A young man riding a horse along a forest path…
Little Monkey's horse, though thin from neglect, was gradually growing stronger and sturdier now that it was well-fed.
With its mane standing tall, it proved to be an exceptionally fast runner—clearly a fine, purebred horse.
It was late evening, a time some call ugly. Yet, Little Monkey's appearance was far more than ugly; it was terrifyingly grim to behold. This was his fate.
As dusk began to settle, Little Monkey decided to camp in the woods for the night. Staying among the trees and mountains was, for him, the most comfortable way to live.
He built a large fire and began to roast a wild chicken he had caught on the road, after stripping its skin. He was hungry.
A little while later, the roasted chicken was glistening with oil and smelled wonderfully fragrant. Little Monkey grabbed the chicken and, chewing heartily, leaned back comfortably against the base of a large tree.
The events of the previous day crept into his thoughts.
What a beautiful girl! Was she a celestial maiden, or a sculpture masterfully carved by a great sculptor?
Little Monkey decided she could be neither, because this girl could speak human language fluently.
Not only could she speak, but she was also terribly angry. And she seemed to have a very quick temper. Hadn't she yelled at him furiously and struck him with a whip?
A faint smile appeared on Little Monkey's face as he gently rubbed the stinging whip mark on his forearm.
It was a smile of contentment, of sweetness, of yearning for something. If one were to interpret this smile, it would take millions of words.
A carriage sped furiously along the main road. This was no ordinary carriage; it was entirely painted golden-yellow.
Look at the horses: it was a carriage pulled by four healthy, strong Mongolian warhorses. The carriage door bore the symbol of the Murong Family—the image of a lion.
Inside the carriage sat a young woman as beautiful as a goddess. She was young, tender, elegant, and regal. However, she also appeared extremely proud.
The young woman seemed displeased, irritable. An incident from a few days prior flashed involuntarily in her mind.
"That arrogant, ugly country bumpkin! If I ever see him again, he's dead!" she swore under her breath in frustration. Then, recalling the youth's piercing gaze, a shiver ran down her spine. The next moment, remembering the hideous face of the young bumpkin, a feeling of disgust and hatred arose.
In that brief instant, the young woman's mind whirled with conflicting thoughts. Who was this young woman? And how was she connected to the Murong Family?
The young woman in the carriage was Murong Qingqing, the sole heiress and cherished daughter of Master Murong, the head of the Murong Family.
When you hear the name Murong Family, you might recall the phrase, "hoist by one's own petard." That is correct. The Murong Family was famous for slaying their enemies using the enemy's own most familiar martial art.
Descendants of ancient royalty, the Murong Family was held in great prestige, and it was rumored that they were masters of every martial art in the jianghu. Having consistently stood at the pinnacle of the martial world, their great pride was not surprising.
The last head of the Murong Family had no sons, only one daughter: Murong Qingqing.
As is typical of those raised in absolute luxury—born with a silver spoon—her banner of pride fluttered high in the wind.
Her beauty was celestial; combined with the prestige of being the Murong Family's young mistress and her profound martial skill, her pride became strangely endearing.
Murong Qingqing was a poisonous flower, a thorny flower—a celestial Mandarava Flower guarded by powerful demons. Compared to Little Monkey, the difference was like sandalwood oil and feces, as far apart as heaven and earth.
Yet, sometimes, goddesses fall from grace.
The golden carriage was speeding along. Qingqing, inside, was restless, eager to reach her destination. She addressed the carriage driver in a sweet voice:
"Uncle He, could you please drive faster? Granduncle Jing Hu's Hand-Washing Ceremony is starting soon, and Father will be angry if we are late."
Uncle He replied kindly, "We'll make it, Young Mistress. We are not late yet. We will be there after the next bend."
A moment later, their carriage arrived in front of a spacious residence. The grounds were wide and pleasant, filled with flowers, plants, and large, old, shady trees.
In the center of the compound was a small, simply constructed house. It was clear that the owner was an honest, quiet-loving man.
Jade Fan Scholar Jing Hu...
The owner of this residence was the Jade Fan Scholar, Jing Hu. Scholar Jing Hu and Master Murong were close, dear friends. Murong Qingqing had been sent to attend Jing Hu's Hand-Washing Ceremony on her father's behalf.
Years ago, in the Huashan martial arts competition, Master Murong had been ranked fourth, while the Jade Fan Scholar was only ranked ninth.
However, they admired each other's character, and they had been close friends ever since. That is why Master Murong had sent his only daughter to represent him at the ceremony.
Seeing Qingqing's carriage, Jing Hu was delighted and personally came out to greet them. Jing Hu was thin and looked like an ordinary man. However, his temples were recessed, and his gait was quick and light.
"Young Niece, you've arrived! Come in, the ceremony is about to start. How is your father? I haven't seen him in a long time."
"Father asked me to tell you that he is busy secretly practicing to defeat you at chess, so he could not make it, Granduncle," she replied.
"Hahaha, your father is crazy about chess, Niece! But he has never managed to beat me! Hahaha! Well, well, come, Young Niece. Let's go inside the residence."
Jing Hu then invited Qingqing in and walked toward the house.
The courtyard was already filled with guests. When they saw Qingqing, all the men stared, eyes nearly popping out of their sockets. How could these ordinary martial artists resist the rare beauty of a goddess?
A moment later, the Hand-Washing Ceremony of the Jade Fan Scholar Jing Hu was about to begin.
What is a Hand-Washing Ceremony? It is a formal ceremony for retiring from the martial world. If you are a martial artist, you will have many friends and admirers, but you will also surely have many enemies.
The Hand-Washing Ceremony signifies settling all outstanding grudges and permanently leaving the jianghu. Its central purpose is the forgiveness of all debts of hate and vengeance.
No martial artist should seek revenge against someone who has performed the Hand-Washing Ceremony and retired. This was a fundamental rule understood and accepted by all in the martial world.
After a while, one of Jing Hu's disciples brought out a stool. It was draped with a velvet cloth, and on it sat a large golden basin.
The young disciple poured water into the golden basin. Firecrackers were set off, and the ceremony was declared open.
Jing Hu then walked to the center of the hall with a smile and bowed to the martial artists. The martial artists, in turn, bowed back. Jing Hu began:
"Friends of the martial world, I am deeply honored and happy that you have all gathered here today."
After this initial greeting, he continued:
"Today is the last day of my life as a martial artist. Once this ceremony is complete, I declare that I will have absolutely no further involvement with the martial world. I wish for you all to understand that I have drawn a final curtain on all debts of hate. I trust that all of the elder brothers present today will bear witness to this ceremony for me."
With that, he bowed to all the guests.
At the end of his speech, Jing Hu took out his beloved Jade Fan and broke it in half. He then plunged his hands into the golden basin and washed them.
Jing Hu's life as a martial artist was over. Yet, martial artists are the kind of people who live and drown in the cycle of blood.
The question remained: could the Hand-Washing Ceremony truly pull Jing Hu out of the endless cycle of violence?
Just then,
"Are you Jing Hu? Jade Fan Scholar, rank nine in the martial world, Jing Hu?"
A voice called out.
The speaker was Little Monkey. He had shouted from outside the compound gate. Then, he calmly walked toward Jing Hu.
His appearance was almost comical. His shoulders were broader and larger than normal. His long fingers were muscular and evidently strong.
Because of his thick upper body, his short, bowed legs appeared small and spindly by comparison.
Yet, his gait was quick and light. (Little Monkey had not formally mastered Qinggong, but the essence of the Quanzhen internal energy cultivation made his movements naturally light—a footnote).
His clothes, which must have originally been white, had not been washed in so long that they had turned a dirty brown.
His long hair fell past his shoulders to the middle of his back.
Seeing his appearance, some guests began to laugh. Whispers and snide remarks, even curses, rose from here and there.
However, when they saw Little Monkey's face, the noise stopped abruptly, as if water had been poured on a fire.
His ugly face was pale, as if bloodless. His eyes glowed red like burning embers.
The shadow of death radiating from Little Monkey's body spread, enveloping the entire vicinity. The stench of blood made everyone feel an unsettling discomfort in their hearts.
Qingqing was surprised when she suddenly saw Little Monkey. Then she grew angry. Then, seeing his bloodthirsty eyes, a chilling feeling ran down her spine.
Oh, it's that man I whipped for stopping my carriage the other day! His expression is terrifying. He must be looking for Granduncle Jing Hu. What is he going to do? she worried.
Jing Hu looked at Little Monkey, smiled courteously, and said:
"That is correct, young nephew. I am Jing Hu. Jade Fan Scholar, rank nine in the martial world, Jing Hu—that was my title in the past.
"But today, I have decided to live as an ordinary man. You must surely understand the meaning of the Hand-Washing Ceremony and the breaking of the Jade Fan."
However, Little Monkey countered:
"I don't understand. If you are truly Jing Hu, prepare yourself. I have come to challenge you to a fight."
It was improper to attack someone who had performed the Hand-Washing Ceremony and retired from the martial world, regardless of the reason. This was the code of the jianghu.
Rules define the value of people. Only by adhering to established rules can human society maintain its worth.
However, Little Monkey was a man outside of society. He was a man who lived outside the human community.
He did not understand the meaning of the Hand-Washing Ceremony. The breaking of the Jade Fan was not his business. He understood it only as Jing Hu's problem.
Hearing Little Monkey's challenge, all the guests at the ceremony grew agitated and furious. They drew their weapons, preparing to surround and attack Little Monkey.
Qingqing felt frustrated looking at Little Monkey. Which world has this man been sleeping in? He seems to understand no rules! He's going to die! she thought, growing angry.
"Hey, you! You savage from another world! The Hand-Washing Ceremony means permanently retiring from the martial world! If you challenge Granduncle Jing Hu, everyone here will gang up and attack you!" she shouted at him.
Seeing Qingqing, a faint blush of color returned to Little Monkey's pale, bloodless face.
A warm glow appeared in his bloodthirsty eyes. But it lasted only a fraction of a second. A moment later, his face returned to normal.
"I advise those who are not involved to stand aside. My technique can sometimes be extremely powerful. Jing Hu, prepare yourself!" he said coldly.
Just then, Jing Hu intervened:
"Friends, please hold on! Let me deal with this problem myself. And young nephew, you must be the young man who has become famous lately, the one who defeated Ching Shaung, is that right?"
Little Monkey replied, "That is correct, sir. Ching Shaung was defeated by me."
"Listen, young nephew. Martial arts are limitless. Do you intend to challenge every master in the martial world? You will surely fall into trouble one day. If you want fame and success, do not take the shortcut, young nephew. Serve the common good! Punish the wicked and save the good! Only then will people respect you," Jing Hu explained.
"I do not seek fame, sir. The day I fight the person I wish to challenge, my journey in the martial world will end naturally. Just draw your weapon.
"
Jing Hu realized that the fight was unavoidable. However, he did not want his friends to get hurt. Since this youth defeated Ching Shaung, it was clear that he was no ordinary person.
If they attacked him as a crowd, Jing Hu's reputation, which he had guarded for years, would be ruined. Was he not a top master in the current jianghu?
Furthermore, he sensed that this youth was a good person who had somehow been led astray. Jing Hu felt that if he could only guide the young man onto the right path, he could become someone who would perform extraordinary deeds for the benefit of humanity.
If the martial world friends attacked him, the youth's hatred would reach its ultimate peak. It would be like giving birth to a dangerous villain, a demon, for the world.
Therefore, Jing Hu bowed to the crowd and announced in a calm, steady voice:
"Friends of the martial world, as an exception today, this young man and I will have a duel. Whether I win or lose, I ask for your compassion in letting this young man go."
"Now, young man, you may begin."
As soon as Jing Hu finished speaking, Little Monkey launched his attack.
It was a technique where he leaped toward Jing Hu and struck with both his left and right palms simultaneously. Little Monkey's move was laughable.
Only a martial arts novice would use such a technique. His entire body was exposed in mid-air, his chest wide open.
If the opponent had a sword, all he would need to do is hold the sword straight. Little Monkey's chest would automatically rush onto the blade, and he would be pierced.
Seeing this move, the crowd began to jeer and laugh loudly. However, the audience seemed to have forgotten that Jing Hu was not carrying a sword.
Jing Hu narrowed his eyes when he saw Little Monkey's move and pointed his finger toward Little Monkey's palm.
It was the Solar Meridian Strike technique—Jing Hu's signature move. Many martial artists had been defeated by this single finger. He was confident that this one move would be enough to teach Little Monkey a lesson.
As an experienced master, Jing Hu's technique was advanced and precise. His assessment of the opponent's move was correct.
Experience is not something that can be bought. It is the result of accumulated practice.
He could have retreated to dodge Little Monkey's palm strike. He could have leaped to the side. If he still had the Jade Fan, he could have struck Little Monkey's exposed chest.
But the Jade Fan was gone; it was broken. Moreover, if he dodged backward or sideways, he might lose his balance and completely fall under the opponent's control.
The Solar Meridian Strike was the best counter-attack. But Little Monkey's counter-movement was surprising.
He tried to claw and break Jing Hu's fully energized finger with his fingernails. Jing Hu was astonished.
This young man's martial arts were unique and unlike any style of any known sect. Could they be techniques from beyond the border?
Realizing he could not underestimate Little Monkey, Jing Hu immediately changed his technique, roaring in effort. He contorted his fingers into various forms, striking at Little Monkey's vital points.
The Seventy-Two Jade Fan Techniques. This was the technique Jing Hu had practiced his entire life. Since the Jade Fan was gone, he substituted his fingers for the fan.
The Jade Fan Techniques were brilliant. Like the moon sinking into dark clouds, Little Monkey was quickly drowning in the countless complex strategies of the Jade Fan Techniques.
Jing Hu's fingers were constantly changing form—clustering, curling, and spreading—as they struck Little Monkey's vital points, a beautiful sight to behold.
Twenty moves had passed. Their movements were so fast that only two shadows could be seen in the vicinity.
Jing Hu's movements were like a falcon soaring in the clouds, like a weasel attempting to sever the head of a snake.
He continuously circled and struck Little Monkey with various forms. The Jade Fan Scholar's martial skill was truly profound.
Little Monkey's technique, meanwhile, was sometimes as violent as a storm and sometimes as gentle as a breeze.
Sometimes it was as fast as lightning, and sometimes it was as slow as a long line of carriages moving forward. Sometimes, a single technique would manifest with a different essence.
Little Monkey's techniques were no longer similar to the ten techniques of the White Horse Master. Their form and essence had transformed.
In truth, martial arts are based on essence, not form. Little Monkey's unintentional grasp of this principle was like finding a key that would, in the future, unlock a treasure trove of martial arts.
However, in a fight against Jing Hu, Little Monkey was still considered inexperienced. This was the very first great battle of Little Monkey's life.
For Jing Hu, fighting was nothing new. Was he not the man who was ranked ninth in the Wuhshan martial arts competition?
Moreover, in terms of internal energy, Jing Hu's internal energy was full and robust, like water collected drop by drop over hours, days, and months.
Little Monkey's internal energy was comparatively weaker than Jing Hu's. He had achieved this level only because he had grasped the essence of the Taoist Wang Chongyang's cultivation method.
As time passed, Jing Hu's technique became faster. Under the pressure of his powerful internal energy, Little Monkey's entire body was forced backward.
With a roar, Jing Hu launched his finishing move.
The Rainbow Radiance Technique. People have sometimes seen a huge rainbow arching across the horizon after a rain shower.
Jing Hu's fingers multiplied hundreds of times as they neared Little Monkey's body, bending like a rainbow and simultaneously striking three of Little Monkey's vital points.
With a muffled sound, Little Monkey was hit on all three vital points and fell to the ground like a broken puppet.
The fight was over. Jade Fan Scholar Jing Hu had won. But it was not an easy victory.
Jing Hu had to expend the accumulated essence of his life's practice, and his internal energy was severely depleted. After this fight, he would truly have to retire from the martial world.
Little Monkey was also badly injured from the fierce block on his vital points. He had suffered a severe internal injury.
As soon as the fight ended, Jing Hu walked over to Little Monkey and unblocked his vital points.
"I admire your martial skill, young nephew. To reach this level at your age is truly amazing. If you continue like this, the Emperor of the martial world in the future will be you. But now, you have a severe internal injury. Please allow me to treat you."
Swallowing the surging blood he felt in his throat, Little Monkey replied, "It is alright, sir. Knowing that my martial skill is still insufficient is a gain for me. I admire your skill, but I will return one day to repay this debt."
He then rose from the ground and walked slowly out of the compound. He could not see the eyes that watched him with pity and compassion.
It must be noted here: Little Monkey defeated Ching Shaung in just a few moves, but why was he defeated by Jing Hu after more than twenty moves?
It was because Ching Shaung relied too heavily on the form of his technique and failed to grasp the essence, being too enamored with the intricacy of the Petal-Plucking Sound sword art. This obsession with form was what crippled Ching Shaung.