Shooting the Eagle: Starting from Iron Palm Peak

Guo Jing has learned seven of the Eighteen Subduing Dragon Palms.

Hong Qigong taught slowly, and Guo Jing learned even slower. It often took him five or six days to practice a single palm strike before he could barely make it passable. Huang Rong didn't urge him, Hong Qigong wasn't in a hurry, and Guo Jing refused to rest. He would get up before dawn every day and practice until dark, his calluses on his palms wearing away layer after layer, then he would wrap them with strips of cloth and continue practicing.

Lin Qi watched this unfold, his admiration for Guo Jing's tenacity growing ever stronger. This man had no talent, no shortcuts, only a stubborn, almost obstinate, determination. But it was precisely this stubbornness that allowed him to hone a martial art to its highest level.

That evening, Guo Jing finally managed to get the seventh palm, "Sudden Strike," somewhat right. Hong Qigong nodded, unusually refraining from scolding him, and simply said, "I'll teach you the eighth palm tomorrow."

Guo Jing smiled sheepishly, his forehead covered in sweat. The bandages wrapped around his hands were worn through, revealing red, raw skin. Huang Rong took his hand with concern, changing the bandages as she grumbled, "Seventh Master, can't you teach me a little slower? Brother Jing's hands are almost raw."

Hong Qigong rolled his eyes: "Slow? This old beggar is slow enough. If this silly boy were as smart as you, this old beggar could have taught him in half a month. But he's stupid, what can this old beggar do?"

Huang Rong snorted and stopped talking.

Mu Nianci sat not far away, holding the iron spear, practicing a move from the "Free and Easy Wandering" manual called "Reaching Out to Anyone." Her movements were even more agile than before; with each strike, her robes fluttered, like a butterfly dancing in the twilight. Hong Qigong glanced at her and casually remarked, "Not bad, you've mastered this move. I'll teach you the next one tomorrow."

Mu Nianci stopped her attack, bowed to Hong Qigong, and her eyes were full of gratitude.

Lin Qi leaned against a large tree, eyes closed, seemingly resting, but actually silently circulating his internal energy. He had mastered the Yi Jin Jing and Duan Gu techniques of the Nine Yin Manual, his internal strength increasing daily. He tried to integrate this internal energy into his Iron Palm technique, and with each strike, the power was significantly greater than before. However, he never revealed it in public, practicing only in the dead of night.

At dinner, Huang Rong made a pot of fish soup, so delicious that Hong Qigong almost swallowed his tongue. The group sat around the fire, eating and chatting. The firelight reflected on everyone's faces, making them feel warm and cozy.

After finishing the last sip of soup, Hong Qigong wiped his mouth and suddenly looked at Lin Qi.

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

Lin Qi's heart skipped a beat. He had never mentioned the Iron Palm Clan to Hong Qigong, but Hong Qigong had clearly already figured it out. He nodded: "Yes."

Hong Qigong said "Oh" without asking any further questions, picked up the wine gourd and took a swig of wine.

Huang Rong asked curiously, "Seventh Master, how did you know?"

Hong Qigong snorted, "This old beggar has traveled all over the country for decades, what kind of kung fu hasn't he seen? Those hands of his are the result of practicing Iron Palm Kung Fu. Iron Palm Kung Fu is Qiu Qianren's signature skill, how could this old beggar not recognize it?"

Huang Rong glanced at Lin Qi, her eyes filled with curiosity. She had long felt that Lin Qi's martial arts were not weak, but she had never known his background. Now, after hearing Hong Qigong's explanation, she suddenly understood many things.

Lin Qi remained silent. He knew that Hong Qigong held a grudge against the Iron Palm Clan—the Iron Palm Clan had a bad reputation for colluding with the Jurchens in the past. He didn't want to explain anything, nor could he explain it clearly anyway.

Seeing that he didn't speak, Hong Qigong didn't press him for details. He simply said, "The Iron Palm Clan doesn't have a good reputation, but you, Old Beggar, seem alright."

Lin Qi clasped his hands in thanks and said, "Thank you, Master Qi."

Hong Qigong waved his hand, yawned, leaned against the big tree, and closed his eyes. A moment later, snoring began.

Huang Rong leaned closer to Lin Qi and asked in a low voice, "Brother Lin, are you really a member of the Iron Palm Clan?"

Lynch nodded.

"So your master is Qiu Qianren?"

Lynch nodded again.

Huang Rong's eyes darted around, and she asked again, "Where's your master? Why isn't he with you?"

Lin Qi thought for a moment and said, "My master has become a monk and no longer cares about matters of the martial world."

Huang Rong said "Oh" and didn't ask any more questions. Although she was curious, she knew that some things shouldn't be asked in too much detail.

Mu Nianci sat quietly to the side, listening without saying a word. She knew Lin Qi's secret, but she wouldn't tell anyone.

Night deepened, and the campfire gradually died down. Huang Rong pulled Guo Jing to rest, and Mu Nianci also returned to her tent. Lin Qi sat alone under a tree, gazing at the moon in the sky.

The moonlight was bright, shining on the hillside like a layer of silver frost. From the distant woods came the intermittent chirping of insects, as if they were telling a story.

Lin Qi stood up, walked to the top of the hillside, assumed a stance, and began to circulate his internal energy. He had already mastered the Yi Jin Jing and Duan Gu chapter of the Nine Yin Manual, and his internal energy flowed slowly through his meridians like a warm stream. He closed his eyes and guided his internal energy through three cycles, feeling his whole body warm and his muscles and bones relaxed.

"Brother Lin."

Mu Nianci's voice came from behind him. Lin Qi stopped his practice and turned around. He saw Mu Nianci standing not far away, wearing an outer robe. The moonlight shone on her face, and her eyes were very bright.

"Why aren't you asleep yet?" Lin Qi asked.

"I can't sleep." Mu Nianci walked over and sat down next to him. "I came out for a walk and saw you here."

Lin Qi remained silent. Mu Nianci looked at him, paused for a moment, and then suddenly said, "Brother Lin, aren't you angry about what Chief Hong said today?"

Lin Qi shook his head: "He's right. The Iron Palm Clan did do a lot of wrong things in the past. My master became a monk because he regretted it."

Mu Nianci lowered her head and said softly, "But you're different."

Lin Qi glanced at her: "How do you know I'm different?"

Mu Nianci raised her head, the moonlight illuminating her face. Her eyes were earnest: "Because you saved my godfather, saved me, and saved Brother Guo and Miss Huang. You're not a bad person."

Lin Qi smiled but didn't say anything.

The two sat for a long time without speaking. A few insects chirped in the distance, and the night breeze carried the scent of earth and grass.

Mu Nianci suddenly asked, "Brother Lin, what are your plans for the future?"

Lin Qi thought for a moment and said, "First, we need to master martial arts, and then we need to reorganize the Iron Palm Clan. We can't let what happened before happen again."

Mu Nianci nodded: "You can definitely do it."

Lin Qi looked at her; in the moonlight, her face was gentle yet resolute. A warmth welled up in his heart, and he whispered, "Thank you."

Mu Nianci smiled, a smile that looked beautiful in the moonlight.

"It's getting late, go back to sleep." Lin Qi stood up.

Mu Nianci nodded, stood up, and turned to walk back. After a few steps, she suddenly stopped, turned back, and said softly, "Goodnight, Brother Lin."

"Good night."

Mu Nianci went into the tent. Lin Qi stood on the hillside, looking at the moon in the sky. He stood there for a while before returning to his tent to rest.

Under the moonlight, the hillside returned to silence.