Chapter 5, in which the hero appreciates the beauty of the wilderness and learns the secret of the food of the gods

* * *

"You'll never be like me."

Han roared, blinded by hatred. The words spoken by one villain and repeated by another villain were maddening, not only in their meaning but also in the tone of absolute unquestioning confidence with which they were spoken. If before he had been afraid of the master, always waiting for pain and beatings, now everything had changed. He was now a true warrior - he had qi, which meant that there were no obstacles, but only temporary hardships.

As it soon turned out, he roared again, this time in pain. A slow and somewhat lazy kick of his foot struck him in the chest and threw him away, making him tumble and roll across the plaza. If it had hit the wall, the wall would have been splattered with shards of stone. If Han hadn't gathered his qi and tried to close in, Mother Lihua might have lost her favorite son. For a moment, he even regretted using qi to protect himself. If he had died, then everyone would have realized how stupid and cruel they had been, how unfairly he had been treated, and how little he had been valued! His mother, father, and those foolish ancestors who took oaths left and right and made vows to various scoundrels!

Han was snapped out of his sad thoughts about the hardships and injustices of fate by a loud, villainous laugh. The master, trying to imitate the villains from the crystals, was clearly overplaying. This triggered another fit of rage.

"If a tadpole will constantly fall for the tricks of the enemy, it will never become not only a carp but even a fry," the master mocked. "Even an egg is able to remember that teasing, insults, and hurtful words during a fight are also weapons designed to piss off the opponent and deprive him of mental balance. And since your memory is so bad, it's my duty as a teacher to improve it. What's the best stance to clear your mind?"

"Yoo-boo, Master!" Han muttered. He hated this stance, not even because it was difficult to stand - he often had to freeze in much more uncomfortable positions - but because of the lectures that went along with it.

"Why yoo-boo?" The master asked. "Tell me what it means."

Han already knew he should first take a stance and then begin to recite the theory because the trick of "babbling the teacher" never worked, as he would first answer all the questions and then punish him for "wasted time." So Han got into a stance that was supposed to be that of a swimming fish, with his arms and legs bending gracefully like the movements of a trout in theory, but in practice was more like the slouching of a peasant looking for a place in the nearest bushes.

"Yoo-boo or Fish Step is a stance that symbolizes flexibility, harmony, and adaptability. Just as a fish swimming in a changing current reacts to all surprises, a warrior standing in this stance feels the world around him with his whole body."

"Good job, that's good! Keep your knees together! And don't forget to keep your fins up, ah-ha-ha-ha-ha!'

Han almost growled but obediently raised his hands.

"It's okay that you can't do it," the villain continued. "After all, a yoo-boo is a fish stance. What are you?"

"Tadpole, Master!"

"But in order to turn into a fish and perform the stance correctly, a tadpole has to become at least a fry. It's only in your crystals a simple inept can turn into a Qi Master without any effort."

Eh, how many years, cycles, or eras had it been since he'd watched the crystals?

The master's words, spoken in a kind and gentle tone, unexpectedly hurt. First of all, no hero became a master for nothing! He had to go through many hardships, sleep in inns with suspicious guests, fight bandits, and go up against powerful warriors and sorcerers. Secondly, to imagine the same Bao Xiao running hundreds of laps, carrying heavy stones, and eating the food of servants and dogs did not work. And thirdly, the master's soft and friendly tone always meant one thing: Han was about to be beaten.

"Not bad, not bad... not bad for a tadpole," the blow hit Han's leg from behind. "But you're not very good at reacting to all surprises."

His knee buckled, and Han collapsed before he could gather his qi.

"Take a yoo-boo stance."

"Yes, Master," Han replied, rising, with a slight sigh.

"Concentrate! Well, since the stand symbolizes flexibility and adaptability, then flexibly adapt not only to hold qi but also at the same time quote the basic stratagems of the treatise Battle Strategies of the Indomitable Dragon."

"Yes, Master," he sighed louder this time.

"And then, since you're already a tadpole, we'll go camping."

"Yes, Master."

* * *

Long ago, shortly after he had received his adult name, Han had been hunting several times. He was an enthusiastic young man, almost a child, not yet wise enough to have written a single utterance. He had heard his father, his father's guardsmen, and his brother tell him how much fun and excitement hunting was, how much it stirred the blood of a real man. That only by hunting could a man be called a man, that only by killing a beast with a bow and roasting it on the fire and eating it himself could he speak of the real taste of food.

As it turned out in practice - it was all a lie.

The saddle he had ridden on at first was stiff and chafed his delicate, sensitive thighs. The bushes and low branches clung to his clothes and sometimes whipped his face. The servants accompanying the procession were clumsy and unhurried, and when he, tired of riding, got into the palanquin, they could not carry him smoothly without rocking him. They even stumbled, so much so once Han nearly fell to the ground.

The hunters, including his father and brother, only laughed and said, "It's all right. He'll understand soon." And he did understand when, instead of a comfortable chair or at least soft cushions, he had to sit on the ground covered with a blanket! It was unheard of, but not only members of House Nao but even other aristocrats became rude and ill-mannered once they entered the forest. They laughed loudly, cursed, and treated the servants almost as equals - letting them speak first, sometimes resting, and even eating the leftovers from their table!

Instead of "exciting chases" and "confrontation between man and beast," Han got only a long, boring run through the forest, with nothing to look at but a glimpse of identical trees. And when the pursuers found first a boar and then a deer, the disappointment came with renewed vigor. The animals were caught on slingshots by the servants, and then the hunters shot them with bows - the spectacle of the killing was utterly inelegant and vulgar. Blood, convulsing animals, released entrails, skinned hides, and bloody carcasses - then Han vomited in the bushes for a long time. And as the pinnacle of his dashed hopes, the praised fire-roasted meat was not only no better than the palace cooks' delicacies but also tough, overcooked in some places, and half-cooked in others. When Han suggested that he have the servants cook the meat, his father only laughed and went back to talking about "real men."

It was after his second hunt that Han stepped onto the path of philosophy, writing in a scroll, Be cautious, behind the clouds of promises lies lies.

And now he was remembering that wisdom again, marveling at how smart he had been even then and how much worse things were now.

"The servants aren't going anywhere!" The bastard's decisive gesture stopped the two tall men carrying large sacks from accompanying Han.

"But everything I need is here! Master, I can't go into the forest with nothing!"

"You have qi. That's enough," said the scoundrel in a condescending manner. "You will make or obtain everything you need with your own hands."

"But ma-aster!"

"You're right, though!" The sudden docility of his master was not only unpleasant but also frightening to the point of wetting his pants.

"Really, Master?" Han didn't believe it.

"Have I ever lied to you?"

Han could go on and on about the times this despicable, hypocritical, vile, and disgusting impostor had deceived, lied, and misled him. But he was well aware of the consequences of answering truthfully, so he just shook his head negatively.

"It might not even have all the things you and I will need. But we'll make do with what little we have. Shall we go?"

"Yes, Master!" Han agreed happily, making a sign for the servants to follow him.

"Your qi, student, must have become stagnant, accumulated in the stomach area, and flowed away from your head and ears. Where in the expression "you and me" does it refer to the imperial procession with maids, eunuchs, servants, and palanquins?"

"But the cargo, Master?" Han was surprised. "It's very heavy!"

"Hardship and tribulations only harden the body and will," the bastard quoted the Han scroll again. "So you will carry the sacks yourself."

Han really wanted to ask what the master would be doing at this time, but he already knew the answer.

His premonitions had not deceived him: he had to run through a wilderness devoid of paths and roads, stumbling over limbs and falling into holes. He had to scramble through thickets and wade through shallow rivers, and the straps of the two huge sacks were unbearably buried in his shoulders. He had to spend the night on the bare ground, which had become an integral part of his life, for he had no time or energy to build a shelter. And while the master was comfortably settled in the silk tent on the soft bedding, he simply fell into darkness from fatigue and hunger. He had to drink directly from the streams and chase after prey like a wild animal, hoping to get a piece of meat. While the master ate the supplies the servants had prepared with evident pleasure, Han had only to choke on his saliva and look at the raw entrails of a rabbit he had killed himself, which he could not cook because he did not know how to cook and had no fire to make.

"Rotten logs like this are the best. If you turn them upside down, you'll find lots of tasty insects," the bastard said, popping a particularly juicy maggot into his mouth and eating a peacock roll in lotus leaves.

Han bent over, he would vomit if there was anything left in his stomach but bitter bile.

Even though the master had eaten the supplies, the sacks didn't get any lighter - the bastard had added smooth, heavy stones from the nearby riverbank. Han had to run and jump again, wading through thickets and brushwood. He had to build huts again, and he was freezing, for these ridiculous structures could not protect him from the night rain, but his master only laughed and told him to try harder. He broke dry branches for firewood and tried to make fire by friction, only to groan at the pain in his blistered palms. He searched for water and then tried to purify what he found, only to vomit it up later and lie there half-delirious with a sick stomach.

"A warrior's appearance must be clean inside and outside," the master used the stolen quote again, and Han had to wash his dirty clothes in the icy water.

Sometimes, the bastard disappeared somewhere, so he had to pull out the contents of scrolls about wildlife to orient himself in the forest and get to the place of the previous camp, where his master was waiting for him, munching something tasty and yummy.

When, an eternity later, the forest suddenly ended, and the native walls of Nao Manor appeared in the distance, Han couldn't stand it any longer, burst into tears, and fell to his knees, kissing the ground soaked by the recent rain.

"Bad, very bad," came a voice from above.

"But I did well, Master," Han raised his soiled face resentfully.

"You did well, but not well enough. Hardly worthy of a tadpole."

Such injustice made Han sob.

"Don't worry, it's just a temporary hardship," the master comforted him with a hackneyed phrase. "We'll double your training to strengthen your qi. And we'll repeat the camping trip as often as possible. Are you happy, student?"

"Yes, Master," Han replied and convulsed right in the mud.

* * *

"What is qi?" The bastard asked in a deceptively casual, supposedly disinterested voice.

But now Han was no longer fooled, and he answered immediately:

"The energy that permeates the whole world and especially the living, Master!"

Han was standing on his head, his hands resting on the stone of the courtyard, which had already been worn away by his feet and, in some places, scraped and broken by his body and head. At the moment, his body was stretched into a perfectly straight string - he knew this with certainty, for any deviation from the ideal would be met with a hateful bamboo stick at his heels.

"Where is it located?"

"Everywhere, Master! All around, Master! In everything, Master!"

"Concentrate, student. Separate some of the qi and direct it to the eyes."

"But they'll burst, Master!" Han almost shouted. He remembered how his hands had swollen, and his fingers had broken at first when he had used his qi to kill that rascal.

"Of course, they will!" The torturer backed up his words with another blow. "Only if someone is a stupid tadpole and doesn't understand his mentor's words. Do as I taught you - slowly, smoothly, and with concentration."

Han licked his lips. He didn't want to lose his eyes, but he didn't want to feel pain again. Yes, his master had healed even complicated injuries many times, but he didn't want to risk his eyes. On the one hand, if Han went blind, then the bastard would leave him alone and choose a new victim. On the other hand, Han would never be able to look at crystals or practice calligraphy. Besides, even losing his eyesight wouldn't necessarily stop the villain - he could just say once again that it was a "temporary hardship" and even redouble his favorite torture and abuse.

"The tian guan stance you are in serves as the initial exercise, the foundation for the development of the Great Triad of Perception."

"Of the Great Triad, Master?"

"Sniffing, hearing, and seeing are all found in a head, even one as dumb as yours. Of course, if you were a fry, you wouldn't need a stance, but dumb tadpoles can't do without help. And I'll give you help," the master reinforced his words with another kick in the heels. "Repeat what you're doing now."

"Yes, Master!" Han shouted. "I am standing in the heavenly crown stance. I must stand up straight, breathe deeply and measuredly, and circulate qi. And develop flexibility, balance, and concentration. And by making me stand upside down, you are showing me that true power and wisdom can be achieved through hard work and dedicated training!'

Han repeated this nonsense, almost choking on his words. If hard work could help him in any way, he would have become the world's greatest hero long ago! In addition, he had enough true wisdom as it was - even two dozen sages could not write as many sayings in a lifetime as he did in a single month!

"You don't believe me," the master said with sudden insight. "But it doesn't matter. It is hard work and persistence, and following the chosen path turns a foolish child into a great hero and an insignificant egg into a divine dragon. That's the way it is, and no other way."

"You're still a commoner! You'll never be like me!" Han said caustically, preparing for more beatings.

But to his amazement, there was no pain. The master only lifted his head and laughed heartily. And at that moment, standing on his head, Han felt particularly foolish.

"Not bad, student! Not bad at all," he nodded at last. "Yes, indeed, I was born a commoner. Yes, indeed, I will never be the son of the great General Guang and the beautiful Lady Lihua. Yes, each of us can only be the son of our parents in this life and can only have the descent that the gods and spirits have bestowed upon us."

Han smirked, feeling the unexpectedly sweet triumph of victory. This lowly impostor had recognized his low origin and the superiority of the Nao family! But the man wasn't finished:

"Yes, my origins are indeed not honorable. So what? Of course, the wealth and nobility of a family is a great power. But it's not the only power, and it's not even the main one. Tell me, my student, do nobility and wealth matter if you can crush any opponent with your own hands? Do it like this!" The master picked up a stone from the ground and squeezed it in his palm. The stone spattered with shards, and when the master turned his palm over, it crumbled into fine sand.

Han was silent. In all the stories, the heroes had a powerful family, of course, but more often than not, it was the relatives who were the first serious obstacle. They always regarded the hero as trash and a lowlife, treating him ... almost like a master treats Han. But that was only at first. The hero grew stronger, crushed the mean side branches that were going to disinherit him, defeated in a duel first the recognized genius of the family - some fourth cousin, and then whipped on the cheeks of the nasty uncle, who almost snatched the place of the head of the family from the sick father of the hero. Thus justice always triumphed.

"Take the Gao family, for example. They are as noble and wealthy as the Nao, always opposing General Guang. If they were in the same province with you, you would fight them to the death until one of the clans was completely destroyed, or perhaps both at once. But the Emperor's great-grandfather, in his divine wisdom, placed the clans at opposite ends of the Empire by a separate edict. So now Gao has no choice but to try to slander the Nao at court and do petty mischief suitable only for servants and women."

Aside from the colors of the robes and the emblem of the clan, knowledge gained from the now half-forgotten lessons about the major clans of the Empire, Han had only heard of the Gao from his father, who often told his mother how vile, pathetic, and despicable they were. So the master hadn't provided anything new or interesting.

"So, student, is there any point to this nobility and wealth if I can simply destroy the entire Gao family, wipe it out?"

"But the Emperor..."

"Oh, the Emperor will certainly punish me," agreed the master. "He might even send me into exile. But the punishment won't be too severe, and the exile won't be too far away. Because I have power on my side...."

"Are you going to rebel against the Empire?" Han marveled.

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

"Student, are you an idiot? Well, don't answer that. I already know you are. Because I have the power on my side, which the Emperor needs more than any noble and rich family. So answer me this. Does it matter that the majestic dragon that destroys the enemy at the behest of the Emperor's hand was once an insignificant egg lying at the bottom of a muddy swamp? Does it matter my origin if I only take orders from the Son of Heaven and everyone else can only make humble pleas?"

"But still, Master, you have to spend your time with me!" Han rebuked him triumphantly. "The one you've always called a wretch, a spawn, a tadpole, and a fry!"

"Hey! Don't get ahead of yourself!" smirked the impostor. "I haven't called you a fry yet, and you're yet to become one. As for the pointless and ungrateful waste of time..... I respect General Guang immensely for his selfless service to the Empire and admire the beauty and kindness of Lady Lihua. I couldn't bear to know about their suffering, so I decided to help. But I decided to do it myself, simply because I could! Do you understand me, student?"

"Yes, Master!" Han muttered.

"So remember, just as there is only one way for a commoner who wishes to have only Heaven and the Emperor above him, so you, in order to become a fry and then a carp, in order to end your torment, must acquire sufficient power."

"Fry and carp? And the dragon?"

"You'll never be like me!" laughed the master. "So start at least with a fry and move steadily forward. And I, as your honorable and generous mentor, will definitely help you! For example, you lost a lot of time on meaningless conversations, so in my condescending mercy, I let you run an extra hundred laps. With your knees up to your chest, of course."

Even though Han had heard "you can't be" many times before this time, the phrase was particularly hurtful. Although his master was often a hypocrite and a liar, there was some truth in his words. Han needed power. Only with power could he, not only rest and not only return to his usual way of life but also take revenge on the bastard for all his humiliation. And that really required becoming like him and then surpassing him. But, of course, not with the help of hard work and suffering - after all, he already suffered unbearably and worked around the clock, but it did not bring results. He needed a teacher. But not this charlatan, but a real teacher - a hidden expert and the embodiment of power. This expert introduced some particularly powerful techniques into Han, such as the Heaven and Earth Jade Collapse Method. Of course, if Han asked for it, the new master would beat the bastard, break his arms and legs, and rip all the qi out of him. But of course, Han will never make this request because he will only beat his tormentor with his own hands!

"In the meantime. Have you remembered my last order?"

"Direct the qi into my eyes!" Han clenched his teeth in resentment. "Just be careful!"

"The promise of punishment is as good as the punishment itself!" snorted the master. "And it clears the memory. Would you like to write that wisdom down on a scroll?"

Han didn't want to. The very thought of his calligraphy gift being used on the words of this lowly scoundrel made him feel angry and nauseous like those forest maggots. His neck, head, and heels were also very sore.

"Your face is a little red. But that's natural. In this stance, the blood rushes straight to the head, threatening to tear it. But the same blood also carries qi, so use it, strengthen your head and senses, and use what is harmful to your advantage. Otherwise, what, student?"

"Otherwise I'll never stop being a tadpole, Master!"

"So you see, kicking your heels and rushing blood to your head stimulates your mind," the voice sounded complacent. "Because what?"

"Everything in the body is connected, Master!"

"Now get started! Feel the qi flow, strengthen yourself, strengthen your eyes, and only then do your eyesight."

The master suddenly jumped up and stood in the same stance as Han in a single, unified movement. Except that he stood perfectly straight and did not lean on his arms, folding them across his chest.

"Strengthen the top of your head, student," the explanation followed.

"Yes, Master!" Han roared slightly resentfully.

Instead of this long and unnecessary monologue, he could have simply explained. But no, he had to bully him, to invent new ways to hurt and humiliate him! Han felt like hitting him, or at least kicking him, but he knew it wouldn't work, and he'd be hit in the heels again. The same stick that lay so threateningly nearby, and which he would taste if he didn't start doing his errand now.

Han carefully, as if grabbing a fragile roll of Luzhuo Jiao with chopsticks, separated the qi and directed it to his eyes. But as soon as he lifted his eyelids, he shrieked and fell to the ground. He could not have been more frightened because next to him, a ghostly dragon was grinning its huge sharp teeth in the air!

"And who did you see, student?" The mentor asked, still standing imperturbably on his head.

"S-s-s-s-s-spirit, Master," Han's teeth seemed to have a life of their own, clattering at a furious pace. He even bit his tongue a few times!

"What kind of spirit?"

"One of the Ancestors of the Nao family, Master!" Han replied, taking away his trembling.

He'd seen the Ancestor once before, during that stupid oath. He felt a mixture of relief that the dragon wouldn't bite his head off and fear that the Ancestor's spirit might punish him for his disrespect.

"Then why are you lying around? Greet him with a show of respect!' the master commanded.

Master was still standing on his head, but he folded his arms and imitated a respectful bow. Han hurriedly jumped to his feet and bowed low as well.

"What do you know about Ancestral Spirits?" The master immediately asked him. "How are they different from ordinary ghosts or demons?"

"The Spirits of the Ancestors protect the family and watch over their descendants," he answered. "What about rebirths, Master?"

The spirit shook its huge head with its thick mane disapprovingly, grinned its toothy maw, and flew away, wriggling its long snake-like body. It looked as if Han's company was unworthy of his attention! Han was about to take offense but suddenly realized that his master was still standing on his head, with his back to him. There was no better time to attack! Han quickly took a step forward and struck the defenseless master's back with all his might. But his foot hit the empty space, and the master somehow appeared behind him and gave him a painful kick in the ass, which left Han sprawled on the stone slabs.

"Only the best, those who lived right and thought about family, get the right to become guardian spirits, and only those who kept the family well can be reborn in one of their descendants," the master answered as if the insidious attack had never happened. "This is the cycle of souls, their cycle in nature. If a family lived badly, unrighteously, it would have no guardian spirits, and if the descendants did not maintain the honor of the family, the chain of guardians would be broken. Tell me, student, why did you see the spirit of your ancestor?"

"Because it's made of qi, and that's what's in all living things, Master?" Han suggested, trying to get up.

"Yes, but the point is that the Ancestor is already dead. Only the living can renew, increase, and strengthen qi, be it humans, beasts, gods, or nature spirits. Ancestors, despite being called spirits, are more like ghosts. They only use up their qi by interfering in the world of the living or saving their foolish descendants like you. They gradually dissipate and go back into the cycle of rebirth. Thanks to you, a lot of them will be reborn, and hardly in the Nao family. Do you realize what you've done, tadpole?"

"Yes, Master!" Han lied. He didn't like the fact that the master was making Han, who was the innocent victim, look like a villain instead of himself.

"Do you regret that you weakened the power of the family through your actions? Do you want to redeem yourself, become strong, and master powerful techniques so that you can be reborn as a protector and helper of the Nao family in the future?"

"I am regret, Master! I want to, Master!"

He didn't feel the slightest bit regretful - that's what those ancestors deserved - but Han answered the second question quite sincerely. He really wanted to become strong and save the Nao family from that vile impostor. But of course, he was in no hurry to be reborn.

"Well done! I can't help but reward your sincere remorse! So you won't run a hundred laps, but only fifty."

"Thank you, Master!" Han rejoiced.

"Listing the names of the great ancestors of the Nao Family!"

"Of course, Master!" Han slightly tempered his joy.

"And you'll be running on your hands, of course."

* * *

"Did I call you a tadpole?" The master shook his head. "I guess I was a bit hasty. Unlike an egg that lies somewhere in the mud, a tadpole can swim."

Han was not hurt by comparisons to either tadpoles or eggs, just as he would not have been hurt by comparisons to pig dung. For a very simple reason - Han was trying to survive. He was floundering with all his might, tossing from side to side, trying to rake against the powerful current and somehow land on the bank of the swift but deep river, in the middle of which he had been thrown by the bastard. He was walking carelessly on the surface of the water as if it were a stone-paved imperial road, not a stormy sea.

And when Han had lapped up enough water and gotten his due number of blows against the rocks, he twisted a whole ocean of water out of himself as if he were not a man but a mythical Douloon, a mixture of dragon and fish, capable of drowning an entire city.

"Lowlong stance, student," the master commanded, not even allowing him to catch his breath.

With water still running down his chin, the coughing Han obediently obeyed the order. He hated the pose called "dragon's burden," not even because he had to hold his body horizontally on his hands but because of the master himself. He immediately jumped on his back and corrected him when his body deviated from the correct position due to vomiting. And he did it with his favorite bamboo stick.

"Don't you think the name of the rack is a bit of a misnomer, student?" the master asked. "In our case, "lowgaotou" would be more appropriate, don't you think?"

"Of course, Master," Han replied, gritting his teeth. He had expected any kind of meanness, but the "tadpole's burden" still sounded very offensive.

Why had he suffered so much? Why had Heaven sent punishment? Apparently, Han's sincere tears made even Heaven itself feel sorry for him, for the bastard hit him once more on the ass with a stick and said thoughtfully:

"You did a good job today. You were less petty and lazy than usual. So you're getting meat for dinner. Are you excited?"

"Yes, Master," Han cried even harder, "thank you, Master."

The thought of future meat and past humiliations awakened a wild beast in him, so he tried to throw his master to the ground, pounce on him with his fists, crush his body, and tear him to pieces. Alas, all his sweet dreams were shattered by a stick that struck his heels and ass with the speed of raindrops. Han couldn't take it anymore and collapsed back onto the rounded and hard shore pebbles.

"Is that your gratitude, student?" The torturer clicked his tongue disappointedly.

Han felt the promised dinner floating away to some distant and inaccessible realm, giving way to the night's run. A great quote, "Only meat that has already been eaten can be called yours!" came to his mind, but it was immediately lost, replaced by despair.

"You praised me!" Han quickly found himself. "That's why I wanted to hit you, or at least touch you! To make you even more proud of me and give me more meat! Not only today, but also tomorrow!"

The best meat he wanted to see right now was a good battering. And that meat should be the master himself. Something about meat taken from the enemy in the form of the beaten enemy himself began to arise in his mind but never quite took shape. In the old days, Han would have not only formulated a quote with wit and precision worthy of the imperial palace but would have written it down on a scroll in flawless hieroglyphics. But because of this devil and torturer, he was finished with calligraphy - he had neither time nor strength. He could not hold not only a brush but even chopsticks. Sometimes, he fell asleep with his face on his plate, but he never forgot to eat the contents. His only attempt to write down a thought in a scroll after the rogue had appeared had failed miserably. He had always thought of the brush as his swift blade, but if it had actually turned into a sword, he would have chopped off his arms and legs.

Then his master took the brush from him, dipped it in precious red ink, and, with a few quick strokes, created a perfect inscription on a priceless silk scroll from the province of Qandun. Then he drove Han to practice, effortlessly performing all the exercises with him while beating him with a stick, helping the servants and giving advice to the warriors, and then groping Mother Lihua under the guise of "acupuncture."

It wouldn't have been such a shame if the bastard had used up the ink and the scroll for one of Han's wise sayings that he liked to mockingly quote. But no, the scroll that he had hung on Han's den door bore the beautiful but repulsive inscription "Shivering Tadpole.

"...no good!" came the master's voice.

"What?" Han snapped out of his thoughts. He seemed to have fallen out of reality for a moment due to fatigue and stress.

There was no blowback for inattentiveness.

"I'm saying you've got a great goal. You've got the right method. It's the execution that's a little off."

Han immediately remembered the promised meat, the failed attack, and his admirable cunning that had turned meanness and guile into an act worthy of reward.

"But in general, student, very good...." confirmed the master.

When he was finally convinced that he had gotten away with it, Han relaxed. He was immediately hit in the heels with a stick.

"...for a tadpole! Who attacks from such an awkward position?"

The next day was a nightmare. If anyone could gain new knowledge, it would be the students of the imperial medical schools or even experienced healers, for Han had received so many beatings, wounds, and fractures in his so-called training. The master constantly demanded something, either to repeat the meaning of one of his lengthy speeches, in which he shared "real wisdom, which is not to be found in the capital's schools," or to retell one of the boring and unnecessary treatises. And when Han succeeded in something, he was chased back to the training grounds because "training of the mind should be interspersed with the training of the body and training of the body with the training of the spirit." In the end, everything hurt: his head was in a fog, the pain was in every muscle and bone, and his meridians, which he knew only from crystals, were burning with fire.

"Assume your basic stance for the fight!" again commanded the fiend.

"There is no such thing, Master!" Han shouted back, remembering the previous painful lessons well.

Steel fingers gripped his neck.

"The enemy is already attacking you!"

* * *

In his bloody and torn clothes, beaten, sweaty, and tired, Han mindlessly followed his master, reciting ways to find water in forests, deserts, mountains, and other places without people. There were many ways, each one different from the other and working in a strictly defined area. Han seriously feared that soon the "practical fixing of the material" would begin, and this bastard would use some particularly sophisticated technique to throw him out right in the desert on another continent or in the middle of the ocean. While Han is dying of thirst, he will ostentatiously start eating some food caught and cooked on the spot, saying that Han "will never become like him" and that Han's death from hunger and thirst is just a "temporary hardships".

"Greetings, Master," said a familiar voice.

Han thought he was hallucinating at first because he hadn't expected Mei to visit again. He couldn't remember the last time she'd visited - yesterday, today, a hundred cycles ago? The days had long ago merged into a dense, murky shroud of pain, agony, and shattered hopes. Sometimes, it seemed to him that he had already died, but he had not gone to rebirth but was stuck in the underworld, and his master was one of the demons there, feeding on Han's suffering. He tried to get a good look at Mei, and even through the haze that covered his eyes, she seemed unbearably beautiful.

"Your appearance has brightened my day, oh most beautiful Mei Lin," replied the demonic tormentor.

"And it was a pleasure to watch the training," Mei said cheerfully.

Han froze. Was she watching? Had she seen all the bullying? Mei Ling slightly bowed her head in greeting and gave him a strange look like she had never given him before. He didn't want to face the girl of his dreams in such a pathetic way, but for a moment, he saw a vision of Mei rushing to him, putting her shoulder to his side, helping the haggard and wounded subject to the ground, and then even laying his head in her lap, pitying and comforting him.

"So that's whose attention I sensed! I can only praise, оh most beautiful Mei Lin, for such an excellent disguise."

"But you noticed me!"

"I noticed "someone" but didn't realize it was you. If there's anything that can match your beauty, it's your superior skills."

Han was not even aware of Mei's presence, although, in this state of mind, he would not have noticed the Emperor himself and the entire palace entourage. But with some deep feeling, he knew that in fact the master had not only noticed Mei, not only recognized her hidden qi, but could tell exactly how many beats her heart had taken, what she had eaten for breakfast, and what exercises she had done in the morning.

Mei Lin turned away from the master and scrutinized Han. But instead of the expected sympathy and pity, he saw only a nod of approval. Han stiffened, and his knees trembled finely. Does she like it? She doesn't disapprove of the torture and elaborate abuse he's being subjected to. Does it not touch her at all to see him beaten and tortured?! This betrayal made him want to cry and howl, and Han could barely contain himself, biting his tongue and clenching his fists. He imagined again all the things he would do to his teacher when he became like him, no, many times stronger! How he would return every blow, every taunt, every broken bone - every last little bruise! How he will make him starve, and eat delicious meals right in front of his eyes! How he would quote all his statements, adding after each one a blow with a bamboo stick on his heels! He even wanted to swear the most terrible oath, invoking the spirits of the ancestors, that he would do it even if he had to die to do so!

But the thought of spirits and oaths suddenly sobered him. Han remembered what the last such oath had led to, remembered the betrayal of those spirits who, instead of protecting Han, their descendant, had organized a subterranean kingdom for him on the spot.

Han shook his head, banishing the sweet reverie, and pulled himself together. He was afraid that the teacher would use some special technique to read his thoughts and set up a new cycle of abuse, this time in front of Mei. She was already secretly observing the torture, of course, but this was different!

"Not all of my skills are worthy of high praise," Mei shook her head contritely, turning back to the bastard.

"Don't underestimate yourself," he disagreed.

"But don't overestimate it either. I'm a long way from you. But I really want to be like you."

Han didn't understand where she was going with this, but he understood if this creep said his favorite phrase to Mei, he would come at him with fists.

"Like me..." the master began, and Han growled. "...you don't need to become one at all. You, unlike me, have many talents, and my path is too winding and messy for anyone to repeat."

"You said I have many talents. That may be so. But I need your help to hone them. I realize I'm crossing a line since you already have a student. But I'd really like to call you a Master."

Han was taken aback. Mei knew of the impostor's vile character and his horrifying methods. She had seen all of Han's abuse and torment, but she wanted to go through all of this herself. Voluntarily? No, this was some kind of vile sorcery, dark qi influence, or demonic technique!

"Well. A diamond is beautiful, but without a polish, it's like a cobblestone," said the rascal.

Han gritted his teeth. His father had once brought an unassuming pebble from a camping trip and given it to his mother. Han had been surprised at his mother's joy and gratitude, but only until he saw what it had become after a visit to the jeweler. Han was so impressed that the wise saying was born by itself, his brush flitting across the scroll, forming perfectly clear lines into flawless hieroglyphics. And now the bastard was quoting Han's saying not to anyone, but to Mei herself! Han lunged at the master, but the bamboo stick flashed subtly through the air and struck him in the stomach, knocking out all the air. Han stretched out on the ground. Mei shook her head sympathetically but said nothing.

"As you can see, beautiful Mei Lin, it will be very hard. I will consider that you are a woman, but only to choose exercises, methods, and techniques suitable for a woman's physique. If you don't think you're ready for the difficulty, sweat, and pain, you'd better back off right now. So think carefully."

Han, lying on the ground, even held his breath. On the one hand, he wished Mei would leave and run away from here as soon as possible so she wouldn't have to endure this monster's abuse. On the other, she would always be by his side, a student like her. He could see her every day and every hour!

"I don't need to think, Master!" Mei replied with a ringing voice and bowed with her hands folded. "The main thing is that you don't change your mind."

"A man never reneges on his words, and a warrior even more so," the bastard replied with another quote from Han. "But know that you will regret it, and more than once. Do you understand, Apprentice?"

Old grudges, the shameless use of one of his favorite quotes, and the feeling that something irreparable had happened. It all came over Han with such force that even biting his tongue didn't help. A cauldron of anger boiled up inside, and tears ran down his cheeks. The teacher's back was turned, his arms folded and his body bent in a reciprocal bow. Han didn't hesitate, so he silently got up from the ground and swung at the teacher, bringing his hand over his head to finish off the villain once and for all, freeing himself and Mei.

But the blow never reached its target. Before Han's eyes went black, he felt a whole mountain range collapsing on top of him.

* * *

Han stood on one leg, resting the foot of the other on the knee of the first. The fingers of one hand, folded in a gesture of concentration, almost touched his nose and closed eyes. He held his qi in place, wrapping it around his entire body like a cocoon. He was doing the near impossible - shutting himself off from the world and, at the same time, merging with it, becoming an integral part of it. But, of course, he never received any praise.

"The disguise is no good, student. I could sense the stirrings in your qi even if I were on the other side of the Empire! So you will dine in the dabu stace!"

Han made a frustrated face just in case, but he was even relieved. Just a dabu? He already stood in it sometimes all day long! The main thing was that there would be dinner tonight!

The villain gave him a suspicious look, as if he could see right through him, and then turned to Mei and smiled kindly.

"Apprentice."

"Master," she bowed in response.

Han hoped that Mei's presence would change everything. For the first time in forever, he would be able to eat not in a servants' stable, not in the wilderness or near the training grounds, but at home, at a normal table, with his mother. Maybe he would even get a normal, familiar meal instead of a disgusting slop! It would be a truly wonderful ending to a day so disgusting, so familiar in its disgustingness.

Alas, his wishes proved to be useless fantasies. To Han's horror, the master took him and Mei to the usual servants' shed, where the same fat servant, who was misunderstood to be the cook, poured them the same disgusting brew as usual. In the same disgusting earthen bowls that even dogs would have shunned to eat out of! Since he wasn't allowed to use the bench, Han stood in the dabu stance. It must have looked funny from the outside as if he were sitting at a table on an invisible chair. But the servants didn't laugh. They just bowed respectfully and started eating. Han didn't care. His whole body ached, and all he wanted to do was to eat so that he could soon fall into a deep, heavy, dreamless sleep.

Only Mei's presence detracted from the foul taste of the food, and Han was horrified to see her spit it all out and leave, never to be seen here again. But Mei not only ate it all but managed to do so while gracefully holding her chopsticks, bantering with the servants, and pretending to be honored to dine in such a place. She even praised the cook, saying that the vegetables were delicious and the rice was excellent, and declared that she would follow the apprentice's path from the beginning to the end without any concessions or indulgences.

Han cried and ate, choking, not daring to look up.

"Speaking of indulgences!" the master said loudly. "Today, our Han has distinguished himself and deserves the meat! He did a good job as a real man, so he gets a reward!"

The traitor-servants cheered, and some of them clapped their hands on their thighs in a vulgar and commoner way. Mei smiled, too, and Han's heart warmed. But the warmth was immediately gone as she smiled at the master as well.

"So come on, student, take some chopsticks, eat this delicious chicken breast, and drink some tea!" said the master, and as an example, he was the first to pick up a piece of breast and put it in his mouth. "The real food of the gods! Absolutely!"

Han stared at the master in bewilderment. Mei threw a surprised look, and even the servants fell silent, turning their heads.

"Absolutely!" repeated the master. "That's what the barbarians of the West say when they want to express the highest degree of superiority."

"Absolutely!" Mei repeated, throwing her wands up to the ceiling with a piece of breast in them.

"Absolutely!" supported the other servants.

Han stood in an awkward stance, tired, beaten, and sleepy. He reached for the chicken breast with his chopsticks, feeling unbearable pain with every movement. But as soon as he reached the breast and put it in his mouth, he felt that this tough, dry, unleavened meat with large, unyielding fibers seemed to him the most delicious meal he had ever eaten in his life.

"Absolutely!"

* * *

Chapter 6, in which the hero is betrayed by his relatives and servants, but he finds the bright side even in troubles