Chapter Thirty-Two: A Companion to Wine

In the world of martial artists, unless they are from the same sect, every duel is a matter of life and death. If you do not kill, you will be killed. Should you fall in a fair fight, even your fellow disciples cannot seek revenge on your behalf. Such is the code of the martial world.

Once you step onto the arena, you accept the wager of life and death. Surviving or falling is no one's fault but your own. There have been countless instances where a defeated foe, spared in mercy, trains bitterly for years, only to return for vengeance. Kou Li had no intention of becoming such a protagonist in that tale.

He did not see Lu Yao of the Five Forms Hall as a mere woman; she was an opponent worthy of respect. Thus, the only way to honor such an adversary was to fight her to the death.

At that moment, a massive shadow suddenly appeared in his path.

Three people had come from the Five Forms Hall this time: Lu Yao, Bai He the White Crane of the Serpent and Crane Duo, and the silent giant whose presence was strangely unremarkable despite his size—so much so that one might instinctively overlook him. The fact that he could achieve such subtlety spoke volumes; his mastery of boxing had permeated his very bones. Kou Li himself, when in the throes of intense emotion, could radiate a presence like a predatory tiger, but this man remained in that state perpetually, as if he were a hibernating old bear.

Facing Kou Li’s Dragon Form Tiger Claw, the giant remained silent. Only at the last moment did he turn, exposing his back to the attack.

Kou Li’s claw struck deep into the man’s flesh. On any ordinary opponent, this strike would have left five bloody holes, perhaps even ripped out the heart. Yet his tiger claw felt as if it were driven into thick mud—unable to go deeper or pull free, sinking further as if his very blood and energy were being drawn in.

Changing tactics in an instant, Kou Li pressed forward instead of retreating. He drove with his shoulder, then elbow, then fist, transferring power seamlessly—a Tiger Fist technique called “Seated Mountain, Single Whip!”

The air exploded with a thunderous crack.

This blow was aimed at the back of the giant’s head. No matter how skilled, few could harden their skills to the point of protecting the base of the skull. If this landed, it would surely shatter the skull and send brain matter flying.

At last, the giant moved. With a shudder, he shifted his right foot, rolled his shoulders, and raised his arms in a gesture reminiscent of a man stretching lazily—Bear Form: Winter Bear Loosens Waist.

In that instant, his body seemed to transform into a massive furnace—yet not one that burned fiercely, but rather a gentle hand-warmer used by noblewomen in winter, radiating a comforting warmth like sunlight on a cold day. The boiling bloodlust of battle cooled, sapping the will to fight. An ordinary martial artist would have lost their resolve and been finished with a single bear’s strike.

But Kou Li’s will and technique were sharper than most. He flexed his fingers, releasing and gripping again, his shoulder blades opening and closing like great fans. With each movement of his fingers, his arms swung back and forth, and his legs adjusted beneath him, allowing his form to rebound fluidly.

At the same time, his palms twisted upward in a raking motion, echoing the ferocity of tiger claws. This pounce bore traces of both Tiger and Leopard Fist—the principles between them, after all, were intertwined.

A soft sigh sounded, “My junior sister is unruly. Brother, please give me face and let me take her away.”

To Kou Li, it was as if a thunderclap had struck. His stamina, already near its limits, finally gave out. Sweat beaded from his pores as his strength drained. Meanwhile, the giant’s muscular shoulder suddenly bulged, hurling both Kou Li and his tiger claw aside with a tremendous force.

This was the Bear Form’s “Shoulder Flick,” but in the giant’s hands, it seemed almost supernatural.

Kou Li shuddered, then landed lightly. He understood this was a gesture of goodwill—or perhaps an apology.

“A senior wouldn’t act as you have,” Kou Li said after a moment of silence.

When he had been at death’s door, the other had stood by, even taking time to comment on his moves. Yet when it was his junior sister in danger, he intervened immediately, disregarding the rules of the duel. If everyone behaved thus, the martial world would surely descend into chaos.

Bai He managed a bitter smile, about to speak, when an explosive roar rang out. “Despicable Five Forms Hall, sneaking into our school to cause trouble while we were away!”

Yue Wuhuo stormed in, covering a yard with every stride. In two breaths, he stood before the giant, his steps fused with the Tiger Pounce, revealing a depth of mastery in Tiger Fist that surpassed Kou Li’s own.

With a single motion, he lifted and swung his arm as if uprooting a mountain, his tiger claw striking like a hammer, unleashing a torrent of hot, fierce energy. Unlike the hidden savagery of the bear, Yue Wuhuo’s presence was naked aggression: I am here to tear you apart! I am here to bite you to death! Like a ferocious tiger king.

The giant dared not be careless. He braced his bear-like shoulders, and the air detonated with a blast, shaking the entire floor of the hall.

Within a radius of ten yards, the wooden floorboards splintered with countless cracks.

Bai He attempted to step forward, but a voice stopped him gently. “Brother Bai, your actions don’t quite follow the rules.”

“I can’t just stand by and watch my junior sister be beaten to death,” Bai He replied with a wry smile, his expression hardening. The chorus of “cranes calling” rose again, his long sleeve swirling up like a pillar of cloth, whipping out with the force of an iron lance.

In the martial world, the higher one’s mastery, the looser their clothing. Common thugs, assassins, and bodyguards wore tight attire for ease of movement and killing. True masters, who understood the use of inner power, wore loose clothing—if they wore anything tight, their garments would shred with every exertion of force.

A metallic crash rang out as the cloth-spear shattered, forcing Bai He back a step in shock and anger. “Twenty-Four Solar Terms Whip—you’ve tempered your bones?”

The human spine has twenty-four vertebrae; each, when refined, becomes a source of force, each force becomes a whip. Only those who have completed bone-tempering can wield such energy.

“Don’t get distracted,” the opponent chuckled, attacking again.

Bai He reined in his astonishment as the two figures blurred before the watching crowd, the cries of the crane growing sharper and faster until merging into a single piercing sound—then suddenly transforming into a great bear’s roar that shook the dust from the beams and pillars.

“Impressive. Using the bear as force, the crane as form—reversing the method of Yin and Yang, countering the Bear’s Classic with the Bird’s Extension, wielding the art of dividing muscles and disjointing bones, hiding skill within clumsiness, embodying dull form with awesome might. To think you, Brother Bai, would use Five Forms Fist as the foundation to derive such killing techniques—even I, Luo Yanzong, am ashamed by comparison.”

Though he spoke thus, the surging waves of force were hard to imagine as anything but the sound of blood coursing violently through a human body. Every time a wave crashed against the shore, it exploded with a resounding blast.

This was the spectacle of two body-refining masters unleashing their full power. The potential of the human body was truly astonishing—and this was still far from its limits.

At last, when the waves reached their peak, as if mountains crumbled and the earth split, a final explosion sounded. The two figures came into view: Luo Yanzong looked relaxed and composed, while Bai He was pale, his hair ornament shattered, his energy clearly spent.

“I have lost again,” Bai He said bitterly.

“Bear’s Classic, Bird’s Extension; Tiger and Leopard Strike Together—two great killing moves. You prepared them for me, didn’t you? Had I not broken through in body refinement by luck, I would have lost. When you unify all Five Forms, come challenge me again,” Luo Yanzong replied indifferently.

The implication: Bai He was still not worthy as an opponent—not even capable of a lucky win.

Somehow, the giant had appeared at Bai He’s side, casting a worried glance at him, Lu Yao unconscious on his back.

Yue Wuhuo, still seething, moved forward but was intercepted by Luo Yanzong, who said sincerely, “You and I are friends, and I know you don’t mean it, but since we’re here, we must follow the rules of the martial world. Otherwise, both my Burning Body Hall and your Five Forms Hall will become laughingstocks.”

Bai He’s face alternated between pale and blue. He knew what Luo Yanzong meant—interfering in another’s duel in their own hall was a grave loss of face. He sighed, “In three days, I’ll host fifty banquet tables at the largest inn in Yangcheng, inviting the elders of the martial world to drink with your junior brother as an apology. The Five Forms Hall does not shy away from defeat.”

“No need. If I, Lu Yao, challenge someone to a duel, I am not afraid of being killed. Put me down, I can still fight!” Lu Yao’s eyes were red, struggling to rise.

“Indeed, there’s no need.”

Kou Li mounted a ladder with a plaque, solemnly hanging the sign of Burning Body Hall above the door before turning. “I have a bad habit—I don’t like others standing up for me. My affairs, I always handle myself. You needn’t pay for the wine. One year from today, I’ll bring the best wine to your Five Forms Hall and drink with you.”

“I’ve tried Tiger and Leopard Strike Together. Next time, I’ll pair Bear’s Classic, Bird’s Extension with wine.”

As Kou Li descended the ladder, he noticed that aside from Luo Yanzong and Yue Wuhuo, there was a young man whose face was cold as ice, his eyes devoid of emotion—the third senior of the hall, renowned for his unmatched talent, Mo Yi?

For some reason, at his first glance at Mo Yi, Kou Li felt a strange sense of familiarity.