Martial King's Retired Life

Volume 11.5 Chapter 68

Snapping out of his stupefied mode, Ming Feizhen stuffed his finger up his nostril. “The hell? Do all of you get such ridiculous names?”

“Ehehe.” Changan Zhile scrubbed the back of his skull. “Only sometimes do we get embarrassing names.”

Ming Feizhen passed over his empty bowl. “Young man, you must remember to live an honest and modest life. Have you ever seen me, Ming Mieba, acting arrogant?”

Changan Zhile froze in disbelief, though it wasn’t known if that was because of what Ming Feizhen said or his appetite.

“Thanks for the food. You can take the plates now.”

“I still have a task, though.”

“Now you’re talking. Less plotting. More sincerity.” Ming Feizhen took out an iron skewer from Changan Zhile’s pocket that resembled a hidden weapon to use as a toothpick. “So, what are you here for?”

Changan Zhile thumped his chest. “I’m here to rescue you.”

“Get lost.”

Changan Zhile tugged up a corner of his lips whilst placing his palms together, generating a loud “snap” sound. “You’ll change your mind once you see what I’m capable of.” He stepped into the formation.

There was no way Changan Zhile could’ve practiced any orthodox disciplines when he was associated with League of Assassins, yet he didn’t bat an eye, mould energy or complain when he stepped into the formation that used sunlight rock as its foundation.

Doesn’t this mean… he’s never trained any internal disciplines? Where does his confidence come from?!

Changan Zhile separated his hands once he reached Ming Feizhen’s side, then ran one hand up the left side and one down the left side - yin and yang. He cracked a smirk again and said, “Keep your guard up.”

***

To make his stance clear, Miguo himself went to guard the formation for a day, but, after all, he was the man in charge, so he couldn’t stake out there all the time. After five days of no visitors, Yungu paid Ming Feizhen a visit again.

Although the three unorthodox factions had different plans, the cornerstone of their plans was the same person. Demon Sect’s Great Guardian wasn’t fodder Yungu could mow down. Not only was Ming Feizhen capable of holding his own weight, but wealth, authority and women wouldn’t sway him, either. As a group of recluses themselves, Sky Palace understood Mount Daluo better than Wudang and Shaolin. Plus, there was no doubt they researched their competition.

Mount Daluo members believed in being upright, observing morals, exercising kindness and not competing for material wealth and fame. Just as white paper was easier to dye different colours, the weakness of such people were extra clear. Sky Palace knew the weakness of every Mount Daluo disciple, which was why Ming Feizhen was different to them. While he showed a lot of openings, it was so difficult to sway his mind that she didn’t know where to start. Therefore, she knew Mount Daluo wasn’t responsible for Ming Feizhen’s lack of interest in her offers. If there was one person who could mould Ming Feizhen into such a challenge, it would be Ming Huayu.

Even after numerous sleepless nights, Yungu had no strategies to deploy. Hence, she decided to do away with strategy and try to pry openings from conversation. “Young Master, I am here to visit again.”

“What is it now?”

Yungu dimpled as though all of her hesitation before was a hoax and walked over to the rock. “I was worried you’d be lonely…”

Yungu: Am I seeing things?

Yungu’s eyes weren’t lying to her. Ming Feizhen really was lying slanted on a big rock, holding a duck leg in his right hand, a sheet of paper in his left hand and a cigarette in his mouth, looking through a pair of sunglasses and humming a tune.

“How does this feel, Sir?” asked Changan Zhile, whilst giving Ming Feizhen a massage.

“Mm, not bad, not bad.” Ming Feizhen exhaled nice and slow. “Go a tad harder on the left shoulder.”

“Roger that.”

“… What in the world?” remarked Yungu.

If Changan Zhile was working, then his rank would be the equivalent of Yungu’s.

Yungu: Why… is he here? And what is he doing?

“This one is here on orders of Master Le.”

Yungu asked, “You were sent… to give him a massage?”

Changan Zhile wiped his sweat. “And cook, brew tea, clean, wash his clothes and do his bed. I am good at all of them.”

Ming Feizhen nodded. “He’s especially good at cooking.”

Yungu staggered backwards.

The two youths looked up. “Huh? What?”

Yungu choked out, “Young Master, has he bribed you? I spent so long speaking to you!”

Ming Feizhen: “Says who? You think I can’t tell it’s a ploy? As if I’d fall for such an obvious trick.”

Yungu shifted her gaze to the duck leg in Ming Feizhen’s hand. “But it looks like you enjoy the food…”

“Man, this bugger treated me to pork trotters, then forced me to eat a stewed duck; it was hell on earth. Had I not been trained, I wouldn’t have been able to endure the harsh torture.”

“I-I lost to a duck?!” Yungu sped off crying.

“I heard Sky Palace’s envoys have all trained Ice Heart, yet you made her cry,” Changan Zhile commented.

“Ice Heart? What’s that? Is it edible?”

Anytime Sky Palace allowed a “herald” out, one could be sure that they had mastered “Ice Heart” - a skill that trained practitioners to become as cool as ice so that they wouldn’t make decisions with a clouded mind.

Changan Zhile shrugged, then returned to massaging Ming Feizhen’s shoulders with the edges of his hands. “Back to what we talking about before. Do you really have no intention of escaping?”

“Can I?”

“Can’t you?”

“… Lord Miguo is far more dangerous than I gave him credit for.”

“Really? I can’t tell.”

“I’m a variable he didn’t account for ahead of time, yet he was able to stop me on the spot. I underestimated him. I do have an escape method, except it would cost everyone here their lives.” Ming Feizhen set down the sheet of paper on hand. “That said, I just came up with a new solution.”

“Which is?”

Ming Feizhen looked over his shoulder. “… Another variable not accounted for.”

***

Though Hua Qing was an exceptionally fast learner, what Zhuo Fengru and Wugou really liked about him was his ability to concentrate on a task, especially when he had the aptitude, knowledge and mentors that he could be boasting about instead. His goal wasn’t to excel as a martial artist but to learn a one-sh*t kill technique.

For the initial two days, Hua Qing saw himself defending justice and punishing evil with Ming Feizhen, trying to become an accomplished man so that he could eventually propose to Su Li. He smiled in his sleep as he envisioned famous heroes across the land attending his wedding to give their wishes. Unfortunately, he ended up regressing instead of progressing in his training.

On the second night, instead of a cheerful visit from Zhuo Fengru or warm visit from Su Li, Kongkong’er entered Hua Qing’s training chamber and fumed, “Are you crazy?! What are you letting your mind wander for?! These skills aren’t yours! You think you’re a hero now? You’re a thief!”

Kongkong’er swung an iron rod at Hua Qing, continuing, “You learnt my skills; you’ll forever be a thief. Hero? My foot! Ask yourself: don’t you know what your worth is? In the first six months under me, you didn’t even know how to scale a wall. Adept? Get over here!” He dragged Hua Qing out from his shell and held him down to bat again. “Remember when you got caught stealing oil and got bashed? You were bed ridden for a month. You were lucky to have even survived.”

“I-I do,” Hua Qing answered from behind his hands.

“Do you remember when you got caught whilst scoping out a target location? Had I arrived a moment later, his dogs would’ve torn you limb from limb.”

“I do,” Hua Qing replied in a muffled voice.

“Take your hands off your head.”

Choking back his tears, Hua Qing pleaded, “Shifu, spare my face.”

“Shut up. Remove them.”

Hua Qing shakily removed his bruised hands to see his Shifu also crying.

Kongkong’er hugged his disciple. “Never forget that we’re thieves. Yes, it’s possible to sleep on a bed with blankets and not worry at night, as well as enjoy expensive clothes and food, but we’re not worthy of those things. We’re just eye sores. We’re thieves who drag ourselves out of a hail of punches and kicks time after time; however, we only have one life. Lose it and it’s gone for good.” Kongkong’er cast aside the rod, then went to the exit. “I apologise for not teaching him better,” he expressed with his head down.

Zhuo Fengru shook his head. “It’s thanks to you that we now have hope. I wish I had a shifu like you back then.”

For the next three days, whether it was owed to the lecture or the beating, Hua Qing was freakishly focused on learning the skill, finally producing results.

Tonight, Hua Qing performed as they hoped for on all three attempts, so Zhuo Fengru made conversation with him. “Still not planning to tell her?”

“T-tell her what?”

Zhuo Fengru touched his beard and winked. “Not even going to ask who ‘she’ is?”

“Stop making fun of me, Elder.”

“I’m not making fun of you. I’m teaching you. Even if we control every variable we can, we only have a 50% chance of success. We may not even make it out of here. If I had the same opportunity, I’d like to tell my wife my greatest joy wasn’t training or being a hero but marrying her and having Yanran.”

“We can do it… We can get through this.”

“I don’t need you to comfort me. I have a wife and a daughter; you don’t have anyone or anything. If you don’t say it now, you’ll never have a second chance. Don’t waste time. Go now.” Zhuo Fengru pushed and kicked Hua Qing out.

Hua Qing rubbed his butt as he wobbled, wondering if his training had any results at all.

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