Joy of Life - V1C15
Chapter 15
Ay-ya-ya-yaaa
Five kilometres[1] from Danzhou, a hazardous area covered with reefs, extends along the shore. The sea winds churned the blue water, smashing it against the rocks into large sprays of white foam.
An extremely narrow passage was hidden among the dangerous rocks on the east side. Fan Xian walked along that path. He turned his body so that his back faced the sea. He looked up and listened to the deafening sound of the waves behind him.
In front of him lay a series of cliffs. This mountain was formed naturally beside the sea. Behind the hill, ancient forests and swamps stretched for hundreds of meters, making scaling the cliffs the only way to reach the top.
Looking at the cliffs, Fan Xian frowned slightly. In his mind, he retraced the usual path he took when climbing. However, the sea winds had been strong lately, and the rocks protruding from the cliff were loose. He would need to be more cautious than usual to reach the top today.
The sea crashed against the reefs behind him, but the rocks proved cold and impossible to cross. Only some seawater reached the shallows, making this part of the shore wetter than others. Fan Xian’s shoes got wet from standing there, and his feet felt uncomfortable.
Taking off his shoes, Fan Xian placed them in a clean, dry cavity just below the cliffs. He rubbed his palms together, gathering coarse sand and adjusting his internal Zhenqi. Once ready, he firmly planted his right hand on a discreet outcropping and skillfully lifted his entire body into the air. He started to climb as if he weighed nothing.
He climbed swiftly. With his entire body pressed against the cliff, he resembled some strange animal, four limbs spread out, skilled at climbing. Every time he stretched out his hand, placed his foot down, or pushed himself upward, it all appeared effortless; there were no signs of struggle.
After a short while, he was nearing the top. The sea breeze blew behind him, cooling his body heat and sweat, revitalizing him.
“I bet even Guo Jing[2] couldn’t climb this fast. But the blind man at the peak of this mountain will be much fiercer than Ma Yu.[3]”
Fan Xian reflected on what happened in the garden as he climbed. Something didn’t feel right to him. That trusted housekeeper of the second wife had stayed put for over a year. Why did he happen to mess up today?
The sea winds carried moisture, making the exposed rocks slippery. Fan Xian relaxed his focus because he was nearly at the top. Thinking about what happened earlier only distracted him more. His right hand slipped, and he almost fell.
As perilous as that appeared, Fan Xian remained calm and channelled his Zhenqi into his right hand. With three fingers, he gripped the only piece of projecting rock that could support him. Slightly trembling, his fingers appeared immovable, deeply embedded in the rock.
A wooden stick reached down from above, inviting him to take it.
Fan Xian seemed eager to avoid this stick. He didn’t even glance at it, instead starting to turn his body. He kicked off the cliff’s surface with the tip of his foot, generating enough momentum to propel himself upwards. The move was as risky as it appeared.
"You weren’t paying enough attention. That could jeopardize your life."
At the mountain summit, on the cliff's edge, Wu Zhu faced the sea breeze. His clothes were made of rough fabric, and a strip of black cloth covered his eyes.
Fan Xian ignored him and sat down in a lotus position. After a brief adjustment, he stood again and told Wu Zhu what had happened at the house that day. He also shared his suspicions, hoping Wu Zhu could give a clear answer.
“You think a single slap will keep the housekeeper in check?” Wu Zhu asked coldly.
“I do, as long as Grandmother is on my side,” Fan Xian said as he lowered his head. While he didn’t imbue that slap with Zhenqi, the great power stored within his fragile young body over the years was still frightening. More importantly, he demonstrated his gloomy temperament at the most crucial moment. This was dreadful indeed.
“Then that’s enough," Wu Zhu said, not wanting to probe any further into the matter.
This is only my suspicion, but why did the housekeeper choose to stir things up today? He has been in Danzhou for over a year, keeping a low profile. Under normal circumstances, there would be no reason for him to show his true colors now unless he feels he has reached his limit and expects something to happen in Danzhou soon. Perhaps, in his eyes, I’m no longer a threat to my half-brother in the capital, so he no longer sees any need to curry favour with me.
Fan Xian smiled bitterly, a look that contrasted with his youthful face.
It was indeed strange, now that he mentioned it. If Fei Jie felt uncertain and fearful about Fan Xian’s early maturity, Wu Zhu, on the other hand, seemed unbothered by it. It appeared that Wu Zhu wouldn't react to anything concerning Fan Xian, even if Fan Xian were to turn into a tree demon.
Fan Xian speculated that Wu Zhu’s indifference might come from being blind and unable to see the expressions Fan Xian sometimes unknowingly wore, which were not typical for a child.
“That’s trivial,” Wu Zhu suddenly interjected, sensing that Fan Xian was overanalyzing the situation.
“I predict that someone will come to kill me. Is that trivial?” Fan Xian replied with a laugh.
Wu Zhu responded coldly, “Fei Jie and I have taught you so much. It only becomes non-trivial if you can’t handle something as simple as that.”
Fan Xian thought for a moment and accepted the fact. He realized that Uncle Wu Zhu would not intervene this time.
“Let’s begin,” he said.
“Ready!” came Wu Zhu's response.
After a long while, Fan Xian removed his tunic from a remote area above the cliffs. “Again,” he moaned dejectedly to the side.
As soon as his voice faded from the cliffs, a wooden stick came down from above, mercilessly striking his back with a muffled crack.
Currently, the overwhelming Zhenqi inside Fan Xian had reacted automatically, forming a dense layer that blanketed his back. However, the wooden stick was even quicker and “stabbed” him before the Zhenqi could respond.
The term “stab” indicated that the stick was thrust in a straight line by its owner, with all the force directed at the tip.
Fan Xian let out a cry. Although the youth’s body was protected by Zhenqi, the blow he just received sent pain down to the bone, causing his body to curl up. One moment, he was writhing on the ground in pain; the next, he pushed off against the ground with his hands and started to roll while assuming the same curled-up position. Fan Xian ferociously kicked behind him.
Seeing a handsome young boy perform such an insidious kick was enough to shock anyone, though what he responded to was a simple slapping sound.
Fan Xian half-knelt on the ground, continuously massaging his ankle. He inhaled the cold air as his face twisted from the pain.
He understood that begging for mercy was pointless, as this had become clear over the past few years. All he could do was watch the blind man standing three metres away and plan his next move. As agreed, if he managed to land even a single hit on the blind man, even on his clothing, it would count as a victory for Fan Xian, and the reward would be a month-long break.
Having endured several years of beating, Fan Xian had yet to achieve success, partly because Wu Zhu's astonishing speed and his ability to keep his movements concealed. Even more intimidating, Wu Zhu made no extra gestures that could hint at his next move, rendering him unpredictable to Fan Xian. For instance, with Wu Zhu, cues like line of sight could not be exploited.
Secondly, that unassuming wooden stick, every time Fan Xian tried to approach Wu Zhu with Zhenqi or other sneaky tricks, it would move like a demon’s claw from hell, ruthlessly slamming into Fan Xian’s wrists, ankles, or even his fingers.
They weren’t broken, but they hurt. The pain was intolerable.
What puzzled Fan Xian was that no matter how hard he tried to muffle the sound of his movements, Wu Zhu, through his blindfold, could still find and strike him every time without fail despite the roaring of the waves crashing into the rocks below.
“Ay-ya-ya-ya…” Taking another hit to the wrist, Fan Xian cried out, his voice dragging like he was singing an opera. He moved away from that merciless, blind man.
Fan Xian lay on the edge of the cliff, exhausted. The sea below had settled, shining with a golden hue from the sunshine. The reefs, battered constantly by the waves, finally found a moment of calm and began to dry out slowly. Some crustaceans crawled over them, looking like tiny black dots from above.
As Fan Xian touched the painful spots on his body, he directed his Qi to examine his internal condition. He realized that the Xueshan had partially absorbed some of his turbulent Zhenqi behind his waist. At the same time, the remainder had been exhausted to defend against the relentless strikes. At that moment, the Zhenqi within him was calm, resembling the tranquil sea before him.
Fan Xian knew resting now would do his training no good, and so, despite the soreness and pain, he got up with great difficulty and assumed a lotus position as he began to carry out the maneuvers from the Scrolls of Power. He glanced at Wu Zhu, standing at the cliff’s edge.
The black strip of cloth that covered Wu Zhu’s eyes flapped in the sea wind.
“That’s cool, not just acting cool.” Fan Xian silently judged the blind man. He said softly, “Careful, Uncle, or you’ll fall.”
Naturally, a powerful character like Wu Zhu would not die from falling off a cliff. Fan Xian was only making a joke.
“Don’t get distracted.”
Wu Zhu only spoke one emotionless sentence and stopped responding to Fan Xian.
Fan Xian signed, then steadied himself and entered a state of meditation. After an unknown amount of time, he returned to his senses amid the sea winds and noticed that the sun had already shifted its position. Not far from him, Wu Zhu maintained the same posture, resembling a sturdy flagpole that could never be broken.
The Chinese word for "metre" is 米 (m)). For "kilometre," the term is 公里 ((gōngl)). Other related terms include 厘米 (lím)) for centimeter and 毫米 (háom) for millimeter. 里 (lǐ): A traditional unit of distance, similar to a mile or kilometer. One li is roughly \(500\) meters
[2] Guo Jing is the fictional protagonist of Jin Yon wuxia novel The Legend of the Condor Heroes by Jin Yong.
[3] Ma Yu, Qiu Chuji and Wang Chuyi of the Quanzhen School teach Guo Jing some basics of their school's inner energy cultivation techniques.
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