Lanterns swayed in the wind, and snow whirled down over the great courtyard.
At the edge of the drill platform, Xu Buling raised his head slightly and looked at Zhu Chenglie and the two instructors in front of him.
That one line, "Is that any of your business?", had plainly enraged Zhu Chenglie and the others. Anyone who dared open a martial academy on Hutai Street got challengers every day—but by the rules, a challenger sent in his calling card first and set a time for the match. This was the first man to come at them without observing any of that.
Zhu Chenglie tucked up his long robe and belted it at the waist, then glanced at the sword in Xu Buling's hand:
"Revenge, or a challenge?"
Xu Buling laid the sword on the platform and crooked a finger at him. That was his answer.
"Arrogant little bastard!"
Zhu Chenglie's face darkened. His foot slammed into the snow, leaving two deep prints, and his figure had already shot out like an arrow loosed from a bow, both hands striking one after the other, five fingers hooked like iron, swooping at Xu Buling on the platform the way a hawk stoops on a rabbit.
They say the moment an expert moves, you know what he's made of—and Zhu Manzhi, half a head poking above the wall, went taut with nerves at once. Even that stance alone was nothing a street thug could match; this was the difference between a professional and an amateur.
Seeing Xu Buling stay seated to take the attack, the two instructors let a flicker of contempt into their eyes.
The Zhu family's eagle-claw hand came down from the Eagle Claw Sect and ranked as a first-rate art in the jianghu, famed for being nimble and savage. A master of it had the grip to split rock.
A fighter's strength rises from the ground; seated, a man has no way to bring force to bear. How was he going to block Zhu Chenglie's explosive charge?
But what the two instructors did not expect was this: when Zhu Chenglie had come within three paces, the man in the bamboo hat on the platform touched the toe of his boot to the stone rim, and his body was already airborne—no hurry, no strain, and yet unbelievably fast.
Both instructors' pupils shrank at the sight. Before the word "Careful!" could leave their mouths, they saw something beyond belief.
Facing the two iron claws coming at his face, Xu Buling likewise hooked his fingers—only his were nothing like Zhu Chenglie's brute force. His arm thrust out like a swimming snake, coiled up along Zhu Chenglie's arm, and went straight for his throat.
Zhu Chenglie was thrown into confusion, knowing he had underestimated the man. He hurriedly turned his move from attack to defense, leaning back and raising an arm to sweep away the fingers reaching for his windpipe.
Rip—
The sound of a sleeve tearing.
Zhu Chenglie staggered back—thump, thump, thump—putting more than a zhang between them. When he stopped, the sleeve of his left arm had a great tear in it, and four bloody streaks stood out on the knotted muscle of his forearm, as if a tiger had clawed him.
Both instructors' eyes were full of shock, and the contempt was gone from their faces.
If Zhu Chenglie's reaction had been a hair slower, those claws would have snapped his throat.
"The Crane-Catching Hand!?"
Zhu Chenglie's arm would not stop bleeding. He clenched his fist to dull the pain and stared hard at Xu Buling:
"Who are you! Why do you know the Eagle Claw Sect's arts?"
As its name suggests, the Eagle Claw Sect trains the hands. "Eagle Claw" and "Crane-Catching Hand" are its two great secrets, one hard and one soft. The Crane-Catching Hand is the finer of the two, overcoming force with softness and built entirely of deft, cunning strength. It is the sect's face-saving treasure, never taught outside, and even Zhu Manlong never learned it.
To see the man in the bamboo hat use the Crane-Catching Hand with such perfect mastery naturally left Zhu Chenglie wondering where he had come from.
Xu Buling tilted his hat up a little and gave no answer. Both feet slammed down on the ground and he leapt into the air, a roundhouse kick of terrifying speed sweeping at Zhu Chenglie, his white robe churning up a sky full of snow.
Zhu Chenglie's face changed sharply. Without a moment's hesitation he leaned back, planted his left hand in the snow behind him, and grabbed for Xu Buling's crotch with his right.
Slight contempt showed in Xu Buling's eyes. He pulled his leg back in midair and landed, dodging the dirty groin grab.
Zhu Chenglie's strike caught nothing, and he had not even steadied his backflip when Xu Buling drew both fists to his waist and hammered them out like a pair of iron mallets straight into Zhu Chenglie's chest.
Zhu Chenglie, with no time to answer, could only raise his blood-streaked arm to block.
Bang—
Sleeves snapping with a crack. Both fists landed squarely; Zhu Chenglie's arms were driven into his chest and the man himself flew backward.
Having thrown the punch, Xu Buling could not stop his own momentum. He rushed after him, caught Zhu Chenglie by the shin and hauled him back, changed fist into palm, brought both hands together, and delivered a textbook Old Ape Hangs the Seal at the airborne Zhu Chenglie.
"Hold back!"
The two instructors went white. Old Ape Hangs the Seal is a killing move of Xingyi Fist; landed, it maims or kills. They threw themselves forward to stop it, but there was no chance of reaching him in time.
Bang—
They had taken only a few strides when Zhu Chenglie took both palms and a knee full force. The man flew like a cannonball, struck the snow and rolled a long way; when he came to a stop, his mouth was full of blood and he was coughing hoarsely without pause.
The two instructors flew into a rage but did not dare go at him directly; they only glared. "Young Hero Xu, you have no regard for the rules at all—this is a sparring match! How can you strike to kill!" And with that they ran to Zhu Chenglie and helped him up.
Zhu Chenglie lay prone on the ground coughing dully, clawing at the snow and the blue brick several times without managing to rise, his eyes bloodshot as he looked at Xu Buling:
"The Tan Tui Sect's Dragon Wags Its Tail, Tongbei Fist's Golden Dragon Closes Its Jaws, Xingyi Fist's Old Ape Hangs the Seal... just who are you?"
"Eagle-Finger Rambler. Xu Shanshan."
Xu Buling drew his fists back and stood, took the wine gourd from the platform and pulled a swallow, his eyes flat. "I left you alive because I have questions for you. Do you know a man called Sancai? The gambling addict who lost two hundred taels a few days ago."
Zhu Chenglie rose with the instructors' help, blood smeared all around his mouth, and glared at Xu Buling through clenched teeth:
"What is he to you?"
Xu Buling picked up his long sword, his boots crossing the snow, his voice flat: "I ask, you answer. Men who run gambling dens and smuggle private salt don't count as people in my eyes."
Zhu Chenglie gritted his teeth, eyed the long sword in Xu Buling's hand, and swallowed it down for a long while before saying in a low voice:
"He owed me silver. I sent him to White Horse Manor to work off the debt."
Xu Buling frowned. "What is White Horse Manor? Whose property is it?"
Zhu Chenglie gave a cold snort. "You can't afford to cross—"
Before he finished, the long sword at Xu Buling's waist rang from its sheath, White Snake Flicks Its Tongue—out and back in a single stroke.
An instructor beside Zhu Chenglie felt a chill at his chest, then the sting; before a scream could come out, a hand clamped his throat and it became a strangled "uh—uh—", while a thin line of blood across his chest slowly soaked through his robe.
"Half an incense stick without a bandage and he dies right here. Think it over."
Xu Buling held the instructor's throat one-handed, the brim of his hat showing only his chin, without a trace of feeling.
Zhu Chenglie's words cut off. Looking at the instructor's twisted, twitching face, something beyond words was in his eyes—he had plainly never met anyone so ruthless. After a moment he still said in a low voice:
"White Horse Manor is the estate of Young Master Li Tianlu of Kuishou Street. He often takes in gamblers who've lost even their lives. I don't know what for..."
Xu Buling's brows drew together slightly. Zheng Sandao had told him that gambling addicts vanished from Chang'an all the time and that it had to do with White Horse Manor outside the city; he had not expected to come full circle back to where he started.
As for Li Tianlu, Xu Buling did know of him: the second son of Li Baoyi, Marquis of Loyalty and Valor, who lived at the end of the street. The family's forebear had no great achievements—he won the title only by being hacked to pieces saving Emperor Xiaozong. A few generations on, they counted among the top families of Chang'an.
At that thought, Xu Buling released the instructor. "How does one get in?"
"Young Master Li only deals with people he knows. An ordinary man can't get through that gate at all."
Someone he knows...
Xu Buling thought it over a turn, nodded slightly, turned, and vaulted the wall to leave the academy.
Zhu Chenglie let out a breath and sat down hard on the ground, clutching his chest.
The instructor, supporting his wounded brother, watched the direction Xu Buling had gone:
"That man is no simple matter. With skill like that he's either rich or noble. But I've never heard the name 'Eagle-Finger Rambler'—he must have made it up on the spot. What do we do?"
Zhu Chenglie was no fool. A man with that kind of martial skill who dared run wild through Chang'an was either a Wolf Guard of Heaven Camp or the retainer of some power; either way he was not to be provoked. For now he could only swallow the loss:
"From the look of it, he means to go and investigate Young Master Li. Tell my father first, and we wait and see..."
In the alley, Zhu Manzhi had watched the whole thing, and after so many displays of Xu Buling's ruthlessness she was past being surprised. Seeing him vault back out over the wall and remove the hat, she hurried to flatter him:
"Young Master Xu, you were amazing just now—especially that 'I ask, you answer.' So badass..."
Xu Buling smiled faintly. "Spare me the flattery."
"Hee hee..." Zhu Manzhi followed with her hands behind her back, then thought of something. "Young Master, why did you call yourself 'Xu Shanshan'?"
"Bling bling... never mind, you wouldn't get it."
"Oh... then what's 'Eagle-Finger Rambler'?"
"Kato Taka... you're too young for that. I'll explain when you're older."
Xu Buling glanced at the sky. "It's past midnight. Go home and rest first. Tomorrow, ask the Investigation Bureau for a day's leave, put on ordinary clothes, and wait for me at noon at the door of my house in Daye Ward. We'll take a look at White Horse Manor."
Zhu Manzhi answered "Mm," thought about it, and set off with a hand on her saber—after a few steps she still turned back. "The roads are slippery in the dark, Young Master Xu—be careful all the way!"
Xu Buling raised a hand in farewell, then spurred his horse and galloped away...