Chapter 26: The Wandering Dragon Sword

In this era where martial arts are embraced by all, dojos and martial arts clubs can be found everywhere. Gao Wu had never heard of the Iron Dragon Dojo, but he could tell that Tie Ying’s physique was robust and her muscles taut, marking her as an advanced martial artist.

Since she was so enthusiastic, Gao Wu decided to join her for a meal and see what good fortune might come his way. After all, he enjoyed helping others—not for the sake of a free meal, of course.

Tie Ying was delighted when Gao Wu agreed. She appreciated his straightforward manner, not to mention his striking features—thick brows, pronounced and rugged lines, a tall, lean figure—he was genuinely handsome.

After leaving the Tianwu Association, Tie Ying chose a high-end restaurant nearby, a place she frequented and knew well. She picked a window seat and greeted the waiter with practiced ease, handing the menu to Gao Wu and inviting him to order.

Gao Wu politely declined; accepting a free meal was one thing, but to order would be overstepping.

“Braised Black-Horned Lamb Chops, Steamed Blue-Eyed Flying Fish, Poached White-Scaled Ice Shrimp, Double Portion of White-Crested Chicken Soup…”

Tie Ying ordered four dishes and a soup, all made from rare beast ingredients—luxurious cuisine that would cost two to three thousand at least. Gao Wu felt embarrassed. “Sister Ying, this is too extravagant.”

“Nonsense! Meeting a young friend like you is fate worth celebrating. And us both passing the advanced martial artist assessment—now that’s worth toasting!” Tie Ying waved her hand magnanimously.

Gao Wu smiled. “Sister Ying, your hospitality is overwhelming.”

He was being polite—after all, he’d been eating well at Song Mingyue’s every night lately; these dishes didn’t seem so special by comparison. He still had several thousand yuan on hand; if the meal became awkward, he could always pay his share.

“It’s just a small sum, not worth mentioning,” Tie Ying said with a hearty grin, her broad face, narrow eyes, and large mouth giving her a rather homely appearance. She was solidly built and wore a bright red sweater—both garish and unfashionable. Her loud, coarse voice drew many glances.

Several diners eyed Tie Ying, then looked at the spirited Gao Wu, exchanging knowing looks. Someone whispered, “So young and already knows the benefits of a wealthy patroness!”

Recently, Gao Wu’s spiritual strength had grown substantially, and his senses were sharper—he could now catch whispers from more than ten meters away. He couldn’t be bothered to care; after all, people see what they want to see, nothing more.

“Sister Ying, what’s this good fortune you mentioned?” Gao Wu got to the point.

“You don’t have a master yet, nor have you joined a dojo, right?” Tie Ying asked.

“I trained under my own grandfather, never joined a dojo,” Gao Wu replied.

“That’s perfect!” Tie Ying exclaimed with delight. “My brother, Tie Dalong, is the head of Iron Dragon Dojo. If you become his disciple, we’ll provide you with all the resources you need for martial cultivation.”

She added proudly, “My brother is a warrior; our family’s signature techniques—the Soaring Dragon Sword and Palm—are renowned for their excellence!”

“Sister Ying, forgive my bluntness, but what treatment would I actually receive?” Gao Wu was uninterested in becoming a disciple; clearly, they wanted him for his status as an eighteen-year-old advanced martial artist, hoping to use him as a dojo poster child.

As for the so-called dual mastery of sword and palm, he took it with a grain of salt.

This wasn’t ancient times, where a secret technique passed from father to son could establish a school. In the modern era, martial arts systems had been developed for over a century; all advanced knowledge was controlled by the great organizations of the Alliance.

No individual, however talented, could compare with the power of a modern, scientific martial arts system. Of course, Tie Dalong being a warrior was impressive; he likely had his own unique skills.

Tie Ying made sweeping promises. “Brother, as long as you join us, everything is negotiable…”

Hearing this, Gao Wu lost much of his interest. Benefits must be clearly defined—down to the last yuan, if possible. Vague promises with no details were just empty words.

He responded with polite flattery, “Sister Ying, you’re truly generous!”

Regardless of his thoughts, their conversation was lively, and the meal enjoyable. Afterward, Gao Wu added Tie Ying on Feixin, then rode his bicycle back to the old house.

Along the way, he bought some fruit. His grandfather was elderly and in poor health; with the winter heating making the room dry, it was important to have more fruit.

He also intended to consult his grandfather about the Iron Dragon Dojo.

“I know the Iron Dragon Dojo. Tie Dalong’s father was my comrade-in-arms, a formidable advanced warrior who died heroically on the Aurora Icefield,” the old man reminisced, emotion coloring his voice. “The Aurora Icefield is brutally cold, but even more dangerous than the climate are the many powerful beasts there.”

To protect the entrance to that secret realm, countless soldiers died every year.

He sighed. “After each battle, when the field was cleared, you’d see bloodstains smeared across the ice, dotted as far as the eye could see…”

Gao Wu fell silent. The television often broadcast the horrors of strange beasts and the bravery of the Iron Army, but none of that compared to his grandfather’s simple, heartfelt words.

“I’m just getting old and sentimental, always reminiscing,” the old man said with a soft sigh. He continued, “I’ve met Tie Dalong twice; he’s a bit slippery but not a bad person. He’s local and well-known. If you’re willing, you can cooperate with him.”

He added, “But your coach, Huang Hai—he doesn’t seem trustworthy.”

“Oh, and several people have gone missing in the old city recently. Either a beast slipped in, or cultists are causing trouble. You must be careful—never wander around at night…”

Gao Wu’s heart tightened. Could this be related to the white-scaled spirit at Lake Bailin?

Then he reconsidered—it couldn’t be. Only Song Mingyue could attract that spirit; no one else could. Besides, if the spirit were at fault, the first incidents would have happened at the school.

Clearly, these disappearances had nothing to do with the spirit at Lake Bailin.

He nodded firmly. “I understand.”

His grandfather said, “My specialty is the White Tiger Fist; I can’t teach you much about the Nine Dragon Forms. But Old Tie’s Soaring Dragon Sword has its own merits, rooted in the Nine Dragon Forms—you might benefit from learning it.”

Gao Wu nodded, about to speak, when his phone buzzed. It was a Feixin message from Tie Ying, with a location attached, inviting him to discuss matters further at Iron Dragon Dojo.

“I’ll go with you. Tie Dalong is slick—you mustn’t be taken advantage of.” His grandfather glanced at the message and smiled. Their eagerness showed just how much they valued Gao Wu.

Iron Dragon Dojo was located in the new eastern district, occupying an entire commercial building. Two stone dragons coiled at the entrance, making an impressive display.

Through the glass façade, Gao Wu could see many people in martial uniforms practicing on the first floor. Even on the edge of the commercial district, renting such a large space was no small expense; the dojo clearly had substantial resources.

Gao Wu led his grandfather inside, where an elegant receptionist greeted them. Upon hearing Gao Wu’s name, she guided them to the fourth-floor tearoom.

The receptionist knocked and entered first. Tie Ying quickly emerged, her face breaking into a broad grin, but she froze upon seeing the old man. “And this is?”

“My grandfather,” Gao Wu introduced.

Tie Ying scrutinized the old man. “You look familiar… have we met?”

“You must be Tie Ying. I met you over thirty years ago; you were just a child then, probably don’t remember me. My name is Shang Hongyi—I was friends with your father,” the old man replied placidly.

“Ah—Uncle Shang!” Tie Ying exclaimed, surprised. She hurried inside to call out, “Big brother, Uncle Shang is here! Come quickly!”

Tie Dalong, waiting in the main seat, was momentarily confused—“Who’s Uncle Shang?”—but seeing his sister’s reaction, he realized an important guest had arrived.

He strode out to see a tall, lean old man in a deep blue robe—Shang Hongyi—his face lined with age, eyes somewhat clouded, but still carrying a resolute spirit and holding himself proudly upright.

Tie Dalong found him vaguely familiar but couldn’t immediately place him.

Tie Ying rushed to introduce him, “Big brother, this is Uncle Shang, our father’s comrade-in-arms.”

“Oh! Uncle Shang!” Tie Dalong instantly remembered. After retiring, Shang Hongyi had quietly remained in Dongjiang, rarely appearing in public, though everyone in the martial arts community knew of him. Though he could no longer fight, he had many old comrades and was a hero of the Alliance; none dared treat him lightly.

Tie Dalong’s gaze shifted to the young man beside him.

In person, this youth was even more impressive than in the short videos—handsome, spirited, like the radiant sun at nine in the morning, full of vibrant energy.

It wasn’t that Gao Wu literally glowed, but the powerful life force, or perhaps one might say life magnetism, emanating from him was overwhelmingly vigorous.

Tie Dalong recognized at a glance that Gao Wu was a youth with boundless potential.

He offered a formal greeting, fists cupped in salute. “Uncle Shang, it’s been a long time—please, come in…”