Cangmang Asks the Way 1: Guardian of the Lamp

Three days later, Tianci was discharged from the hospital.

On a sweltering summer afternoon, Xiqiao Village was enveloped in a stifling heat. Cicadas chirped incessantly, and faint waves of heat rose from the dirt road. A tall, upright figure, carrying a simple bag, walked along the stone path at the village entrance into Xiqiao Village.

He is Cang Zhenye's eldest son, Cang Lifeng, who trained in martial arts in Nancheng for four years. Now, he stands nearly 1.8 meters tall, like a pine tree that has suddenly grown taller. Beads of sweat from his journey cling to his bronze skin, gleaming with a robust luster under the blazing sun. Four years have tempered the silent and stubborn boy who left home into a man of sharp edges, exuding an undeniable sharpness.

The villagers' attention was drawn to him, and they whispered among themselves about the astonishing change. Before he even reached his doorstep, some nosy neighbors gathered around, chattering about how the Wang family had beaten Su Yumei and Cang Tianci a few days earlier.

As Cang Lifeng listened, his face darkened visibly. A chill seemed to freeze deep within his calm eyes. He quickened his pace towards home.

"Mother! Heaven's gift!"

Su Yumei was sitting by the kitchen door picking beans when she heard the sound. Looking up, she was startled to see her tall, imposing eldest son. She froze for a moment, then burst into tears of joy, exclaiming, "Lifeng, my son, you're back!" She put down the beans and quickly stood up. Cang Tianci also poked his head out of the house, calling out excitedly, "Big brother!"

Cang Lifeng rushed forward to support his mother. His gaze, sharp as a knife, quickly swept over the faint bruises on her face, finally settling on her calloused hands, which trembled slightly with emotion—a clear, scabbed mark on the back of her hand, drawn by a fingernail. His younger brother, Tianci, was not only pale, but when he timidly called out "Big Brother," Cang Lifeng keenly noticed a small, horrifying bruise near his temple.

These two details, like two red-hot daggers, pierced his heart. A surge of emotion, a mixture of heartache and rage, rushed to his head. He suppressed his impending outburst of anger, helped his mother back to her stool, and said, "Mother, I overheard some things on the way here about you being beaten. Tell me, what exactly happened?"

With tears in her eyes, Su Yumei recounted the events from Wang Yaowu pushing Tianci into the water, to her being humiliated and beaten when she went to reason with him, and then to Tianci being knocked unconscious by Wang Zhenkun while protecting his mother... She described everything in more detail than ever before, every detail and every harsh word seemed to be carving into Cang Lifeng's heart with a knife.

When Su Yumei recounted how Cang Yuanzhi went to the Wang family to reason with them and was then distorted by Wang Zhenkun, Cang Lifeng's brows furrowed even more. He recalled his second uncle telling him stories of the Korean War when he was a child. That leg was his second uncle's pride, but also his wound. Wang Zhenkun dared to trample on even his second uncle; that showed just how arrogant he was.

Four years had passed. He had imagined the hardships his family would face, but he never imagined Wang Zhenkun could be so vicious! A primal urge to violence surged within him, compelling him to rush out immediately and make the other man pay in blood. But just as he was about to take that step, Master Zhou's warning was like a bucket of ice water poured over him: "A common man's rage may spill blood five steps away, but what then? You'll lose yourself, leaving your family to be slaughtered. Is that filial piety or stupidity?"

He abruptly stopped, his fists clenched so tightly they cracked. He recalled his first year at the South City Martial Arts School, when Master Zhou made him get up at four in the morning every day to practice horse stance, his legs trembling like withered branches in the wind. His master only said one sentence: "Lifeng, remember, having a hard fist isn't skill; knowing where to strike is what matters." He didn't fully understand then, but now it was as if someone had lit a lamp in his mind—pure anger wouldn't solve the problem; he needed a kind of power, a power that could make the abuser taste extreme pain, a power that could shatter their arrogance, yet leave no room for any leverage.

In a flash, the "Finger Strike to Seal Meridians" technique taught by Master Zhou Qingfeng appeared in his mind. A clear tactic took shape in his mind—use "Finger Strike" to let them taste the bitterness of being "unable to express their suffering"!

"I did what I thought of." Cang Lifeng said angrily, "Mom, this old scoundrel has gone too far in bullying my Cang family. I'll go and confront him!" After saying that, he turned to leave.

"Lifeng, stop right there!" Cang Zhenye, who had just returned from the fields, happened to hear this at the door. His face changed drastically, and he hurriedly blocked the door with his body, saying, "You can't go! The Wang family is deeply entrenched; we can't afford to offend them. If you go and a fight breaks out, we'll have no grounds for argument. Then they'll have even more excuses to destroy our family!"

Cang Lifeng stopped and looked at his father's face, etched with wrinkles from the weight of life's hardships. He comforted him, "Dad, don't worry. I'm not the reckless youth I was four years ago. In the four years in Nancheng, I learned not only martial arts but also how to handle things. What is Wang Zhenkun's greatest asset? His official position and his hypocritical facade of 'reasoning.' I'm not going there today to fight to the death; I'm going to tear off his mask in front of the whole village! Don't worry, I know what I'm doing and how to deal with this kind of villain."

These words, spoken with a calmness and strategic thinking beyond his years, left Cang Zhenye momentarily stunned.

Cang Lifeng said no more and strode out the door. He didn't rush straight to the Wang family's house, but instead went around to the big locust tree in the village where many people were chatting, and said to a few villagers who were chatting, "Fellow villagers, I'm going to the Wang family to seek justice for the beating of my mother and injury to my brother. You can all come together to witness this." He wanted to use these people to spread the news.

The villagers reacted in various ways. Some were excited, waiting to see a big show; others avoided eye contact, not daring to get involved; and a few who were usually close to the Wang family quietly shrank back, exchanging meaningful glances. This was exactly the effect Cang Lifeng wanted; he wanted to prevent Wang Zhenkun from covering up the whole affair.

Then, to the astonishment of the villagers, he walked straight toward the most magnificent house at the east end of the village.

Tianci stood at the door, watching his older brother stride away. He wanted to call out, "Brother, be careful!" but the words stuck in his throat. He clenched his fists and followed.

"Clang—"

With a loud crash, Cang Lifeng kicked open the vermilion gate of Wang Zhenkun's house, a symbol of power. The door slammed against the wall, groaning in pain.

Inside the courtyard, Wang Zhenkun and Zhao Jinhua were having lunch in the main room when the sudden commotion startled them. They hurriedly dropped their bowls and chopsticks and ran out. Upon seeing Cang Lifeng standing there with his hands behind his back, his face stern, their hearts skipped a beat. But Wang Zhenkun, being a seasoned veteran, quickly suppressed his shock. He sized up Cang Lifeng's muscular physique and thought to himself: In broad daylight, in front of everyone, would this young man dare to lay a hand on me, the village secretary? That would be a crime! With this thought, he straightened his back and sternly rebuked him: "Cang Lifeng! What do you mean by this? Trespassing on private property, acting lawlessly? Can't you come to the village committee if you have something to say?"

Zhao Jinhua also came to her senses and, as usual, put her hands on her hips and started cursing: "You little beast, you've got some nerve coming to my house to cause trouble..."

Cang Lifeng ignored her foul language, his gaze like two cold awls, fixed firmly on Wang Zhenkun's face, and said coldly: "Secretary Wang, I'm here today to ask only one question: Why were my mother, Su Yumei, and my brother, Cang Tianci, beaten by your Wang family? Please give an explanation in front of the villagers." His voice wasn't loud, but it clearly reached the ears of the villagers standing outside the door watching the commotion.

Wang Zhenkun sneered inwardly; so this was it. He immediately switched to his well-rehearsed story: "Lifeng, you're wrong about that. I know exactly what happened. Your brother fell into the pond while playing, and your mother came to my house to cause trouble without even asking what happened, and even hit someone first! I was just trying to break up the fight! As for Tianci, he bit me like a little wolf cub, and I shook him off in pain, accidentally bumping into him! How can you believe only one side of the story and come here to interrogate me?" He deliberately raised his voice so that everyone outside the door could hear.

Hearing him continue his shameless and distorted truth, the last trace of warmth vanished from Cang Lifeng's eyes. Without another word, he strode forward, grabbing Wang Zhenkun and Zhao Jinhua's arms on either side, saying, "Secretary, it's not convenient for us to talk outside. Let's go inside and discuss this privately!"

After saying that, he ignored the couple's screams and struggles, dragged them straight to the inner room, and slammed the door shut, shutting out all the prying and noise.

Inside the room, Wang Zhenkun and Zhao Jinhua were terrified, their faces pale: "Cang Lifeng, you...you dare to do this!"

Cang Lifeng, his face ashen, walked up to the two men who were paralyzed with fear, and with his fingers like halberds, precisely and swiftly struck the special meridian acupoints on Wang Zhenkun and Zhao Jinhua's bodies.

"ah--"

"Awooo—"

A deep, bone-chilling ache, numbness, swelling, and pain! Wang Zhenkun and Zhao Jinhua felt as if the spots where they were struck were being pierced by red-hot iron rods, followed by a sensation of countless ants gnawing at their bones. The indescribable, bizarre pain caused their bodies to convulse, and they were drenched in sweat. Pig-like screams burst uncontrollably from their throats. They had never experienced such strange pain in their lives; it felt as if their very souls were trembling.

Wang Zhenkun's vision blurred with pain, but what terrified him even more was something else—the young man hadn't even left a red mark where he'd struck. He'd terrorized Xiqiao Village for twenty years, beaten and trampled countless people, but he'd never seen anything like this. This wasn't just a fight; it was something completely beyond his reach and comprehension. That feeling of being out of control terrified him more than the pain in his hands.

Outside the gate, the villagers who had gathered stirred at the piercing screams emanating from inside. The screams seemed genuine, sending chills down their spines. Someone whispered, "That kid Lifeng... he's so ruthless?" Immediately, someone else chimed in, "Don't let someone die!" But another whispered, "Serves them right! The Wang family is always so domineering; finally, someone's taught them a lesson!" The speaker was an honest man who had been bullied by the Wang family before; he quickly shrank back, afraid of being seen. Soon enough, a member of a branch of the Wang family ran to report the incident. In no time, five young men from the Wang family, wielding sticks and shovels, stormed into the courtyard and blocked the entrance to the inner room.

Hiding in the crowd, Tianci saw his older brother kick open the vermilion gate. His mother had gone through that gate just three days ago. When she came out, her face was bruised, and she was holding him, unconscious, in her arms. He suddenly felt a heat rise in his chest, but at the same time, he trembled with fear.

Just then, the door opened. Cang Lifeng walked out calmly, his expression serene. Looking at the tense situation before him, he asked indifferently, "What are you all doing here? I've come to have a heart-to-heart talk with Secretary Wang, not to fight."

The five young men were stunned by his calm and composed demeanor and froze on the spot.

At this moment, Wang Zhenkun and Zhao Jinhua scrambled out of the house. Both were deathly pale, their clothes soaked with cold sweat. Wang Zhenkun pointed at Cang Lifeng and roared at the five young men, "Break his legs! I'll take responsibility if anything happens!"

Upon hearing this, the five young men shouted and charged forward, brandishing their sticks!

Cang Lifeng's eyes sharpened, he gathered his strength in his dantian, and shouted: "The villagers are my witnesses, it was the Wang family who struck first!" Before he finished speaking, he had already rushed forward like a cheetah.

The burly man at the front swung his club, but Cang Lifeng dodged to the side, seized the man's wrist, and chopped down with a palm strike—the man screamed and fell to the ground, the club slipping from his grasp. Almost simultaneously, a shovel swept down, and Cang Lifeng took a half-step back, the blade grazing his ribs, tearing his clothes and drawing blood. He frowned, and using the momentum of his retreat, twisted his body and kicked the man wielding the shovel in the back of the knee, causing him to kneel down.

The third and fourth men pounced from the left and right, swinging their clubs in unison. Cang Lifeng braced himself against them with both arms, a dull thud followed by excruciating pain. He gritted his teeth, then slammed his shoulder into the ground, sending the two men staggering and tumbling into a heap.

The fifth young man was the most cunning, lurking on the outside. Seeing that Cang Lifeng had killed four people and was slightly out of breath, he seized the opportunity and swung his hoe fiercely at Cang Lifeng's right calf! If this blow landed, it would break bones and tendons.

"Big brother, be careful!" Tianci cried out in alarm.

Cang Lifeng caught a glimpse of the hoe out of the corner of his eye. In a split second, he mustered his strength, curled up his right leg, and leaned his body backward. The hoe whistled past his calf and trouser leg, cutting a deep gash from which blood gushed out instantly.

The excruciating pain only fueled his ferocity. His eyes turned cold, and he slammed into his opponent's arms with one foot. He parried the opponent's arm with his left hand, and with his right hand, his fingers formed a sword—a sharp strike to cut off the pulse! He swiftly pressed on the nerve plexus under the opponent's ribs.

The young man felt a numbness in his ribs, his body went limp, the hoe fell to the ground with a thud, and he collapsed limply.

In less than two minutes, all five burly young men collapsed to the ground, incapacitated.

He stood up, panting heavily. Blood was still dripping from the wounds on his left ribs and right leg, and his forearms were swollen and red. But he still straightened his back, his gaze sweeping over his groaning opponents on the ground, and finally landing on Wang Zhenkun and Zhao Jinhua, who were pale as death. He said loudly, "Fellow villagers, you have all seen this! I, Cang Lifeng, came here today to reason with you, but Secretary Wang allowed his clansmen to attack me with weapons. I was forced to defend myself, and I had no other choice."

"You...you're talking nonsense!" Wang Zhenkun trembled with rage. He pointed at Cang Lifeng, his voice shaking with agitation, "It was clearly you who trespassed and assaulted someone..."

"Secretary Wang!" Cang Lifeng interrupted sharply, "Arguments are meaningless. You accuse me of injuring you, but where is the evidence? Where was the injury? If you can't produce evidence, it's a false accusation. You should think carefully about this charge!"

Wang Zhenkun and Zhao Jinhua instinctively checked the spots on their bodies where Cang Lifeng's fingers had poked them—aside from the still-lingering, strange pain, there wasn't even a red mark. They were speechless, pointing at Cang Lifeng, stammering, "You…you…" for a long time, unable to utter a complete sentence. For the first time, they experienced the bitterness of being unable to speak out, of having no one to confide in. It was a cold despair, a feeling of being crushed by absolute power, stripped of even the pretext for resistance. Wang Zhenkun stared intently at Cang Lifeng, the fear in his eyes gradually replaced by a deeper, colder resentment. He realized that this young man was unlike any opponent he had ever known.

Cang Lifeng didn't give them another glance. Under the villagers' complicated gazes, he straightened his back and walked steadily away from the Wang family compound.

Wang Zhenkun stood there, staring at the receding figure. His hand instinctively rose, wanting to touch the teeth mark on his hand, but he lowered it halfway. He didn't know why he lowered it.

All he knew was that he didn't want others to see him doing this.

Those who had previously avoided eye contact now dared to glance furtively at the Wang family's high walls and courtyard; those who had been excitedly watching the spectacle now held a genuine sense of awe. A silent force was quietly flowing and transmitting among the onlookers.

The crowd dispersed. Tianci remained standing there, watching his elder brother's retreating figure. His brother's leg was bleeding, but his back remained straight.

In the distance, Cang Yuanzhi stood there, leaning on his cane. His empty trouser leg swayed in the wind.

He didn't leave. He just slammed the bamboo cane on the ground, once, then again.

The sound wasn't loud, but it carried far in the sweltering afternoon.

In the shadows of a distant corner, a person stood.

It is Cang Shouzheng.

He didn't know when he arrived, nor how long he had been standing there. He saw Cang Lifeng kick open the door, saw him fight five people by himself, and saw him walk out bleeding, his back still straight.

He suddenly thought of his eldest son, Cang Yongqiang. That boy would always lower his head and remain silent whenever he saw him drinking.

"Well done," he murmured. His voice was so soft that only he could hear it.

Then he turned around and slowly walked back to his dimly lit room.

He paused as he passed the wine jars, but didn't take any.