Gray Wolf retreated continuously. His upper clothing had been torn apart by Su Jie, his hands braced against the ground.
But Su Jie lunged with a “Hoe Strike,” breaking through his defense, striking with his entire body. Gray Wolf’s chest took a headbutt, feeling as if his sternum had cracked, the pain leaving him breathless.
In the instant Su Jie pounced, he unleashed a seamless barrage—hand strikes, elbow strikes, shoulder strikes, abdominal strikes, rib strikes, hip strikes, back strikes, knee strikes, stomping kicks, and headbutts. Every part of his body became a weapon, striking wherever it landed!
To outsiders, Su Jie’s move was far from elegant. Once he lunged, he grabbed whatever he touched, tore what he grabbed, ripped what he tore, and split what he ripped—like a madwoman in a frenzy. Yet this was the true combat essence of traditional martial arts, embodying the predatory style of wild beasts. A tiger pouncing on a sheep or an eagle seizing a rabbit—lunge, press, then fling, tear, rip, knead, and crush, using full force to shred the prey in the shortest time. It was the most ferocious and ruthless.
In less than three seconds, Gray Wolf retreated three steps. Not only was his upper clothing shredded, but his belt and pants were torn to tatters, even his underwear reduced to rags, exposing unsightly parts. Fortunately, his agility, strength, and keen danger sense spared him; otherwise, it wouldn’t be his clothes torn apart but his limbs and head!
“This is the truest Chinese martial arts!” Su Jie had never fought like this before. He knew many variations of the “Hoe Strike”, but in real combat, there was no chance to display them all—once unleashed, it was kill or be crippled. Now, with Gray Wolf wielding a dagger against him, Su Jie fought desperately, unleashing the move’s full potential without restraint.
In those two or three seconds, his body stretched freely, exhilaration surging as he let out a long howl. With a final stomp, he struck Gray Wolf’s stomach, sending him crashing into the alley wall before sliding down. Gray Wolf struggled on the ground, trying to crawl but failing.
Stripped bare, Gray Wolf covered his vital parts with both hands, curling into a ball.
“What? Not so cocky now?” Su Jie pulled out his phone, recording Gray Wolf’s naked state as evidence.
“You wait, kid,” Gray Wolf spat, still talking tough.
“Brother, why go this far? It’s a lawful society. I could send you to the police, but in the spirit of healing and saving, I’ll let it slide this time. Reform, start anew—gold awaits the prodigal’s return.” Su Jie smiled.
Hearing this, Gray Wolf nearly died of rage, blood foam spewing from his mouth.
“Get lost.” Su Jie kicked him. “Can you move? If not, I’ll call Haoyu Group to pay for your doctor.”
Gray Wolf struggled to his feet, fleeing naked through the other end of the alley. The hatred in his eyes told Su Jie he wouldn’t let this go.
Su Jie packed his things and left, avoiding further trouble. His sister still worked at Haoyu Group, after all. He kept the evidence—these videos would be a surprise blow when the time was right. Acting rashly now would only alert the enemy, ruining his plan. He knew Haoyu Group’s power dwarfed his own; clashing head-on was like an egg against a rock.
The skirmish—from Gray Wolf’s appearance to being beaten and their brief exchange—lasted two or three minutes, barely affecting Su Jie’s training schedule. He headed to Starshine Combat Fitness Club as planned, training with Hua Xing and others.
Bang!
Sparring with Hua Xing, after testing each other with punches and kicks, Hua Xing suddenly used jiu-jitsu, attempting a takedown. Su Jie shook him off, flipping Hua Xing onto the ground instead.
“Why are you so strong today?” Hua Xing asked, puzzled. He sensed a leap in Su Jie’s skill, courage, and spirit.
“Nothing much, just a sudden realization,” Su Jie replied, feeling at ease during training. His fight with Gray Wolf had been an epiphany, like a Buddha awakening—his body flowing freely. That was true combat.
Still, he’d held back. If he’d pounced again after kicking Gray Wolf airborne, he could’ve killed him. But Su Jie couldn’t cross that line. He even admired Gray Wolf’s ability to dodge his relentless assault and escape after taking a stomach kick—a testament to the foreign mercenary’s skill.
He threw Hua Xing down a few more times. This national-level fight coach was now completely outmatched. Training until night, Su Jie returned home, sleeping soundly as if nothing had happened—his mental resilience unshakable.
For an ordinary student, even a petty thug’s threat would be terrifying, let alone Gray Wolf’s. But Su Jie didn’t care, sticking to his routine. This was thanks to Odell’s training, especially the “Great Corpse State,” refined to a “neither dead nor alive” mental state. Nothing seemed to shake him. He’d set his life’s path and would follow it.
Vaguely, a truth brewed in his heart, ready to erupt but lacking an outlet. Before bed, he texted his sister Su Mocheng about encountering some “rich kids” today, leaving the decision to her while offering input.
Tomorrow and the day after were school holidays—rare breaks for senior students. Most would relax, but Su Jie had no such notion. He slept at 9 p.m. with the “Great Corpse State,” waking at 3 a.m. for training until 6 a.m.—literary, martial, and endurance practice—for nearly four months without a single day’s break. Without Odell’s beatings, he trained himself, slapping, pressing, or striking walls and trees. His body, forged day and night, was undergoing a transformation.
At 3 a.m. the next day, he trained in the neighborhood park. During literary practice, he reflected on his seconds-long clash with Gray Wolf, growing more excited as insights flooded in. Ignoring formal techniques, he imagined Gray Wolf attacking with a dagger, dodging and countering. Soon, one Gray Wolf became two, three, four. He evaded with footwork, striking back with ruthless precision, lost in this self-crafted mental state.
Bang!
He elbowed a tree, shaking it violently, then clawed off a chunk of bark. On a person, it’d tear flesh and bone. Finishing, Su Jie felt invigorated. Next time he faced Gray Wolf, he could end it faster, maybe even disarm and subdue him barehanded.
“Young man, isn’t your intent a bit too vicious?”
As Su Jie wrapped up, a voice came from nearby—a middle-aged man in linen clothes, likely an early riser exercising. Near the park was the Hunyuan Tai Chi Martial Arts Hall; its students and teachers trained daily. Once, Su Jie had seen an old man perform pure taiji forms, each move brimming with power, unlike typical park taiji. He’d thought the academy had substance and planned to visit, but hadn’t found time. This man’s clothes, though, bore no Hunyuan Taiji mark.
It was still dark, only 4 a.m. after an hour of practice, silence reigning. Early November brought autumn chill to the park, with few out this early.
“I’ve only trained a few months; I’m not good,” Su Jie said humbly. The deeper his martial arts grew, the more cautious and modest he became—insights from the Book of Changes. Odell had taught him its first lesson: the “Qian” hexagram, a mountain within the earth. One should have a mountain’s lofty virtue, hidden in the vast earth, unnoticed, for all to prosper.
“Lying’s not a good habit, young man. That intent and skill—even twenty years of hard training under a master might not achieve it,” the linen-clad man said, frowning. Stepping closer, he studied Su Jie’s face, as if reading it.
Su Jie started to explain, but the man raised a hand. “No need. I believe you. Your face says you’re not lying.”
“Can a face reveal lies?” Su Jie felt this man was bluffing.
“The face reflects the heart. It reveals character, past, even future,” the man said, handing Su Jie a handwritten card: “Master Ma.”
“If I’m right, you’re in grave trouble—bloodshed looming, even harming your family. Trust me, come to this address. I can help.”
“Fortune-telling? Bloodshed?” Su Jie smirked. He didn’t believe in fate, especially after studying the Book of Changes. Supposedly, all fortune-telling stemmed from it, but to him, it was a guide to life and virtue, not divination. No wonder scholars across dynasties deemed it essential for self-cultivation, family, governance, and peace.
He who grasps the Book of Changes defies fate. “Heaven moves with vigor; the gentleman strives ceaselessly. Earth’s form is receptive; the gentleman bears all with thick virtue.”
With these truths, one breaks through all, invincible—how could fate bind him?