Cangmang Asks the Way 1: Guardian of the Lamp

"Snapped!"

A bottle of thick black ink came crashing down from the side without warning, slamming hard onto Cang Tianci's newly opened workbook! The ink instantly spread, like a ferocious venomous spider, quickly devouring the neat handwriting and the pristine white pages.

Zhao Xiaohu leaned against the next table, a malicious smile playing on his lips, his eyes defiantly fixed on Cang Tianci's face: "Oops, sorry, my hand slipped..."

A surge of scalding magma erupted from Cang Tianci's head. Sensing the intense fluctuations in its master's emotions, the warm and mellow energy in his dantian instantly became scorching and boiling. His right index and middle fingers instinctively snapped together like a sword, their tips trembling slightly. A concentrated, penetrating energy gathered and flowed at his fingertips—the feeling was so clear, yet so unfamiliar, as if a dormant power had been awakened by rage, yet not yet fully tamed. The rudimentary form of a technique, born of instinct and incorporating the Hidden Dragon's internal energy and the precise striking principles of the Finger-Striking Meridian-Intercepting Technique, instinctively emerged. With just a single thrust, it could accurately strike the numb tendons under Zhao Xiaohu's ribs, causing him to collapse and humiliate him on the spot.

Just as his fingertips were about to strike, his master Chen Jiren's deep, bell-like voice seemed to pierce through time and space, exploding in his mind: "When the fire of the heart burns, the fingertips are easily broken. The way of the hibernating dragon lies in concealment, in forbearance, and in questioning the heart."

"Asking the heart..."

Cang Tianci's movements suddenly froze. The energy gathered at his fingertips dissipated instantly. He took a deep breath, and the Hidden Dragon Technique circulated wildly within his body, forcibly suppressing and channeling the burning fire in his heart, allowing it to sink deep into his dantian. He slowly lowered his head, looking at the mess of ink stains, his eyes shifting from crimson to calm.

The sinister grin of Wang Yaowu from Xiqiao Village as he pushed him into the pond; the steel pipe smashed by Liu Tietou's men at the temple fair in Futian Township; the scrutinizing gaze of the coach from Nancheng Sports School; the ruthless sneak attack by the thugs in the dark alleys of Jixian County; Sun Peng's poisoned elbow strike on the training field… Faces, some ferocious, some indifferent, some full of malice, flashed rapidly before his eyes like a revolving lantern. Finally, they settled on Zhao Xiaohu's face, a face etched with meanness and provocation.

Are these "enemies" and these hardships really just obstacles?

A sense of clarity, like snow water poured over his head, suddenly pierced through him. Those hard, cold, and malicious fragments no longer stirred a burning rage in his heart; instead, they strangely settled and solidified. The boiling magma seemed to be cast into a deeper mold called "endurance," cooling into a metallic texture that examined itself.

It turns out that the cold hardness of the whetstone is to make the blade brighter; the silence of the stepping stone is to help one stand taller. These faces and encounters are nothing more than "hammers" and "anvils" of different shapes handed to him by fate.

Having grasped this point, the last trace of frustration caused by the ink in Cang Tianci's heart vanished. He raised his head, his gaze calm and unwavering as he met Zhao Xiaohu's provocative eyes, a faint smile playing on his lips. His gaze was as if he were looking at a clown jumping around, or perhaps admiring a stubborn rock about to be trampled under his feet.

Zhao Xiaohu felt a chill run down his spine under that gaze. There was no anger, embarrassment, or fear in it, only a bottomless calm, as if his carefully orchestrated humiliation was nothing more than a transparent and clumsy shadow play in the other's eyes. This feeling of being utterly "looked down upon" and even "ignored" was more unbearable than a direct confrontation. A surge of anger, a mixture of shame and offense, suddenly rose within him. The sarcastic words he had prepared stuck in his throat.

Cang Tianci ignored him and silently took out a rag, carefully wiping the ink that had spread across the table. His movements were steady and meticulous, as if he were completing an extremely important task. His composure and focus seemed to calm the surrounding air, silently isolating the noise and malice that Zhao Xiaohu had deliberately created.

A moment of silence fell over the classroom.

Lin Wanqing, standing to the side, kept her head tightly bowed, as if trying to shrink herself into her desk. Her fingers dug into the edge of the drawer until they turned white, her nails almost digging into the wood. She heard the sound of ink splashing, heard Zhao Xiaohu's malicious sneer, and felt Tianci's suddenly tense and forcefully suppressed aura beside her. Her stomach churned, filled with the familiar fear, but this time, it was mixed with a sharp pain for Tianci and a deep hatred for her own powerlessness. She wanted to do something, even just hand him a rag, but her body felt nailed to her seat, her throat choked by an invisible fear. She could only bite her lower lip hard, suppressing all her emotions into a burning, stinging tear in her eye.

Class monitor Lin Ruoxi, who had been studying with her head down, looked up at the noise, her delicate brows furrowing slightly. She saw the mess of ink spilled everywhere, the lingering smugness on Zhao Xiaohu's face, and Cang Tianci's unusually calm profile. She didn't speak up, her gaze shifting between the two men before finally settling on Cang Tianci's steady hand wiping away the ink. A hint of surprise and contemplation flashed in her eyes. She seemed to want to say something, but ultimately remained silent, simply placing her pen lightly on the table with a soft "click." The sound wasn't loud, but it clearly resonated in the silence, like a restrained, authoritative disapproval. She then lowered her head again, as if nothing had happened, but her tightly pursed lips betrayed that she wasn't indifferent.

The class monitor, Song Wei, sat not far away. She witnessed the whole thing, her cheeks puffing out slightly in anger. She glared at Zhao Xiaohu's retreating back, then looked at Cang Tianci with concern. Her lips moved as if she wanted to say something to comfort him, but seeing Cang Tianci's completely absorbed in cleaning, seemingly oblivious to the outside world's troubles, she swallowed her words and only muttered softly with dissatisfaction, "...That's too much..."

Zhao Xiaohu's core henchmen, such as Wang Tao and Li Gang, initially joined in with a few chuckles, but their laughter quickly subsided. They realized that Cang Tianci showed none of the expected anger or embarrassment; his completely unprovoked reaction made their mockery seem clownish. They exchanged glances, their eyes flickering, and eventually, they sheepishly suppressed their laughter. Some lowered their heads, pretending to read, while others touched their noses and looked out the window. The atmosphere became subtly tense for a moment.

Most of the other students, after a brief glance, quickly looked away. The silence in the classroom at that moment carried more weight than any noise. Only the faint sound of Cang Tianci wiping the desk remained, along with a pervasive, complex stillness.

In the eerie silence, Zhao Xiaohu felt as if he had punched empty air and strained his back. He had been anticipating a farce where he could thoroughly humiliate his opponent, not this punch landing on cotton, leaving him feeling like a clumsy one-man show performer. The surrounding silence seemed like the greatest mockery of him; his face turned from pale to red, finally letting out a heavy "humph," as if to break the suffocating atmosphere. He kicked his chair away with a jarring noise and sullenly returned to his seat. However, even back in his seat, the more he thought about it, the more uneasy he felt, a nameless anger rising within him. His father, Zhao Dabiao's admonition, "If someone steps on your head, you have to step on it tenfold!" licked at his nerves like the tongue of a venomous snake.

"Since I can't touch you, Cang Tianci, then I'll touch the people you care about!" he thought fiercely, his gaze fixed on Lin Wanqing, who always kept her head down and was as quiet as a shadow.

He began to observe Lin Wanqing's every move and discovered that she was most afraid of people mentioning her legs and her family background. Thus, rumors and isolation became his new weapons.

A few days later, some extremely malicious and filthy rumors about Lin Wanqing's mother running away with someone began to circulate subtly and in a small circle in the class. The source was hard to find, but it clung to her like a poisonous vine. At the same time, Lin Wanqing began to be deliberately isolated and made things difficult for in group activities and duty assignments. Her silence and forbearance became the reason for many people to choose to turn a blind eye.

A few days later, during a break between classes, the corridor was bustling with people. Lin Wanqing, leaning on her crutches, walked carefully along the wall. Zhao Xiaohu, accompanied by several followers, walked towards her, laughing and joking. Just as they brushed past Lin Wanqing, Zhao Xiaohu's foot "inadvertently" and suddenly hooked!

"ah--"

Lin Wanqing's cane flew out of her hand instantly! She lost her balance and fell to the side with a scream! Her head hit the sharp corner of a desk next to her!

Time seemed to freeze! The surrounding students gasped in surprise!

Just as Lin Wanqing closed her eyes in despair, thinking that a head injury was inevitable—

A figure flashed past like a ghost. Driven by the Hidden Dragon Technique, Cang Tianci's speed exploded to its limit. His left hand swiftly caught the flying cane, while his right hand, with fingers spread wide, gently supported Lin Wanqing's leaning back, simultaneously shifting his body slightly to the side, narrowly separating her from the deadly corner of the table with his own shoulder!

With a muffled thud, Cang Tianci's shoulder blade slammed heavily against the edge of the table, but he remained motionless, steadily supporting the still-shaken Lin Wanqing.

"Wanqing, are you... alright?" Cang Tianci's voice was deep and steady.

Lin Wanqing's face was deathly pale, her whole body trembling like a leaf in the wind, her lips quivering, unable to speak, only able to stare at Zhao Xiaohu in terror. But deep within that terror, there seemed to be an even deeper, almost resigned weariness. She stared fixedly at Tianci, tears welling up in her eyes even more. A sharp sense of guilt, for causing Tianci trouble, pierced her heart like needles. She thought, why is it always her? If it weren't for her, Tianci wouldn't be dragged into trouble time and time again. This thought, like cold vines, bound her even tighter. She lowered her head, unable to look into Tianci's eyes, nor into Zhao Xiaohu's smug face.

Zhao Xiaohu exaggeratedly spread his hands: "Oh dear, Lin Wanqing, how can you walk so carelessly? You almost bumped into me, you scared me to death."

Cang Tianci steadily handed the cane back to Lin Wanqing, helping her to her feet. Then he turned around, his gaze piercing Zhao Xiaohu like a knife: "Zhao...Xiao...Hu! Enough is enough!"

"What? Feeling sorry for her?" Zhao Xiaohu scoffed. "It was her own carelessness, what does it have to do with me?"

Cang Tianci took a deep breath, suppressing the urge to reprimand him on the spot. He turned to Lin Wanqing, his tone more serious than ever before: "Wanqing, let's go... let's tell... the teacher!"

As he spoke, his gaze was firm, but deep down, he wasn't entirely certain. He recalled Teacher Zhang's helplessness in dealing with the rumors last time, and the invisible shadow cast by Zhao Xiaohu's father. But he had no other choice; this was the most direct thing he could do for Wanqing within the rules.

Upon hearing this, Zhao Xiaohu's roguish smile slowly faded, and his eyes turned sinister. He stared at Cang Tianci and squeezed out through gritted teeth, "Well, you stutterer, you've gotten quite the guts, learning to tattle."

He wasn't afraid, but a cruel expectation of "let's see how long you can protect me" grew from his twisted excitement.