Over the following days, Lu Hongti could occasionally be seen sitting on the steps, lost in thought.

“…As for joint-locking techniques, the main goal is to strike a person’s joints under certain conditions, causing the bones to dislocate and taking away their ability to fight. Sometimes you use their own force against them, sometimes you forcibly break the joint. I know your own martial arts must already include plenty of seizing and locking methods, so as for the specific techniques, someone as skilled as you hardly needs me showing off in front of an expert… What I want to talk about here are some more direct concepts — working directly on the fingers, ankles, elbows, and knees, with a fairly clear purpose…”

“Sharp eyes, quick hands — crack, snap it. When someone kicks out, instead of thinking about dodging or attacking some other part of them, you catch the leg and apply force directly to the ankle. Wherever it’s headed, you can follow that direction — this spot is extremely fragile, and one strike is usually enough to cripple someone for life… I feel like a lot of martial arts don’t really go all the way or get direct enough about this. Of course, on a battlefield it might not be all that useful, ha…”

“This is the basic concept, and it should be simple enough to explain. Then we can get a bit more specific — the forces on the fingers, the forces on the elbow, the forces on the knee and ankle. There are many vulnerable points on the human body; we can list them out. For instance, on the hand… here, well, one cut here will usually cause continuous bleeding, and behind the ear here it will…”

At first, she’d simply been listening to it as an interesting bit of showing off. Those who had fought on real battlefields knew that every technique, in the end, followed the path of practicality. If you really wanted to talk about breaking fingers and striking joints, martial arts already contained plenty of such ideas, and Lu Hongti herself knew the human body’s many vulnerable points perfectly well. As far as she was concerned, Ning Yi’s explanation was simple stuff — if you throw a palm strike at me, I break your finger, or I take your elbow and strike back the other way. What was there to even discuss?

But as the explanations grew more and more detailed, something began to feel different.

Too detailed, too clear, too systematic. Every statement about the human body seemed to be analyzed with a rigorous “because, therefore” structure, and some of the vulnerable points were things she truly had never thought carefully about before — even points she was aware of, she’d never have consciously aimed for as a first-priority goal in the middle of a fight.

“This… who taught you this?”

“Huh?”

“It’s as if… you’re using your investigative methods to study martial arts…”

Ning Yi thought about it, then nodded and smiled. What he’d actually been describing was really a summary of various modern combat techniques from his past life, mostly aimed at self-defense. In his previous life he had, after all, studied a bit of this and that — jiu-jitsu, aikido, Muay Thai — though later on there was no way he could have studied any of it systematically.

Aside from the fitness aspect, though, what he’d mostly been exposed to were high-lethality techniques meant for self-defense, along with military hand-to-hand combat and many special-forces skills. There was no need to tell Lu Hongti exactly how to execute any of it — she was already far too skilled in that regard. So what he offered her was analysis on a broader conceptual level, meant to sharpen the clarity of purpose.

“…For a master, there are probably all kinds of different responses available. But at the level of an ordinary person, if you train sharp eyes and quick hands over and over, aiming to destroy a few specific points on the body in the shortest possible time, and pair that with the internal energy of a second-rate expert… becoming a truly top-tier master this way might be a stretch, but in a specific situation, going up against someone’s soldiers, it could be more efficient. Don’t aim for being comprehensive or varied or muddling through — see the goal clearly, train specifically for it, cut in like a scalpel… well, ‘scalpel’ is a term from my investigative studies…”

“For instance, you could consider grouping five or so people together to specifically study infiltration, mutual support, silent killing, paired with long-range observation… It’s not only you who can go out alone to plan an assassination — several people coordinating as a system can raise the efficiency of an assassination or a diversion, but it requires deep study, finding the patterns, searching for weaknesses… well, these ideas belong to the next topic — we’ll discuss this again in a few days. For now, let’s talk about martial arts…”

“I have a few sets of fist forms. I’m not sure how useful they really are, but since you’re my teacher, why don’t you take a look and judge for yourself. If they’re useless, just treat it as entertainment. The first set was basically built around these weak points — unfortunately one of my hands isn’t working well, so the demonstration might not be up to standard…”

Eight or nine days had already passed, and Ning Yi’s left hand could now move a little. Of course, according to Lu Hongti, a full recovery would take about half a year of continuous treatment, though it shouldn’t leave any major lasting damage. The first fist form was, naturally, military combat boxing — a killing style built entirely around practicality and fatal vulnerable points. Of course, learning it didn’t guarantee it would actually work; as with joint-locking techniques, extensive practice was indispensable, and even if an ordinary person trained in it, that didn’t mean they could use a build like Ning Yi’s to defeat opponents on the level of the Yang brothers. Ning Yi himself wasn’t likely to spend a great deal of time training in this for now. Still, Lu Hongti could see at a glance exactly what was contained within it.

“This… should be a fist style aimed purely at speed and power. Below a certain level of skill, it really is… terrifying.”

“At the utmost extreme of speed and power, could it compete with a first-rate master?”

Ning Yi was curious about this. Lu Hongti sat there and smiled faintly, then walked over in front of him. “Come and hit me.”

“I’m wounded, and besides, I don’t hit women…”

Ning Yi spread his hands, but before he’d even finished speaking, his right hand was already getting ready to throw a punch. Yet the instant the thought crossed his mind, and his fist had only just begun to close, all the strength suddenly drained out of it — Lu Hongti had silently pressed two fingers against his elbow, then withdrawn them. His right fist tried again, and this time, ignoring his injured left hand, he tried to strike with both at once — Lu Hongti’s fingers casually tapped at both his hands, tapped once at his leg as well, her skirt hem swaying as her toes quietly flicked against his ankle. When he then tried to lunge forward with his head to bite at her, she gave his forehead a light push just as his mouth had opened a crack — it snapped shut, and he ended up with a bean popped into his mouth.

From start to finish, Ning Yi’s hands and feet had never even managed to lift off before being stopped. All he’d done was sway on his feet a few times. He now clapped a hand over his mouth, looking thoroughly aggrieved. “That’s not fair…”

Lu Hongti laughed, rather pleased with herself. “The autumn wind hasn’t yet stirred, but the cicada already senses it. Your investigative approach aims for a simple goal, but if your qi and blood tell me what you’re about to do before you’ve even lifted your hand, then what use is it no matter how fast or how strong you are? Once you start learning proper forms and techniques later, your teacher will tell you — those moves aren’t just for show. If our skill levels were close, the moment your shoulder so much as twitched I’d already be raising my hand; the instant you saw my finger move, your stance would have to change immediately, and then I’d know that move of mine was useless too, and I’d have to adapt again…”

She thought for a moment. “But if all you want is quick results, this fist style is honestly enough…”

“Fine, I guess I’m only cut out to be a second-rate expert…” Ning Yi, still chewing on the bean, spoke somewhat indistinctly. That afternoon they studied military combat boxing a little more, and also chatted about the novel Demi-Gods and Semi-Devils. The next day, Ning Yi demonstrated a set of tai chi for her, muttering as he moved.

“In tai chi, from the state of no extremity comes movement; the mechanism of motion and stillness is the mother of yin and yang…”

That line was about all he actually remembered, but it didn’t matter — it already sounded mysterious enough. Once he’d said it, he quickly shut his mouth and struck a profound, inscrutable pose as he began his demonstration. In truth, what he practiced wasn’t even some impressive-sounding tai chi form, but the version practiced by old men and old women in public parks — from the opening posture through Grasping the Bird’s Tail to Single Whip. It was early morning, and Lu Hongti sat on the steps eating small red berries she’d picked in the woods, laughing as she watched.

“You’re joking — what kind of fist style is this? Who ever moves this slowly? How are you supposed to hit anyone with this?”

Ning Yi’s left hand still wasn’t entirely cooperative, and at this he stopped. “Quiet! Watch carefully and think it over, no laughing… Shallow-minded!”

Embarrassed into anger, he went back to the start while Lu Hongti popped a little berry into her mouth and nodded seriously, though there was still laughter in her eyes. By around the time he reached White Crane Spreads Its Wings, Lu Hongti was chewing thoughtfully, and murmured, “This is a spear-and-shield soldier’s fist form — only the intent behind it feels a bit scattered.”

Step Forward, Deflect, Parry, and Punch; Apparent Close-Up; Open and Close Hands; Right Single Whip; Elbow Strike… Ning Yi’s movements were soft and unimpressive, and his form wasn’t especially standard either — after all, his mindset was thoroughly rational and logical, and things like data-driven, systematized military boxing and vulnerable-point analysis suited his taste far better. He was really only doing this to see if the form would be of any use to Lu Hongti. Partway through the routine, Lu Hongti was already frowning as she watched, and by the time he finished, she sat there pursing her lips. “Is that all of it?”

“Yeah, that’s all I know.” Ning Yi spread his hands. “So, what do you think?”

“I can’t make sense of it…” Lu Hongti’s tone had grown a little subdued. She looked off to one side, as if talking to herself. “This fist style of yours is too strange. It’s broken — it shouldn’t be like this. This is something Daoist. My teacher was a Daoist nun, she…”

Her teacher had already passed away, and there was no telling what she might have once taught her, but this era certainly had no such thing as tai chi. Ning Yi knew perfectly well that the tai chi he practiced had already been transformed over time — if a martial art could be divided into training methods and combat methods, this wasn’t even really a training method at all, closer to dance. Since Lu Hongti seemed to be genuinely working something out from it, he didn’t want to interfere too much. Around noon he took a gourd to fetch water, and when he came back, he found Lu Hongti in front of the ruined temple, repeating the tai chi form — except that from the opening posture through Grasping the Bird’s Tail, she had stopped and restarted three times in a row.

She would stop, start over, and change something; sometimes she’d shake her head, think for a while, then change it again and try once more. By the time she finished a full run-through this way, more than two hours had passed, and in some places the movements had changed so much that Ning Yi couldn’t even recognize them anymore. Once she finished that run, her pace shifted between fast and slow, and by then most of the dance-like qualities had fallen away entirely — what remained looked ruthless and battle-hardened, and yet, with her skirt hem swaying, there was still a distinct heroic beauty to it. One execution of Deflect, Parry, and Punch even snapped a small nearby tree, the air whistling sharply as her strikes cut through it. After that run-through, she began again, refining and varying the movements, this time slower again, but with even more changes worked in.

By dusk, the fist form still hadn’t stopped. The setting sun slanted through the gaps in the trees, and faint white mist curled up from the top of Lu Hongti’s head. She had already reworked the form several times, fast and slow by turns, and to Ning Yi’s eyes, each version looked more frightening than the last. Eventually she built a fire and cooked dinner; by the time the food was ready it was already night. Ning Yi was still debating whether he should tell her to stop, when Lu Hongti gathered in her energy and came over on her own, sitting down beside him.

“Figured it out?”

“I can’t make sense of it. Some parts of this form are clearly meant for battlefield use — that part’s easy enough to work out — but some other parts are harder…” She shook her head. “Overcoming hardness with softness — it’s like the Daoist ideas about yin and yang. That doesn’t seem like something that would come from your investigative studies… Where did you really learn all this…”

“Uh, when I was little, a Daoist priest passed by my house…”

Lu Hongti laughed. “And recited two poems for you, I suppose… Don’t try to fool me — I already asked around. If you don’t want to say, then don’t; if you tell me you thought it up yourself, I suppose I’ll just have to believe this world truly does have geniuses born already knowing such things…”

Prying into someone’s skills and training was, after all, generally considered improper, and Lu Hongti took that quite seriously. Ning Yi shook his head. “If there really were someone like that, I’d genuinely want to introduce you to them — but there truly isn’t anyone… Well, it really is true that softness overcomes hardness — there are some rather compelling ideas about it. Want to hear them?”

And so that evening he spun out all sorts of talk about tai chi theory once again — some of it things he’d come across here and there, some from television, and some even drawn from business philosophy. Some of it was pure nonsense, some too abstract, and the business-management angle was too practically minded — but Ning Yi did have his own coherent framework on that front, solid enough that he could have written a paper on it without much trouble, though it had little real bearing on martial arts.

For Lu Hongti to fully recreate tai chi wasn’t likely to be something achievable in a day or two. Over the following two days, Ning Yi force-fed her, duck-stuffing style, a whole string of concepts — inch-power boxing, Wing Chun, half-step crushing fist, Jeet Kune Do, and the like. Ning Yi himself had never actually trained in any of them, only knew fragments here and there — for instance, he had a rough idea of how to stand in the “character two clamping goat stance,” but how it was actually used was left entirely to Lu Hongti to work out. His descriptions of close-range inch-power striking methods were likewise made up as he went — this technique can be struck this way, and it produces this kind of effect, and exactly how it achieves that, well, who’s to say. As for things like the emphasis on spirit and presence in Japanese kendo and bushido, or the fighting spirit of Muay Thai, he tossed those in for good measure too.

Part of it was simply that talking about all this cost him nothing. But for Ning Yi, it wasn’t purely about showing off, either — he genuinely found the subject interesting. Martial arts would go on developing for another thousand years, with transformations, advances, and setbacks along the way. In the end, he was curious to see what would happen when the experience and temperament of a true martial arts master combined with a thousand years’ worth of concepts, all dumped on her at once — what shape it would eventually take.

His feelings toward Lu Hongti at the moment roughly came down to three things: first, they were friends; second, they were trading partners, and there might be other things he could ask of her down the road — she was, in effect, a hidden resource; and third, this was an investment, and he was genuinely curious to see what it would turn into in the future. Of course, there was no need to overthink it this much — but since they were friends, he was happy to offer her whatever he could, especially since, for him, most of it cost barely any effort at all.

Originally, he’d intended to offer Lu Hongti something in exchange for her martial arts manuals, so over the past several days he had been thinking things through, organizing information, considering exactly what would suit her needs. It was much like managing a company for someone in his spare time, working out various proposals — he first needed to understand the actual inner workings of that “company.”

And so, a few mornings later, Ning Yi said to Lu Hongti, “Next I’d like to discuss the situation in the Lüliang Mountains with you — the yearly raids and incursions by the Liao army for plunder, and the conditions in the villages you have up in the mountains. I already have a rough outline in mind, but there’s still a lot I’m not entirely clear on. After that… I’ll help you put together a complete plan — I’ll map out some prospects and a development blueprint for you, one that takes your actual circumstances into account, of course, and that will actually be usable.”

Lu Hongti took a good while to process this, then finally looked over at him. “I roughly understand what you’re saying, but… you actually understand this kind of thing too?”

Ning Yi smiled. “This is what I’m truly good at. It should be of some help.”