Peking Opera Cat: I Became A Zi's Brother

As soon as the day broke, the wind and sand blew gravel onto the flags in the martial arts field, making the golden thread of the Chinese character "武" rustle.

Wu Song stepped barefoot on the bluestone slabs, and the stones hurt his feet, but he did not frown as usual - his attention was all on the fire stick in his palm. The golden and red fire pattern flowed on the stick, but it was weaker than yesterday, and even his heart felt heavy.

"You didn't suppress Huo Yun again?"

The old clan leader's voice came from the stands. The copper pipe in his hand glowed red, and the patina on the pipe was bright and warm in the morning light.

"Yesterday evening, you tried 'Hell of Fire Blast'. The pillar of fire collapsed just as it reached a height of ten feet. If I hadn't stopped it with 'Sinking Sand Technique', you would have burned the old locust tree in the martial arts arena."

Wu Song thrust the firewood stick into the ground. As sand flew up, he bent down, picked up a smooth pebble, and held it in his hand.

"My meridians felt like they were being strangled by red-hot iron bars. As soon as I gathered the fire energy in my dantian, it rushed out to my limbs. I couldn't control it at all."

He spread out his other hand, and there was still a red mark on his palm from the fire when he lost control yesterday.

"Da Fei wrote in a letter that his back went numb when he practiced 'Thousand-Jun Collapse,' but I felt pain. It really hurt."

The old clan leader walked down from the stands, tapped his pipe against the stone lion's head, and the ashes fell onto the bluestone slabs:

"Your fire rhythm is fierce, and 'Hellfire Blast' pushes that intensity to the extreme. But your meridians are like a thin porcelain bowl, how can it hold boiling oil? The Da Zong's 'Sand Burning Meridian Tempering Technique' turns a fine porcelain bowl into a coarse earthenware jar. You'll need to be patient."

He pointed to the sand dunes east of the martial arts arena, where more than a dozen sandbags were piled. The sand peeking out from the bags was a dark yellow hue.

"This contains a mixture of 'Sinking Sand Powder' and 'Burning Heart Grass'. Carry the sandbag and walk back and forth across the dunes three hundred times every day. Let the wind and sand, carrying the medicinal properties, seep into your skin. Then use the fire energy in your body to slowly refine it. Remember, practice the 'Sinking Qi Method' as you walk, allowing the fire energy to flow through your meridians. Don't rush in like you did before."

Wu Song glanced at the sandbags. Each one was half his height, and when stacked together, they would reach his chest.

"Three hundred round trips? This sand dune is so high it could bury me. I'd have to fall down after fifty round trips."

"Get down and get up."

The old leader put his pipe on his waist and patted his shoulder.

"When your father practiced this meridian-hardening technique, his shoulder was rubbed raw by a sandbag, and he kept walking even though it was bleeding. He eventually trained his meridians to be able to withstand the 'Purgatory Fire'. You are his son, and Wu Song of the Xingluo class. Can't you endure this little hardship?"

These words struck a chord with Wu Song. He recalled the night before when the fire from the fire stick had nearly caught fire on the old locust tree. That tree looked a lot like the banana tree in the mountain behind Shen Zong—the same banana leaves that had wilted in the rain when Mo Yun was burying sugar. But now, he didn't even have the energy to protect a tree, let alone Xiaoqing, Dafei, or his fellow Xingluo Squad members.

"I'll practice."

Wu Song bent down and picked up two sandbags. The weight of the sandbags instantly pressed on his shoulders and neck, like a small mountain falling down. He stumbled for a moment before he could stand firm.

"But you have to promise that after practicing this, I can use 'Hellfire Blast' to protect people and never lose control again."

The old patriarch smiled and turned to walk towards the stands:

"If you can hold on, not only can you protect others, you might even be able to burn through the black energy of chaos."

Wu Song gritted his teeth and walked towards the sand dunes.

The sand seeped into the spaces between my toes, causing the soles of my feet to ache. With every step I took, the weight of the sandbag pressed into my bones. The skin on my shoulders and neck was rubbed red by the coarse cloth and was oozing with sweat.

He had only taken twenty steps when a burning pain came over him, as if a pair of tongs were pinching his heart. He groaned, and the sweat on his forehead fell to the sand and was instantly absorbed.

He stopped, holding his knees and breathing heavily, but he didn't dare put down the sandbag - the old patriarch had taught that if you put it down while tempering your meridians, the effect of the medicine will be interrupted, and all the suffering you have endured will be in vain.

He remembered what Da Fei had written in his letter: "It rains non-stop in Chang Zong. I make Qing He Yang Mai Soup every day, and it tastes bitter in my mouth. But when I think about going to Da Zong to find you sooner, it's worth it."

Wu Song curled his lips, lifted the sandbag, and continued to move forward.

The wind wrapped in sand hit his face like a knife, but he opened his eyes wide and let the wind and sand penetrate into his body through his pores - the old patriarch taught him that this would allow the medicinal properties of "Chensha San" to penetrate into his skin faster.

When the medicinal properties touched the fire in his body, it was like being pricked by countless small fire needles, causing him to tremble with pain all over, but the burning pain in his heart actually eased a little.

By the time he had walked the hundredth time, Wu Song's shoulders had been rubbed raw, and the rough cloth soaked in blood was sticking to his body, making him extremely uncomfortable.

He put the sandbag on the sand dune, slumped down on the sand, and took out the small cloth bag embroidered with white lotus from his arms. The candied dates inside were still warm - Xiaoqing had stuffed them in his hands and said, "Candied dates can replenish qi and blood. If you practice hard, eat a few more."

He picked up a candied date and put it in his mouth. The sweetness slid down his throat. He suddenly remembered that Bai Tang always used to snatch his roasted fish. If she couldn't get it, she would cling to his arm and shake him:

"Wusong, Wusong, if you're tired, take a break. I'll get you some water."

At that time, he always felt annoyed by Bai Tang, but now, he really hoped that guy would make more noise and snatch his grilled dried fish again.

"Can't rest."

Wu Song spat the candied date pits onto the sand and picked up the sandbag again.

"Xingluoban is still waiting for me, and Baitang is still waiting for me to tell him that I can protect everyone."

In the wind, his footsteps echoed on the sand dunes, and step by step, it seemed as if he was carving the word "become stronger" into his bones.

……

It rained in Changzong for three whole days. The dense rain soaked the entire sect in dampness. The accumulated water on the green tiles dripped down along the eaves, hitting the bluestone slabs in the kitchen, splashing tiny water droplets.

Dafei sat on a small stool with a warm medicine cake against his back. The aroma of the medicine mixed with the bitter taste of "Qinghe Yangmai Soup" filled the entire room.

"Master, how long do I have to apply this medicine cake?"

Da Fei rubbed his shoulders. When he was practicing "Thousand-pound Collapse" yesterday, his old back injury recurred. Now he even had difficulty lifting his arms.

"I've been using it for so long that I can barely feel my back anymore."

Master Chang Zong, who was adding herbs to the clay pot, turned around and stirred the pot with the wooden spoon in his hand, causing ripples to appear in the brown medicinal soup:

"This old injury of yours is the root of the chaotic black energy. 'Thousand-pound Collapse' has pushed the 'heavy' of the sound to its extreme. Your meridians are like water-soaked wood; how can they withstand a heavy hammer? You need to apply this 'Bone Softening Pill' for a full month, combined with 'Green Grass Nourishing Veins Soup' and 'Calming Gong' to strengthen your meridians."

Da Fei sighed, picked up the gong hammer on his leg, and gently tapped the gong on his waist.

"Dang——" With a light sound, the golden sound spread along the surface of the gong, wrapping around the back like warm water.

He followed the method taught by his master, closed his eyes, and let the sound flow slowly along the meridians. Whenever he encountered an old injury, he would stop and gently "rub" it - this is the secret of the "Jing Xin Luo" method, which does not use brute force to drive away the pain, but uses sound and rhythm to "speak" with the body.

"The day before yesterday, you tried 'Thousand-pound Collapse' and raised the rhyme to 80%. What was the result?"

The master covered the earthenware jar and sat on the threshold next to Dafei, looking at the rain and fog outside.

"Is it because of the pain in your back that your voice and rhythm became messed up and you almost hurt yourself?"

Da Fei nodded, with a look of annoyance on his face:

"I just wanted to try out the power of my new move, but I didn't expect..."

He recalled the scene of that day. When the golden sound erupted from the ground, his back felt like being crushed by a huge rock. His eyes went dark and the gong hammer fell to the ground. If his master had not used the sound to support him in time, he would have fallen on the bluestone slabs of the martial arts field.

"If there were enemies at that time, I would definitely not be able to protect the people around me, just like I failed to protect Haipiao during the decisive battle."

The master patted his shoulder and said in a gentle voice:

"You, child, always take the blame on yourself. Rhythm emphasizes harmony. 'Thousand-pound Collapse' may seem fierce, but it's actually about 'using softness to overcome hardness'. Use the 'heavy' of the rhyme to crush the enemy, and the 'softness' of the rhyme to protect yourself. Your problem now is that your body can't keep up with the rhythm of the rhyme. You have to take your time, don't rush."

Dafei opened his eyes and the pain in his back was indeed relieved.

He stood up, walked to the stove, opened the lid of the pot, and the candied date porridge inside was still steaming - this was reserved for Wu Song. He specially added a few more candied dates so that when Wu Song came to sing the sect, he would have more energy to practice martial arts while drinking the hot porridge.

"Master, you said Wu Song is fighting against the clan now. Is he also practicing the method of tempering the body?"

Da Fei stirred the porridge with a wooden spoon, and thought of Wu Song's temper, and couldn't help laughing.

"That guy must be extremely anxious. He might be running on the dunes carrying a sandbag heavier than himself."

The master also laughed:

"I know about Da Zong's 'Burning Sand and Tempering Meridians Technique'. It's a tough job, grinding your muscles and bones, and refining your meridians. You can't persevere without some perseverance. But Wu Song is a stubborn kid. He won't give up on something he's determined to do. He's sure he can master it."

Da Fei served the porridge, placed it on the stove, and added some water to the earthenware jar - the "Qinghe Yangmai Soup" had to be simmered for two hours before the medicinal properties could be released.

He remembered the little disciples surrounding him yesterday, chattering and asking:

"Brother Dafei, when will Brother Wusong come? We want to hear his stories about the Xingluo Squad and teach us how to bake pancakes using the Fire Rhythm technique."

At that time he smiled and said:

"It's almost time. When Brother Wusong gets stronger, he'll come to Changzong. Then he'll teach you how to bake pancakes with the Fire Rhythm technique, and I'll make you candied date porridge, okay?"

The little disciples cheered and agreed, their eyes shining like stars, just like Bai Tang in the past - every time he heard about something delicious, Bai Tang's eyes would also shine like this, and his tail would even stroke his wrist to make it itchy.

"If Bai Tang were here, he would definitely urge me to exercise."

Da Fei said softly, wrapped the porridge in a cloth and put it in his arms.

"He would squat beside me, watching me make the medicine, and would rush to help me beat the gong, saying, 'Da Fei, Da Fei, get well soon. I'm looking forward to eating the three-layer meat pancakes you make.'"

The master looked at him and sighed softly:

"That child is a good kid, and he cares about everyone. You're training now to fulfill his wish, for the Xingluo Squad, right?"

Dafei nodded, picked up the gong hammer again, and started striking the "Meditation Gong".

The golden rhythm flowed in the kitchen, mixed with the aroma of medicine and porridge, as gentle as the singing rain.

He closed his eyes, feeling the sound seeping into the meridians in his back bit by bit, as if slowly dissolving the blocked cold air - he knew that although the days of recuperation and physical strengthening were slow, as long as he persisted, one day, his back would be able to withstand the full force of "Thousand-pound Collapse", and he would be able to stand steadily beside his companions together with Wu Song.

The rain was still falling, and the raindrops left streaks of water on the window paper of the kitchen.

Da Fei's hand on the gong became more and more steady, and the rhythm of the sound flowed along the gong surface, as if whispering to his meridians. He remembered what Wu Song had written in the letter:

"Once I've strengthened my meridians, I'll go find you in Changzong. Then we'll practice 'Inferno Blast' and 'Thousand-Force Collapse' together. I'm sure these two new moves will become a powerful force to protect everyone."

"I am waiting."

Da Fei said softly, with a smile on his face.

"When you come, I'll make you the most delicious flatbread with three layers of meat and double the sauce. I'll also give you a bowl of hot candied date porridge with five candied dates in it. It's very sweet."

The fire in the stove was still going out, and the "Qinghe Yangmai Soup" in the earthenware pot was bubbling, as if beating the rhythm for his persistence.

More than ten days later, the sandstorm in Dazong had died down a bit. On the sand dunes of the martial arts training ground, Wu Song carried three sandbags and walked steadily on the top of the slope.

His shoulders and neck no longer bled, and the fire pattern on his palm was much brighter than before. The golden-red flame flowed at the tip of the stick, no longer as chaotic as before.

"Not bad. Today I was able to carry three sandbags and walk back and forth three hundred times."

The old sect leader stood at the foot of the sand dune, smoke billowing from his pipe. "Practice for another half a month, and your meridians will be able to withstand 80% of the force of 'Inferno Blast'. When combined with Da Fei's vocal rhythm, the power will be doubled."

Wu Song put down the sandbag, wiped the sweat from his forehead, and took out the new letter sent by Dafei yesterday from his arms.

The handwriting on the letter was a little crooked. It seemed that Dafei's back hurt again when he wrote it:

"Wusong, I've almost finished practicing the 'Calming Gong,' and my old back injury has healed much better. Yesterday, I tried 'Thousand-pound Collapse' at 60% strength, and it didn't fail. The rain has stopped in Changzong, so I baked some bread, wrapped it in cloth, and sent it to you by messenger. You've practiced hard, so eat more."

Wu Song held the letter in his hand, and couldn't help but raise the corners of his mouth.

He thought of the pancakes made by Dafei, which were crispy on the outside and tender on the inside, and full of meaty aroma when he took a bite. When he was in Xingluo Class, he always loved to fight with Baitang for them, and he could eat two or three every time.

Now, he could finally imagine Da Fei smiling and handing him a pancake when they met, and he could imagine them practicing new moves together and becoming stronger together.

"Master, I want to go to the singing sect early."

Wu Song put the letter into his arms, picked up the fire stick, and urged the fire rhythm to 50%. The golden red flame flowed on the stick, steadily without losing control.

"I want to practice 'Inferno Blast' and 'Thousand-Force Collapse' with Dafei. I want to go to Dongqiang Town early to find Xiaoqing and Moyun, and... Baitang."

The old leader nodded and knocked his pipe on the stone lion's head:

"Practice for another ten days, complete the final step of the 'Burning Sand and Tempering Meridians Technique,' and then you can go. Remember, no matter what, never use brute force to push through. Your body is your foundation, and only with a solid foundation can you go further."

Wu Song nodded heavily, picked up the sandbag and walked down the dune.

In the wind, he seemed to hear the sound of Da Fei beating a gong. The golden sound mixed with his fiery rhythm, resonating in the air, like the bond of the Xingluo class, which had never been broken.

At the same time, in Chang Zong's kitchen, Da Fei was putting the baked cakes into a cloth bag. The master came over and handed him a porcelain bottle:

"This is a 'Soft Sound Pill'. Take it with you. If your back hurts when practicing 'Thousand-Force Collapse', take one. It will relieve the pain."

Da Fei took the porcelain bottle, put it in his arms, and added a few candied dates to the cloth bag:

"Thank you, Master. I'll come back to see you after I finish practicing the new moves with Wu Song."

The master smiled and patted his shoulder:

"Go ahead, the kids from Xingluo Class should all be together."

Dafei picked up the cloth bag and walked out of the kitchen.

The rain has stopped, and the sunlight shines through the clouds, illuminating the distant mountains, as if they were covered with a layer of golden gauze.

He touched the gong at his waist, and the golden sound danced gently on his fingertips - he knew that Wu Song was waiting for him in Da Zong, Xiao Qing and Mo Yun were waiting for him in Shen Zong, Bai Tang was waiting for him in Dongqiang Town, and the journey of Xingluo Ban continued.

The rhythm of fire in the wind and sand, and the rhythm of sound in the rain and fog will eventually meet one day, condense into the most powerful force, protect the loved ones, and go to further places.

And those days of tempering the body, those times of boiling medicine and carrying sandbags will become the marks of their growth, engraved in the story of Xingluo Class, and will never fade.