Shooting the Eagle: Starting from Iron Palm Peak

Southwest of Iron Palm Peak, past Changde, into Taoyuan, the mountains gradually deepen.

The master and his apprentice traveled for two days, and on the third day they entered Taoyuan County. The official road turned into a mountain path, which gradually disappeared into a dense forest. The trees on both sides grew denser and denser, blocking out the sun, which could only seep through the gaps in the leaves, scattering shards of gold on the ground.

Lin Qi reined in his horse and looked around. According to the original text, Master Yideng's secluded place should be in these mountains, the exact location of which only the local mountain people knew. He had planned to inquire when he reached the foot of the mountain, but unexpectedly, the mountain path became narrower and narrower, and his horse could no longer move.

"Master, the horses can't get any further ahead." Lin Qi dismounted. "Let's leave the horses at the foot of the mountain and hike up."

Qiu Qianren also dismounted, glanced at the towering peaks, and nodded without saying a word.

The two tied their horses to a tree by the roadside, and Lin Qi carved an Iron Palm Clan mark on the trunk for easy reference when they looked back. Then, he shouldered his bundle and followed Qiu Qianren into the mountains.

The mountain path was rugged and strewn with loose stones, with thorns constantly catching their clothes. Qiu Qianren walked ahead with steady steps, while Lin Qi followed behind, keeping a close eye on the surrounding terrain. He remembered that in the original story, Master Yideng's hermitage had a waterfall, a stream, and a bamboo forest. If they could find these landmarks, they could find Master Yideng's residence.

After walking for about an hour, Lin Qi heard the sound of water.

It wasn't the gentle murmur of a stream, but the thunderous roar of a waterfall. A surge of joy filled him, and he quickened his pace to catch up. Rounding a bend in the mountain path, a breathtaking view unfolded before him—a waterfall cascaded down the cliff face, plunging into a deep pool below and creating a spray of mist. Beside the waterfall, a stone staircase wound its way up the mountainside, leading into the depths of a bamboo forest.

It is here.

Just as Lin Qi was about to walk forward, Qiu Qianren suddenly reached out and stopped him.

"Someone's there." Qiu Qianren's voice was very low.

Lin Qi stopped and listened intently. The sound of the waterfall was too loud for him to hear anything. But Qiu Qianren's internal strength and hearing were far superior to his; if someone was said to be there, then someone must be there.

Sure enough, a moment later, a person emerged from behind the waterfall.

The man was in his forties, tall and strong, dressed in a coarse cloth short coat with a straw rope tied around his waist and straw sandals on his feet. He carried an iron oar in his hand. His skin was tanned dark, and the muscles on his arms were bulging, clearly indicating that he was someone who made a living on the water year-round.

Lin Qi recognized him at a glance—the fisherman, one of Master Yideng's four disciples.

"Gentlemen, this road is blocked." The man stood in front of the stone steps, slammed his iron paddle on the ground, and spoke in a loud but powerful voice.

Qiu Qianren remained silent, merely staring at the man. Lin Qi stepped forward, clasped his hands in greeting, and said, "Brother, my master and I have traveled a long way to request an audience with Master Yideng."

The man's gaze swept over Lin Qi, then landed on Qiu Qianren, his brow furrowing slightly. He seemed to sense something from Qiu Qianren, his expression shifting from indifference to wariness.

"My master doesn't receive guests," the man said. "Please leave."

Lin Qi did not back down: "Brother, we are not here to cause trouble. My master has encountered difficulties in his cultivation, and only Master Yideng can help him. Please inform him, brother."

The man glanced at Qiu Qianren and shook his head: "My master said that no matter who comes, I will not see them."

Qiu Qianren suddenly spoke.

"Go and tell Master Yideng," his voice was soft but clear, "that Qiu Qianren of the Iron Palm Clan requests an audience. If he still refuses to see me, I'll turn around and leave."

The man's expression changed drastically upon hearing the name "Qiu Qianren." He clearly knew the name and what it represented. He gripped the iron oar tightly, took a half-step back, but did not move aside.

"You...you are Chief Qiu?"

"Yes."

The man was silent for a moment, seemingly hesitant. After a while, he nodded: "You wait here, I'll go and inform them."

He turned and walked up the stone steps, quickly disappearing into the bamboo forest.

Lin Qi stood by the waterfall, watching the man's departing figure, his heart filled with unease. He didn't know if Master Yideng would see them. The incident of Qiu Qianren injuring the infant was one of the direct reasons Master Yideng became a monk, but Master Yideng didn't know who the culprit was. Now that Qiu Qianren had taken the initiative to come to him, what would Master Yideng think?

Qiu Qianren, on the other hand, remained calm. He stood by the waterfall, hands behind his back, watching the cascading water curtain, his face expressionless.

After waiting for about the time it takes to drink a cup of tea, the man returned.

"Master invites you to go up," he said, stepping aside to make way.

Lin Qi was overjoyed and followed the man up the stone steps. The steps were narrow, allowing only one person to pass at a time, with dense bamboo groves on both sides. The bamboo leaves rustled in the wind, and sunlight filtered through the gaps in the leaves, casting dappled shadows on the ground.

After walking for about fifteen minutes, the stone steps came to an end. Before them lay a flat area with several thatched huts. In front of the huts was a vegetable garden, planted with greens and radishes. An old monk sat on the stone steps in front of the huts, dressed in a gray robe. His face was thin, and his eyebrows were white, drooping at the corners of his eyes. His eyes were half-closed, and he held a string of prayer beads in his hand. He looked like a Buddha statue—serene, peaceful, and unmoving.

Lin Qi knew that this was Master Yideng, the former emperor of the Dali Kingdom, Duan Zhixing.

Qiu Qianren stood behind Lin Qi, looking at the old monk without saying a word. Lin Qi noticed that his hands were trembling slightly—not because of his inner demons, but because of nervousness.

Master Yideng opened his eyes, his gaze falling on Qiu Qianren, then shifting to Lin Qi's face, and finally returning to Qiu Qianren. His eyes were calm, with a hint of scrutiny.

"Are you Chief Qiu of the Iron Palm Clan?" Master Yideng's voice was soft but clear.

"That's right." Qiu Qianren clasped his hands in a fist salute.

"How did you know that I was living in seclusion here?"

Qiu Qianren was silent for a moment, then glanced at Lin Qi. Lin Qi stepped forward, clasped his hands in greeting, and said, "Master Yideng, when I was traveling the martial world, I once heard a master say that the former Emperor Duan of Dali had seen through the vanities of the world, become a monk, and lived in seclusion in Taoyuan Mountain in western Hunan. I kept this in mind, and since my master has encountered difficulties in his cultivation, I have taken the liberty of bringing him here."

Master Yideng glanced at him, his gaze scrutinizing. Lin Qi did not evade the question, his expression calm. Master Yideng did not press further, his gaze returning to Qiu Qianren.

"What brings you here?"

Qiu Qianren took a deep breath and suddenly knelt down.

Lin Qi was stunned. He never expected Qiu Qianren to kneel down—the leader of the Iron Palm Clan, a peerless master on par with the Five Greats, was actually kneeling before an old monk.

"Master Yideng," Qiu Qianren's voice was somewhat hoarse, "I have come here today to ask you for a favor."

Master Yideng did not speak, but simply looked at him.

"I want to beg you..." Qiu Qianren's voice was very low, as if he was trying hard to suppress something, "help me resolve my inner demons. I'm losing control of myself. A few days ago, when I came out of seclusion, I killed the disciple who was bringing me water."

Master Yideng's brow twitched slightly, but he remained silent. His gaze fell on Qiu Qianren, a hint of doubt lurking beneath his calm expression.

"I know I am terribly guilty." Qiu Qianren raised his head and looked at Master Yideng, his eyes bloodshot, filled with pain and struggle. "I was the one who injured that baby back then."

These words landed on the open ground in front of the thatched hut, like a stone thrown into a deep pool.

Master Yideng's fingers paused slightly, and the prayer beads stopped spinning. He looked at Qiu Qianren, a crack appearing in the calm of his gaze—a crack revealing shock, pain, relief, and an indescribable mix of emotions. The question that had lingered for years finally found its answer in this moment.

"Is it you?" Master Yideng's voice was very soft.

"It was me." Qiu Qianren did not evade the question. "Back then, in order to have one less opponent in the Mount Hua Sword Tournament, I injured that child. I knew your One-Finger Divine Skill could save him, but if you intervened to save him, your internal energy would be greatly depleted. What I didn't expect was that the child wasn't your flesh and blood. You didn't save him. The child died."

He lowered his head, his forehead almost touching the ground.

"Over the years, I've killed more and more people, and the urge to kill in my heart has grown stronger. I've thought about letting go, but I can't. I went into seclusion for more than two months, and when I came out, I killed my own disciple." His voice trembled. "I know I deserve to die, but I don't want to kill anymore. I don't know who else I can turn to besides you."

Master Yideng remained silent for a long time. Sunlight filtered through the bamboo leaves, casting dappled shadows on his monk's robe.

"I became a monk because of that incident," Master Yideng finally spoke, his voice much calmer. "I thought that by relinquishing the throne and martial arts, I could let go of grudges. But the thorn in my heart remained. I kept thinking about who the person who injured the child was. I hated them, and I thought about revenge. Later, I read a sentence in a Buddhist scripture—'An eye for an eye only makes the eye worse; a heart for a heart will be extinguished.'"

He looked at Qiu Qianren kneeling on the ground, and the complexity in his eyes gradually turned into pity.

"The fact that you took the initiative to come to me and acknowledge this matter shows that you still have good intentions in your heart," Master Yideng said. "I am very gratified that you can turn back."

Qiu Qianren raised his head and looked at Master Yideng, his eyes red-rimmed.

"Master, you...you don't hate me?"

"I have hated you," Master Yideng said. "But what good has hating you for so many years done, besides causing myself pain? You've come here today not to beg for my forgiveness, but to seek a path to stop killing. If I still hate you, how am I any different from the person I was back then?"

He reached out and gently placed his hand on Qiu Qianren's head.

"I'm glad you could come."

Qiu Qianren trembled, and tears finally streamed down his face. The leader of the Iron Palm Clan, the infamous Iron Palm Water-Walker, feared throughout the martial world, knelt before an old monk, sobbing uncontrollably.

Lin Qi stood aside, watching this scene, his heart filled with mixed emotions. He had never seen Qiu Qianren shed tears before, nor had he ever imagined that this ruthless leader of the Iron Palm Gang would have such a side to him.

Master Yideng waited until he had finished crying before slowly speaking: "You shall stay here for now. Every day, you shall chant sutras with me, meditate, grow vegetables, and chop wood. When the fire in your heart is extinguished, you may leave."

"What if we can't destroy it?"

"If we can't wipe them out, we'll just keep living here."

Qiu Qianren wiped away his tears and kowtowed deeply: "Thank you, Master."

Master Yideng nodded and said, "Since you are willing to lay down your butcher's knife and convert to Buddhism, I will accept you as my disciple. From this day forward, your Dharma name will be 'Cien'."

Qiu Qianren—Ci'en—kowtowed again.

Master Yideng turned his gaze to Lin Qi.

"Are you his disciple?"

Lin Qi clasped his hands in a fist and said, "I am Lin Qi, a disciple of Master Qiu."

"You brought your master to see me, very good." Master Yideng nodded. "Your master is staying here with me, what do you plan to do with him?"

Lin Qi thought for a moment and said, "This junior would like to stay by Master's side for a few more days until Master is settled before returning to the Iron Palm Clan."

Master Yideng did not object and allowed the fisherman to build a thatched hut next to the thatched house for Lin Qi to live in.

Lin Qi gazed at the thatched hut, then at Ci'en, who was kneeling on the ground and had not yet risen, and felt much more at ease. Perhaps this hut deep in the bamboo forest could truly make his master lay down his butcher's knife.