Joy of Life - V1C16
Prologue: Nice Guys Finish Last
1- A Child of the Tanmai
2- The Truman Show
3- The Legacy Book
4- Studies and Ghost Stories
5- The Noctural Visitor
6- Master Wu Zhu
7- Master Fei Jie
8- One Year Later...
9- Grandmasters and Divine Temple
10- Overpowering Bàdào Zhenqi
11- The Sea Salt Merchant
12- Farewell for now, Master Fei Jie
13- Mail Order and Newspapers
14- It Hurts Like Hell!
15- Housekeeper Zhou
16- Ay-ya-ya-yaaa
17- The Three Goals
18- The Attempted Poisoning
19- The Assassin
20- Clean Up After Yourself!
Chapter 16
Ay-ya-ya-yaaa
Five kilometres[i] 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 path was concealed among the treacherous rocks on the eastern side. Fan Xian navigated along this route, turning his back to the sea as he looked up, absorbing the thunderous roar of the waves crashing behind him. In his view stood a series of cliffs, formed naturally by the seaside. Beyond the hills, ancient forests and swamps stretched for hundreds of meters, making climbing the cliffs the only way to reach the summit.
As he gazed at the cliffs, Fan Xian frowned slightly, mentally revisiting his usual climbing route. However, the strong sea winds recently had left the rocks on the cliff face unstable, necessitating extra caution for his climb today.
The waves thundered against the reefs behind him, but the rocks were cold and impassable, leaving only some seawater reaching the shallows, rendering this stretch of shore wetter than others. Fan Xian's shoes became damp from standing there, causing discomfort in his feet.
Removing his shoes, he tucked them into a dry, clean crevice just beneath the cliffs. He rubbed his palms together, gathering coarse sand and focusing his internal Zhenqi. Once prepared, he placed his right hand firmly on a subtle outcropping and skillfully lifted his entire body into the air, beginning his ascent as if he were weightless.
He climbed rapidly, his body pressed against the cliff like some strange creature, limbs spread out and adept at scaling heights. Each hand stretch, foot placement, and push upward appeared effortless, devoid of any struggle.
Before long, he approached the summit. The sea breeze from behind cooled his sweat and invigorated him.
I bet Guo Jing[ii] couldn’t climb this quickly, Fan Xian pondered, but the blind man at the peak is a much fiercer challenge than Ma Yu[iii].
As he climbed, memories of the garden played in his mind. Something felt off. Housekeeper Zhou had remained in place for over a year—why had he suddenly faltered today?
The sea winds brought moisture, making the exposed rocks slick. As he neared the top, he let his focus slip, allowing distracting thoughts to cloud his mind. Just then, his right hand slipped, almost causing him to fall.
In that tense moment, Fan Xian remained calm and directed his Zhenqi into his right hand. With three fingers, he secured a tight grip on the only projecting rock that could support him, his fingers shaking but deeply embedded into the stone.
A wooden stick extended down from above, signaling for him to grasp it. Fan Xian seemed to have no interest in taking the stick; he ignored it entirely and began to swing his body. Kicking against the cliff's surface with the tips of his feet gave him the thrust needed to propel himself to the top—an exceptionally risky maneuver.
“You weren’t focusing enough. That could cost you your life.”
At the mountain top, on the edge of the cliffs, Wu Zhu stood facing the sea breeze. His clothes were made from coarse fabric, and a strip of black cloth covered his eyes.
Fan Xian ignored him and sat down in a lotus position. After a short adjustment period, he stood back up and told Wu Zhu about what had happened at the house that day. He also expressed his suspicions, hoping Wu Zhu could provide a definitive 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 displayed his gloomy temperament at the most crucial moment. This was dreadful indeed.
“Then that’s enough.” Wu Zhu didn’t appear to want to probe deeper into the matter.
“This is only my distrust, 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 reveal 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 favor 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 regarding 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 transform into a tree demon.
Fan Xian theorized that Wu Zhu's lack of response could be related to his blindness, which prevented him from perceiving the expressions Fan Xian sometimes unintentionally showed—expressions that were unusual for a child. Just as he had come to terms with being reborn into a new world with his memories intact, he also accepted that Uncle Wu Zhu saw things differently from most people. He never felt the need to inquire about it and was indifferent to it, much like the simple acknowledgment of the blue sky and white clouds.
“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.
At that moment, the intense Zhenqi within Fan Xian responded instinctively, creating a thick layer that shielded his back. However, the wooden stick was quicker, and it “jabbed” him before the Zhenqi could fully react.
The term “jab” referred to the stick being thrust straight ahead by its wielder, with all the force concentrated at the tip.
Fan Xian cried out. Although the young man’s body was safeguarded by Zhenqi, the strike he received was excruciating, sending a sharp pain deep into his bones and causing him to curl up in agony. In one instant, he was writhing on the ground, and in the next, he pushed off the ground with his hands, rolling while still curled up. Fan Xian fiercely kicked behind him.
The sight of such a beautiful young boy executing such a sneaky kick would astonish anyone, but all that answered his attack was a simple slapping sound.
Half-kneeling on the ground, Fan Xian continued to massage his aching ankle, inhaling the cold air with a grimace from the pain.
He understood that begging for mercy was futile, a lesson he’d learned from painful experiences over the past few years. His attention shifted to the blind man standing three meters away, as he calculated his next move. According to their agreement, if he could land even a single blow on the blind man, even just a touch of his clothing, it would be deemed a victory for Fan Xian, earning him a month-long break.
After enduring several years of beatings, Fan Xian had yet to achieve that goal, primarily due to Wu Zhu's incredible speed and his ability to conceal his position. Even more daunting was Wu Zhu’s lack of unnecessary movements that might reveal his intentions, making him utterly unpredictable. For instance, with Wu Zhu, Fan Xian couldn’t even rely on indicators like the direction of his gaze.
Moreover, that unassuming wooden stick had thwarted Fan Xian's attempts to approach with Zhenqi or sneakily, striking like a demonic claw from the underworld, mercilessly hitting his wrists, ankles, or even his fingers.
While they remained unbroken, the pain was excruciating.
What baffled Fan Xian was that no matter how hard he tried to silence his movements, Wu Zhu, blindfolded, could still find and strike him every time despite the roar of the waves crashing against the rocks below.
“Ay-ya-ya-yaaa…” 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, completely drained of strength. Below him, the sea had calmed, glistening golden under the sunlight. The reefs, which had been relentlessly battered by the waves, finally enjoyed a moment of peace as they began to dry slowly. Some crustaceans crawled over them, appearing as tiny black dots from above.
As Fan Xian touched the painful spots on his body, he directed his Qi to assess his internal condition. He realized that the Xueshan had partially absorbed some of his turbulent Zhenqi behind his waist, while the remainder had been exhausted defending against continuous attacks. At that moment, the Zhenqi within him was calm, mirroring the tranquil sea before him.
Fan Xian knew that resting now would not benefit his training, so despite the soreness and pain, he struggled to get up and assumed a lotus position to begin the maneuvers from the Scrolls of Power. He glanced at Wu Zhu, who stood at the cliff's edge. The black strip of cloth covering Wu Zhu's eyes flapped in the sea wind.
That's cool, not just pretending to be cool, Fan Xian thought silently about the blind man. He said quietly, "Be careful, Uncle, or you'll fall."
Naturally, someone as powerful as Wu Zhu would not die from falling off a cliff; Fan Xian was merely joking.
"Don't get distracted," Wu Zhu replied, delivering that single, emotionless sentence before falling silent once more.
With a sigh, Fan Xian began to calm himself and entered a meditative state. After an uncertain amount of time, he gradually returned to his senses amid the sea winds and noticed that the sun had shifted positions. Nearby, Wu Zhu maintained his stance, resembling a sturdy flagpole that could never be broken.
An extremely narrow path was concealed among the treacherous rocks on the eastern side. Fan Xian navigated along this route, turning his back to the sea as he looked up, absorbing the thunderous roar of the waves crashing behind him. In his view stood a series of cliffs, formed naturally by the seaside. Beyond the hills, ancient forests and swamps stretched for hundreds of meters, making climbing the cliffs the only way to reach the summit.
As he gazed at the cliffs, Fan Xian frowned slightly, mentally revisiting his usual climbing route. However, the strong sea winds recently had left the rocks on the cliff face unstable, necessitating extra caution for his climb today.
The waves thundered against the reefs behind him, but the rocks were cold and impassable, leaving only some seawater reaching the shallows, rendering this stretch of shore wetter than others. Fan Xian's shoes became damp from standing there, causing discomfort in his feet.
Removing his shoes, he tucked them into a dry, clean crevice just beneath the cliffs. He rubbed his palms together, gathering coarse sand and focusing his internal Zhenqi. Once prepared, he placed his right hand firmly on a subtle outcropping and skillfully lifted his entire body into the air, beginning his ascent as if he were weightless.
He climbed rapidly, his body pressed against the cliff like some strange creature, limbs spread out and adept at scaling heights. Each hand stretch, foot placement, and push upward appeared effortless, devoid of any struggle.
Before long, he approached the summit. The sea breeze from behind cooled his sweat and invigorated him.
I bet Guo Jing[ii] couldn’t climb this quickly, Fan Xian pondered, but the blind man at the peak is a much fiercer challenge than Ma Yu[iii].
As he climbed, memories of the garden played in his mind. Something felt off. Housekeeper Zhou had remained in place for over a year—why had he suddenly faltered today?
The sea winds brought moisture, making the exposed rocks slick. As he neared the top, he let his focus slip, allowing distracting thoughts to cloud his mind. Just then, his right hand slipped, almost causing him to fall.
In that tense moment, Fan Xian remained calm and directed his Zhenqi into his right hand. With three fingers, he secured a tight grip on the only projecting rock that could support him, his fingers shaking but deeply embedded into the stone.
A wooden stick extended down from above, signaling for him to grasp it. Fan Xian seemed to have no interest in taking the stick; he ignored it entirely and began to swing his body. Kicking against the cliff's surface with the tips of his feet gave him the thrust needed to propel himself to the top—an exceptionally risky maneuver.
“You weren’t focusing enough. That could cost you your life.”
At the mountain top, on the edge of the cliffs, Wu Zhu stood facing the sea breeze. His clothes were made from coarse fabric, and a strip of black cloth covered his eyes.
Fan Xian ignored him and sat down in a lotus position. After a short adjustment period, he stood back up and told Wu Zhu about what had happened at the house that day. He also expressed his suspicions, hoping Wu Zhu could provide a definitive 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 displayed his gloomy temperament at the most crucial moment. This was dreadful indeed.
“Then that’s enough.” Wu Zhu didn’t appear to want to probe deeper into the matter.
“This is only my distrust, 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 reveal 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 favor 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 regarding 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 transform into a tree demon.
Fan Xian theorized that Wu Zhu's lack of response could be related to his blindness, which prevented him from perceiving the expressions Fan Xian sometimes unintentionally showed—expressions that were unusual for a child. Just as he had come to terms with being reborn into a new world with his memories intact, he also accepted that Uncle Wu Zhu saw things differently from most people. He never felt the need to inquire about it and was indifferent to it, much like the simple acknowledgment of the blue sky and white clouds.
“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.
At that moment, the intense Zhenqi within Fan Xian responded instinctively, creating a thick layer that shielded his back. However, the wooden stick was quicker, and it “jabbed” him before the Zhenqi could fully react.
The term “jab” referred to the stick being thrust straight ahead by its wielder, with all the force concentrated at the tip.
Fan Xian cried out. Although the young man’s body was safeguarded by Zhenqi, the strike he received was excruciating, sending a sharp pain deep into his bones and causing him to curl up in agony. In one instant, he was writhing on the ground, and in the next, he pushed off the ground with his hands, rolling while still curled up. Fan Xian fiercely kicked behind him.
The sight of such a beautiful young boy executing such a sneaky kick would astonish anyone, but all that answered his attack was a simple slapping sound.
Half-kneeling on the ground, Fan Xian continued to massage his aching ankle, inhaling the cold air with a grimace from the pain.
He understood that begging for mercy was futile, a lesson he’d learned from painful experiences over the past few years. His attention shifted to the blind man standing three meters away, as he calculated his next move. According to their agreement, if he could land even a single blow on the blind man, even just a touch of his clothing, it would be deemed a victory for Fan Xian, earning him a month-long break.
After enduring several years of beatings, Fan Xian had yet to achieve that goal, primarily due to Wu Zhu's incredible speed and his ability to conceal his position. Even more daunting was Wu Zhu’s lack of unnecessary movements that might reveal his intentions, making him utterly unpredictable. For instance, with Wu Zhu, Fan Xian couldn’t even rely on indicators like the direction of his gaze.
Moreover, that unassuming wooden stick had thwarted Fan Xian's attempts to approach with Zhenqi or sneakily, striking like a demonic claw from the underworld, mercilessly hitting his wrists, ankles, or even his fingers.
While they remained unbroken, the pain was excruciating.
What baffled Fan Xian was that no matter how hard he tried to silence his movements, Wu Zhu, blindfolded, could still find and strike him every time despite the roar of the waves crashing against the rocks below.
“Ay-ya-ya-yaaa…” 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, completely drained of strength. Below him, the sea had calmed, glistening golden under the sunlight. The reefs, which had been relentlessly battered by the waves, finally enjoyed a moment of peace as they began to dry slowly. Some crustaceans crawled over them, appearing as tiny black dots from above.
As Fan Xian touched the painful spots on his body, he directed his Qi to assess his internal condition. He realized that the Xueshan had partially absorbed some of his turbulent Zhenqi behind his waist, while the remainder had been exhausted defending against continuous attacks. At that moment, the Zhenqi within him was calm, mirroring the tranquil sea before him.
Fan Xian knew that resting now would not benefit his training, so despite the soreness and pain, he struggled to get up and assumed a lotus position to begin the maneuvers from the Scrolls of Power. He glanced at Wu Zhu, who stood at the cliff's edge. The black strip of cloth covering Wu Zhu's eyes flapped in the sea wind.
That's cool, not just pretending to be cool, Fan Xian thought silently about the blind man. He said quietly, "Be careful, Uncle, or you'll fall."
Naturally, someone as powerful as Wu Zhu would not die from falling off a cliff; Fan Xian was merely joking.
"Don't get distracted," Wu Zhu replied, delivering that single, emotionless sentence before falling silent once more.
With a sigh, Fan Xian began to calm himself and entered a meditative state. After an uncertain amount of time, he gradually returned to his senses amid the sea winds and noticed that the sun had shifted positions. Nearby, Wu Zhu maintained his stance, resembling a sturdy flagpole that could never be broken.
[i] To make English reading easier, Chinese metrics will not be used. However, it is still interesting to understand the Chinese metrics.
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
[ii] Guo Jingjing (Chinese: 郭晶晶; pinyin: Guō Jīngjīng; born October 15, 1981, in Baoding, Hebei) is a retired Chinese diver, and multi-time Olympic gold medalist and world champion.
[iii] Ma Yu. In Jin Yong's famous wuxia novels (like The Legend of the Condor Heroes), he is depicted as a powerful martial artist and the eldest of the Seven Quanzhen Elders.
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
[ii] Guo Jingjing (Chinese: 郭晶晶; pinyin: Guō Jīngjīng; born October 15, 1981, in Baoding, Hebei) is a retired Chinese diver, and multi-time Olympic gold medalist and world champion.
[iii] Ma Yu. In Jin Yong's famous wuxia novels (like The Legend of the Condor Heroes), he is depicted as a powerful martial artist and the eldest of the Seven Quanzhen Elders.
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