Chapter 78

North wind rolled snowflakes, whistling as it blew. Li Ping'an stood alone deep in the woods, his true qi surging, actually creating a snow-free zone around him where not a drop of water could penetrate. He closed his eyes, feeling the rushing flow of inner strength within him—he was just a thin layer of paper away from the Transformation Realm.

These days, he taught the Anti-Japanese Alliance brothers martial arts by day and trained harder at night. The Wind-Cleaving Eight Blades had been passed on—simple, swift, and especially handy in combat. A young soldier even chuckled, saying, "Instructor Li, your blade work is faster than my mom chopping cabbage!"

At this moment he was fully focused, striking the final bottleneck. His Divine Perception spread like a net, grasping every stir of wind and grass within forty meters: field mice tunneling under the snow, snow on branches sliding off with a puff, even the low voices in the distant camp were crystal clear.

"Have you heard? The Japanese are about to launch a sweep." "What's there to fear? We have food and clothing, plus Instructor Li's blade technique." "But this time I heard a tough guy's coming—what's his name? Miyamoto Musashi..."

Li Ping'an frowned slightly. Miyamoto Musashi? He had finally arrived?

He gathered his mind and continued circulating the celestial circuit. True qi surged like rivers, constantly striking the Ren and Du meridians. Suddenly a flash of insight came—he recalled a line from the yellowed manual in the Spiritual Spring Space: "Utmost softness, utmost hardness; yin and yang harmonized—only then is the Transformation Realm attained."

That's how it is! He had always pursued hardness, forgetting that Tai Chi's softness can overcome hardness. The hardness of Eight Extremes Fist, the softness of Tai Chi Fist, and the agility of the Carefree Step were never meant to be separated!

With a sudden realization, he let out a long whistle and his figure leapt through the snow. Sometimes like a tiger descending the mountain, his fist wind fierce; sometimes like water flowing around a stone, his movements round and smooth; sometimes like a phantom flitting about, his steps elusive. The three martial arts finally merged into one within him.

"Boom—" it felt as if an internal barrier had been shattered in one blow, his true qi flowing unhindered, a sensation of indescribable comfort and joy. His Divine Perception suddenly expanded, reaching sixty meters out, even the trajectories of falling snowflakes were clearly visible.

The Transformation Realm—achieved!

Just then, a sharp whistle rang out in the distance—the Anti-Japanese Alliance's emergency signal!

Li Ping'an moved, soaring like a great bird over the snow, a few leaps brought him back to the camp. Political Commissar Zhou was mustering the troops, every face heavy with solemnity.

"Comrade Li, you've returned just in time." Political Commissar Zhou handed him a note: "Intelligence says Miyamoto Musashi is leading a regiment advancing on us, vowing to wipe us out completely."

Squad Leader Yang spat on the ground: "Damn little devils, always picking their moment. With the New Year coming, are they rushing to deliver our holiday goods?"

The soldiers burst into laughter, but the tension couldn't be hidden. Everyone knew Miyamoto Musashi was no pushover.

Li Ping'an pondered a moment, then said: "Perfect timing. I was just hoping to meet him."

Political Commissar Zhou frowned tightly: "Comrade Li, under no circumstances underestimate him. That Miyamoto Musashi..."

"I understand." Li Ping'an's eyes sharp: "That's why I need to see him. But first, we must prepare a 'welcome gift' for our 'esteemed guest'."

He waved over a few squad captains, forming a circle, and began arranging things in a low voice.

The next day, Miyamoto Musashi led his troops into the mountains. This old Japanese soldier wore a traditional samurai uniform, overcoat of a military officer, rode a tall horse, his eyes gloomy and vicious like a starving wolf.

"Your Excellency Colonel, the area ahead is where the Anti-Japanese Alliance often operates." The pseudo-army guide said, bowing and scraping.

Miyamoto Musashi spoke coldly: "Speed up the advance. Before night falls, I will raze their nest."

The troops pushed forward several li, when the lead recon soldier came running back in a panic: "Report, report! There are many strange markings on the road!"

Miyamoto Musashi rode over to inspect and saw arrows drawn in the snow pointing in different directions, each accompanied by words: "Food here," "Ammunition this way," "Anti-Japanese Alliance nest ahead," and so on.

"Bah!" Miyamoto Musashi's face turned pale: "These Chinese dare to toy with the Imperial Army!"

He suppressed his anger, leaned in to look closer—suddenly his eyes narrowed: beside one arrow was written in bold, "Miyamoto Musashi will be buried here," along with a crooked skull drawing.

"Interesting." Miyamoto Musashi snorted: "Let's see what tricks you can pull."

He ordered the troops to follow that arrow. Sure enough, not far ahead they found a wooden box buried in the snow, labeled "A gift for Colonel Miyamoto."

The soldiers carefully opened the box—inside lay a whole case of hand grenades, all their fuses linked together!

"Take cover!" Miyamoto Musashi bellowed, leaping down from his horse.

"Boom—!" The explosion shook heaven and earth; several Japanese who couldn't dodge were blown into the air. Though Miyamoto Musashi dodged quickly, the blast wave flung him over, his head and face covered in snow, a sorry sight.

"Ha ha ha ha—!" came a burst of laughter from the woods—the Anti-Japanese Alliance soldiers jeering, "Little devils, is this big gift enough of a kick for you?"

Miyamoto Musashi's face turned ashen, he drew his samurai sword with a swish, pointing toward the laughter: "Chase them!"

The Japanese troops hurriedly gave chase, but paid no attention to their feet. One after another stepped into animal traps, fell into pits, or triggered tripwires that left them hanging upside down. The whole unit descended into chaos.

Just then, Li Ping'an led a squad of elites silently around to the rear of the Japanese forces. Seeing the enemy's formation fall into disarray, he curled the corner of his mouth.

"Squad Leader Yang, you take men to harass the left flank. Er Gazi, you go startle their horses. The rest, follow me!"

He slipped into the Japanese supply area like a phantom—here lay stockpiles of food and ammunition, with relatively weak defenses.

"Who goes there?" the sentinel began to say—Li Ping'an's dart sealed his throat.

The soldiers moved swiftly—what could be carried was taken, what couldn't was set ablaze. In an instant, the Japanese supplies were utterly destroyed.

By the time Miyamoto Musashi hurried back with his men to defend, Li Ping'an had already vanished with his troops, leaving only a scene of wreckage and a note:

"I've heard that to catch me, you, Miyamoto Musashi, have chased from Beiping all the way to Dongbei, relentless, yet our two clashes both ended in your defeat. Tomorrow we settle this at Tiger Head Mountain—if you fear death, stay away, evil ghost."

Miyamoto Musashi flew into a rage, smashing the nearby wooden box with a single strike: "Bah, so you're the evil ghost! I will surely kill you!!"

At that moment, Li Ping'an had returned to the Anti-Japanese Alliance camp. The soldiers were happily tallying the spoils, only Political Commissar Zhou wore a worried expression.

"Comrade Li, this has thoroughly enraged Miyamoto Musashi; he will surely launch a frenzied counterattack."

Li Ping'an nodded: "I know. So we must prepare an even bigger 'gift'."

He spread out the map, his finger pointing to a valley: "Tomorrow, right here at Tiger Head Mountain, we'll give Miyamoto Musashi a surprise."

The next day, Miyamoto Musashi indeed led his entire force out, marching straight for the Anti-Japanese Alliance camp. This time he had learned: he sent engineers ahead to scout, while the main body advanced slowly.

Upon reaching a valley, the engineers reported: "Your Excellency Colonel, the cliffs on either side may conceal an ambush."

Miyamoto Musashi smirked: "Trifling tricks." He immediately ordered the artillery to bombard the cliffs.

The shells blasted stone fragments flying, yet not a single enemy silhouette was seen. Just as the Japanese let their guard down, countless Anti-Japanese Alliance soldiers suddenly burst from the snow!

As it turned out, Li had earlier hidden his brothers in snow pits, covered with white cloth for camouflage, waiting precisely for this moment!

"Kill—!" the soldiers surged down like tigers from the mountain; in the flash of blades, the Japanese fell one after another.

Miyamoto Musashi was both startled and enraged, slashing his sword and cutting down several foes. Suddenly he sensed a fierce killing intent locking onto him.

He looked up and saw Li Ping'an standing on high ground, coldly gazing at him.

Their eyes met, sparks flying.

"Miyamoto Musashi!" Li Ping'an's voice boomed like a great bell—"Do you dare to fight me?"

Miyamoto Musashi gave a feral grin: "I couldn't ask for more!"

The two leapt up at once, like two eagles lunging at each other—

Amid the flashing blades and sword shadows, the decisive battle officially began.