Chapter 17: The Way of the Tiger and Wolf

Two days later, in the forge at the back mountain of the Minzhi clan.

“Huff—”

White Crane stood shirtless, his upper body, though aged, still rippling with explosive muscles. In his hand, he gripped a massive hammer thicker than his own arm, each swing accompanied by the roar of thunder and wind.

“Bang! Bang! Bang!”

Sparks flew in all directions, illuminating his focused and earnest face. Before him lay several short daggers, three inches long, forged from refined Star Iron, their edges sharp and gleaming with a faint ethereal light.

White Chenxiang sat nearby, holding blueprints, occasionally offering her suggestions for modifications.

“Grandpa, the connecting latch here needs to be more precise. I need it to deploy and retract silently,” she said.

“And this angle should be slightly inclined to maximize the impact transfer when striking the target instead of bouncing off.”

She resembled the most exacting client, while the venerable clan leader of the White Crane tribe played the dedicated craftsman, patiently fulfilling her every demand.

After two full days and nights of hammering and fine-tuning, a brand-new weighted bracer emerged—a masterpiece that perfectly fused artistry and lethality.

Its core remained Star Iron, now weighing ten pounds more than before.

On the bracer’s front were four subtle grooves.

With a thought and a slight release of soul power, a soft “click” sounded as four short ethereal daggers silently slid out from the grooves, precisely covering the joints of her four fingers.

Clenching her fist, the blades felt as if they had grown from her own bones, fitting her hand flawlessly.

A heavy and sharp sensation surged from the fist to her very core.

She stepped to a nearby granite slab, a foot thick, used for hardness testing. Without a running start or any buildup, she simply took a step forward.

“Wind Flash Step!”

Her figure vanished instantly.

The next moment, she was back in place, as if she had never moved.

Yet the granite slab, after a brief pause, began to spiderweb with fine cracks where her fist had struck.

“Crack… shatter…”

Under the shocked gazes of the elders, the entire slab crumbled into powder.

White Chenxiang retracted her fist, inspecting the flawless ethereal daggers, and nodded in satisfaction.

The next day, the clan gate leading outside was unusually solemn.

White Crane wore sturdy travel clothes and carried a huge pack on his back, looking less like a respected clan leader and more like an old mercenary about to embark on a journey.

Beside him, White Chenxiang bore a backpack wildly disproportionate to her slight frame, stuffed with high-energy jerky, water, and essential medicinal herbs.

She wore the ninety-pound weighted Star Iron bracer once again.

“Big Brother, maybe I should go with you guys?” Elder White Mountain asked for the fifth time, his dark circles so deep they looked like soot stains.

He had been too worried about White Chenxiang’s journey to get much sleep over the past two days.

“Yes, Chief, more people means better support,” stout Elder White Stone added, holding a food container with a reluctant expression.

“I just roasted some honey-glazed Wind-Chasing rabbit legs for Xiangxiang to snack on the road.”

“And I have these—knee pads sewn with millennium snow silk. They’re warm and protective!”

Watching the elders who seemed desperate to pack up the entire clan for their granddaughter, White Crane’s forehead twitched, and with an exasperated wave, he declared:

“Enough! Are you here to see us off or to mourn? Why the long faces?”

He snatched the food container from White Stone and roughly stuffed it into his already bulging pack, mumbling:

“Hmm, this is good. I’ll eat it if I get hungry. You old folks just stay put and guard the home.”

“If anyone dares to sneak after me, I’ll break their legs on return!”

Half in jest, half earnest, his words finally dispelled much of the sorrow.

White Chenxiang stepped before the elders and bowed deeply.

No words were spoken, but the solemnity was felt by all.

“All right, it’s getting late. Let’s set off.”

White Crane patted his granddaughter’s shoulder and led the way.

The pair, one large, one small, soon vanished at the mountain path’s end, leaving four elders standing in the morning mist, their expressions complex.

“Sigh, do you think Big Brother is reliable?” Elder White Stone asked quietly.

Elder White Mountain fell silent for a moment, recalling a few days ago in the forge where the chief hummed off-key tunes while hammering and was completely at his granddaughter’s command.

He sighed deeply.

“Let’s hope so. Now, I just wish the soul beasts in Sunset Forest are more reliable than our Big Brother.”

…

The Minzhi clan’s home was far from Sunset Forest, even at White Crane’s pace, requiring several days of travel.

White Chenxiang had thought the journey would be dull, but she soon realized she had been naïve.

Her grandfather had no intention of letting her arrive quietly.

“Xiangxiang, do you see that crooked-necked pine up ahead?” White Crane pointed to a solitary pine atop a distant ridge the afternoon after they left the clan.

“I see it,” White Chenxiang nodded.

“From now on, we won’t take the usual path.”

White Crane grinned, revealing a set of teeth glistening in the sun.

“The rule is simple: I take the ridge, you go through the valley.”

“We meet under that tree in one hour.”

“If anyone’s late, they only get dry rations for dinner.”

Without waiting for a response, his figure flickered like a wisp of smoke and disappeared along the rugged ridge.

White Chenxiang glanced down at the rocky, brush-filled valley, her lips twitching.

The ridge, though steep, offered broad and clear views.

The valley, on the other hand, was tangled with thorns and unpredictable terrain, harboring who knows what snakes and vermin.

This wasn’t a competition; it was outright bullying.

She said nothing, simply steadying her breath and tightening her pack’s straps.

The ninety-pound load made each step feel like climbing a mountain.

But after hellish training, she had begun to master how to apply her strength most efficiently under such burdens.

She didn’t try to force her way but closed her eyes, immersing her mind in the surrounding wind.

“Wind Whisper Perception.”

The wind swept through the valley, carrying countless fragmented messages.

Thirty meters to the left front, a patch of thorny vines barred passage.

Fifty meters to the right front, a mossy stone slick with damp air swirled the currents.

Farther off, a faint, fishy breeze hinted at a wild beast’s lair.

A three-dimensional map of wind patterns slowly unfolded in her mind.

Opening her eyes, she stepped forward without hesitation.

Her pace was slow, almost deliberate.

Each movement carried purpose.

She slipped sideways through a gap between two massive stones, ducked low to roll under hanging vines, then suddenly burst forward over a concealed stream hidden in the grass.

Like a precise instrument, she charted the most effortless and safest route through the complex terrain.

An hour later, breathless and covered in grass shards and a fresh cut on her cheek, she climbed the ridge.

Waiting was her grandfather, casually leaning against the tree, chewing on a blade of grass and holding a golden, juicy roasted rabbit.

“Well, you’re here,” White Crane glanced at her and deliberately waved the rabbit in front of her.

“Too bad, you’re about a burning incense stick late. According to the rules, this one’s mine.”

White Chenxiang looked at the fragrant rabbit then at the hard jerky in her pack, her face falling.

“Grandpa, you cheated.”

She protested unhappily.

“You took a straight path, while mine wound and twisted, at least twice as far!”

“War is the art of deception,” White Crane said, tearing off a plump rabbit leg and taking a big bite, his mouth muffling the words.

“Enemies don’t play fair on the battlefield.”

“If you can achieve your goal in the simplest way, why choose complexity?”

Seeing her pout, he smiled but continued teaching.

“And besides, I’m teaching you. Your Wind Whisper ability is good, letting you avoid danger and seek advantage.”

“But sometimes, absolute speed crushes all technique.”

“Like now,” he pointed to himself, then to her.

“My path is the way of the tiger and wolf—domineering and direct.”

“Yours is the way of the fox and hare—cunning and circuitous.”

“Today, the tiger and wolf win.”

White Chenxiang was silent.

She knew her grandfather was right but still felt defiant.

Seeing her stubborn look, White Crane softened, chuckled, and handed her the other rabbit leg.

“But rules are rigid; people are flexible.”

“Since you did pretty well today, consider this a reward.”

Her eyes lit up, ignoring the dirt on her face, she snatched the leg and bit deeply.

Mmm, delicious.