A Man Full of Mysteries

No one inquired about the mission details. Instead, they silently unpacked their rations and began eating with deliberate slowness—chewing methodically, sipping broth before touching solid food.

The middle-aged man who had greeted them offered to prepare a meal, but the team refused. Huo Xuan understood: sudden exposure to unfamiliar cuisine in a new environment risked digestive issues.

Their provisions, flown in specially for X Unit operatives, were simple yet nutritionally balanced—luxuries unavailable to outsiders.

The meal lasted forty minutes, followed by light activity before rest. Night operations demanded preparation.

Huo Xuan sat cross-legged, channeling the Diamond Seal Method—an esoteric Vajrayana practice harmonizing body, mind, and speech. A peculiar aura emanated from him as he cycled through the three seals.

The others sensed it immediately. Fang Lingtian's eyes narrowed. "Didn't expect Huo Xuan to practice Tantric methods. I wonder which lama taught him."

Leafblade, flipping his knife, smirked. "We've had Tantric practitioners before—flashy but useless in combat. Agile, yet lacking firepower."

No one disagreed. Tantric cultivation emphasized mental discipline and endurance over offensive capability.

Ancient Rock, usually silent, opened his eyes. "He's no Tantric monk. Just borrowing their techniques to prepare for tonight."

Leafblade raised an eyebrow. "How'd you figure that out, Woodblock?" (Woodblock being Ancient Rock's nickname.)

"My mediocre talent kept me at Hua Jin for thirty years," Ancient Rock admitted. "But my grandmaster was a Dan Jin master. Those years observing him taught me momentum reading."

He studied Huo Xuan. "I count at least three distinct martial foundations in him."

"What's momentum reading?" Even Thunderstorm looked intrigued.

"It reveals a fighter's core lineage," Ancient Rock explained. "Every style originates from a mother frame—the foundational posture passed down by its creator. Each carries a unique signature."

Leafblade scoffed. "You're saying you can trace his roots?"

Ancient Rock remained unfazed. "Observe his stance—the intertwining serpent-and-tortoise energy. That's Lu Wudi's True Martial Mother Frame. Lu synthesized Wudang's essence into this form. I recognized it when he visited my grandmaster."

Zhu Hong's expression shifted. "Lu Wudi—ranked seventeenth on National Security's most-wanted, a Dan Jin master. Is Huo Xuan his disciple?"

Ancient Rock shook his head. "There's more. His structure also carries Shaolin's Heart-Mind Fist—a closely guarded secret. A decade ago, I saw a monk demonstrate its sixth variation."

Leafblade laughed incredulously. "So he's Lu Wudi's and Shaolin's disciple? Pull the other one."

Yuan Xin leaned forward. "Woodblock, what else do you see?"

Ancient Rock exhaled. "My knowledge is limited. Beyond those, I sense dragon-tiger ferocity, soaring dragon momentum, and unified intent—all disjointed within him."

The team exchanged glances. Just how many grandmasters has this guy studied under?

Huo Xuan listened without reacting. Ancient Rock's insight impressed him—identifying not just Heart-Mind Fist and True Martial Mother Frame, but even the residual energies of Dragon-Riding Step, Tai Chi Mother Frame, and Dragon-Tiger Posture. Still, he kept his eyes shut. Some secrets were best left unconfirmed.

Rose, noting his meditative stillness, couldn't resist probing. "Huo Xuan! Stop pretending—we're all watching you."

Reluctantly, he opened his eyes. "Yes? What can I do for you?"

The team exchanged skeptical glances. Leafblade voiced their collective doubt: "Huo Xuan, care to share how many martial arts you've actually mastered?"

Huo Xuan sidestepped the question. "I've only had one shifu(Master)."

Rose scoffed. "Impossible! Who could possibly know that many styles?"

Too tired to argue, Huo Xuan shrugged. "My shifu is extraordinary. That's why one word from him got me into the X Unit."

Silence fell. Anyone with connections to X was clearly no ordinary figure—though his master's identity remained a mystery.

After two more hours of rest, dusk settled, and the team reached peak physical readiness. Fang Lingtian—deputy leader of the Violent Squad and B-team's field commander—opened his eyes.

"Time's up. Five minutes to gear up. Move out at 19:00," he ordered, his tone icy.

The team sprang into action, assembling an arsenal of modern weaponry: pistols, grenades, night-vision goggles, sniper rifles—nothing was overlooked.

When Rose tried handing Huo Xuan his share, he declined. "I won't need these." Hua Buyi's warning echoed in his mind: Those who rely on external tools will never reach Dan Jin.

Rose shrugged. "Suit yourself."

Instead of weapons, Huo Xuan donned a gray tactical bodysuit and flexible cloth shoes—lightweight yet supremely functional.

"Move out!"

At Fang Lingtian's command, the eight operatives streaked from the tent like a phantom dragon, bypassing patrols undetected.