Chapter Eight: Inch Force

Zhou Qian was eager to visit She Mountain, but Wang Hu frowned and said, "She Mountain is crawling with tigers and wolves, and the terrain is labyrinthine. Last time, the three of us barely made it out alive—thanks only to the mercy of the gods above. Don't risk your life for a single medicinal herb; it's not worth it. If you truly insist on going, let me ask the master for a few days off and accompany you."

Zhou Qian knew Wang Hu spoke sense, but in his heart, he was resolved. 'This is a task my master entrusted to me, and it's for my own sake. If I fail, how could I face him? Wang Hu is righteous, but how can I let him take such a risk for me?' His determination only grew stronger, yet when he spoke, he uttered the first lie of his life: "You're right, Brother Wang, it's really not worth it. Perhaps the pharmacy manager will secure Leopard Tail Grass in a few days."

Wang Hu was relieved. "Dog Brother, that's wise thinking. You've apprenticed yourself to the esteemed Elder Zhou—your future is bright. There's no need to risk your life over such a trifling matter. Besides, you can wait until Elder Zhou returns and tell him the location of the Leopard Tail Grass. With his abilities, entering She Mountain is nothing."

Zhou Qian nodded in agreement, just as he was about to speak, Liu Ba, nicknamed 'Tiger,' stormed in and addressed Wang Hu, "How's your hand injury, brat? Did you whine to your Dog Brother about me training you too harshly?"

Wang Hu smiled wryly. "Master, how would I dare? You're only doing what's best for me!"

Liu Ba chuckled. "Glad you understand. Back in the day, I complained about the old man too, but when the horse bandits attacked the grain convoy we were guarding, they charged, flashing dozens of blades. In an instant, they carried off a score of heads, blood spraying like fountains. I was so terrified I nearly pissed myself. Right then, I sincerely thanked the old man for drilling us so hard—it saved my damn life."

Wang Hu sighed. "Godfather, you've told this story at least a dozen times. Ask Third Brother."

Zhou Qian nodded, sharing the sentiment.

"You two kids don't know a thing! Repetition makes memory—that's what the old man always said."

"How's your Iron Sand Palm coming along? How many times have you changed the sand?" Liu Ba asked.

"It's already the sixth batch," Wang Hu replied.

Liu Ba examined Wang Hu's hands—rough, powerful, with large joints tinged faintly with a dark blue. Satisfied, he said, "Good work. It's time to pass down our family's secret techniques. Come with me to the training ground. Since you and Dog Brother are brothers, there's no need for formality—he should learn a few moves as well."

The three returned to the training yard. Liu Ba said, "The Iron Sand Palm is our family’s martial art. I've taught you the forms—now perform them for me."

Wang Hu dropped into a horse stance, exhaled forcefully, and his hands flew. The Iron Sand Palm comprised eight movements, each ruthless and aimed at vital points—the heart, the ribs—each move pressed with a killing intent. Wang Hu executed the set with precision and vigor; though he had once been defeated in a single move by the Old Shade, that opponent was a famed master for thirty years. Against ordinary men, this palm technique could handle seven or eight attackers with ease. When finished, beads of sweat were already visible on Wang Hu's brow.

Liu Ba frowned. "Did your ten toes grip the ground throughout?"

"When I used the move 'Black Tiger Descends the Ravine,' with both palms chopping downward, my force was too strong and I couldn't hold it—I always get it wrong," Wang Hu admitted honestly.

"This Iron Sand Palm is designed to kill with a single strike—each move is deadly and treacherous. If your foundation is unstable and your opponent spots the flaw, attacks downward, it'll be you who dies! Remember this well!" Liu Ba’s tone was grave.

Wang Hu nodded seriously, but then Liu Ba’s mouth stretched into a wide, bloody grin and he laughed. "But overall, you’re doing well! When I was your age, I couldn't even remember the forms!"

"Watch closely now—I'll teach you the core of the Iron Sand Palm: the inch-force technique. This is the essence. Pay attention!"

Liu Ba moved to the center of the yard, before a large stone—heavy and thick, the size of a millstone, used for tempering weapons. His veins bulged, temples protruding, his aura fierce as a tiger descending or a dragon rising. He roared, "Watch my arm!"

He punched the stone, and with a loud crack, his fist left a bowl-sized hole, chips of stone flying. Liu Ba clutched his hand, grimacing. "Damn it, that hurts like hell!"

"Did you see it? Don’t expect me to punch it again!" Liu Ba said irritably.

"Godfather, your arm seemed to contract and expand, and your fist was much larger than usual. The blood must have reversed and surged back, which is why the punch had such power!" Wang Hu mused.

"Good—my foster son indeed!" Liu Ba said proudly, shooting a glance at Zhou Qian. "Dog Boy, what did you observe?"

"Sixth Uncle, it seemed you didn't punch just once, but three times," Zhou Qian said, scrutinizing the hole. "The marks are different: first, small holes from your fingertips; then, impressions from bent knuckles; finally, the fist’s impact."

"Huh? You're smarter than you look! Indeed, I struck three times in succession. When the blood surges back and forth, the power multiplies. Remember my pre-punch movement? Bending fingers, retracting fist, drawing back the arm—it looks ordinary, but it’s crucial. When I bend my fingers, the five acupoints—Lesser Shang, Shang Yang, Central Balance, Gate Rush, Lesser Marsh—all contract, causing blood to swiftly flow backward. When I snap my fist back, the wrist acupoints—Split Deficiency, Yang Creek—first swell, then constrict, creating a steep slope for the blood to rush down. Finally, retracting the arm drives the blood to the upper body, compressing and churning. When the blood boils, one punch is like breaking a dam—the blood surges forward, multiplying the force. Touching stone with fingertips forces the blood back, then bending the knuckles is like placing a dam in a raging river—the power increases manyfold. Finally, opening the five acupoints releases the pent-up blood, like unleashing a hungry tiger—it’s ready to devour. The final punch can shatter stone and split mountains. Without martial skill, no mortal could achieve this!"

"This is the essence of the Iron Sand Palm—inch-force!" Liu Ba declared sternly.

He looked at Zhou Qian and suddenly grinned. "I'll teach you both the method for stimulating the acupoints—this is a secret family technique. Remember to keep it confidential!"

Liu Ba passed down the technique orally, then warned, "Let me remind you: I trained inch-force for five years. Reversing blood flow is extremely dangerous—if you fail, you could be crippled or even die from blood bursting. First, master the acupoints, then the blood flow; only when both are perfectly learned should you attempt inch-force."

After imparting more advice, Liu Ba went off to find wine, leaving Zhou Qian and Wang Hu. They talked at length; Zhou Qian wanted to share his master's breathing technique with Wang Hu, but Wang Hu refused, explaining that in the martial world, passing on secret techniques without permission was forbidden—at best, expulsion from the sect; at worst, punishment by elders. He sternly rebuked Zhou Qian, saying this was the greatest betrayal, equivalent to the deepest grudges. Zhou Qian felt secretly relieved—luckily he had spoken to his eldest brother first; had it been Second Brother Li, he would not have known how to face his master.

As sunset painted the sky, Zhou Qian took leave of Wang Hu, intending to visit nearby pharmacies to ask about Leopard Tail Grass. Wang Hu was about to return to his room when he saw Liu Ba lurking in the shadow of a wall, grinning, "You handled that well. Who knows if that sword immortal left any flaws in that breathing technique?"

Wang Hu was disgruntled. "Master, you eavesdropped on our conversation?"

Liu Ba shook his wine bottle, smiling, "Wanted to drink with Old Steward, but he’s off collecting rent with the master. You’re honest—internal techniques are secrets each martial sect guards, and you weren’t tempted."

"I was tempted, of course," Wang Hu admitted honestly, "but if I learned that technique, how could Third Brother face Elder Zhou? He’d surely be reprimanded, and brothers don’t do that."

"Why do you think I passed our family’s secret to the kid? He has a master a hundred times stronger than me," Liu Ba said meaningfully.

"Why is that?" Wang Hu asked, puzzled.

"That Hundred-Armed Sword Immortal is the greatest swordsman alive—unmatched throughout the Central Plains for a hundred years, peerless in the way of the sword, proud and domineering. If he finds out his disciple learned another family’s technique, even if it's the most basic force method, what do you think he’d do? He’d repay you with a palm technique ten times stronger! Fool, luck is on your side!" Liu Ba crowed.

"But isn’t that taking advantage of them?" Wang Hu was stunned. "You’re too cunning! Wouldn’t I be letting Zhou Brother down?"

"You know nothing! Passing family martial arts is like digging up your own ancestors’ graves—even to your own son, you need to judge his character. And you feel guilty? If that sword immortal is narrow-minded, it’ll all be for nothing—after death, I’d be whipped by the old man in the ancestral tomb. I’m doing this for you…"

The next day, Li Sanshan rushed to the magistrate’s manor to find Wang Hu, blurting, "Is Dog Egg here with you?"

Wang Hu shook his head, puzzled. "Why? Third Brother was here yesterday."

"Third Brother is missing!"

"What happened?" Wang Hu asked urgently.

Li Er explained. He had suddenly craved Zhou Qian’s noodles and wanted to check up on his martial progress—maybe sneak a move or two. But when he went to the noodle stand, Zhou Qian wasn’t there. Li Er sensed something was wrong and went to the monastery, but the young monk said he hadn’t seen Zhou since yesterday morning. Li Er searched several places Zhou Qian frequented, but found nothing, so he came to the magistrate’s manor to ask Wang Hu.

"Did you check Third Brother’s room?" Wang Hu frowned.

"I did! His spare clothes are gone. He must have been lured away by Elder Zhou—I've always thought that old man was up to no good!" Li Er’s forehead was slick with sweat.

"Damn!" Wang Hu clapped his hands. "Third Brother’s gone to She Mountain!"