Shooting the Eagle: Starting from Iron Palm Peak

When the Ginseng Immortal Old Monster discovered that the Medicine Snake was dead, Lin Qi was already three hundred miles south of Dading Prefecture.

That morning, Liang Ziweng went to the stone chamber in the back garden to feed the snake as usual. The lock on the iron gate was still on, the cage door was closed, and the iron bolt was fastened; everything seemed normal. But when he opened the iron cage, the large, bright red snake was already stiff, its body shriveled, and two small fang marks were clearly visible on its neck.

The blood was drained.

Holding the dead snake, Liang Ziweng howled to the sky, his voice sharp and mournful like a wolf's howl, startling the entire Zhao Prince's mansion. Wanyan Honglie arrived with Sha Tongtian, Peng Lianhu, and others, only to find Liang Ziweng kneeling on the ground, his eyes bloodshot and his whole body trembling.

"Twenty years!" Liang Ziweng gritted his teeth. "Twenty years of hard work! No matter who it is, I will find him, no matter where he is, and tear him to pieces!"

He immediately asked Wanyan Honglie for leave and left the Zhao Prince's residence with the dead snake in his arms. No one knew where he would go, but everyone knew that if Liang Ziweng found the snake thief, he would surely die.

Lynch was completely unaware of this. He was walking south along the official road at a leisurely pace.

On the third day after leaving Dading Prefecture, the heat of the snake blood completely merged into his meridians and dantian. It felt as if a door inside his body had been pushed open—the speed of his internal energy flowing through his meridians nearly doubled, and the capacity of his dantian more than doubled. The first bottleneck of the Iron Bone Technique broke through under the impact of the snake blood, and he officially stepped into the second level: the Meridian Opening Realm.

Internal energy flows throughout the body's meridians, no longer confined to the dantian and major meridians. When circulating the energy, it can reach the fingertips, soles of the feet, and top of the head, and can even extend about an inch beyond the skin. Although it cannot yet injure people from a distance like Qiu Qianren, the penetrating power and explosive force of the palm strike are already incomparable.

Lin Qi found a clearing in the mountains and stopped to test his palm technique.

He chose a pine tree as thick as a bowl, stood still, lowered his waist, and pulled his right palm back to his waist before thrusting it out forcefully—the fourth stance of Iron Palm Kung Fu, the Flow-Severing Stance. The palm force condensed into a single line, and with a crisp "crack," the pine tree snapped at the point of impact, its upper half crashing down with a resounding crash, the break as clean as if it had been chopped with an axe.

He then tested the "Mountain Pushing Stance," striking the bluestone with his palm. The stone didn't crack, but a shallow palm print was left on its surface—not a dent from the impact, but rather the result of the palm force penetrating and pressing down a layer on the stone. Qiu Qianren had said that when Iron Palm Kung Fu is practiced to a certain level, the palm force can penetrate stone, invisible from the outside, but shattered inside. Lin Qi was far from that level, but the fact that he could leave a palm print showed that his palm force had already penetrated from the "surface" to the "inside."

He tried out the Swimming Step. After his internal energy flowed through his entire body, his footwork became much lighter than before. His body moved like a leaf blown by the wind, swaying left and right almost silently.

Lin Qi stopped, stood on the open ground, panting heavily, and secretly assessed his current strength.

He no longer needed to compete with the third-generation disciples of the Iron Palm Clan, and even the elite disciples were probably no match for him. He estimated he still couldn't defeat Han Duanyue, who had reached the pinnacle of Iron Sand Palm, but the gap wasn't as large as before.

The key question is, how does he compare to Guo Jing after drinking snake blood in the original story? Guo Jing's internal energy greatly increased after drinking the snake blood, and he later learned the first fifteen moves of the Eighteen Subduing Dragon Palms. In the battle at Prince Zhao's mansion, he was able to hold his own against masters like Ouyang Ke and Liang Ziweng. Lin Qi believes his current strength is no less than Guo Jing's after the fifteenth move. In terms of internal energy, since they drank the same snake blood, they are roughly equal; while his Iron Palm skill, though slightly less powerful than the Eighteen Subduing Dragon Palms, is more refined, and with his mastery of the Four Forms Iron Palm and the Wandering Body Step, he might not be at a disadvantage in actual combat.

However, this is just his estimate. True strength needs to be tested in actual combat.

Lin Qi originally planned to return directly to Iron Palm Peak, but then he thought that Qiu Qianren wouldn't emerge from seclusion for another month. Going back so early would only mean spending all his time practicing in the side courtyard and dealing with the difficulties caused by Han Duanyue and his ilk. Rather than that, he decided to take advantage of this time to travel around the martial world, broaden his horizons, and try his luck.

The snake blood granted him immense power, but power is not the same as experience. True masters are forged on the edge of a knife.

He turned his horse around and headed southeast instead of south.

His first stop was Xiangyang.

Xiangyang is a strategic point connecting north and south, with the Han River flowing through it; it has been a battleground since ancient times. When Lin Qi rode into the city, he saw that the city walls were being fortified and that many more soldiers had been added to the walls. He asked an old soldier guarding the city, who said that things were not peaceful in the Jin Kingdom recently, and the imperial court had ordered all cities along the river to strengthen their defenses.

Lin Qi stayed overnight in Xiangyang and visited the city wall that Guo Jing and Huang Rong had guarded for decades. The city of Xiangyang at that time was far less fortified than it would later become, and the garrison was not large, but its strategic importance was already evident. He silently memorized the layout of the city's defenses.

After leaving Xiangyang, Lin Qi had no fixed direction and just went wherever the road took him.

He passed through Fancheng and Dengzhou, then traveled south along the Han River to Jingling. This area was the Jianghan Plain, crisscrossed by waterways, and inhabited by simple and honest people. Lin Qi sometimes rode a horse, sometimes traveled by boat, stopping frequently along the way. He would linger a couple of days in interesting places and intervene in cases of injustice.

Outside Dengzhou city, he encountered a band of robbers who ambushed and robbed a caravan of merchants traveling south on the official road. The caravan's guards were scattered, and several merchants squatted on the ground with their heads in their hands while the robbers ransacked their cargo.

Lin Qi did not hesitate. He dismounted and walked a few steps to the group of bandits.

"Who goes there?" The leader of the strongmen wielded a large, menacing-looking sword with a ghost-head design.

Lin Qi didn't answer, but slammed his palm onto the blade. With a clang, the ghost-headed broadsword flew out of his hand, and the strongman's hand split open, screaming as he staggered backward. Seeing this, the other strongmen raised their swords and charged forward. Lin Qi used his agile footwork, weaving through the flashing blades, one palm strike at a time. In less than five breaths, all six strongmen lay on the ground, some clutching their chests, others clutching their arms, groaning in pain.

The caravan leader was a stout man in his fifties surnamed Zhou, who was in the tea business. He thanked Lin Qi profusely and insisted on treating him to drinks. Lin Qi couldn't refuse, so he followed them to the next stop, where he drank several bowls of wine and had a meal. Boss Zhou offered one hundred taels of silver as a token of his gratitude, but Lin Qi refused it, only accepting a pot of good wine and a bag of dry rations.

Boss Zhou exclaimed, "Young man, you are so young yet possess such superb martial arts skills and excellent character. May I ask which school you studied under?"

Lin Qi smiled: "Iron Palm Clan."

Boss Zhou's expression changed slightly, and he hesitated before finally cupping his hands in a respectful gesture: "Until we meet again."

Lin Qi knew what he was thinking. The Iron Palm Clan didn't have a good reputation in the martial arts world—colluding with the Jurchens and bullying men and women were facts. But he didn't want to explain anything. The Iron Palm Clan was the Iron Palm Clan, and he was him.

In Jingling, Lin Qi encountered a strange incident.

That evening, he checked into a small inn. As soon as he entered, he saw a young girl sitting in the corner of the lobby, crying. The girl looked about sixteen or seventeen years old, dressed in a plain white dress. She had delicate features, but her face was pale, as if she had suffered a great shock. The innkeeper stood beside her, looking troubled.

Lin Qi went over and asked what happened. The shopkeeper sighed and said that the girl was from a nearby village. A few days ago, her family was robbed and her parents were killed. She ran away alone and had no one to rely on.

Lin Qi asked, "Has the thief been caught?"

The shop owner shook his head: "I reported it to the authorities, and they said they would investigate, but after several days they haven't found a trace of it."

The girl looked up at Lin Qi with teary eyes, then lowered her head again. Lin Qi noticed that her eyes weren't entirely filled with sadness; there was also an inexplicable wariness.

He was more cautious.

That night, Lin Qi was meditating in his guest room when he suddenly heard a slight noise from next door. He quietly got up, climbed out of the window, pressed himself against the outside of the next window, dipped his finger in saliva, and poked a small hole in the window paper to look inside.

The girl was sitting on the edge of the bed, with a person standing in front of her. The person was dressed in black, masked, and spoke in a low voice: "Did you get the things?"

The girl pulled a palm-sized iron plaque from her bosom and handed it to the man: "Got it. That old man hid it under his pillow, and I took it when things got chaotic."

The man took the metal plaque and nodded: "Well done. You'll get your share of the benefits later."

The girl asked, "What about the old man's daughter?"

"Kill them all," the man said calmly. "Leave no one alive."

Lin Qi's heart skipped a beat. This girl wasn't the victim's daughter at all, but an undercover agent, an accomplice in the murder and robbery. The "old man" she was referring to must be the family that had been wiped out.

The man turned to leave, but Lin Qi didn't hesitate. He smashed the window with one palm and jumped inside.

The man reacted with lightning speed, drawing his knife to slash. Lin Qi dodged to the side, his right hand shooting out to strike the man's chest. The spiraling force of his Iron Palm technique erupted, and the man groaned, crashing through the door and staggering back into the corridor.

Lin Qi followed, but the man had already climbed over the fence and jumped into the yard. Lin Qi jumped down as well, and was about to give chase when suddenly there was a whooshing sound behind him—the girl had somehow gotten behind him, holding a short dagger, and was stabbing at his back.

Lin Qi, using the wind to pinpoint her location, slapped his left palm backward, striking the girl's wrist precisely. The dagger slipped from her hand, and the girl screamed, clutching her wrist and crouching down. Lin Qi ignored her, continuing his pursuit of the man in black.

But in that brief delay, the man had already scaled the wall and left the inn. Lin Qi chased after him to the wall, but outside was a dark alley, and the footsteps had already faded into the distance.

He returned to the inn, where the girl was still squatting on the ground, her face pale with pain. Lin Qi picked her up and asked her who the man in black was and what the iron token was. The girl bit her lip and remained silent, her eyes filled with fear.

Lin Qi didn't pressure her. He handed her over to the innkeeper and told him to take her to the authorities the next day. Whether the authorities could find anything out was beyond his control.

This incident deeply affected Lin Qi. The world wasn't as black and white as he had imagined; those who seemed pitiful weren't necessarily innocent, and those who seemed fierce weren't necessarily bad people. You can't judge a person or a situation by appearances alone.

After leaving Jingling, Lin Qi continued eastward and arrived in Hanyang.

Hanyang is located on the north bank of the Yangtze River, facing Wuchang across the river. Lin Qi stayed in Hanyang for two days, practicing his martial arts by the river every day. The Yangtze River is wide, and the river wind is strong; practicing his palm techniques in such a place, he felt his palm power expand as well.

He met an unexpected person in Hanyang.

That evening, Lin Qi was having dinner at a small tavern by the river when a middle-aged Taoist priest sat at the next table. The priest was in his forties, with a thin face, a long beard, and wore a gray Taoist robe with an iron sword hanging at his waist. He sat alone, ordered a pot of wine and a plate of peanuts, and poured himself a drink.

Lin Qi glanced at him a couple more times. Not because of his attire, but because of his demeanor—that calm and composed demeanor, unfazed even in the face of a collapsing mountain, he had only ever seen in one person: Qiu Qianren.

This person is no ordinary person.

As Lin Qi was pondering this, the Taoist suddenly turned his head and glanced at him.

"Young man, are you from the Iron Palm Clan?"

Lin Qi's heart skipped a beat. This Taoist priest had sharp eyes; he wasn't carrying his identification badge today, and he was dressed in ordinary cloth clothes. How did the other party know?

The Taoist priest seemed to see his doubt and smiled slightly: "Your palm. The marks of the Iron Palm Technique cannot be hidden from me."

Lin Qi subconsciously pulled his hand back.

"Don't be nervous." The Taoist priest picked up his wine cup. "My surname is Wang, my given name is Chuyi, and I am from the Quanzhen School."

Wang Chuyi! One of the Seven Masters of Quanzhen, Wang Chuyi, nicknamed "Iron-Legged Immortal," was second only to Qiu Chuji and Ma Yu in martial arts among the Seven Masters. He was an important character in the original novel, who once single-handedly stormed the Zhao Prince's mansion, fought against Sha Tongtian, Peng Lianhu, and others, and was eventually poisoned and injured, but was rescued by Guo Jing.

Lin Qi quickly stood up, clasped his hands in greeting, and said, "Junior Lin Qi, disciple of the Iron Palm Clan, greets Daoist Wang."

Wang Chuyi waved his hand: "Sit down, sit down. There's no need for such formalities when you're traveling."

Lin Qi sat down again, feeling both surprised and delighted. He hadn't expected to meet Wang Chuyi in Hanyang. The Quanzhen Sect was the most orthodox sect of Taoism in the world, and Wang Chuyi had an excellent reputation in the martial arts world; he was someone worth befriending.

Wang Chuyi sized him up for a while and asked, "You've come out to gain experience alone?"

"Yes. This junior is going out for a walk and to broaden my horizons."

"It's rare to see a disciple of the Iron Palm Clan traveling the martial world alone," Wang Chuyi said with a half-smile. "Who is your master?"

"My master is Qiu Qianren."

Wang Chuyi's eyebrows twitched slightly. He clearly knew Qiu Qianren's reputation and what the Iron Palm Clan had been doing in recent years. But he didn't say anything more, only nodded.

"I admire Elder Qiu's martial arts skills," Wang Chuyi said. "However, these past few years... never mind, let's not talk about that. Now that you're out, what are your plans?"

Lin Qi thought for a moment and said, "This junior would like to travel around and see what this world is like."

Wang Chuyi glanced at him, then suddenly asked, "Would you be interested in walking with me for a while?"

Lin Qi was taken aback: "Where is Master Wang going?"

"The North," Wang Chuyi said, "Things have been rather unsettled in the Jin Kingdom lately. Several disciples of the Quanzhen Sect have run into trouble there, and I'm going to take a look. Since you're traveling alone, why don't you come with me? It'll be good to have someone to look after you on the road."

Lin Qi's heart skipped a beat. Traveling with Wang Chuyi would allow him to learn something and meet important characters from the original work—an opportunity he couldn't ask for.

"I would be more than happy to accept this," he said, clasping his hands in a fist salute.

Wang Chu smiled, picked up his wine glass, and drank it all in one gulp.

"Then meet me by the river early tomorrow morning."

The next morning, Lin Qi waited for Wang Chuyi by the river. The two took a boat across the river and headed north.

A misty haze hung over the river, obscuring the city of Wuchang on the opposite bank. Lin Qi stood at the bow of the boat, watching the river surge eastward, and a strange feeling suddenly arose in his heart—he was not alone on this path. With Qiu Qianren's guidance, the power of the snake blood, and now Wang Chuyi's companion, he was gradually venturing deeper into this martial world.

He didn't know what awaited him, but at least he was no longer alone.