Secret Manuals

Qiao Ba maintained his magnanimous facade until the Mercedes door thudded shut. "Send those failures back to the ancestral halls," he growled, the limousine's partition sealing his enforcers' muffled struggles. Two meaty thuds followed – the sound of bodies being knocked unconscious against leather seats. Their fate sealed before the convoy reached the first traffic light.

Back in the eighteenth-floor sanctum, Zhang Wu tracked the departing vehicles through floor-to-ceiling windows. "That fat toad's ambitions could swallow Jiangzhou whole," he remarked, ice clinking in his whiskey glass.

Huo Xuan studied the chessboard's lingering stalemate. "The deeper the bow today, the sharper the dagger tomorrow. You should watch your flank, Fifth Brother."

"Crush him within minutes if I cared to." Zhang Wu's chuckle held volcanic heat beneath glacial calm. "But you're right – bloodstains clash with my Armani collection these days."

"Fund proxy forces instead," Huo Xuan suggested, rotating a captured rook between fingers. "Let street rats chew each other's tails while you collect rent."

Zhang Wu's laughter boomed across the marble expanse. "Clever pup! Already three factions owe me their teeth."

Dawn brought legal documents via Qiao Ba's trembling attorney. The lakeside mansion's deed transferred with 40 million yuan stamped on paper – a laughable figure both men knew undervalued the property by half. Not a single protest emerged from Huo Xuan's direction.

Two days later, autumn sunlight glinted off the Hongfu Estate's security gates – "Auspicious Fortune" in gilded characters above armored checkpoints. Huo Xuan's new stronghold sprawled across half an acre of riverfront, its five stories containing enough reinforced concrete to withstand artillery fire.

"From this window last year," Huo Xuan murmured to Lin Yue on the top-floor observation deck, "I watched cargo ships haul coal while chewing stale mantou." Below them, yachts dotted the Yangtze like floating diamonds. "Now I own the view."

Lin Yue traced a finger along bulletproof glass. "And the chessboard beneath it."

Their reflections shimmered against the river's bronze current – a penniless nobody turned jade-collecting magnate, his empire built on enemies' miscalculations. Somewhere in the mansion's vault-like basement, Qiao Ba's "gift" deed rested beside blueprints for expansion.

"Life's unpredictability is truly beyond words," Huo Xuan mused, his breath fogging the floor-to-ceiling window.

Lin Yue rested her head against his shoulder, watching cargo ships plough through the Yangtze's muddy current. "Who could've imagined? What version of you will emerge in ten years, I wonder?"

Huo Xuan's fingers absently twirled a lock of her hair. "Father of three, probably."

"You're impossible!" She jabbed his ribs, laughing until his palm "accidentally" brushed against the curve of her hip.

"Oops. Wrong coordinates."

Her glare could freeze molten steel. "That train ride years ago—you planned this all along, didn't you?"

"Vicious slander!" He ducked as her manicured nails sought vengeance. "I merely appreciated your... sartorial choices that day!"

Their chase through empty rooms turned lethal when Lin Yue's retaliation involved an "accidental" collision with the "Second Master" beneath his belt.

"You—!" Huo Xuan clutched his groin with Oscar-worthy dramatics. "Vile seductress!"

Crimson-faced, Lin Yue tackled him onto a packing crate. "Perverted weasel!"

Over subsequent days, their dance continued—Lin Yue arranging furniture like nesting pheasant, Huo Xuan attempting midnight "fuse checks" near her chosen guest room. By week's end, the Hongfu Estate villa bore her imprint: jade orchids framing the breakfast nook, silk cushions color-coordinated with his eyes.

"Stay. The west wing's antique bed needs stress-testing," he pleaded during twilight chrysanthemum-planting.

Her trowel halted mid-soil. "Try that line at a nightclub, Casanova."

Yet dawn often found her leather jacket draped over his hallway rack, jasmine tea steaming in paired cups—the slow waltz of two predators circling territory neither dared claim.

Every night, he would practice alone in the courtyard—beginning with the Primordial True Martial Fist, followed by Celestial Sword from Beyond, and other techniques.

He prioritized refining the Primordial True Martial Fist, recognizing that Lu Yunxiang's imprint on his technique was problematic.

Weeks slipped by until the eve of the jewelry store's grand opening. That night, immersed in practice, he finally purged the Baji Quan framework from the fist art.

"Purging" meant erasing Lu Yunxiang's stylistic influence while retaining Baji Quan's devastating power—a feat achievable only by mastering Baji to Lu Yunxiang's level.

Of course, comprehension didn't equate to matching Lu's prowess. This breakthrough came solely through the Buddha's Eye Relic; otherwise, it might've taken a lifetime.

"Months of effort just to shed one style. At this rate, fully personalizing the Primordial True Martial Fist will take over a decade." He shook his head wryly. True mastery demands patience.

The next day, Hua Buyi arrived unannounced at the villa. Spotting his master's heavy backpack, Huo Xuan grinned. "Like the new place?"

Hua Buyi nodded. "Adequate for training." He then unzipped the bag, dumping out thirty-six antique manuals: Muscle-Tendon Change Classic, Marrow-Cleansing Classic, Primordial Unity Qi Gong, Thousand-Hand Palm, Sun-Moon Whip Techniques, Taiyi Swordplay, Solar Dragon-Elephant Power, Vase-Breathing Technique, all in traditional script.

Huo Xuan gaped. "Master, have you gone into publishing?"

WHACK!

A slap landed—which Huo Xuan accepted with a grimace.

"These past weeks," Hua Buyi scowled, "I've scaled Wudang, traversed Shaolin, and combed a dozen provinces to gather these. And you mock me?"

Rubbing his head, Huo Xuan protested, "But you always said: 'No master, no mastery.' Now you dump thirty-six secret manuals on me. It's... confusing."

Hua Buyi said, "Master one method, and a hundred will follow. Having reached the Danjin realm, I grasp these manuals at a glance—teaching you is no burden."

Overjoyed, Huo Xuan fished out "Blissful Great Hand Seal" from the pile. "Master, let's start with this one!"

Hua Buyi's fingers twitched—a warning of impending violence. Huo Xuan hastily shielded his head. "Fine, another one then."

"Hmph."

"These texts," Hua Buyi said sternly, "cost me Herculean effort—and a few brawls that offended several masters. Train diligently, lest they come to reclaim their techniques... along with your life."

Huo Xuan stiffened. "Master... did you steal these?"

Hua Buyi coughed awkwardly. "Nonsense. Most were... borrowed."

Skepticism flooded Huo Xuan's face. These are closely guarded secrets of major sects—how could they be 'borrowed' so easily? But fearing his master's temper, he swallowed the question.

Regardless of provenance, Huo Xuan was grateful. He had Aunt Hu prepare a feast and uncorked two bottles of premium liquor plundered from Zhang Wu, toasting his master's return.

In rare high spirits after a few drinks, Hua Buyi declared: "Huo Xuan, during my travels, I secured you a marriage arrangement."

"Pfft—!"

Wine sprayed across the floor as Huo Xuan choked. Face frozen in shock, he rasped, "Master... you can't be serious."