108 A Misstep

“Ah?”

Qiangzi turned around, puzzled, looking toward the lama, only to find that the lama wasn’t looking at him but gazing at the eaves. It was then that he realized there must be someone else there.

“Apologies for dropping in uninvited. Du Ruo pays respects to the master.”

Du Ruo descended from the eaves, landing lightly on his toes, slightly bending his knees with barely a sound. Upon touching down, he bowed to the lama. Though his faith was in nature and his reverence directed toward Heaven and Earth, he held great respect for the beliefs of others.

He had initially come mainly to see what Qiangzi was up to so early in the morning, in case any trouble arose, he could lend a hand.

But upon seeing the other had come to the temple, he no longer worried. After all, the lama was a veteran in the area for decades; whatever Qiangzi did, harm was unlikely.

“Boss Du? What are you doing here?”

Qiangzi’s face was full of surprise — he never expected Boss Du to appear here.

“It’s not like you’re the only one who can come. I saw the master’s demeanor yesterday and thought I’d come chat for a bit,” Du Ruo replied.

“Ah, young friend, please come in. I’m about to prepare Tibetan tea. If you have time, you can have a cup before you leave.”

The lama noticed that Du Ruo and Qiangzi knew each other. Initially, he’d worried Du Ruo might be an uninvited guest and called him out before Qiangzi left to avoid any harm coming to the innocent Qiangzi. Now knowing they were acquainted, those concerns vanished. Naturally, he treated Du Ruo differently than Qiangzi.

In this day and age, to have reached such a level at Du Ruo’s age was a rare talent. Treating him as an equal guest was only fitting.

“No, we came mainly to watch today’s Tianma Festival. If we linger any longer, Qiangzi might miss the opening ceremony. We’ll visit again another day.”

Du Ruo cupped his fists politely. He wasn’t one for bravado; the lama wasn’t going anywhere. Another visit would be just as good.

“Oh! Right, the Tianma Festival, master, I have to go. If I don’t make it, my father will have to take part. Boss Du, let’s hurry.”

Qiangzi, realizing suddenly, bowed to the lama, then hurried off. He wasn’t entirely comfortable letting his father perform at the festival. Though his father had more experience, he was no longer young, and any injury might be hard to recover from.

The lama didn’t linger either, escorting the two outside.

“Boss Du, where’s your horse?”

Qiangzi mounted his horse and looked around. Seeing no other horses in sight, he asked Du Ruo.

“I just arrived yesterday and haven’t had a chance to ride yet. It’s fine. You should head straight to the event; I’ll take Yuanyuan and the others to watch the opening later.”

Du Ruo snorted, somewhat annoyed. He had wanted to ride the horse in the morning to get familiar, but the delay had taken up the time. Qiangzi’s family ranch only had this one horse left; the others had already gone to participate in the opening ceremony.

“Heh heh, I’m off then. The car keys are on the living room coffee table, Boss Du. You drive yourself. I’ll send you the best viewing spot later.”

Qiangzi scratched his head awkwardly and smiled. He was easily fired up. Saying that, he kicked the horse forward, trotting toward the town.

“A promising young lad. Rare to see someone still with a bit of a pure heart. Why hasn’t Du thought about taking on an apprentice?”

The lama sighed as he watched Qiangzi ride away.

“Too hot-headed. At that age, having too much martial power can be a bad thing. Besides, doesn’t the master have no intention to teach him anything?”

Du Ruo shook his head. What the lama said to Qiangzi earlier couldn’t be wrong. The lama spoke convincingly of the “Iron Palm Mastery,” and it certainly wasn’t fabricated. But that didn’t mean the lama only knew that style.

Tibetan martial arts were vast and profound, encompassing a complete lineage from basic strikes to the highest internal energy techniques, not all of which demanded harsh discipline.

So the lama simply didn’t want to teach, not that he couldn’t.

Only someone as straightforward as Qiangzi would take everything at face value.

“Heh, Tibetan martial arts are ultimately Buddhist martial arts. Many moves require the corresponding state of mind to work.”

The lama added this explanation.

“Well then, farewell. We’ll visit again another day.”

Du Ruo nodded and then dashed off toward the pasture.

The lama’s words resonated with him. Buddhist martial arts sought efficiency and directness without flashy moves, making their techniques appear cruel. Without the proper mindset, one could easily cause harm.

For example, the “Heart-Intent Palm” was a secret Buddhist technique that had only two moves: the hammer and the strike. Simple and brutal.

Tai Chi’s cunning, Bagua’s smoothness, the deadliest of all was Heart-Intent Palm. Though it described a fighting style, its longevity was no accident.

Back at the ranch, Yuanyuan and Li Qiyao were already up and washing. They’d slept well. The environment here was better than in the village, and since it was the pasturelands, there was no noise except the sounds of insects. The temperature was just right, and even Yuanyuan’s complexion looked much improved.

Du Ruo told them Qiangzi had left early to prepare. They weren’t surprised. The three had a light meal, then Du Ruo drove them to the best viewing spot Qiangzi had sent. Qiangzi had also said they neededn’t prepare anything; he had a friend there, and they only needed to show up.

In recent years, Zhaosu had vigorously developed tourism, aiming to replace animal husbandry. With abundant natural scenery, although the town was small, the infrastructure and planning were quite good. Along the way, many campers and properties were visible.

The place Qiangzi recommended was along a river on the grassland. Of course, vehicles couldn’t enter the meadow. When Du Ruo arrived, many had already set up tents or canopies by the riverbank.

“Hey, friends! Are you Qiangzi’s guests?”

As Du Ruo and the others reached the riverbank, a young man in Tibetan attire greeted them warmly. It was clear this spot was a common hangout for locals, and his accent was distinctively regional.

“Yes, Qiangzi sent us.”

Du Ruo nodded. The young man’s group had set up a large tent. Besides him, there were many others—Tibetan girls in traditional dress and tourists like Du Ruo’s group.

“Qiangzi’s friends are our friends! Come, come!”

The Tibetan youth was very enthusiastic, inviting them to join, bringing out various cheeses, white spirits, and local delicacies. Soon, lively conversation filled the air.

Yuanyuan was especially excited, eyeing the liquor on the table and swallowing hard. If not for Li Qiyao firmly holding her back, she might have already been downing glasses.

“You all chat. Qiqi and I will go for a walk,” Yuanyuan whispered to Du Ruo, grabbing a dried beef stick from the table and pulling Li Qiyao aside.

“She still has some sense left. After a few days, her craving for alcohol should be controlled. But she’ll need to get checked at the hospital before drinking again.”

Du Ruo watched them leave, thinking about the liver damage. During treatment, no alcohol was allowed. After recovery or regaining basic function, drinking was possible, but no drunkenness or heavy drinking. Hopefully, then, supervision wouldn’t be so strict.

“Come, Brother Du, let’s drink.”

The Tibetan youth’s warmth was infectious. Even strangers could sing and dance together. Since Du Ruo was Qiangzi’s guest, the white spirit quickly flowed.

“To good health!”

Du Ruo didn’t hold back. After all, they were here to enjoy themselves. This amount of alcohol wouldn’t affect him much. Raising his cup, he downed a bowl of white spirit.

This was “Xiaolbulak,” a clean, crisp white spirit that went down smoothly. Du Ruo thoroughly enjoyed it.

Drinking and listening to the young man sing Tibetan songs, time passed quickly.

“Hm?”

Du Ruo’s senses were sharp. Sitting on the grass with a mat beneath him, he felt a slight tremor in the ground. Immediately, he realized it was the prelude to a stampede.

“Yuanyuan, Qiqi, come back quickly! It’s starting—the horses are coming!”

Setting down his cup, Du Ruo stood and called out. He saw the two girls and several Tibetan girls playing in the water by the riverbank.

“Okay!”

Yuanyuan and Li Qiyao trusted Du Ruo completely. On his call, they hurried back, standing beside him and rising on tiptoe to look into the distance.

First, a cloud of dust appeared far off, billowing in a place beyond the grassland, explaining the dust.

Then they felt vibrations and heard the dense thunder of hooves, along with many horses neighing. Soon, a herd galloped toward them.

“Rumble rumble—rumble rumble rumble!!”

The thunderous stampede of countless horses was deafening, charging with overwhelming might. The breathtaking scene defied description.

“Now I understand why Genghis Khan was invincible,” Yuanyuan shouted near Du Ruo’s ear, though only he could hear her clearly amidst the roar.

Splash! The horses thundered into the river before them, water spraying high, their momentum undiminished. The water washed away dust, revealing their sleek forms and muscle lines in detail.

Du Ruo was captivated, his gaze fixed on the lead horse—a magnificent black stallion, noticeably taller than the others, with sharply defined muscles. Watching its every step, Du Ruo observed subtle shifts in its musculature.

His eyesight was excellent, especially when highly focused. With each gallop, he could see the fine changes in the horse’s muscles, powered by flowing force.

Almost instinctively, Du Ruo tightened his toes, a surge of energy rising from his feet. His leg muscles twitched, energy flowing upward. In that moment, he and the stallion’s muscles seemed to synchronize.

“Step—”

The lead horse’s forehoof struck the water, producing a crisp sound. Simultaneously, Du Ruo clenched his fists and stepped forward in unison.

“Bang—”

His fists seemed to hit an invisible wall of air, generating a burst of power. The punch stirred a slight breeze, bending the grass beneath.

“As expected, I still need to explore more. Mastery of Xingyi拳 at max level means mastery of the form’s techniques, but not mastery of Xingyi itself. The road ahead is long—I can’t let skills box me in.”

Du Ruo felt joyful inside. Only Yuanyuan and Li Qiyao, standing close, had witnessed this moment. Others were still overwhelmed by the stampede, their ears filled with thunderous hooves, unable to focus on anything else.

Du Ruo had observed the lead horse’s posture and muscle dynamics, then instinctively replicated the same muscle movements combined with his understanding of Xingyi’s horse form to deliver that punch.

This made his “Horse Form Collapse Fist” about 60% more powerful than before.

Watching the stampede live was truly unparalleled. Standing before hundreds of thousands of galloping horses, one felt minuscule. The thunderous pounding of hooves seemed to alter the very sky and earth, causing the heart to race involuntarily.

While Du Ruo and company were immersed in awe, ranchers rode among the horses, guiding the herd’s general direction to prevent accidents.

In truth, what they saw was not the entire herd. Beyond a certain number, the difference between ten thousand and a hundred thousand horses became less apparent.

Normally, about ten thousand horses ran at a time. To reduce accidents, the organizers split the hundred thousand horses across the pasture for performances, regrouping only where Du Ruo’s group watched.

At the pasture’s edge, Qiangzi and some young herders did not gallop with the herd. They guided horses near a group of celebrities who were taking photos.

These celebrities were invited by locals to promote the area. Of course, they wouldn’t run with the herd due to danger. Even seasoned herders couldn’t guarantee safety, especially for celebrities newly learning to ride.

The celebrities only ran with the herd briefly to get shots, while Qiangzi and others maintained order and protected them.

“Ah!!”

Everything had gone smoothly until one celebrity’s mare, perhaps nervous, stepped on a stone, faltering. The celebrity slipped and fell from the horse.

Qiangzi and the others rushed over. One took the horse’s reins; another helped the fallen celebrity up.

“She didn’t land well and twisted her ankle.”

Wu Jing, the martial arts star, saw the injury immediately.

“There’s an ambulance nearby. Take her to the hospital.”

The tourism bureau chief hurried over. Fortunately, such events were not new; emergency measures were in place. An ambulance was called, and Qiangzi’s group helped carry the celebrity to the hospital.