Dragon’s daughter

Song Qingshu endured each blow and strike inflicted upon him, his body bearing the brunt of the assault. Yet, he remained outwardly composed, calmly holding his vegetables and sipping his wine. Though the food on his plate went largely untouched, and the wine glass flowed smoothly to his lips amidst the onslaught.

"Brave lad!" A young boy of around seven or eight years old stood up from a nearby table, turning to a woman draped in a pristine white fur coat. "Mother, I want to help him."

The group of ruffians grew weary from the fight, their enthusiasm waning as they saw Song Qingshu seemingly lifeless. The sound of approaching footsteps caught their attention, causing them to pause. Their eyes fell upon the young child who had arrived, and a wave of laughter erupted. However, their mirth quickly transformed into fervor as they caught sight of the woman accompanying him.

The leader of the ruffians leered and taunted, "Oh, where did such a beautiful little lady come from? If you join me for a drink, I won't mind your little brat."

"You scoundrel, dare to insult my mother!" The boy seethed with rage, snatching a nearby bench and hurling it towards the leader.

Caught off guard, the ruffian leader failed to evade the incoming projectile, and the impact left him momentarily stunned. In his fury, he barked at his comrades, "Don't let anyone touch that lady—attack!"

"Watch out!" Song Qingshu, his face bruised and swollen, couldn't clearly see what was transpiring. However, he sensed a group of burly men charging towards the child.

Observing the oncoming assailants, the boy stood his ground, dispatching one ruffian with a swift strike before taking his position at the center. Despite being surrounded, he skillfully parried every attack, leaving his opponents unable to land a single blow.

"Hmm?" Song Qingshu squinted, focusing his gaze. He noticed the boy's remarkably short stature, yet his movements were agile and his strikes precise. Though he lacked reach, his technique was flawlessly executed, leaving no opening for his adversaries. The few ruffians found themselves unable to breach his defense.

Song Qingshu discerned that the boy's palm technique emphasized defense, reminiscent of the essence of Tai Chi Gong. He couldn't help but wonder about the connection to Wudang. Considering his own status as an abandoned Wudang disciple, he had intended to leave discreetly, lest an awkward conversation ensue.

Song Qingshu's realization dawned upon him as he observed the boy's struggle. Although the child exhibited decent technique, his youth rendered him lacking in strength, gradually succumbing to a disadvantageous position.

The timing to depart discreetly slipped through Song Qingshu's fingers. The ruffians, realizing their inability to subdue a mere child, grew frustrated. One of them brandished a knife, slashing towards the boy.

"Watch out!" Song Qingshu cried out in alarm, swiftly grabbing a nearby bench and rushing towards the scene. He couldn't bear the thought of the child losing his life while attempting to save him.

Wrapped in a white fur coat, the woman also sprang into action. Her hand extended, releasing a white ribbon that encircled the boy, swiftly pulling him away from harm's reach.

As Song Qingshu found himself trapped, he hesitated momentarily before lightly stepping onto a nearby table and launching himself into the fray. Onlookers witnessed a flash of white brilliance as the woman dashed into the midst of the confrontation. Song Qingshu felt weightless, carried by a wave of tenderness, as he was placed beside the boy.

Looking up in astonishment, Song Qingshu beheld the woman wielding the white silk ribbon like a graceful dragon, swirling and darting through the air. In the blink of an eye, she disarmed several men, effortlessly snatching away their weapons, which clattered down the stairs.

Stunned, Song Qingshu stared at the spectacle before him. He had never anticipated such formidable martial prowess from this delicate-looking woman. Thoughts raced through his mind—could this be the legendary Little Dragon Girl? Yet, as he glanced at the boy, all brimming with energy, Song Qingshu couldn't help but feel a twinge of discomfort. He had harbored lofty illusions about the Little Dragon Girl, but never anticipated her having a grown son.

The woman gracefully nodded at Song Qingshu, then clasped the boy's hand, leading him downstairs. Overwhelmed with questions, Song Qingshu swallowed his doubts, choosing to follow them.

The boy glanced back, pulling a mischievous face and shrugging his shoulders, amusing Song Qingshu.

After a brief hesitation, Song Qingshu resolved to catch up. The Little Dragon Girl was, after all, the object of countless men's dreams. If she indeed had a child now, Song Qingshu couldn't pass up the opportunity to meet her.

"Dragon Girl, wait..." Song Qingshu gasped, chasing after them.

Upon hearing his words, the woman paused, turning around with a perplexed expression. "Has my son mistaken you for someone else? I don't believe in dragons."

"Why would you call my mother 'girl'?" The hunky boy glared at him with indignation.

Song Qingshu was taken aback, unsure if this woman was truly the Little Dragon Girl. Hastily, he apologized, attempting to explain himself. "I noticed the resemblance between your attire and weapons, which reminded me of someone from my past. I sincerely apologize if I have caused any offense. Allow me to introduce myself, I am Song Qingshu, and I am deeply grateful for your life-saving intervention."

However, before he could speak further, the boy interjected with a hint of accusation. "It was obvious that I saved you. Instead of thanking me, you express gratitude to my mother. You must have seen my mother's beauty and harbored impure thoughts. I thought you were a decent man, but it seems you're just a disciple now."

His words struck a nerve, leaving both adults feeling embarrassed. The woman in white glared at her son, reprimanding him. "Feier, don't speak nonsense!" She then turned to Song Qingshu, offering an apologetic look. "Please excuse my son's brashness. He doesn't know any better."

As the woman referred to her son as Fei'er, a realization flashed through Song Qingshu's mind. He blurted out in excitement, "Could it be that you are Mrs. Hu?"

The woman regarded him warily. "I don't recall having met you before."

Song Qingshu's excitement grew. He crouched down, gripping the boy's shoulders, and asked eagerly, "Are you Hu Fei, the Snow Mountain Flying Fox?"

The boy stared at him in astonishment. "I am Hu Fei, but I'm not a Snow Mountain Flying Fox. Hey, that name sounds pretty cool. I'll use it as a nickname in the future!"

Madam Hu gently pulled Hu Fei closer, her voice carrying a hint of gravity. "I'm curious as to why you recognize us, mother and son."

"Since I was young, I've held great respect for chivalrous and righteous individuals. Through careful observation and study, I have gained some knowledge about the affairs of the martial world," Song Qingshu replied evasively, furrowing his brow. Suddenly, he looked at the crystal-like Keren before him and hesitated. "However, I heard that Daxia Hu met an unfortunate end, and Madam Hu also died tragically..."

Mrs. Hu smiled softly, her gaze shifting towards Hu Fei. "Indeed, I had intended to follow Big Brother Hu, but when I drew my sword, Fei'er burst into tears. In that moment, I realized that Daxia Miao was a true gentleman, but the world is plagued by villains. Thus, I made the decision to protect and raise the only remaining blood of Brother Hu."

Song Qingshu hadn't anticipated such a deviation from the original plot. It seemed that the butterfly effect resulting from his time travel was beginning to manifest. Lost in his own thoughts, Hu Fei tugged at his sleeve, eyes sparkling with anticipation. "Do you know my father?"

Snapped back to reality, Song Qingshu gazed at the sky, his expression filled with admiration. "Liaodong had a remarkable hero, a true warrior who fought against evildoers. He was someone whom I have always admired. It is a great sorrow that he is no longer with us."

Witnessing his admiration for her husband, Mrs. Hu's expression softened slightly, reminiscing about the days when she and her husband traversed the martial world together. A sweet smile graced her lips.