Chapter Twenty-Eight: Pursuit and Battle

He Zhixing rode his bicycle at full speed down the mountain. As soon as he reached the downhill stretch, he dared not go too fast, gripping the brakes tightly to control his speed, for the roads in the village were treacherous—climbing was arduous and descending could be perilous.

Following the winding mountain path downward, he soon arrived at the foot of the mountain. There, a crossroad stretched out: heading down led to Huixi Village, Wuzhen, and Shicun, while going up led to another village, Pingshan. Without hesitation, He Zhixing steered his bicycle toward Pingshan Village.

Upon reaching the entrance to Pingshan, he dismounted and began to ask around. Spotting an uncle with a hoe slung over his shoulder, returning from farmwork, He Zhixing inquired, “Uncle, is there someone in your village who carries goods to sell?”

The uncle replied, “Yes, just left not long ago, went to Wawu Village…” He pointed toward the road leading to Wawu Village.

“Thank you, uncle. Goodbye…” He Zhixing waved and sped off on his bicycle.

After riding for over ten minutes, he finally caught up. He Zhixing overtook the man, blocking the path with his bicycle, his gaze intense, a hint of a smile playing on his lips as he looked at him.

Catching his breath slightly, He Zhixing said, “Uncle, do you know you’ve done something immoral in the village?”

The porter, startled by the sudden interception, nearly lost his balance, his shoulder slipping under the weight of the goods. He looked fiercely at He Zhixing and retorted, “What are you talking about? Don’t make false accusations. I don’t know what you mean. Move aside, don’t block the way!”

As he spoke, he quickly pushed forward with his load, attempting to shove He Zhixing aside with apparent ease. But his next move came so swiftly—

As he got close to He Zhixing, the goods on his shoulder transformed into a deadly weapon; the sound of wind whistled as he swung the carrying pole forcefully toward He Zhixing.

He Zhixing, together with his bicycle, dodged sideways, narrowly avoiding the vicious blow. He abandoned the bike, rolling and springing up to his feet, poised in a fighting stance.

Their first round ended.

The man threw his goods to the roadside, gripping the carrying pole in his hands, eyeing He Zhixing warily.

He finally spoke, “I didn’t expect you’d have some skill. In a moment, I’ll show you what happens to busybodies!”

The man’s pole danced like the wind, forming a fierce pattern as he attacked with strikes, thrusts, swings, and sweeps, one move flowing into the next. He Zhixing met him empty-handed, unleashing the thirty-six forms of the Hanyang Eight Techniques. He fought with a smile, exhilarated to have encountered such a formidable opponent.

For a while, the sound of the pole cracking and He Zhixing’s hands blocking merged into a single cacophony. Passersby hid among the roadside weeds, not daring to approach.

After more than ten minutes, the man grew increasingly furious. In his decades of life, he had never met a rival like this, and now this youngster was treating him with such disdain. He tossed the carrying pole aside and lunged forward—

Preparing to unleash his secret acupoint technique in close combat, He Zhixing’s smile deepened; this was exactly what he had been waiting for.

He Zhixing took a deep breath, gathering his energy, channeling it to his eyes, activating his ability to see through. The man’s single hand quickly transformed into a Heart-Piercing Finger, carrying a fierce force aimed at the major pressure points all over He Zhixing’s body. But He Zhixing was fearless—he’d never been afraid, so why worry about tigers?

The man could not inflict serious harm on him. With his vision heightened, He Zhixing could clearly see, at the critical moment, which acupoint the man aimed to strike, and he skillfully blocked the attack with a swift sweep of his palm.

But that wasn’t all. Even more aggravating to his opponent, every time He Zhixing blocked a deadly strike, he would utter the name of the acupoint the man intended to hit, driving him into a fury.

Though using his vision consumed energy, He Zhixing felt invigorated. Gradually, he began to understand the ancient martial art of striking acupoints: it was simply a matter of using inner energy to target the key meridian points, thereby blocking blood flow to reverse or halt circulation.

He realized he had learned the acupoint technique himself, provided he mastered the skill of channeling energy. Those unable to control their inner force could not hope to use it.

The man grew more shocked, changing tactics to target He Zhixing’s eyes and face, combining his attacks with rapid footwork. At once, He Zhixing’s eyes blazed with light!

He was done playing. With a sudden shout, He Zhixing gathered his entire inner force, and as he twisted his head, his palm struck the man’s chest—

With a thud, the man was sent flying two meters, blood spurting from his mouth, left gasping on the ground, propped up on one hand, unable to rise.

He Zhixing slowly picked up his bicycle, straightened the bent handlebars and front wheel, then mounted it. He said to the man, “Uncle, remember from now on not to use deadly force against ordinary people. If I ever find out you harm innocent folk, I’ll hunt you down to the ends of the earth!”