in Bao's place, saving his Mei Lin from numerous powerful villains, sorcerers, and robber kings, the role of which in these dreams was played by his neighbor. After all, this Mei, his Mei, was much more beautiful and enchanting than even the heroine from the crystals!

And now Mei saw him in such a pathetic, such humiliating state! Luckily, the first drops of rain came down, hiding the tears on Han's face. He redoubled his efforts to get up, for she, Mei Lin, was looking at him!

Han suddenly noticed that the bastard, whom he didn't even mentally want to call master, was watching him like a kite watching its prey. His arms separated and broke, and he hit his face on the compacted earth. But even the pain in his face couldn't compare to the agony of Mei Lin seeing him like this!

"Don't worry, Oh beautiful stranger who outshines the sun with the fierce brilliance of her eyes," the rascal immediately smiled, and Han mentally howled.

The memories came flooding back, as clear as if it had been yesterday, not half a dozen years ago. Back then, the Nao family had gone to visit their new neighbors, who had moved to the province after Mei's father had been appointed Inspector of Markets and Water. The Nao family members had congratulated him on such an important appointment and presented him with appropriate gifts, and even General Guang himself had spoken to him as an equal. But Han had only looked at Mei then, unable to believe that such beauty and grace could exist on earth.

She was perfection itself, so unrealistically beautiful as if she came out of a crystal. During the polite conversation, Han was pleased to learn that she was also a martial artist and knew the names of all the qi techniques and the names of the heroes. As a member of the Nao family, Han had no shortage of money, but he offered to share the cost of the Heroes of the Empire Almanac with her, and she gladly agreed. Each new issue of the Almanac provided a good reason to meet and spend time together, and hope blossomed in Han's heart. And then it all went wrong. When Han opened his heart to her, Mei looked on with bewilderment that burned worse than Master Zhang's Great Discerning Technique of the Acid Lizard, albeit in polite terms but refused.

Despite his mother's support and help and all her troubles, nothing came out in the end. At that time, Han even tried to train for a while to match Mei, who had been trained in the Shuangguo paired hooks and had an excellent command of the short Guan Dao. She had given Han many lessons on the basics of qi mastery, which, unlike the instruction of his father's rough and uncouth guardsmen, Han had never missed.

But something kept going wrong. One day it was winter, and Mother Lihua wouldn't let him sit in a snowdrift to develop "inner warmth" to impress Mei, and then the training stopped. Time passed, and Han focused on philosophy and wise sayings, putting off training for later. But of course, he was not going to give up, he was going to become the greatest mage and fighter, and then Mei Lin would definitely be his!

After all, they were still in touch, and she would come to pick up the Almanac, which they continued to subscribe to, sharing expenses, and all this kept alive in his heart, somewhere very deep, the hope of a better future.

"...just a little preparation," the scoundrel continued, keeping his sneaky gaze on Mei Lin.

Han, who was immersed in sweet memories, shuddered.

"In the body-mind-spirit triad, everything must be harmonious and balanced, then qi and thoughts will flow freely, and the body will move as if it were itself. Take you, for example."

He stared at her with an appraising look, it was as improper as if he were pointing a finger.

"Me?" Mei was surprised and even lowered her pole a little.

"Exactly you," the impostor said with a serious face. "Would I be right if I said that you are not only perfectly proficient with a spear, most likely even a guan dao but also use paired blades?"

She rounded her beautiful eyes and nodded cautiously. He continued in the calm, confident tone of a scholar reciting well-known truths like that water is wet, fire is hot, and the Empire will stand forever:

"Do you think if you didn't put in so much effort if you didn't spend so much time exercising, could you be as beautiful and graceful? Would your eyes be as clear and your skin as flawless? Would you have been the embodiment of perfection and harmony then as you are now?"

I'm harmonious too, Han mentally yelled, horrified to see Mei's cheeks reddening. Did she really believe the false speeches of this..... this...? Or was he influencing her with that qi of his or some demonic sorcery?

Yes, that's what happened! And he had fooled mother, father, servants, everyone! There was only one way out to stand up and overcome, to overcome with all his might, to reveal the villainous villain's deception to everyone! Or better yet, strike him to death with the Eighteen Petal Storm Technique! Except Han not only didn't know this technique, but he also didn't possess qi! The villain had planned for that, too!

"My negligent student is dominated by the body. It is too strong, because there is so much of it, but at the same time it is too weak. The broken harmony suppresses the mind and spirit, so it must be restored. I'm not killing him, I'm just teaching him. Or rather, for the time being, I am only preparing it to study, Oh, most beautiful one....."

"My name is Mei Lin!" She replied with a slightly warmer voice full of sincere concern for Han.

"The most beautiful Mei Lin. Now his body is not ready, so his mind is not able to perceive what is being said, and his spirit is restless. How can one speak of the correct qi flow? Student, assume the dabu stance!"

"Yes, Master," Han muttered, holding back a groan.

It hurt, but if Mei Lin had seen him being beaten right in front of her, it would have hurt even more! Somewhere inside burst a hope that Mei would see his torment and intercede, but Han admitted defeat with a sigh. His father had sworn such a strong oath that even his mother had to back down. And even if Mei did intercede, so what? Because of her father's words, the bastard might even slaughter her, or even do something worse!

"As you can see, Ms. Mei, he's not standing right, and the qi is circulating very poorly," the villain pointed out. "But don't worry, it's only temporary hardships!"

Mei Lin nodded and suddenly stood beside him in the same stance. Han felt a rush of warmth inside. She's supporting him, even if only in this way! Not all is lost yet, they need to wait and be patient for a while, and together they can deal with the villain! Just like Jin He, who also pretended to be meek and submissive to free Lin Zhong and defeat the despicable Guo Feng together!

"It's obvious that you know the basics very well," the rascal nodded. "But even true perfection can become even more perfect. Here you need to adjust your hips a little and inhale a little sharper. That's it!"

Pretending to correct her stance, the bastard unashamedly groped Mei. Then he stood in front of her in the same position, took several deep breaths, and exhaled, shamelessly staring at her heaving breasts!

Han groaned and fell on his back, silently asking the frowning heavens why they were sending him such punishment. The heavens heard and cried back.

"Student, assume the dabu stance," came a ruthless cry.

* * *