Shooting the Eagle: Starting from Iron Palm Peak

After Han Duanyue fought Lin Qi in public, the atmosphere on Iron Palm Peak quietly changed.

Those disciples who had previously treated Lin Qi coldly now appeared more reserved upon seeing him again. Someone who could withstand seventy or eighty moves from Han Duan Yue without being at a disadvantage was not someone they could afford to offend. Even Han Duan Yue's faction no longer openly provoked him as before—at least outwardly they had become much more restrained.

Lynch did not relax because of this match. He trained harder than ever before.

The internal energy brought by the snake blood continued to grow. Every day upon waking, he could feel that the internal energy in his dantian was thicker than the day before. The circulation of internal energy in the second level of the Iron Bone Technique became smoother and smoother. Initially, it took him half an hour to complete the small circulation, but now he could complete one cycle in the time it takes to drink a cup of tea. He also did not neglect the Quanzhen Sect's "Complete True Dao Song," practicing it once every night before going to bed. The agitation in his internal energy was gradually being nurtured into a peaceful and pure state.

He mastered the first five stances of the Iron Palm Technique with increasing proficiency. Before Qiu Qianren went into seclusion, he taught him the fifth stance, the "Breaking Army Stance," which he practiced repeatedly, searching for better angles of force and timing of changes each time. With the combination of the Swimming Body Step and the palm techniques, his movements became increasingly agile, and sometimes he felt as light as a leaf.

The attitude of the gang's higher-ups towards him is also changing.

Zhou Mingyuan began to seek his opinion on small matters—such as the rewards and punishments for the disciples in the gang, and the standards of criminal law. Every few days, Qian Sihai would send someone to deliver some good things, sometimes top-quality medicinal herbs, sometimes several bolts of silk. Although Mei Ruolan was not talkative, when Lin Qi went to collect the medicinal herbs, she would always give him more, and the quality of the herbs was also the best.

Lin Qi knew that these people weren't drawn to him personally, but rather to Qiu Qianren behind him and the strength he displayed in front of Han Duanyue. In a place like the Iron Palm Clan, strength was everything.

The disciples' attitudes towards him changed visibly. Before, when he walked down the street, people would point and whisper, and some would deliberately bump into his shoulder. Now, people would give way to him when they met him, bowing and calling out "Senior Brother Lin." Even Han Biao would avoid him from afar.

Han Duanyue, however, fell silent. It was unclear whether this was due to the Three Department Heads' statement or if he was brewing something bigger. Lin Qi remained vigilant, always carrying a short sword and constantly circulating his internal energy, just in case.

Days passed by like this. Lin Qi's martial arts skills improved every day, like bamboo shoots in spring, growing taller section by section.

That morning, Lin Qi was practicing his palm techniques in the open space of the side courtyard when he suddenly heard a loud noise coming from the direction of the stone building.

It wasn't thunder, it was the sound of rocks shattering.

Lin Qi withdrew his palm, a thought flashing through his mind. The stone building was where Qiu Qianren had secluded himself for cultivation; this voice… Had his master emerged from seclusion?

He walked quickly toward the stone building. Along the way, he encountered several disciples who all looked in that direction with puzzled expressions.

The door to the stone building opened.

Qiu Qianren stood at the doorway, dressed in a rumpled gray cloth robe, his hair disheveled, his face ashen. His eyes—when Lin Qi saw those eyes, his heart skipped a beat. Those eyes were bloodshot, and deep within their pupils gleamed a wild, untamed light, like that of a wild beast long trapped.

"Master?" Lin Qi called out tentatively.

Qiu Qianren didn't look at him. He stood at the door, panting heavily, his chest heaving violently. His hands were trembling, not from fear, but from desperately suppressing something.

The black-clad disciple guarding the entrance to the stone building approached with a bowl of water and said cautiously, "Chief, please have some water first—"

Before he could finish speaking, Qiu Qianren suddenly struck out with his palm.

Before the disciple could even scream, he was sent flying more than ten feet away, crashing into the wall of the stone building and sliding down softly. A section of his chest was caved in, blood gushed from his mouth, and his eyes were still open, but no longer lit.

Lynch froze.

The disciples who had rushed over were also stunned. Everyone stared blankly at the corpse on the ground, unable to believe their eyes.

Qiu Qianren killed his own disciple. The disciple who had guarded him for more than two months, the disciple who brought him food and water every day.

Qiu Qianren looked at his palm, his expression shifting from madness to bewilderment, and then from bewilderment to pain. He slowly squatted down, reaching out to close the disciple's eyes, but his hand froze in mid-air, as if he lacked the courage to touch them.

"Master..." Lin Qi stepped forward, his voice a little dry.

Qiu Qianren raised his head and looked at Lin Qi. The madness in his eyes had faded considerably, replaced by a deep weariness and despair.

"I...I couldn't suppress it." His voice was hoarse like sandpaper. "I thought I could. For the past two months, I've been practicing internal energy cultivation every day to dispel my inner demons, over and over again. I thought I was cured. But today...this morning, I suddenly felt that fire in my heart reignite, even stronger than before. I tried desperately to suppress it, but it only grew stronger, and finally...finally..."

He didn't finish his sentence. But Lin Qi understood what he meant. Finally, he opened the door, saw the disciple, and the murderous intent in his heart found an outlet.

Zhou Mingyuan, Qian Sihai, and Mei Ruolan arrived as well. Their faces paled when they saw the corpse on the ground. Zhou Mingyuan opened his mouth, as if to say something, but then swallowed his words. For the first time, the smile on Qian Sihai's face vanished. Mei Ruolan turned her head away, unable to bear the sight.

Qiu Qianren stood up, looked at the gang members who had surrounded him, and said in a low but clear voice, "I killed this disciple. I went into a qi deviation during my cultivation and lost control for a moment. Take good care of his funeral arrangements. Send five hundred taels of silver to his family and say... say that he died while on a mission."

No one dared to speak.

Qiu Qianren turned around, slowly walked back to the stone building, and closed the door.

Lin Qi stood there, staring at the tightly closed door, his heart churning with indescribable emotions. He knew that Qiu Qianren had gone into seclusion to suppress his inner demons, but he hadn't expected that more than two months of seclusion would not only fail to suppress them, but would instead make them even stronger.

That disciple is innocent. He was just carrying a bowl of water.

Lin Qi knelt down and closed the disciple's eyes. The body was still warm, but no longer breathing. He stood up and asked the surrounding disciples to help with the burial, then walked to the stone building door and gently knocked twice.

"Master, your disciple is Lin Qi."

There was a long silence inside before Qiu Qianren's voice came through: "Come in."

Lin Qi pushed open the door and entered. In the hall on the first floor of the stone building, Qiu Qianren sat in a chair, his hands on his knees, head bowed, like a child who had done something wrong. The portrait on the wall was still there—Shangguan Jiannan's gaze was still resolute, but now, looking at it, it seemed like a silent interrogation.

Lin Qi stood in front of him, unsure of what to say.

Qiu Qianren raised his head, glanced at him, and gave a wry smile.

"Do you think I'm not worthy to be your master?"

"That's not what I thought," Lin Qi said. "I just feel that Master is too tired."

Qiu Qianren paused for a moment, then smiled. His smile held both bitterness and relief.

"You certainly know how to talk." He leaned back in his chair, closed his eyes, and said, "I've been in seclusion for over two months, and your martial arts have improved rapidly. I've heard about Han Duanyue. You were able to withstand seventy or eighty moves from him; that's very good."

"Does Master know?"

"Although the stone building's door was closed, I could hear the commotion outside." Qiu Qianren opened his eyes. "That day, when you fought with Han Duanyue, I heard everything clearly from the underground secret room. I almost rushed out then—not to help you, but to kill him."

Lin Qi felt a chill run down his spine.

"I held back," Qiu Qianren said. "I wrapped the chains around my hands and bit down on the cork, and I managed to hold back. But today... I couldn't hold back."

He looked down at his hands. Those iron palms that once struck fear into the hearts of martial artists were now trembling slightly.

"Master," Lin Qi said, "inner demons cannot be resolved in a day or two. If you can endure it once, you can endure it a second time."

Qiu Qianren shook his head: "You don't understand. This kind of thing, if you endure it once, it will be even harder next time. It's like a hammer, each strike drives the nail deeper. I don't know when this nail will pierce through me completely."

Lynch fell silent. He didn't know what to say.

Qiu Qianren suddenly raised his head, looked at him, and his gaze became serious.

"Lin Qi, if one day I also lay a hand on you, don't hold back."

Lin Qi's heart skipped a beat: "Master—"

"I'm not joking," Qiu Qianren interrupted him. "My killing intent is growing stronger, and I don't know when I'll lose control again. You are my disciple, and I don't want to wake up one day to find you dead at my hands."

"No, Master won't," Lin Qi said.

Qiu Qianren looked at him but said nothing more. He waved his hand, signaling Lin Qi to leave.

Lin Qi walked out of the stone building, and the door closed behind him.

Outside, the gang members had dispersed, and the bloodstains on the ground had been cleaned up. Only Zhou Mingyuan remained standing not far away, looking in the direction of the stone building with a solemn expression.

"Lin Qi," Zhou Mingyuan called out to him.

Lin Qi walked over: "Chief Zhou."

"Is something wrong with the gang leader?" Zhou Mingyuan asked in a low voice.

Lin Qi thought for a moment and said, "Master practiced too hastily and injured his meridians. He needs to rest. During this time, I will have to trouble Chief Zhou to take care of the affairs of the gang."

Zhou Mingyuan glanced at him, knowing he wasn't telling the truth, but didn't press him further.

"Please take good care of the gang leader's affairs," Zhou Mingyuan said, then turned and left.

Lin Qi returned to the side courtyard, sat on the bed, and remained motionless for a long time.

Qiu Qianren emerged from seclusion, but the way he did so weighed heavily on his heart. His disciple was innocent, yet Qiu Qianren couldn't control himself. Lin Qi recalled Qiu Qianren's fate in the original story—he was rebuked by Hong Qigong until he was filled with shame, ultimately becoming a monk under Master Yideng. That was his final destination.

But now, Lynch doesn't know if he can hold on until that day.

The sky outside the window gradually darkened. Lin Qi didn't practice his martial arts; he simply sat there, listening to the sound of the pine trees in the distance.

Life on Iron Palm Peak has never been peaceful.