Cangmang Asks the Way 1: Guardian of the Lamp

The next day, Lin Wanqing's seat was empty. That small empty space, in the morning sunlight, was like a silent, accusing black hole, cold and glaring. Tianci was absent-minded all day. On the training field, a simple step back to catch a punch resulted in him tripping over his own feet and falling heavily onto the mat.

"Heavenly Gift." Zhou Zhenhua's face was ashen, his voice low and menacing. "Did a dog steal your soul? Focus. Fall again, and you'll get twenty more sets."

On the third day, Lin Wanqing finally arrived. She lowered her head, like a leaf wilted by frost, and silently moved into the classroom. But Tianci still noticed it at a glance—on her pale left cheek, there was a large, hideous bruise.

The bruise, like a smear of dirty ink, stained her delicate profile. A surge of hot, burning blood rushed to his head. His gaze was fixed on Lin Wanqing's silent back. The men in Xiqiao Village who beat their wives and children when they were drunk, Wang Zhenkun's arrogant face, the steel pipe smashed in the dark alley... all the memories of violence surged and churned, and an instinct from the deepest part of his being, the instinct to protect the weak, transformed into a flame of anger that burned and surged fiercely in his chest.

For the first time, the school bell that rang in the afternoon did not become his call to rush to the sports school. He quietly followed behind Lin Wanqing, keeping a distance that was neither too close nor too far.

Passing through the bustling main street, I turned into the alleyway, where sewage flowed freely and the stench of rotting food and sour garbage filled the air. On both sides of the alley were low, dilapidated bungalows, many windows barely covered with dirty plastic sheeting or yellowed old newspapers, like murky, lifeless eyes.

Lin Wanqing stopped in front of a small brick house. The door was crooked, the paint peeling off completely, revealing the original color of the rotten wood. She took out a key from the side pocket of her old schoolbag and tried to pry open the rusty old-fashioned iron lock. The key made a harsh, grating "click...click..." sound in the keyhole, each one like scraping against Tianci's taut nerves.

Hiding in the shadows, Tianci watched through the crack in the window as Lin Wanqing put down her schoolbag. The room was extremely dimly lit, with only a few rays of sunlight filtering through a dusty little window, illuminating the simple kitchen—an uneven dirt floor, a stove made of a few red bricks and a piece of rusted sheet metal.

Silently, she walked to the stove, squatted down, and began to light the damp firewood with a match. The match sparked intermittently, leaping and struggling, barely managing to ignite a small, weak flame, which was then extinguished by the dampness. Thick smoke billowed out, choking her and causing her to arch her back, bursting into a violent cough, her thin shoulders trembling helplessly with each cough. The flickering, weak light illuminated her frail figure and the wounds on her face, casting long shadows on the dim wall. She raised the back of her hand, seemingly to wipe away the tears brought on by the smoke, but when her hand touched her cheek, she gasped. In the flickering firelight, Tianci clearly saw a tear finally break free from the grasp of her eyelashes, sliding down her cheek and landing on the muddy ground.

At that moment, Tianci felt his heart being gripped and torn apart by an invisible hand! The cry of "My fate is in my own hands, not in the heavens" echoed in his mind, but crashed against the wall of despairing reality, sounding so pale and powerless. He practiced boxing, he fought desperately, he endured criticism and pain. But when Lin Wanqing needed protection, where were his fists? He didn't even dare to push open that broken door. The "distorted logic of the world" that his elder brother had asked now manifested as Zhang Zhengping's indifference, the Lin family's oppression, Zhao Xiaohu's sinister smile... They were like an invisible yet resilient giant net, trapping him and the people he wanted to protect. Was practicing boxing really enough? Could mere physical strength "see through" this twisted "logic," could it "straighten his spine" and protect the people he wanted to protect? This heavy question, like an ice pick, pierced his boiling blood.

Cang Tianci took one last, deep look at the tightly closed, broken door, the pain and anger in his eyes quickly cooling in the cold wind. He turned abruptly and strode towards the sports school.

Just a few steps from the alley entrance, a violent crash echoed from the broken door behind him. Immediately afterward, Lin Jianmin's brutal roar ripped through the alley's deathly silence:

"Where have you been? Where's the food?" The voice was rough and grating, like a rusty saw tearing at Tianci's nerve endings.

Tianci's steps faltered as if nailed down by invisible spikes. His blood rushed to his head with a thud. He whirled around and shoved himself back behind the pile of rotten, musty-smelling baskets.

Through the crack in the window, blurred by grease and dust, he saw Lin Jianmin, reeking of cheap liquor. His thick fingers were poking at the thin, huddled figure by the stove.

"You good-for-nothing! I come back and there's not even a hot meal for me. All you do is hug your lousy books and read!" Before he finished speaking, he grabbed a book from the desk and threw it at him viciously.

Through the crack in the window, the small body trembled violently, as if whipped by an invisible lash, and crouched down, seemingly trying to pick up the book from the ground.

"Still picking it up? I think you're asking for a beating!" Lin Jianmin's furious roar shook the dust off the windowpane! Tianci's view was obstructed by the clutter inside the room, and he could only see a thick arm suddenly reach out and grab something. Immediately afterward, there was a loud slap, a dull thud of a body hitting something hard, and Lin Wanqing's broken sobs and violent coughs, forced out from deep in her throat after being forcibly suppressed.

Cang Tianci, standing outside the door, had eyes that were practically bloodshot. Every muscle in his body tensed instantly, like a bowstring stretched to its limit. Blood surged wildly through his narrow veins, creating a deafening roar in his ears. A raging fury, powerful enough to incinerate reason and level everything, like volcanic lava suppressed for millennia, surged, roared, and screamed within his chest, threatening to burst through his throat. He wanted to smash open that rotten door, to rush in recklessly, and use all his skills to make that beast pay for his atrocities.

But Coach Zhou Zhenhua's daily admonitions exploded like thunder in his chaotic mind: "Control your emotions. Your fists must listen to your brain. Reckless actions will only harm yourself and others, ruining yourself and those you want to protect!" The rationality he had honed over the years, like countless barbed chains, tightly restrained his limbs from the rage that threatened to destroy everything. He remembered the provincial competition mission he carried, the humble expectations in his parents' clouded eyes, and how, if he acted impulsively and shed blood… he would not only destroy the sliver of light he had struggled to reach, but also push the isolated and helpless Lin Wanqing, trapped in hell, into an abyss of no return! He couldn't, he absolutely couldn't!

He was like a raging lion cub bound by invisible chains, writhing in agony in the putrid shadows.

It turns out that the coldest blade in the world is often coated with the poison of one's closest relatives. The overlapping, hideous bruises on Lin Wanqing's face, along with the extinguished glimmer of light in her eyes as she curled up in the mud, were like two red-hot branding irons, branded deep into Cang Tianci's heart, causing him excruciating pain. The meaning of power had never weighed so clearly and heavily on his spine—he had to strive to become strong enough to crush all obstacles, resilient enough to withstand countless trials, and wise enough to see through the wickedness of people's hearts, in order to cleave through this boundless, suffocating darkness and protect that glimmer of light that could be extinguished at any moment. And his anger and helplessness at this moment were like the roughest, most ruthless whetstone in the world, relentlessly grinding and eroding the still immature and fragile edge he had just forged, giving him a profound understanding of the difficulty and danger of the path of "seeking the truth" that his elder brother had spoken of.

Filled with a burning anger and helplessness that seemed to scorch his very soul, Cang Tianci returned to the Jixian Sports School. On the training field, the air was heavy and oppressive, like leaden clouds solidified before a storm. Zhou Zhenhua keenly sensed Tianci's unusual state. He frowned and instructed Sun Peng to train Tianci. Sun Peng swung his arms as he entered the ring, his eyes filled with his usual impatience, but perhaps deeper still harbored a hint of annoyance he himself wasn't aware of—this guy, whom he had once scornfully called a "bean sprout," had not only surpassed him in the ring but had also made rapid progress in his academic performance. This feeling of being slapped in the face unconsciously infused his attacks with a ruthless determination to suppress his opponent's arrogance.

"Tianci, concentrate, pay attention to the rhythm, use skillful force to neutralize, don't try to withstand it head-on," Zhou Zhenhua shouted in a deep voice.

Sun Peng feinted quickly, his right fist whistling as it hurtled straight for Tianci's face. Tianci raised his hand to block, but his movements lacked their usual agility and precision. A mocking smile played on Sun Peng's lips. Pressing his advantage, he suddenly stepped forward and closed the distance, his left elbow striking Tianci's still-healing ribs with a stealthy and ruthless blow—this strike carried the hidden force of his usual "accidental" attack, its power utterly insidious!

"Ugh!" A sharp pain shot through his ribs like a red-hot steel needle piercing his nerves. Tianci's vision went black. In this pitch-black agony, all the helplessness he had accumulated over the past few days—the resentment towards Zhang Zhengping's prejudice, the heartache over Lin Wanqing's wounds, the shame of witnessing violence but daring not to intervene—suddenly overlapped with Sun Peng's impatient and mocking gaze. Sun Peng's impatient face in his vision began to distort and sway, overlapping with Lin Jianmin's ferocious eyebrows and Wang Yaowu's sneer. Oppression…trampling…bastard…one cold word after another exploded in his boiling brain. How much longer must he endure this?

"Ah—" A roar filled with endless pain, raging fury, and destructive impulse suddenly exploded from the depths of Tianci's throat. His eyes instantly filled with bloodshot veins, and the dam of reason completely collapsed at that moment. He no longer dodged, no longer thought about any techniques, like a trapped beast that had been completely enraged, he lunged at Sun Peng recklessly. The madness with which he wanted to fight to the death made all the surrounding students gasp.

Sun Peng was completely unprepared for Tianci's ferocity. Caught off guard, he was knocked back several steps by the bull-like charge, his back slamming heavily against the soft wall of the training ground with a loud thud, sending a jolt through his internal organs. "Are you crazy, kid?" Sun Peng was both shocked and furious. He steadied himself and unleashed a vicious right hook that whistled through the air, aiming a powerful blow at Tianci's head!

Tianci abruptly ducked, forcefully slamming his forehead against Sun Peng's fist. The violent impact made his vision blur, but the excruciating pain didn't bring him back to his senses; instead, it felt like boiling oil being poured into a raging fire. He lunged forward, his arms tightly gripping Sun Peng's waist and abdomen, slamming his shoulder into Sun Peng's chest. Like a sledgehammer out of control, he relied on instinct and weight to completely overpower his opponent.

"Tianci, stop!" Zhou Zhenhua roared, his body flashing between the two like a ghost! His left hand precisely gripped Tianci's Jianjing acupoint, squeezing and pulling sharply! His right leg flashed between Tianci's legs, twisting outwards with force! His waist suddenly sank and twisted, executing a clean, decisive, and powerful slam!

"boom--"

A heavy thud. Zhou Zhenhua slammed Cang Tianci onto the thick training mat with absolute strength and control. The enormous impact instantly emptied the air from his lungs, bringing his frenzied movements to an abrupt halt.

Although Zhou Zhenhua protected Sun Peng's vitals in time, the residual force of Tianci's impact, which was a combination of all his strength and rage, still made him feel as if he had been struck by a heavy hammer. He groaned, lost his balance, and staggered to his knees. He felt his blood surging in his chest and abdomen, and he felt suffocated, unable to breathe for a long time.

"Cang Tianci!" Zhou Zhenhua pressed down hard on one knee, pinning Tianci down as he instinctively struggled on the mat. His face was ashen with unprecedented fury, and his voice was icy cold. "Look at yourself. Where is that calmness you had on the city tournament stage, that 'seeing through your opponent'? Where is that wisdom of 'using skill to overcome strength'? Have you fed it all to the dogs? Strength isn't used like this. Anger is not an excuse for indulging your instincts and turning into a beast. What's the difference between you just now and those bastards you hate who only know how to throw punches?" His eyes burned with rage as he questioned him sharply. His voice wasn't loud, but it silenced the entire training ground. But beneath this overwhelming rage, deep within Zhou Zhenhua's sharp, knife-like gaze lay a trace of undisguised shock and profound confusion—he understood the resilience and forbearance inherent in this boy who had crawled out of the mountains. What had turned him into a mad beast, driven by destructive rage?

Under Zhou Zhenhua's relentless suppression, the raging fury within Tianci, capable of destroying everything, gradually dissipated. His crimson eyes regained focus, revealing Zhou Zhenhua's enraged face, Sun Peng's writhing figure in pain, and the terrified and bewildered gazes of the surrounding students.

Zhou Zhenhua looked at Tianci, who was now subdued and whose eyes had shifted from rage to emptiness, and his anger subsided slightly. He released the restraints, stood up, and his gaze swept over Tianci's pale, sweat-drenched face. His voice was low and stern:

"Tianci, tell me what happened? What made you like this? Tell me."

Cang Tianci looked at Zhou Zhenhua, his lips trembling, his throat feeling as if it were blocked by scalding sand. That cold and desperate home, Wanqing's father's ferocious face, Wanqing's lifeless eyes... a thousand thoughts, immense humiliation, anger, worry and helplessness crashed over him like a tsunami, leaving him speechless. Only scalding tears burst forth like a broken dam, silently rolling down the boy's pale but resolute cheeks.