Arc City University, the school gate.
Fu Hua stifled a yawn.
She had worked the graveyard shift last night, and then was tossed about all morning by Su Yu's strange request to learn martial arts. She had barely managed to scrape together three hours of sleep.
At this moment, her head was still groggy, and faint dark circles were visible beneath the rims of her red glasses.
But that feeling of excitement refused to fade, like a lost traveler who had finally found a destination worth striving for a lifetime.
Kiana.
That white-haired girl might truly be able to fulfill the long-cherished wish of generations of the Inch Heart Dojo.
However.
Fu Hua narrowed her eyes, and her pedaling unconsciously slowed down.
A Ferrari was parked at the school gate.
The fiery red chassis sparkled under the early summer sunlight, resembling a burning flame, forming a stark contrast with the dusty student bicycles around it.
And the woman leaning against the car door had practically written the word "ostentatious" into every single strand of her hair.
Crimson long hair draped behind her shoulders like a waterfall; the sunlight flowing over those strands made them look as if they were about to ignite.
She wore a tailored black suit dress, and the red-soled high heels on her feet made a crisp sound against the asphalt road, like a signal declaring her territory.
It was Su Mei.
Fu Hua's second disciple in name, though in reality, she was a full five years older than Fu Hua.
She really came.
Fu Hua sighed internally, and her bicycle came to a complete stop.
She could have pretended not to see her and detoured to enter through the side gate.
But the problem was, Su Mei's eyes were sharper than a hawk's, and the position of her sports car happened to encompass every route between the main gate and the side gate within her field of view.
There was no escaping it; she had to bite the bullet.
"Master—!"
Sure enough, just as Fu Hua turned her handlebars toward the gate, that familiar voice rang out.
Su Mei straightened up from the sports car, a flawless smile hanging on her face.
But the amount of information hidden beneath that smile was enough to make any 'Party A' client shiver.
"I knew you would take the main gate."
Su Mei stood before Fu Hua, arms crossed over her chest, looking down at Fu Hua who was still seated on her bicycle.
"You really made your disciple look hard for you. You didn't reply to WeChat messages this morning, didn't answer calls, and you were off duty at the convenience store. Are you trying to worry your disciple to death?"
Fu Hua did not reply.
She knew that once she responded, it would be equivalent to handing the initiative of the conversation over to the other party.
And Su Mei was the kind of person who, once she seized the initiative, could argue black into white and the dead back to life.
This second disciple called the wind and summoned the rain in the business world. The internet celebrities signed under her had over a hundred million fans combined; she was a recognized 'god-maker' in the industry.
But precisely because of this, she had a headache-inducing flaw—she would not stop until she achieved her goal, especially when she believed she was "absolutely correct."
"Master, listen to me."
Seeing that Fu Hua remained silent, Su Mei didn't wait for her reaction and simply began her output.
"You are a true teenage Grandmaster; you have real skills. But look at those so-called traditional martial arts masters nowadays—which one isn't a half-bucket of water sloshing around?"
"Every single one of them performs 'hitting a bull through a mountain' or 'Qigong pushing people' on short video platforms, bluffing the audience until they're dazed, earning pots full of money."
"You are a hundred times better than them. Why must you go work part-time at a convenience store?"
Speaking to this point, Su Mei's tone carried a trace of genuine heartache.
She reached out and tapped the hoodie on Fu Hua, which had been washed until it was somewhat faded. "Look at these clothes. This is still the one from last year, right? Bought on sale? Is it appropriate for a dignified Grandmaster to dress like this?"
Fu Hua looked down at her clothes and didn't feel there was anything wrong.
In fact, she didn't only have these clothes.
Ellie and Eden had given Fu Hua many clothes.
But Fu Hua wasn't used to wearing those clothes. Because they were gifts from friends, she couldn't bear to wear them out.
The spirit of a martial artist was etched into Fu Hua's bones. In Su Mei's words, she was simply like the last gravekeeper of a martial art that had already passed away—a "Last Grandmaster" in the truest sense.
"This outfit is very comfortable, and it holds up to washing," she answered concisely.
Su Mei nearly choked on this sentence.
"I know what you want to say." Su Mei sighed. "You want to say that martial arts are for cultivating the self, not for showing off. You want to say the dignity of the Tai Xu Sect cannot be sold for traffic. You want to say you look down on those scammers who engage in false advertising, right?"
There were some words Su Mei didn't say.
Although Fu Hua's roommates were all a bit "strange," each one was a boss-level figure in their respective fields.
The streamer Miss Pink Elf, a top-tier figure in the livestreaming world.
As for the landlord, Eden, there was no need to even mention her. She was an absolute world superstar. Su Mei dreamed of collaborating with her just once—as everyone knew, there were only two types of people in this world.
One type was Eden's fans, and the other was Eden's twisted fans.
As long as Fu Hua was willing to ask.
Even if it was just asking to divert a little traffic.
The situation of the Inch Heart Dojo would be vastly different.
But she had never done so. Even though Eden and Ellie both wanted to help this good girl who worked hard to support her studies.
Yet Fu Hua still declined their kindness. She was grateful that Eden provided her with cheap accommodation, which was already a tremendous help in Arc City where land was worth its weight in gold.
Maybe some would say she was stubborn, say her brain couldn't turn a corner, say that clearly, as long as she opened her mouth, money and status were within easy reach.
But this was Fu Hua. This was her.
A "little old-fashioned" person whom even her disciples couldn't quite understand.
But precisely because of this, because of this Master who was young in age but old in spirit, always strictly adhering to her own bottom line, Su Mei felt such respect and helplessness.
Looking at Su Mei before her, Fu Hua fell silent for two seconds.
"You're quite accurate."
"Nonsense, I've been with you for so many years." Su Mei sighed. "But the problem is, who cares about that set of things you stick to nowadays? The dojo can't recruit students, we disciples do our own things, your dad is lying in a nursing home, and the money you send there every month is earned by you staying up all night on shifts—"
"Mei-jie." Fu Hua's voice suddenly turned cold. "I will handle these matters myself."
Su Mei looked as if she had been splashed with a basin of cold water; that aggressive momentum instantly dissipated a few degrees.
"Fine, I won't mention those."
Su Mei took a deep breath and readjusted her offensive.
"But you can't deny that the Tai Xu Sect is just an empty shell now. Although the things you practice are powerful, fragments are fragments after all."
Su Mei knew clearly that the reason Fu Hua was unwilling to help with publicity wasn't just this.
Part of the reason was that Fu Hua had thoroughly studied those fragmented scrolls when she was young, but for so many years, she had been unable to take a step further.
She likely saw the limits of these remnants and felt that as the "Last Grandmaster," she had no way to pass down the true Tai Xu supreme arts.
"You said it yourself, the true Sword Intent and Mental Techniques were broken long ago."
Su Mei's brain spun rapidly, trying to use her silver tongue to move Fu Hua.
"Rather than wasting away like this, it's better to get the reputation out there first. With traffic comes resources, and with resources can we—"
"I found it."
Su Mei's words came to an abrupt halt.
She stared blankly at Fu Hua, discovering that the corners of her usually taciturn Master's mouth were actually slightly upturned at this moment.
It wasn't smugness, nor was it showing off. It was a kind of... relieved calmness.
"Found what?" Su Mei asked subconsciously.
"The true successor of the Tai Xu Sword Sect," Fu Hua said. "The complete version of the Mental Techniques, the complete version of the Sword Intent. Not fragments, but the orthodox direct lineage. It is a Little Martial Aunt of mine."
Su Mei froze in place, not knowing what to say for a moment.
She stared at Fu Hua's face for a full five seconds, trying to find traces of a joke on that poker face that remained as always.
"Master, if you don't want to do livestreams just say so, you don't need to make up this kind of—"
Fu Hua's phone rang.
She took out her phone and glanced at it. It was a message from Su Yu, accompanied by a video.
Perfect timing.
"See for yourself." Fu Hua handed the phone over. "This was recorded this morning."
Su Mei took the phone, her heart still muttering complaints like Master's excuse is too perfunctory, but her finger habitually tapped open the video.
The footage began with an ordinary living room. In the corner stood a punching bag that looked weather-beaten.
A white-haired girl appeared in the shot, wearing loose-fitting hoodie and shorts, looking a bit lazy, like she had just woken up and wasn't fully awake yet.
"Hey, hey, hold back your strength, don't burst the sandbag."
A male voice sounded from outside the frame.
"Aiya, I know, I know, you've said it so many times. I'll just use thirty percent... no, twenty percent strength, okay!"
Just this?
Su Mei frowned.
Twenty percent strength? Bragging without a draft, aren't we?
In the video, the white-haired girl stood firm before the sandbag, rotated her wrists, and then—
She moved.
In that instant, Su Mei's eyes widened violently.
Without any warning, without any starting stance, the girl's fist hit the sandbag like a bolt of lightning.
That sandbag, tall enough for a person, shook violently under that punch, emitting a muffled thud.
But this wasn't over. The girl's figure flashed, circling to the side of the sandbag like flowing water, and a side kick accurately hit the sandbag's waist area.
Knee strike.
Elbow strike.
Finally, a beautiful spinning back kick.
Every move, every form, was so fast it dazzled the eyes, yet accurate as if measured with a ruler.
There were no superfluous connections between those movements, no flashy performance, only the purest, sharpest—killing intent.
Yes, killing intent.
Su Mei had seen too many so-called "martial arts videos." The people in those videos were either performing routines or showing off skills. No matter how beautiful the movements, they revealed a flavor of "performance."
But this white-haired girl before her eyes was different. Every single one of her movements looked as if she were truly facing an enemy.
That sharpness, that crispness, that imposing manner as if she were about to take someone's life in the next second.
This was not a performance.
This was a true killing technique.
"This..." Su Mei's voice was a little dry. "Who is this person?"
Fu Hua took the phone back. The expression on her face remained calm, but there was an extra hint of certainty in her eyes.
"The true successor of the Tai Xu Sword Sect."
Su Mei was stunned.
She opened her mouth, wanting to say something, but found that her brain couldn't keep up at all.
Hasn't the True Transmission of the Tai Xu Sword Sect been lost long ago?
She had heard the old Dojo Master say since childhood that the core mental techniques of the Tai Xu Sword Sect had been broken long ago. What the Inch Heart Dojo could teach now was nothing more than superficial kung fu and fragmented sword manuals.
But the video before her eyes—
There was clearly a distinct spirit in that white-haired girl's movements that she had never seen before.
The fluidity of those movements, the way the force was conducted, the overall coordination—
Su Mei's breathing began to become rapid.
She was a businesswoman, but she was first and foremost the Second Disciple of the Inch Heart Dojo.
She had learned boxing with Fu Hua for a long time. Although her talent couldn't compare to Junior Sister Cheng, she was considered a good hand among the disciples.
Unlike other disciples, her eyesight was very good.
That white-haired girl's kung fu was above Fu Hua's.
No, not just Fu Hua.
Those so-called "Martial Arts Titans" and "Martial Arts Masters," added together, couldn't compare to this girl.
"Master..." Su Mei's voice began to tremble slightly. "Is she... the Little Martial Aunt you mentioned?"
Fu Hua nodded.
Just such a simple action was like a heavy hammer smashing onto Su Mei's heart.
Little Martial Aunt... really exists? The direct lineage True Transmission of the Tai Xu Sword Sect... really isn't broken?!
Su Mei's eyes began to shine. That radiance was completely different from her shrewdness when discussing business usually.
It was a near-fanatical excitement originating from the bottom of her heart.
As a businesswoman, she saw a massive business opportunity.
But as a disciple of the Inch Heart Dojo, she saw something else—hope.
"Master."
Su Mei took a deep breath, trying hard to make her voice sound less agitated, but the flames in those eyes couldn't be suppressed no matter what.
"This Little Martial Aunt... no, this Little Grandmaster... when can we meet?"
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