Chang Dong was genuinely at a loss for words. After Li Jinao sat back down, she whispered to him, "You'll eventually be caught out like this." "What's the big deal?" she replied, "It's just another layer of wrapping—after all, isn't that what we do all the time?" "Won't it fall through?" "Well," she was full of confidence, "I have a knife... " She added, lowering her voice further, "And it's a new one." Chang Dong found himself utterly drained just from talking to her. Li Jinaoo looked hesitant: "No way, this chicken is too wild..." Before he could finish speaking, Zhen Sihai gave a sudden, vigorous leap. Li Jinaoo felt a growing concern—he could barely believe that such a chicken, bound as it was, could still manage to spring up with such vigor. It simply wasn't as impressive as... He glanced over at Zhen Shanhe. To his relief, Zhen Shanhe remained completely composed, gazing straight ahead, lying calmly in the wind, with two splints strapped to his neck, showing no sign of disturbance. The difference between these two chickens was truly remarkable. Fei Tang, seizing every available moment, turned to Ye Liuxi for guidance: "Miss Xi, could you teach me two or three moves? I can't just wing it!" Ye Liuxi demonstrated how to hold the knife, instructing him to press the concave part of his palm and the base of his thumb against the knife handle, emphasizing that he must avoid gripping too tightly, as that would cause excessive muscle tension: "See? Five fingers—apply pressure with the last two, and relax the first three. Hold the knife lightly." "Don't rely on your wrist—use your shoulders Old sayings go: "A inch of length is an inch of strength." Think about it—when you use your wrist as the pivot, your wrist is slender and prone to breaking, and it's also tiring to operate. Moreover, the reach of the blade is only as long as the blade itself. But when you use your shoulder as the pivot, your entire shoulder is in contact with the blade, so when you swing and rotate, how long must the radius of motion be? Fat Tang's eyes sparkled: "Miss Xi, with your explanation, I now truly grasp the essence of sword technique." Chang Dong, listening from the side, felt he wanted to wipe his forehead in exasperation. Miss Ye taught Fat Tang several fundamental movements of swordplay: cut, strike, push, block, lift, and sweep. Fat Tang still wasn't satisfied: "Miss Xi, is there any special move, like the 'Eighteen Hands of Dragon Descending'? " Miss Ye glanced at him: "What in the world of martial arts cannot be broken?" Fat Tang, clearly well-versed in wuxia films, answered confidently: "Only speed cannot be broken." "Exactly—special techniques are all about speed. Look at "Then let's go. When you reach the absolute peak of speed, you become a world champion. But if you can't move fast, you'll just stroll around the neighborhood, feeling the difference, right?" Fei Tang pondered thoughtfully. "Xie Jie, you've really put it into philosophical terms." Xie Lie said, "Of course. Once you've mastered all the techniques, the real training begins—the art of speed. When you reach a certain level of speed, you become Fei Tang the Swift Blade. At that point, you can create any move you desire, and as you create more, you'll eventually establish your own school of technique. Do you understand?" Fei Tang was thrilled. "Yes, I understand." "That's all that matters. You've graduated—go now." Chang Dong habitually lifted his wrist to check his watch, only to realize it had already been sold. That didn't matter. He could estimate: the entire teaching process had lasted less than ten minutes. In just ten minutes, Fei Tang had not only grasped the essence of swordsmanship but also earned the title of a traveling master, with plans to establish his own school of martial arts. Truly, no teacher could be more — Then everything went smoothly. By the time the sun set, several of them had already arrived at the shop. It was still the red-flowered tree, but now much busier and larger in scale—almost like a small underground city, divided into residential, market, dining, and entertainment zones. Li Jinao was thrilled; he had just asked for the location of the entertainment area and then immediately carried his stage box over there. The shop was full of guests, many of whom had come from Xiaoyangzhou to escape the chaos and decided to stay put, hoping to hear news. The news was all mixed up—some said the Scorpion Eye had fled in panic, others claimed Xiaoyangzhou was now completely surrounded and running out of food—each account detailed and serious, as if it were all true. Chang Dong first drove the car to the parking lot, which had nearly twenty spots and already held three or four vehicles—mostly small vans and Jeeps, all a bit older. But having a car meant the conditions were at least acceptable, and perhaps it would be easier to find gasoline here. The rules at Honghua Tree are pretty much the same—power cuts at 11 p.m., and everyone takes showers in the communal area. Changdong reserved a suite, and after dinner, everyone has their own activities: Ding Liu wants to go to the market, and Gao Shen naturally accompanies her. Fei Tang practices his sword techniques, Ye Liuxi takes a shower, and Changdong heads to the garage. The parking area is dimly lit and quieter because it's farther from the activity zones. Changdong unfastens the Zhenshanhe and sets a bowl of millet rice beside him. Since Zhenshanhe's neck is constrained, it finds it difficult to lower its head and peck at the rice, but it quickly figures out a rhythm: when Changdong is working on the car, Zhenshanhe strolls around nearby; when Changdong rests, Zhenshanhe comes closer and Changdong gently scoops up millet to feed it. This garage repair is a major undertaking—taking four or five hours to complete—and with Zhenshanhe idly strolling by, it's been a great source of comfort and distraction. The front impact beam was slightly bent, something he couldn't straighten out. Throughout the day, the dashboard and lights remained normal. Changdong first checked the levels and for any leaks in the various fluids, then inspected tire pressure and alignment, cleared away stones and debris, laid down the floor mat, and crawled under the vehicle, holding a compact flashlight to his mouth, tightening each bolt one by one. The woman smiled, "Boss, don't you feel a bit stiff by evening? I have several sisters—I'd love to show you around." "No, thank you. You can't make a sale here. Go see elsewhere—don't waste my time." The woman didn't leave. "Sharpening the blade doesn't hurt the wood-cutting, does it? A bit of fresh air makes work go smoother." Changdong paid no attention to her, and she kept talking. At first with a smile, but when it became clear she wouldn't close the deal, her tone grew more direct. "Boss, can't I at least have a little something to show for my trip? You're a man who drives iron-wheeled carts—so stingy, really. It wouldn't look good if people heard this." It seemed clear now that he couldn't simply send her away without payment. Changdong reached into his pocket and pulled out a piece of gold foil money. The woman took it with satisfaction and said, "Thank you, boss." Then she turned and walked away, folding the gold foil into a roll and pressing it into the fold of her blouse, just leaving a small portion visible—this was the custom: As she reached the door, she bumped into Ye Liuxi wearing a mask. The woman straightened her posture with pride, gave her a confident glance, and passed by, leaving behind a lingering scent of powder. Ye Liuxi was now displeased. She removed her mask and strode briskly toward the car. "Changdong!" Changdong emerged from beneath the car. "Hmm?" "What did you do? Why did you give her money?" "I didn't do much—just wanted some quiet." Ye Liuxi didn't believe her: if she didn't do anything, why give money? When Ye Liuxi was selling watermelons and grilled skewers, she stayed still and did nothing, yet no one ever came to offer her money. "Then give me money, and I'll make sure you get quiet." "Give me money, and you'll just walk away?" "Yes, I won't stay if I'm not given something." Changdong nodded. "Alright, then, take your time. See if I'll give you money." He started the car, listened carefully to the engine's idle sound, and smelled the exhaust. As he got out, he saw Ye Liuxi standing against the car, Ye Liuxi gave him a withering look: "You don't understand at all." Chang Dong said, "You must be..." He swallowed the rest of the sentence, feeling it wasn't quite right to say aloud. He paused, then pushed her gently toward the car. He remembered buying warming patches before departure, and indeed found them in his bag. He took one out and peeled it off for her. Seeing that she was wearing only a single-shirt, he helped attach it to the outside of her shirt. Then he wrapped her in his own coat to keep her waist and abdomen warm. "If you feel uncomfortable, just stay put," he said. "Wait a little longer—once I've finished, we'll go together." He then returned to the undercarriage of the vehicle. Yet she had a constitution that never fell ill—she never caught a cold from wind or chill, and even when injured… well, last time her foot ankle was cut by a salt shell, it had been excruciatingly painful, and the wound still hadn’t fully healed. She could only accept a condition that required constant care but didn’t hurt—something like mental illness. With that thought, she grew increasingly restless, stepped out of the car again, dragged a mat to sit on, and tilted her head as she watched him rush in and out, first observing the wrenches, pliers, and maintenance fluids, then eventually just watching him. Finding a man who could completely overshadow her was no easy task. First, he wouldn’t necessarily outpace her in parkour. Second, he wouldn’t necessarily be as patient as she was. Third, he wouldn’t necessarily appeal to her in terms of looks. Changdong was slender, but his muscle tone was solid—not overly graceful or flamboyant. When he held her, his arms brushed gently against her waist—could he not be a bit stronger? That was exactly what she liked. Yes, and he should also be reserved—this was her new standard. Ye Liuxi lowered his head, cr Chang Dong glanced at her, knowing that women during their periods could be quite difficult, but didn’t want to make her anxious—so he just wanted to comfort her a bit. As he was about to walk over, Ye Liuxi suddenly headed straight into his leg and reached out to wrap her arms around him. Chang Dong couldn’t help but chuckle, “Liuxi, what on earth are you doing?” Ye Liuxi looked up, “Chang Dong, we’ve already settled this. You can rest assured—I’m not someone who changes her mind easily. But I do believe in consistency. So, give me something to mark this moment as a promise.” Chang Dong sensed she was about to go full dramatic: “What do you want?” Ye Liuxi scanned the room, finally settling her gaze on the leg she was holding: “Just this leg…” She extended her hand, pointing to his thigh, then, moved it downward, a little reluctant, “I don’t want much—just cut it off here.” Was this really the way one lost someone—by gradually rendering them helpless? Chang Dong gently took her hand and slowly knelt down. “Why? You’ve carried one leg Yefu Xi looked deeply hurt: "Then just forget it." She buried her head in her knees, sighing deeply. Chang Dong said: "I've actually started to fear you..." He preferred steadiness. Even when he sensed something was building, he liked to proceed step by step—when to speak, when to reach out—never rushing. He believed time was essential to develop depth, just like simmering rice porridge: no one would rush to eat it the moment the rice was added; after all, it's what ends up in one's belly, and the longer it simmers, the more tender, rich, and flavorful it becomes, isn't that better? Yet Yefu Xi had no such rhythm—she constantly disrupted his steady pace. She was like a horse galloping through a field, claiming land, not caring whether it was suitable for building a house, only wanting to secure it first. The more land she couldn't settle on, the more she wanted it. Yefu Xi looked up at him: "If you're afraid of me, are you going to offer me your leg?" Chang Dong asked: "Can I even ask for someone?" Yefu Xi stared at him. The parking lot was utterly quiet The town's guardian river gazes wide-eyed: just now, that woman clung to this man's legs, looking quite exhilarated. It fears missing something even more thrilling.