Shooting the Eagle: Starting from Iron Palm Peak

Hong Qigong has been teaching Guo Jing the Eighteen Subduing Dragon Palms for more than half a month.

Every day at dawn, before the sky was fully light, Guo Jing would stand on the hillside waiting. Hong Qigong would always arrive a moment later, carrying his wine gourd, yawning, and muttering, "Silly boy, why are you up so early?" before beginning to teach him his palm techniques. Guo Jing learned slowly, but he practiced each palm strike thoroughly, never slacking off. He broke several pine trees on the hillside, and the calluses on his palms would wear off and grow back, only to wear off again.

That day, Hong Qigong went out early in the morning, saying he was going to the mountains to gather some medicinal herbs and find some wild game. Huang Rong asked him when he would be back, and he waved his hand and said it would be in the evening, telling Guo Jing to practice his skills on his own and not to slack off. Guo Jing agreed and got up as usual at dawn, practicing the eleventh palm strike, "Sudden Strike," over and over again on the hillside.

Huang Rong squatted to the side, holding a handful of melon seeds, cracking them as she watched. Mu Nianci sat under a tree not far away, holding the iron spear, practicing the Free and Easy Movement Technique taught by Hong Qigong. Her movements were even more agile than before; when she used the move "Begging for Alms at Every Door," her clothes fluttered, like a butterfly dancing in the morning light.

Lin Qi leaned against a large tree, seemingly resting with his eyes closed, but in reality, he was silently circulating his internal energy. These past few days, he had been practicing the Yi Jin Jing and Duan Gu chapter of the Nine Yin Manual, and his internal strength was gradually deepening, making his hearing and eyesight much more sensitive than before. The rustling of the wind, the chirping of birds and the sounds of insects could not escape his perception. He could even distinguish the sound of squirrels leaping among the branches in the distant woods.

Guo Jing practiced for half an hour, then stopped to wipe his sweat. Huang Rong handed him a water pouch, saying with concern, "Brother Jing, take a break. Master Qi isn't here; he can't see how hard you practice." Guo Jing smiled憨厚ly, "Master Qi can't see, but I can see myself. I'm not practicing for anyone else's benefit."

Lin Qi listened and nodded inwardly. Guo Jing had no talent, no shortcuts, only a stubborn streak. But it was precisely this stubborn streak that allowed him to master a martial art to its highest level.

As the sun rose higher, sunlight filtered through the leaves, casting dappled shadows on the ground. Lin Qi was practicing his internal energy with his eyes closed when he suddenly heard footsteps approaching from afar. It wasn't just one or two people, but several. The footsteps were heavy, carrying the rhythm of internal energy being channeled; they were not ordinary passersby.

He opened his eyes, his palms slightly open, his inner strength already subtly circulating into his palms.

Three people emerged from the bamboo grove at the foot of the hill. The one in the lead had white hair and beard, a ruddy complexion, and wore a gray robe; he was none other than the Ginseng Immortal Old Monster, Liang Ziweng. Behind him were two disciples, both in their thirties, with swords at their waists and fierce eyes. Liang Ziweng's complexion was even better than when he was in Zhongdu, his face glowing, clearly indicating that he had been taking good care of himself these past few days.

Guo Jing's expression changed upon seeing Liang Ziweng. He remembered this man—Liang Ziweng had joined Peng Lianhu and others in attacking Wang Chuyi at the Zhao Prince's residence; he was a skilled fighter under Wanyan Honglie. In that battle, Liang Ziweng's ruthless attacks and chilling palm strikes had left a deep impression on Guo Jing.

Huang Rong recognized him too. She stood up and whispered to Guo Jing, "Brother Jing, be careful. This old monster's martial arts are not weak, and his palm techniques are especially insidious."

Liang Ziweng also saw Guo Jing, paused, and a fierce glint flashed in his eyes. His gaze then swept over Huang Rong, Lin Qi, and Mu Nianci, lingering for a moment on Lin Qi, a slight smirk playing on his lips. He didn't take a young man in his early twenties seriously.

"Guo Jing, we meet again." Liang Ziweng's voice was unhurried, yet tinged with a chill. "Last time at the Prince Zhao's residence, you escaped. This time, you won't be so lucky."

Guo Jing clasped his hands in a fist and said, "Elder Liang, I have no grudge against you, why are you pressing me so hard?"

Liang Ziweng sneered, "No enmity? Your master, one of the Seven Heroes of Jiangnan, ruined our prince's grand plan in Mongolia. This debt will naturally be settled with you." He said no more, waved his hand, and two disciples drew their swords and approached Guo Jing from the left and right.

Lin Qi didn't move. He was observing. He knew Liang Ziweng's martial arts skills well; he had seen him fight from afar in Zhongdu. His palm strikes were cold and sinister, and his style differed from Peng Lianhu and Lingzhi Shangren, but he was still a first-rate master. Although Guo Jing had learned the Eighteen Subduing Dragon Palms these past few days, his skill was still immature, and he might not be a match for Liang Ziweng. He needed to clearly observe Liang Ziweng's fighting style before deciding how to respond.

Guo Jing took a step back, bent his right arm inward, and drew a circle with his right palm, then pushed it outward with a whoosh. This move was the "Regretful Dragon Soaring" that Hong Qigong had taught him. The two disciples were caught off guard and were struck by the palm wind, staggering back several steps, their faces pale. One of them almost dropped his knife, which was deflected by the palm wind.

Liang Ziweng's expression changed, a hint of surprise flashing in his eyes. He stared at Guo Jing, inwardly astonished: Just a few months ago, this kid was nothing more than a greenhorn, his martial arts mediocre, unable to even defeat Hou Tonghai in the Zhao Prince's mansion. Now, this palm strike is so fierce and powerful; his progress is too rapid. Could it be... that he drank my snake blood?

The thought of the medicinal snake he had raised for twenty years, fed daily with precious herbs, filled Liang Ziweng with both anger and hatred. That snake was the culmination of his life's work; he had been waiting to drink its blood to greatly enhance his martial arts skills and prolong his life. Now, seeing Guo Jing's martial arts improve so much, he increasingly felt that Guo Jing had stolen his blood. Little did he know, the real "snake thief" was leaning against a tree, watching coldly.

Liang Ziweng snorted coldly, strode forward, and struck out with his palm.

Although Guo Jing used the Eighteen Subduing Dragon Palms, Liang Ziweng didn't recognize the technique. He only sensed that the young man's internal energy had surged, and his palm strikes were strangely powerful. However, Liang Ziweng was a renowned master with years of experience, his martial arts far surpassing Guo Jing's. His palm strikes were cold and sinister, completely different from Guo Jing's powerful palm strikes. Guo Jing took the blow head-on, and was forced back three steps. His arm went numb, and his entire right arm felt frozen, with poor blood circulation.

Lin Qi observed this, his brow furrowing slightly. He knew where the problem lay. While Guo Jing's Eighteen Subduing Dragon Palms were exquisitely executed, they required profound internal energy. In the original story, Guo Jing drank snake blood, greatly increasing his internal energy, allowing him to unleash the true power of the Eighteen Subduing Dragon Palms. However, in this world, Lin Qi had drunk the snake blood, and Guo Jing's internal energy, gained from six months of Quanzhen Internal Energy cultivation taught by Ma Yu and his recent arduous training, was far from sufficient. In his hands, the Eighteen Subduing Dragon Palms could only exert 30-40% of their power. Facing a first-rate master like Liang Ziweng, this was naturally a struggle.

Seeing the situation was dire, Huang Rong drew her soft sword from her waist and leaped forward. Her sword, as thin as a cicada's wing, flashed with light as she thrust it towards Liang Ziweng. Liang Ziweng dodged to the side, then countered with a palm strike. The wind from his palm swept past, causing Huang Rong to stagger and take two steps back. Although her Falling Flower Divine Sword Palm was exquisite, her internal energy was far inferior to Liang Ziweng's, and she couldn't gain any advantage in a head-on confrontation.

Guo Jing and Huang Rong joined forces to fight Liang Ziweng. Guo Jing took the lead, using the Eighteen Subduing Dragon Palms to meet the attack head-on; Huang Rong followed behind, using the Falling Flower Sword Palm and her soft sword to maneuver and restrain him. Although their teamwork was excellent, Liang Ziweng was experienced and his palm strikes were cold and sinister, gradually gaining the upper hand. Although Guo Jing's palm techniques were powerful, each strike consumed a large amount of internal energy. After more than twenty moves, his breathing became somewhat rapid, and beads of sweat appeared on his forehead.

Lin Qi leaned against the tree, his fingers lightly tapping the trunk. He was calculating the right moment to strike. Now was not the time—although Guo Jing and Huang Rong were at a disadvantage, they could still hold out for a while. He needed to wait until Liang Ziweng showed a weakness, or until Guo Jing was truly in danger, before making his move. Striking too early, giving Liang Ziweng time to prepare, would be counterproductive.

Mu Nianci stood up, gripping her iron spear, and walked to Lin Qi's side, asking in a low voice, "Brother Lin, shouldn't we go up?" Lin Qi shook his head: "Let's wait a little longer."

Liang Ziweng forced Guo Jing back with one palm strike, then swung his palm at Huang Rong. This strike was swift and ruthless, its chilling force overwhelming Huang Rong, who was about to be struck. Guo Jing rushed forward, shielding her with his body. The palm struck Guo Jing squarely on the shoulder, causing him to groan, a trickle of blood escaping from the corner of his mouth. He swayed, nearly falling.

"Brother Jing!" Huang Rong exclaimed, supporting Guo Jing, her eyes already red.

Liang Ziweng sneered and was about to attack again. His two disciples also surrounded them, swords raised, aimed at Guo Jing and Huang Rong.

Lin Qi couldn't wait any longer. He straightened up and strode forward. Mu Nianci followed behind, gripping her iron spear, but Lin Qi glanced back at her and shook his head. Mu Nianci bit her lip and stopped, but her hand never left the spear shaft.

"Mr. Liang," Lin Qi walked to Guo Jing's side, looked at Liang Ziweng, and said in a low but steady voice, "One should be lenient when one can be lenient."

Liang Ziweng sized him up and sneered, "Who do you think you are? You dare to speak to me?"

Lin Qi wasn't angry. He was used to seeing these people's true colors in Zhongdu and knew they only cared about fists. He said calmly, "I am Lin Qi, leader of the Iron Palm Clan."

Liang Ziweng's expression changed slightly. Of course, he knew about the Iron Palm Clan and Qiu Qianren's reputation. The Iron Palm Clan had a huge influence in Jiangnan, and Qiu Qianren was a top-tier master on par with the Five Greats. But when he looked at Lin Qi's age, who was only in his early twenties, and then at his hands, which were fair and clean, not like someone who had practiced any kind of hard martial arts, a hint of disdain flashed in his eyes.

"The leader of the Iron Palm Clan? You think you can be the leader?" Liang Ziweng sneered. "A disciple of Qiu Qianren? I heard Qiu Qianren has already become a monk, and the Iron Palm Clan is leaderless. How dare a little brat like you call yourself the leader?"

Lin Qi didn't respond. He knew Liang Ziweng was testing him, trying to provoke him. But he wouldn't be provoked by such words. He slowly raised his right palm, the movement was slow, but the power in his palm was already contained, and his internal energy surged through his meridians.

He had been practicing the Yi Jin Du and Du Gu Jian chapter of the Nine Yin Manual for nearly a month. This skill was unassuming, quietly conditioning the muscles and bones and enhancing internal strength, but its effects were real. His internal strength was more than twice as strong as when he left Zhongdu, and his meridians were much wider than before. When he circulated his internal energy, it flowed as smoothly as water, without any stagnation.

He channeled this internal energy into his right palm, the edge of which faintly emanated a sharp aura, like an invisible blade. This is the essence of Iron Palm Kung Fu—not brute force, but sharpness. The palm power is like a knife, concentrated and unyielding, specifically designed to break through an opponent's internal energy and protective true qi. This was taught to him by Qiu Qianren, and it is also a closely guarded secret of the Iron Palm Clan.

Liang Ziweng's expression changed. He felt the power in Lin Qi's palm—not brute force, but a sharpness concentrated to the extreme, as if it could cut through anything. His pupils contracted slightly, and he subconsciously took half a step back.

Lin Qi struck out with his palm.

This palm strike used the fifth stance of the Iron Palm Technique, the "Breaking Army Stance," which was fierce and carried a spiraling force. The palm power was condensed into a single line, heading straight for Liang Ziweng's chest. Where the palm wind passed, a sharp whistling sound emanated from the air, like a sharp blade piercing through the sky. Fallen leaves on the ground were swept up by the palm wind and shattered into powder in the air.

Liang Ziweng was shocked and had no time to dodge, so he could only raise his palm to meet the attack. The two palms collided with a dull thud, like two iron plates hitting each other.

Liang Ziweng felt an incomparably sharp internal force pierce his palm like a steel needle, rushing upwards along the meridians of his arm. This force wasn't a violent impact, but rather like a thin knife, cutting along the meridians, causing numbness and pain wherever it passed. His entire right arm almost lost all feeling for a moment; his fingers were so stiff he couldn't bend them. He staggered back seven or eight steps, each step leaving a deep footprint in the ground, before barely managing to regain his balance.

He looked up at Lin Qi, his eyes filled with horror.

"you--"

Lin Qi withdrew his hand, standing still with an expression unchanged. He glanced at Liang Ziweng and said calmly, "Mr. Liang, do you still want to fight?"

Liang Ziweng gritted his teeth, circulating his internal energy to expel the iron palm force that had invaded his meridians. He discovered that although the internal force was sharp, its quantity was not large enough to cripple his arm. However, if he were to take another blow, the consequences would be unimaginable. He glanced at Lin Qi, then at Guo Jing and Huang Rong, knowing that he was doomed today. The girl with the gun hadn't even made a move yet, and he didn't know her strength. If he continued to entangle himself, he might not even be able to leave.

With a wave of his hand, he turned and left with his two disciples, disappearing into the depths of the bamboo forest.

Guo Jing, supporting Huang Rong, looked at Lin Qi with eyes full of gratitude: "Brother Lin, thank you so much. If it weren't for you, Rong'er and I would have suffered a great loss today."

Lin Qi shook his head: "Brother Guo, you're too kind. How's your injury?"

Guo Jing moved his shoulder. Although it still ached slightly, the bone wasn't broken; it was just a superficial injury. He smiled憨厚ly and said, "It's just a superficial wound, nothing serious. Although the Eighteen Subduing Dragon Palms taught by Qi Gong are powerful, my internal energy isn't enough to unleash the same power as Qi Gong's."

Huang Rong checked Guo Jing's injuries and, after confirming that he was alright, breathed a sigh of relief. She looked at Lin Qi, her eyes filled with admiration: "Brother Lin, when did you become so powerful? Even Liang Ziweng couldn't withstand that palm strike just now."

Lin Qi smiled and said, "I've made some progress in my training these past few days." He didn't elaborate. Some things don't need to be explained too clearly.

Mu Nianci walked over and asked in a low voice, "Brother Lin, are you alright?"

"I'm fine." Lin Qi glanced at her. "And you?"

"I'm fine."

Mu Nianci's hand was still gripping the iron spear, her knuckles white. Lin Qi knew she had been holding back, refraining from charging forward. He patted her shoulder and whispered, "Next time something happens, I won't go alone."

Mu Nianci lowered her head and softly hummed in agreement.

Huang Rong helped Guo Jing sit down under a tree and tended to his shoulder injury. Lin Qi leaned back against the tree and looked up at the sky. The sun was already high overhead; it was almost noon. Hong Qigong hadn't returned yet; he wondered what good things he had found in the mountains.

He touched the copy of the Nine Yin Manual in his pocket, thinking to himself: Although Liang Ziweng has retreated, he won't let this go easily. He was convinced that Guo Jing, having drunk the snake blood, would definitely come looking for trouble again. Wanyan Honglie's men would also come knocking sooner or later. He had to become stronger, strong enough that those people wouldn't dare touch the people around him.

Mu Nianci sat down beside him, placing the iron spear beside her, tip pointing downwards, stuck in the ground. She didn't speak, just sat quietly.

Quiet returned to the hillside. The wind rustled through the treetops. A few birdsongs drifted from afar, clear and melodious.

Lin Qi closed his eyes and continued practicing his internal energy. He still needed to practice the Yi Jin Jing and Duan Gu Jing of the Nine Yin Manual.