e of this young aristocrat.

Facing such unrighteousness, Guo Jing could not remain standing by. He gently drew aside the people in front of him and advanced into the open space:

“Ha!” he shouted, “to act like that, that’s not good!”

The young aristocrat, disconcerted for a moment, retorted while laughing;

“Ah yes? How is it necessary to act well?”

His servants, seeing that Guo Jing was clad like a peasant and that he spoke with a marked southern accent, made fun of him. Guo Jing did not understand the mockery, and said seriously, “You should marry this young lady!”

“And if I don’t marry her?”

“If you don’t want to marry her, why did you come down to fight? It was well marked, on the banner, ‘Challenge to find a husband’!”

“What are you interfering for, kid?” retorted the young aristocrat, in a threatening voice.

“This young lady is not only very beautiful, but she has excellent gongfu. Why don’t you want her? Didn’t you see that she felt so offended that she wanted to commit suicide?”

“You’re such a moron that it isn’t worthwhile to explain it to you…”

The young aristocrat turned on his heel. Guo Jing restained him:

“Huh! How can you leave like that?”

“What do you want?”

“Didn’t I tell you to marry this young lady?”

The aristocrat laughed and was about to leave.

Mu Yi, seeing the intervention of Guo Jing, understood that he was generous, but naive and little acquainted with the way of the world. He approached and says to him, “Little brother, don’t worry about him. So long as I have a breath of life, I will find to be avenged for this insult.”

Then he shouted towards the young aristocrat, “At least leave your name!”

“I told you I couldn’t call you ‘father-in-law’,” he retorted insolently, “why do you want to still know my name?”

Very annoyed by this, Guo Jing leaped forward while shouting, “Then return that embroidered laced boot to the young lady!”

“Is that any of your damn business!” the nobleman said furiously. “You’ve taken a fancy to this young miss yourself, have you?”

Guo Jing shook his head and said, “No! Look, are you going to return it, or not?”

The young aristocrat tightened the hand suddenly and slapped Guo Jing heavily. He moved sharply, and employed a qinna technique, seizing, by crossing the hands, the wrists of his adversary. He sought to escape, in vain.

“Do you want to die?” he shouted then, surprised and annoyed, giving a kick towards Guo Jing’s lower belly.

He flexed his muscles and pushed back the young aristocrat towards the open space. Obviously, this person had a good lightness technique (Qinggong), for, instead of falling on his back, he corrected himself and landed on his feet. He nimbly removed his brocaded coat and exclaimed, “You don’t want to continue living, little idiot? If you’ve got guts, come and test yourself against me!”

“Why would I fight with you?” said Guo Jing shaking the head. “Since you do not want to marry with the young lady, return her laced boot!”

The spectators, seeing the intervention of Guo Jing, wanted to see what he was capable of and didn’t think that he would retreat. Some hooligans even hooted, “Talk without action, it’s unworthy of a hero!”

For his part, the young aristocrat, having been caught by Guo Jing, had realized that his gongfu wasn’t insignificant, and especially that he had powerful internal energy. So he was happy not to fight. But, of course, he couldn’t return the laced boot without losing face! He therefore gathered his coat and turned on his heel while laughing. Guo Jing caught him by the side of the coat and repeated, “How can you leave like that?”

The young aristocrat had a sudden idea: he cast his coat over the head of his opponent and struck two fists into his chest. Wrapped up in the coat, Guo Jing could not avoid the impacts. Fortunately, he had practised two years of orthodox neigong with Ma Yu, so that these blows, although extremely painful, could not truly wound him. Pressed by danger, he launched successively, by changing alternate stances, nine fast kicks: it was a skilled technique developed by Han Baoju, which had already enabled him to beat many enemies. Even if the disciple did not have yet the skill of the master, and even if these kicks were made while he was blinded, they disturbed the young aristocrat, who could avoid the first seven, but was caught by the two last fully in his chest.

The two young men simultaneously leapt back. Guo Jing, still amazed, got rid of the coat that hampered him. He could not believe such treachery on behalf of his adversary: “He knew well,” he thought, “that he entered a ‘Challenge to find a husband’, he had won, and yet refused to marry the young lady! Moreover, when I tried to reason with him, not only was it he who struck first, but he used a shameful trick! If I hadn’t practiced neigong well, he would have broken my ribs and crushed my internal organs!” Being of a simple and frank nature, he had always lived with decent people, so that he did not know anything about the perfidy of the human nature. Even though, during the last years, his Masters had not failed to warn him against tricks and treacheries which one might meet in the jianghu, he listened to them like one listens to stories, which could not remain engraved in one’s consciousness as long as they had not been lived oneself. At that moment, he was at the same time furious and perplexed, unable to believe in the existence of such frauds.

The young aristocrat, angered by the two kicks he had received, advanced, his fist raised, on Guo Jing. He parried, but could not face the rain of blows which fell on him, and fell down. The servants were filled with laughter. Their Master puffed out his chest and said while laughing, “Then, you think you can play a deliverer of justice with your three-legged cat technique? Go back home and tell your Shimu to give you lessons for twenty more years!”

Guo Jing got up, breathed in deeply, and circulated his breath in his whole body, so that the pain diminished.

“My Shifu doesn’t have a wife,” he retorted.

“Then tell him to marry one quickly!”

Guo Jing was going to answer: “I have six Shifu, whose wife…” but did not have time. He saw that the other was going to leave, then advanced on him, his fist raised, while shouting, “On guard!”

The young aristocrat dodged, Guo Jing struck a left hook right at his face, the other blocked. They stood, their arms supported upon their adversary’s, each one trying to use internal energy to overcome the other. Guo Jing was a little stronger, his opponent had a better technique, it was difficult to immediately decide between them.

Guo Jing inspired deeply to concentrate its internal energy, while the other loosened its pressure making Guo Jing fall forward. He tried to re-establish his balance when he felt a stroke coming from his back. He hastened to avoid it but, not having a strong basis, he stumbled. While falling, he took support on his elbow and rebounded, while spinning in the air he threw a stroke of his left foot.

Watching this fast and spectacular recovery, the crowd applauds.

The young aristocrat moved away and attacked with two palms, one was a feint to disturb the adversary, while the other was the real stroke. Guo Jing used then the technique “To dissociate the tendons and to dislocate the bones”: his hands fluttered in all senses, aiming the tendons and the joints on the whole body. Seeing the virulence of this attack, the aristocrat changed suddenly of tactic: he also started to use the same technique!

Only, the one learned by Guo Jing had been invented by Zhu Cong, the “Literate to the quick hands”, and diverged from the orthodox technique transmitted by the masters of the central Plains considerably. The two looked alike in their principles, but had some differences in the execution. One threatened with the index and the thumb the point “Food of the old man” behind the wrist, the other tried to pick the joints of the fingers. But the two felt mutual apprehensions and didn’t dare to go all the way, hardly sketching a movement before passing to another. Thus, after forty or so exchanges, they still couldn’t see who had the upper hand.

Snow continued to fall, and a fine white layer covered the head and the shoulders of the spectators that surrounded them.

Suddenly, the young aristocrat seemed to have an opening on his chest.

Guo Jing saw it immediately and tried to benefit from it by pointing his index on the point “Tail of turtledove” of his adversary. But he had some scruples when passing to the action:

“There is no hate between us,” he said to himself, “I can’t use such a deadly stroke on him!” He then deviated his finger and touched another point, what had no effect on his adversary. This one had the whole leisure to catch his wrist and pull him, while making a hook-foot. Guo Jing lost the balance and fell once again.

Mu Yi, whose hands had just been bandaged by his daughter, also watched the two. He saw Guo Jing fall for the third time and understood that he was not of size to face the insolent youngster and he hastened to raise him from the ground:

“Little brother,” he said, “let it go. There’s no point to stay any longer among scoundrels of this kind!”

Guo Jing, that had seen the stars and was hurt already, felt the rage mount on his head.

He moved away from Mu Yi and rushed on his adversary, while increasing in strokes.

The young aristocrat, surprised to see him to insist on it of the sort, in spite of the beating that he had just received, moved back three steps, “Don’t you recognize your defeat?”

Guo Jing didn’t answer and continued to attack.

“If you don’t stop,” threatened the young aristocrat, “I am going to be obliged to kill you!”

“If you don’t return the handkerchief,” retorted Guo Jing, “I will never finish with you!”

“But this girl is not even your sister, why do you persist to want to be my brother-in-law?”

“To be the brother-in-law of someone” constituted an injury on the capital, the scoundrels exploded to laugh while hearing it, but Guo Jing didn’t understand a drop of it.

“I don’t even know her,” he said, “she isn’t my sister!”

The young aristocrat didn’t know anymore if he had to laugh or to be angry:

“Then in guard,” he end up saying. “Stupid!”

The two young people restarted to fight. This time, Guo Jing appeared more prudent, and didn’t fall anymore in the repeated traps that the adversary prepared him. In fact, from a strictly technical viewpoint, the gongfu of the young aristocrat was superior, but Guo Jing never gave up and fought like a barbarian: he had good receive some strokes, he always restarted to the attack with persistence, without renouncing. He had already fought like this when he was small, during the fights with the kids of the Dushi’s gang. Now, he had acquired more agility while learning the martial arts, but his way of fighting didn’t fundamentally change since it was in his nature to fight with savagery, not taking note of the recommendation of his Fourth Shifu: “Unbeatable enemy, flee!” In his mind, the more important formula had always been “Unbeatable enemy, insist!”, except that he didn’t realize it!

The spectacle attracted more and more world, the place was completely cluttered. Wind and snow increased in intensity, but no one left.

Mu Yi, because of his big experience of the Streams and Lakes, knew well that, if the fight continued, the crowds were going to attract the attention of the authorities and maybe provoke their intervention. He knew that it was better to not eternalize themselves there! Only, this young man had come generously to help them, he could not leave him alone here. But he felt very anxious. He raised the eyes and vaguely browsed the assembly, when he noticed, in the crowd, several individuals who seemed to belong to the world of the martial arts. He had been so concentrated on the fight that he had not even realized their arrival.

He moved then slowly, approaching of the servants of the young aristocrat who were held in a corner. Watching them of the corner of his eye, he saw, among them, three characters to the martial look: the first wore a big scarlet bonze dress and a golden cap, it was a very tall Tibetan llama. The second, medium-sized, had silvery white hair but a rubicund and beaming face, to the smooth skin as the one of a baby, without only one wrinkle. He was clothed of a long dress, one didn’t know if it was a Taoist or a bonze. The third was very small, but his blood injected eyes had a piercing look, and he carried a proud small mustache.

The presence of these original faces astonished Mu Yi. He then heard one of the servants to say, “Supreme Virtuous, have the goodness to rid us of this stupid, please! If that continues and that it arrives whatever to the Young Prince’s, us other servants would be good for the gallows!”

Mu Yi shaked hearing it: “Thus,” he thought, “this scoundrel is a young prince! Effectively, if the fight continues, it could happen a misfortune to him. Apparently, all these people are experts belonging to the royal house, that the servants summoned here to lend assistance to the prince.”

The Tibetan llama smiles without saying a word. The old man shouted while laughing, “The Supreme Virtuous Lingzhi is an eminent member of the esoteric school of Tibet, he cannot fall as low as to come to the hands with a rookie of this kind, it would be to disrespectful … And then, if it was to arrive something, the Prince would at most break your legs, he wouldn’t go as far as wiping you out, wouldn’t he?”

“Anyway,” did intervene the small man of the eyes injected of blood, “the Young Prince is stronger than this kid, what do you have to fear?”

He was small, but had a piercing voice. The spectators around them jumped while hearing it and turned around to look at him but, nervous by his menacing look, all lowered the eyes immediately.

“Our Young Prince had such a hard work to learn all this gongfu,” said the silvery old man, “if he can’t even make the a demonstration publicly of it, he would be really frustrated if all these years of efforts were just wasted! If someone takes the liberty to go help him, he will be surely very vexed…”

“Venerable Liang,” says the small man, “according to you to what school the technique of palm of the Young Prince does belong?”

“Brother Peng,” did answer the old man, while laughing, “do you want to put me to the test? The Young Prince has a technique of palm allying agility and complexity, that are indeed difficult to acquire. If I am not mistaken, he should have learned his gongfu with the Taoist of the Absolute Perfection Sect!”

Mu Yi jumped again, “Would this inconsiderate youngster be a disciple of the Absolute Perfection Sect? “

“The Venerable Liang has a remarkable eye,” says the small man. “You spend your life to the foot of the Mountain of the eternal Whiteness and you dedicate yourselves to the meditation and to the alchemical practices. One says that you rarely come in the central Plains, and yet you seem to know by heart the styles of the Chinese schools. I’m very admired of you.”

“Brother Peng is too laudatory,” says the old man while sketching a smile.

“Only,” pursued the small man, “the Taoists of the Absolute Perfection Sect are all of the bizarre and unforeseeable characters. How could they accepted to take the Young Prince for disciple? It is rather astonishing.”

“When the Prince wants to insure the collaboration of someone,” did retort the old man, “do you believe that he doesn’t have the arguments to what he wishes? As yourself, for example, Brother Peng, who dominates the Shandong and the Shanxi, don’t you now make part of the Prince’s house?”

The small man agreed. Their attention was again concentrated on the fight: they noticed that Guo Jing had changed style again, his technique of palm adopted a slower rhythm, but permitted an extremely tight defense. The Young Prince had, repeatedly, searched to attack but had been repulsed by very heavy strokes.

“In your opinion,” asked the old man to the small man, “from where comes the gongfu of this small boy?”

“His gongfu is very mixed,” he answered after one moment of hesitation. “One would say that he had several Shifus…”

“Chief Peng is right,” intervened someone nearby. “This kid is the disciple of the Seven Fanciful of the Jiangnan.”

Mu Yi examined the person who had just taken the word: it was a skinny man with a dark face, with three bumps on the forehead. “He called him of Chief Peng, would this small man therefore be the bandit Peng Lianhu, the Butcher to the one thousand hands, who slaughters without frowning? As for the Seven Fanciful of the Jiangnan, it has been since a long time that I didn’t hear their name anymore, would they still be part of this world?”

During this time, the skinny man with the dark face roars suddenly, “Little brat, I finally found you.”

He drew a steel trident with short-sleeved and bounded in the arena. Hearing the noise behind him, Guo Jing turned around and fell nose to nose with the three bumps on the forehead: it was the Dragon with three heads, Boo Tonghai, the uncle in arms of the Four Demons of the yellow Stream. Surprised and worried, he hesitated, not knowing what to do. The Young Prince took benefit out of this hesitation to hit him on the shoulder, thus making Guo Jing come back to the fight.

Seeing Boo Tonghai to bound in the arena arms to the hand, the spectators believed that he was going to help one of the fighters and, finding this unworthy attitude, began to hoot it.

Mu Yi, that had understood that he was part of the royal house, moved forward, ready to fight him if he intended something against Guo Jing, while being conscious that the enemy was superior in number.

However, Boo Tonghai was not angry at the young man. He sped along directly into the crowd, to the other side, where a young boy, puny, in rags, jumped while seeing him and turned the heels. The Dragon with three heads rushed after him, himself follow-up by four men.

Of the corner of eye, Guo Jing had well seen that it was Huang Rong, the new friend that he had gotten used to since Kalgan, and that Boo Tonghai pursued the weapons to the hand, with the help of the Four Demons of the yellow Stream. Very worried, he throwed a kick and jumped backward:

“A moment!” he exclaimed. “I need to stop for one moment, we will continue our fight later.”

The Young Prince, tired of this fight, had lost all desire to continue and had not asked better to stop:

“If you recognize your defeat,” he sneered, “you can go…”

Preoccupied by his friend’s security, Guo Jing got ready to be going to lend him assistance when he heard noises of step: it was Huang Rong that came back while dragging a worn-out old shoe while laughing, pursued by Boo Tonghai, that called him names and tried to hit him with its trident on the back. But Huang Rong was of an extraordinary agility, and the trident always missed its target of little. The young boy adroitly slipped through the crowd and had already come out again on the other side.

When Hou Tonghai came nearer, one could notice black marks of two palms on his cheeks: obviously, the fragile boy had managed to slap him twice. Hou Tonghai hustled everyone, managing to find a path through the crowd, but Huang Rong was already far. Hou Tonghai stopped and maliciously made gestures to show Huang Rong what he had in mind.

“If I don’t succeed in catching and slicing you up,” howled Hou Tonghai insane with rage, “I don’t want to be called a man anymore!”

Huang Rong waited until Hou Tonghai came nearer before fleeing again. Everyone bursted out laughing, in the meantime three breathless men arrived, they were the three Demons of the Yellow River, the only one missing was Qian Qingjian, known as Killing-axe.

Seeing such a spectacle, Guo Jing was surprised and pleased at the same time: “Thus,” he thought, “this friend of mine must have excellent gongfu. The other day, in the Black Pine Woods, it must be him who had lured Hou Tonghai away and hung the Four Demons of the Yellow River on the trees!”

The surprise was not less in the opposite camp.

Supreme Virtue Lingzhi asked, “Ginseng Immortal, that little beggar has a remarkable agility, to which school does he belong? Apparently, Brother Hou has lost the skirmish…”

The white-haired Master of the EternalWhitePeak, was called Liang Ziwong. Since his youth, he had consumed natural ginseng and other remedies, which had protected him from attacks of old age. He didn’t recognize the gongfu of the little beggar and shook his head. Then, after a moment, he said:

“When I am way beyond the Pass (Yan Men Guan?), I often heard claims that the Dragon King of the demonic group was a frightening expert, who would have thought that his apprentice brother was such a pitiful figure, at the point of not being able to handle a mere child?”

The small man was Peng Lianhu. He frowned without really answering. He was a great friend of the Dragon King of the demonic group, with whom he often collaborated, assisting on robbing raids. He knew the gongfu of Hou Tonghai, which was not bad, but he couldn’t explain how Hou Tonghai could be ridiculed that easily.

The diversion with Huang Rong and Hou Tonghai thus stopped the duel between Guo Jing and the young Prince. The latter had clearly an edge on Guo Jing, since he succeeded several times to make his adversary fall, but he himself had to receive a multitude of blows and felt tired out. He wiped up the sweat which ran abundantly on his face with a scarf wound as a belt.

Mu Yi, who had rearranged the brocade banner, held the hand of Guo Jing, thanking him warmly and urging him to leave the place. Suddenly, a pitter-patter was heard: Huang Rong and Hou Tonghai returned running, one chasing the other. The former held two pieces of fabric, two pieces which were missing precisely on the tunic of the latter, the torn tunic exposed a hairy chest. A little later, Wu Qinglie and My Qingxiong appeared, weapons in their hands, following arduously and breathless. Missing was the one called Shen Qinggang, whom Huang Rong apparently managed to dispose of in some mysterious way. The commotion provoked laughter and jibes among the audience.

Suddenly, one heard shouts from the West: several tens of soldiers, wicker rods in their hands, shouted and struck the onlookers to open the way for a large red and golden palanquin carried by six musclemen.

“It is the Princess,” exclaimed the servants of the young Prince.

“Which idiot has the insolence to inform my mother?” the latter thundered frowningly. The servants, who did not dare to answer, hastened to approach the palanquin which halted at an emptied spot.

“You’ve fought again?” a soft female-intonated voice was heard from the inside.

“It has been snowing and you don’t have your coat on, you will certainly catch a cold…”

Upon hearing that voice from a distance, Mu Yi seemed to be struck by lightning: “How is this possible?” he thought dumbfoundedly. “That voice resembles hers so much! But it’s impossible, she is a Jin princess … I believe I’ve thought too much of my wife and I’ve become crazy …” Despite everything, he could not stop himself from nearing the palanquin.

He saw a dainty hand with a handkerchief appearing from inside the palanquin and tenderly wiped up the sweat on the face of the young nobleman, who listened to the words pronounced in a low voice, undoubtedly of reproach and admonition …

“But mom,” the Young Prince said, “I have fun, all is well …”

“Put your coat on quickly,” the Princess said, “and let us go home …”

“How could two voices be that similar?”, Mu Yi was still astonished. He saw the white hand disappearing behind a silk curtain on which peonies were embroidered in gold wire. He tried to peer in but his glance failed to penetrate the bright curtain.

One of the servants collected the brocade coat of his Master and bawled at Guo Jing:

“Animal! Look, what a state you’ve put this coat in!” One of the soldiers who came with the Princess raised his wicker rod and violently bashed down on Guo Jing’s head. Guo Jing dodged, seized the wrist of his attacker, took the rod away, tripped him up: the man fell on the ground. Guo Jing then whipped him with the rod:

“You dare to strike wrongly and rampantly?” he shouted. The crowd, some of whom had received blows from the rod, applauded with appreciation. The other soldiers shoutingly hastened to the rescue of their companion, but Guo Jing took them by pairs and threw them away.

“You are still bragging?” the young Prince shouted. He leapt to Guo Jing and both exchanged blows again. The Princess shouted to stop, but the son did not seem to fear his mother, on the contrary:

“Look at me, mom,” he exclaimed. “This bloody peasant is doing wicked things in the capital! If he is not taught a good lesson, he wouldn’t respect his old man!”

He wanted to exhibit his best performance, he redoubled his efforts: Guo Jing, not being able to parry his nimble and fast palm, was struck by several blows and stumbled twice.

Mu Yi, for his part, was magnetized by the palanquin. A corner of the curtain had been drawn, he saw two gracious eyes appearing, some hair strands, a part of the face of a mother, full of tender worry regarding her son. Mu Yi remained petrified.

Guo Jing had changed for the better, but was confronted with an adversary with renewed vigour. The young Prince sought to execute mortal blows, hoping to injure his adversary seriously, in order to definitively put an end to the combat.

But Guo Jing had a thick skin, and a good basis of neigong, so that he was able to endure many blows. Moreover, the technique of the prince did certainly miss sophistication, his power was limited because of his youth and lack of experience. He tried on several occasions to grab Guo Jing with ten fingers forming claws, using the technique which had enabled him to injure Mu Yi, but the disciple of the Six Freaks defended himself using the technique “to detach tendons and disjoint bones”.

As the brawl climaxed, one still could see Huang Rong and Hou Tonghai run one behind the other. This time, the latter carried a long straw in his hair. Usually, it was a sign indicating the setting on sale of something. A bit of straw on a head thus meant that the head was to be sold. Obviously a joke of Huang Rong, of which Hou Tonghai was not aware of, occupied he was in chasing! The remaining two Demons of the Yellow River had also disappeared, obviously dispersed in some way …

Liang Ziwong and his companions lost themselves in racking their brains about the identity of Huang Rong. They saw Hou Tonghai run really swift, but he never managed to catch up with the boy in rags.

“This kid, would he be a member of the Beggar Clan?” Peng Lianhu asked suddenly.

The Beggar Clan was at that time the most powerful secret society in the realm of JiangHu (Rivers and Lakes). Liang Ziwong twitched, but didn’t answer.

The two young people attacked each other swiftlier, with increasing strength. Sometimes Guo Jing received a palm blow on his shoulder, sometimes the prince got a kick on his thigh. They fought really body against body, raging and panting. Even a beginner could see that the fight became increasingly dangerous, the least distraction could cause a fatal injury. Peng Lianhu and Liang Ziwong prepared their invisible projectiles covertly, in order to intervene when necessary: Guo Jing was a very obstinate person, his gongfu was not yet up to par, and the two experts persuaded themselves to be able to control the situation in time.

In fact, Guo Jing’s development was difficult to reproduce: having grown in the desert, he had undergone all rigours, had experienced and was hardened through numerous battles. The Prince on the other hand, had always lived in luxury, no wonder, in this utterly brutal and merciless carried endurance battle, he began stumbling into lapses of fatigue. Suddenly, Guo Jing uttered a great cry, seized his adversary by the collar, raised him high and violently threw him to the ground. It was neither the technique “to detach tendons and disjoint bones” nor the qin-na, but a unique Mongolian technique that Jebe, his teacher, had taught him.

The Prince reacted promptly, jumping up as soon as he touched the ground, seizing the legs of Guo Jing and they both fell. He got up quickly, tore from the hands of a soldier a long lance and thrusted towards Guo Jing’s stomach. Guo Jing rolled to the side, whereas the other continued handling the long lance with dexterity. Guo Jing wanted to grab the lance with the stance “to seize a blade with naked hands”, but in vain!

“My son,” exclaimed the Princess, “do not injure him! Be satisfied with winning!”

However, the Prince, who seemed really eager to nail Guo Jing down, turned a deaf ear.

Guo Jing, seeing the gleaming tip of the lance a few inches from his nose, parried with his arm, something collapsed behind him, he seized the brocade banner of Mu Yi. With the stance “To draw aside the clouds to peer at the sun”, he used the pole like a long stick to counter the circling lance.

Both fighters armed from now on, Guo Jing employed the techniques of the “Exorcizing cane” taught by his First Shifu. In spite of the length of the pole, which obstructed him a little, he could deploy all subtleties of this art, methodically developed by Ke Zhen’E in order to counter Mei Chaofeng. Each movement comprised of variants, often unexpected, always effective. Surprised by the ability of that weapon, the Prince was forced into defence. But his dexterity with the lance was also impressive.

As Mu Yi saw the Prince handling that weapon, he grew astonished: indeed, all its stances corresponded with the lance style of the Yang family. This technique, which was only handed down from father to son, could rarely be seen even in the South, he was really astonished seeing it now in the capital of Jin.