Chapter Four: Trouble Comes Knocking

"At last, the Seafarer Fist Technique—its forms and routines—has finally surpassed the beginner's stage." Bai Li Feihong grinned, showing his teeth. No matter how much sweat it took, as long as there was progress, it was all worth it.

[Seafarer Fist Technique (Forms): Proficient, 5/400]

To reach mastery from proficiency in this martial art required four hundred experience points.

"The more experience required, the more weighty the skill must be?" Bai Li Feihong gave a wry smile.

He recalled that many senior brothers in the Seafarer Martial Hall had spent three to five years practicing the forms before reaching proficiency.

After bathing, he rested.

Lying on the hard wooden bed, his mind kept turning over the sixteen forms of the Seafarer Fist, pondering their essential meaning. The once obscure and impenetrable theories became, upon careful contemplation, as sweet as nectar—bringing him joy amid the learning.

Morning practice.

Bai Li Feihong executed the sixteen forms of the Seafarer Fist in one smooth set, the transitions as fluid as rising and falling waves, carrying a powerful momentum, the chain of punches unbroken.

He did not pause midway.

By the end, sweat soaked his body, and he was slightly out of breath.

Senior Brother Zhang Qianshan stared wide-eyed, his expression stunned, his jaw agape in disbelief.

This new disciple had only been here three days. On the first day, Zhang Qianshan had critiqued the boy for his lack of coordination. The next day, he’d shown cleverness in quickly memorizing the forms. But now, after a single night, he could execute the Seafarer Fist with such proficiency that he no longer seemed a novice, but a practitioner who’d honed the technique for years.

“Not bad. It seems you had an epiphany last night while away from the hall, worked hard, and have now grown completely familiar with the forms.” Zhang Qianshan kept a stern face as he addressed Bai Li Feihong. “But do not grow arrogant. To master the routines is only the beginning, just the foundation for forging your body.

The essence of the Seafarer Fist lies in the power of the stance. Only by integrating stance force into all sixteen forms—so that strength follows the punch and the fist follows intention—can one cultivate vital energy.

Since you’ve mastered the forms, you already possess a certain understanding. Now it’s time I teach you the three core stance methods of the Seafarer Fist.”

Zhang Qianshan was curious to see if this clever junior could perform yet another miracle. If he truly was a martial prodigy, he would recommend him to the master, who might then pass on the Blood River Blade Technique.

Let him become the hall’s signature martial artist, attracting more students and relieving the hall’s financial pressures.

“To clarify: stance training forges your willpower, stamina, strength, and resilience. It regulates the circulation of vital energy—this is the very foundation of martial arts.

The three stance methods of the Seafarer Fist are:

First, the Reef Stance—it is the primary force-cultivation method. The world is a sea, man is the reef; battered by countless waves, the reef stands unmoved. Its essence is to seek stability in stillness.

Second, the Wave Stance—as the waves rise and fall, they carry boundless force. Its essence is to seek change in motion.

Third, the Whale Stance—still as a reef when unmoving, yet thunderously powerful in motion. When integrated with the forms, in combat, the alternation of stillness and motion can overwhelm an opponent.”

Senior Brother Zhang explained the stances in detail, demonstrating them for Bai Li Feihong. He showed how to blend the three stances into the Seafarer Fist, multiplying its power manifold, making the punches surge like endless waves; once the momentum is built, few can withstand them and could be beaten to death by the technique.

Zhang Qianshan was patient, repeating his explanations as many times as needed until Bai Li Feihong had no more questions, then left the martial hall.

[Seafarer Fist Technique (Complete): Novice, 105/800]

Only now had Bai Li Feihong truly learned the complete martial art.

But to raise this skill further, the experience required had increased again.

And his previously proficient forms had transformed into true initiation into the Seafarer Fist—the forms and routines, the three stances, all now genuinely at the entry level, no longer incomplete.

“What a scoundrel that Bai Li Feihong is. Little Four, you were right; he’s got money now, even joining the Seafarer Martial Hall for training.”

On the street, four burly men in coarse clothes eyed the entrance to the Seafarer Martial Hall.

The speaker had a scar across his face, his arms and chest criss-crossed with old wounds beneath his hemp shirt. He spat out a bamboo toothpick, his greedy eyes glinting, his grin broad.

“Scarface, Bai Li Feihong is now with the Seafarer Hall. I’m worried their martial artists might stand up for him.”

“Don’t worry. He’s only a paying apprentice. The hall won’t risk offending our Canal Guild over just one student.” Scarface thumped his chest. “I’m now a member of the Dongbin City Canal Guild. From now on, you’re all my little brothers—I’ll look after you.”

“Thank you, Scarface!” the three men exclaimed, thrilled.

To join the Canal Guild meant having a small claim over territory at the docks—no longer having to risk their lives fighting for a spot.

“Scarface, Bai Li Feihong’s entered the alley.”

“Let’s go, quickly! Block him. Don’t let the bastard escape.”

Bai Li Feihong was in high spirits, hurrying home to try upgrading the Seafarer Fist skill with skill points.

Though he still didn’t know how to earn them, the ten points he possessed were precious.

But he had to experiment to understand the Book of Skills better.

Besides, even without points, diligent practice and experience could still advance his abilities.

Skill points were just a shortcut.

Suddenly, Bai Li Feihong stopped in his tracks, intending to turn back—only to find old acquaintances blocking his way in the alley.

Scarface, Black Ox, Yuan Little Four, and Thunder.

Scarface had once fought over territory with the foreman Bai Li Feihong used to follow. The scar on his face was from Bai Li Feihong’s own sneak attack—a wound that had put him out of action for half a month.

“Tsk, tsk, nice clothes. The resettlement really paid off for you; the authorities must’ve given you a tidy sum,” Scarface remarked, twirling a dagger, eyes narrowed as he looked over the transformed Bai Li Feihong.

He remembered their old grudge all too well.

Bai Li Feihong glanced at Yuan Little Four by Scarface’s side; all his care for the boy at the docks had been for nothing.

“What do you want, Scarface?”

“Hand over your money. Take another stabbing from me, and we’ll call our feud settled.” Scarface tossed the knife in his hand, eyes like two cold, curved blades.

He had a habit: when he was about to get vicious, he’d squint and grin at his victim.

Bai Li Feihong sneered, “Just the four of you trash want to rob me? Get lost before I dirty my hands.”

“Tsk, tsk, a few days of martial training and your mouth gets bigger.” Scarface wasn’t angry; instead, he closed in step by step.

“Book of Skills, upgrade Seafarer Fist to proficiency.”

With a thought, Bai Li Feihong initiated his first attempt at applying skill points.

The skill page changed instantly.

Seafarer Fist: Proficient, 105/1600.

The experience of eight hundred training sessions flooded his mind, and in a flash, his grasp of the technique soared to proficiency.

Even more wondrous—his body changed. It brimmed with explosive power, as if he’d trained day and night, eight hundred times over.

His eyes shone with a sharp light.

His first use of the Book of Skills was indeed extraordinary.

In a blink, he’d reached the level that many apprentices spent years attaining.

His muscles hardened, his grip at least doubled in strength. His whole body flushed red, blood energy surged, and sweat poured from his searing skin.

He could feel a powerful current of vital energy coursing through his limbs and bones.

Blood-infused!

The three stance methods leveled up to proficiency as well.

Bai Li Feihong stood rooted, like an ancient tree with deep roots, unshaken by fierce winds; like a reef amid crashing waves, unmoved and proud.

Scarface grew uneasy—the sight of Bai Li Feihong, face flush as if feverish, drenched in sweat as though he’d just leapt from a boiling pool, filled him with foreboding.

What was happening?

Why did apprehension well up in his heart?

Bai Li Feihong looked up and smiled faintly. He turned and swept out a kick.

The force came like a raging wave, rolling over everything in its path.

Thunder, true to his nickname, was a brawny man with a booming voice. He watched Bai Li Feihong closely, ready to strike at any moment.

But confronted with such a ferocious kick in the narrow alley, he felt as if he were a lone boat in a stormy sea, about to be swallowed whole.

Yet Thunder was bold. Gritting his teeth, he lunged forward like a bear, hoping to break through with brute force and send Bai Li Feihong flying.

But he underestimated Bai Li Feihong’s new strength.

He’d reached the first tier of blood-infused martial mastery.

He was no match.

Bang—

Thunder’s burly frame took a direct kick and slammed into Black Ox. His face turned ashen, his arms tried to block the blow, but the force snapped his arm and wracked his body with agony.

He blacked out, certain he’d nearly been kicked to death. His body flew sideways into Black Ox, sparing him from smashing into the wall and saving his life.

But Black Ox fared worse.

His forehead cracked against the wall with a thud.

Blood spattered, his vision spun, and he crumpled to the ground unconscious.

“Bai Li Feihong!”

Scarface was enraged by the sudden defeat of his men. Brandishing his dagger, he rushed at Bai Li Feihong.

Bai Li Feihong sprang onto the wall, nimble as a swallow, vaulted over Scarface’s head, and kicked him in the back of the skull.

Thunk!

It was like a sledgehammer to the head.

Scarface was instantly dazed.

Bai Li Feihong gave him no chance to recover; he steadied himself, grabbed Scarface by the neck, and slammed him against the wall.

Crash!

Blood splattered.

Scarface blacked out on the spot.

“Feihong… Brother… have mercy, please!” Yuan Little Four collapsed to his knees, begging, his face twisted with terror.

Bai Li Feihong curled his lip in disdain. “Take them away. Remember, if you come looking for trouble again, it won’t just be a beating—I’ll break all five limbs.”

With that, he tidied himself and picked up the fallen dagger.

Aside from a kitchen knife at home, he truly lacked any weapons for self-defense.

He couldn’t very well hack people with a kitchen knife—who knew what diseases they might have? And once used for violence, it couldn’t be used to prepare food.

Grrrr—

His stomach growled.

Martial training was beneficial in every way except its enormous drain on energy.

It was said that high-level martial artists could eat an entire fat pig in one meal—always either on their way to eat or already at the table.

At this moment, Bai Li Feihong thought nothing of the fight—his focus was on eating, replenishing what his body had consumed through training.

Patrol Officer Lu happened to see Scarface and his men staggering out of the alley, bloodied. He frowned.

“You four—stop right there!” Officer Lu Jingxian called out, saber at his hip, baton in hand.

Scarface, full of pent-up rage, wanted to lash out, but on seeing Officer Lu, he forced a fawning smile, ignoring his aching head and bowing low.

“Officer Lu, patrolling the streets—what a coincidence to meet you here.”

“How did you get those injuries?”

“Just a misunderstanding, sir. We tripped and fell.”

Scarface quickly slipped a silver coin into the officer’s hand.

Officer Lu accepted it without a change of expression.

“Really tripped?”

“Absolutely, not a word of a lie.”

“All right, move along. Changsheng Street’s a den of snakes and dragons—don’t linger here or you’ll provoke someone you can’t handle. Even the Canal Guild can’t protect you idiots.”

He waved his baton, dismissing them.

Scarface thanked him profusely, not daring to show a hint of discontent.

Turning away, his face twisted with pain.

There’s nothing worse than running afoul of a corrupt cop.

It’s true—better a ruthless enemy than a black-hearted patrolman.

“Four laborers, beaten like this, must’ve messed with someone’s martial artist,” Officer Lu mused as he resumed his rounds.

Anyone running a martial hall on Changsheng Street had connections all over Dongbin City. As a lowly officer, he knew better than to offend their martial artists.

“Bai Li Feihong, just you wait!” Scarface seethed; the loss of a silver coin hurt worse than his wounds. His eyes blazed with resentment, making Yuan Little Four shudder and avoid his gaze.

“Little Four, isn’t your sister said to be beautiful?” Scarface suddenly remarked.

Yuan Little Four looked at him in terror.

“The Canal Guild’s Branch Master Zhang’s eighth concubine just passed. Your sister’s so pretty—if she married Zhang as his concubine, you’d be on your way to the top as his brother-in-law, managing the warehouse at the docks, riches at your fingertips.”

Scarface pressed him, convinced he knew people’s weaknesses—no one escaped greed.

Yuan Little Four’s mind struggled, but he knew his sister’s beauty had already drawn the attention of many thugs. If he hadn’t stuck with Scarface, those wolves would have pounced long ago.

She was coming of age and ready for marriage.

If only…

It was as if a devil in his heart whispered temptations.