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墨書 Inktalez
"I’m quite lucky, you know. That instructor is a real professional, awarded the Black Belt Seventh Dan by the official organization, not one of those self-proclaimed masters from random dojos." Now that they were here, it was only natural to enjoy the rice balls made by Feng Lin.
The three of them sat in the ancient wooden house, and Qi Menglu took a bite of her rice ball while chattering away, mostly directing her conversation at Feng Lin. She was playing with Feng Lin's black cat, almost treating Yang Xiaoyou like air.
Hearing her words, Yang Xiaoyou felt a bit surprised. In his heart's hierarchy, the practical level of Taekwondo was below average and couldn't compare to its reputation. However, if this instructor was indeed recognized as a Black Belt Seventh Dan by the official body, then their practical skills would be quite formidable.
Once you master one style, you can master them all. Every martial arts school that has been passed down through generations possesses considerable combat power when taken to its extreme.
After all, the age requirements for eighth and ninth dan are set in stone; by that time, their combat abilities would no longer be at their peak. The true strongest fighters are usually found within the seventh dan range.
Of course, this range is quite broad. Yang Xiaoyou himself could easily take down those who barely qualify within it. But if someone was unable to reach higher ranks solely due to age limitations and focused on practical skills, they could indeed pose a significant challenge.
The victory in the First Sino-Japanese War helped the Korean Peninsula resolve its crisis of invasion. However, after achieving internal unity, they developed other ideas regarding the Chinese Empire. Although they still appeared to be affiliated with it on the surface, they had thrown out feelers towards nearby Soviet Union and Japan, as well as distant America.
After completing their internal unification, their national pride transformed from pathological to perverse and swelled to unprecedented levels. They would claim any beautiful thing that could be associated with them.
Yang Xiaoyou felt disgusted by this country and its people. Yet even so, he couldn't deny the prowess of several Korean masters he encountered in the Mercenary World. Their techniques simplified Taekwondo's originally flashy attacks into something highly practical after blending various elements.
Now hearing about Qi Menglu's instructor possibly being such a high-level expert made Yang Xiaoyou pay a bit more attention. Typically, strong fighters of this caliber would open gyms in Magic City or the capital; if a dojo master preferred tranquility, this place seemed out of place but intriguing nonetheless.
"Come on, have you lost your mind? Just because someone opens a gym doesn’t mean anything; maybe they're just afraid of being challenged by experts in Magic City or the capital," he muttered self-deprecatingly before starting to munch on his rice ball.
He hadn’t eaten much lately and was relying on past reserves for sustenance. Coupled with his recovery needs, he would have to embark on a food replenishment plan soon.
As he continued listening to Qi Menglu boast about how strong her instructor was and what impressive feats they had performed in front of crowds, Yang Xiaoyou calculated her claims about the instructor’s abilities. However, judging solely from Qi Menglu's tone wasn't enough for an accurate assessment.
The only thing he could confirm was that this fellow definitely met the minimum standard for seventh dan; it seemed they were indeed an officially recognized Black Belt Seventh Dan—there was no deception there.
While Yang Xiaoyou remained indifferent about it all, Feng Lin suddenly spoke up calmly, "Where is the gym?"
"Eh? Lin wants to come too? That's great! It’ll be even better if we practice together; having a comparison makes it more motivating!" Qi Menglu's face lit up with joy at this response, her eyes narrowing into crescent shapes.
"Uh," Yang Xiaoyou glanced at Feng Lin's calm expression and felt the aura around her. She wiped her cold sweat, realizing it wasn't just because Qi Menglu had been overly complimentary that Feng Lin seemed eager to challenge her.
It was precisely because of that gym that Qi Menglu hadn't come to hang out with her last weekend.
"Ahem, alright, alright. Old Master Feng is the Royal Chief Honorary Swordsmanship Instructor; there's no way Feng Lin would go there to learn," Yang Xiaoyou interjected.
"That's true, but it's a pity that holding a sword for too long can cause calluses. Otherwise, I would love to learn swordsmanship from Grandpa Ji," Qi Menglu said, gesturing animatedly.
"You've got it wrong here. Look at Feng Lin's hands—do they have calluses? They're softer than yours. They use special ointments for soaking. A true master of swordsmanship must be able to fully sense the changes in the sword's force; having calluses is not acceptable," Yang Xiaoyou explained with a smile, defending Feng Lin.
"Oh," Qi Menglu raised her delicate eyebrows and said with a long "oh," then smiled at Yang Xiaoyou, "Your hands are softer than mine; how do you know?"
"Uh," seeing Qi Menglu's cheerful expression, Yang Xiaoyou couldn't help but chuckle awkwardly, though her expression appeared quite stiff.
"Do you want to try dying once?" When Qi Menglu opened her eyes, her expression made Yang Xiaoyou feel a great deal of pressure.
"Damn it, this girl’s teeth have gotten sharper." That night, after sneaking back to Monsoon Shrine, Yang Xiaoyou touched the bite marks on her face and felt a bit annoyed.
She had originally come to ask Feng Lin for help with her arm, but since Qi Menglu was here acting crazy, she naturally had no chance.
After feeding her nearly starving pet during a brief visit, she learned about the holiday notice: starting today, they would have a break until the end of Mid-Autumn Festival, which meant about half a month off. This time was enough for her to complete her plans.
At the same time, she contacted her unscrupulous parents and found out that they were indeed in Shanghai during the virus outbreak and even at Pudong Airport. Hearing this news made Yang Xiaoyou feel both scared and relieved.
After understanding their general route, she booked tickets over the phone. Now that the global situation had been stable for so long, processing visas was quite swift as long as there were reasonable reasons and no blemishes or sensitive identities involved.
She also contacted Nobunaga Hideyoshi and arranged some matters. Once Yang Xiaoyou arrived, she planned to directly attack several arms teams of similar scale and swallow their shares.
Since there was about half a month of time, the actions would be swift. Her proficiency with firearms would definitely come into play. The main attacking force would be divided into two groups: one led by Mo Wenfu and the other by herself.
After all, if she worked alongside Mo Wenfu, her tactical analysis skills might be exposed in real combat. This was also an opportunity for her to hone her skills.
As Yang Xiaoyou thought about what would happen after the plane took off, he walked towards Feng Lin's wooden cabin.
However, when he pushed open the unlocked door and saw the misty interior, along with a large wooden tub in the center of the room, a hint of embarrassment flashed across Yang Xiaoyou's face. He quickly turned away and closed the door.
At that moment, Feng Lin was submerged in the wooden tub, with only half of her head above water, blowing bubbles. Although she had no particular expression and Yang Xiaoyou couldn't see anything inappropriate due to the height of the tub, the scene was still quite awkward.
After a moment, hearing the door open, before Yang Xiaoyou could say anything, Feng Lin spoke in a somewhat puzzled tone, "Aren't you not supposed to let boys see?"
This was something Feng Lin had learned from Yang Xiaoyou after she had carelessly changed clothes in front of him. He never expected she would use it against him so soon after he arrived.
"I'm really sorry; this time it's my fault," Yang Xiaoyou said apologetically, genuinely wanting to change his habit of thinking while doing other things.
"Fault? Marriage?" Feng Lin blinked her clear eyes, resembling a tranquil lake, tilting her head and speaking in an utterly casual tone as if it were a perfectly normal day.
Hearing those two words made Yang Xiaoyou's heart race unexpectedly. He suddenly felt a chill run down his spine. "Why did I teach her these things?"
Initially worried that Feng Lin might be taken advantage of by others, Yang Xiaoyou had told her that apart from her future husband, she shouldn't let other men see her; otherwise, she could take whatever defensive measures she deemed necessary.
At that time, Feng Lin hadn't given any other response; she simply drew her weapon and wiped it clean.
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