Chapter 179: Childhood Sweethearts…

Song Lin led us to the theater shed where the stage was set up, and in the center of the shed stood a three‑eyed deity. This deity is the famous Spirit Palace Marshal Ma, also Pangzi's ancestral master, the Great Emperor Huaguang who manifests five times in the thirty‑three heavens.

Those who work in opera troupes we call people who eat eight‑direction rice, running all over southeast, northwest, up, down, left, right. People often say, the more night roads you walk, the more you fear meeting ghosts, so opera troupes also enshrine deity images for protection.

As for why we enshrine the Huaguang Ancestral Master, of course it's not because folk legend says he's the patriarch of opera. The reason opera troupes enshrine the Great Emperor Huaguang is first, many of the actors are Hakka and Chaoshan people; Hakka culture especially reveres the Huaguang Ancestral Master. One could say that enshrining the Huaguang Ancestral Master in opera troupes began with the Hakka.

Secondly, other spirits, even if they have power, are too merciful. If hungry wandering ghosts come to absorb incense, most of them close their eyes. Yet among the many spirits, the Great Emperor Huaguang and Lord Guan are naturally different—no matter whether the ghost is good or evil, as long as it's a ghost, it cannot approach them. Those who eat eight‑direction rice seek a hundred‑percent guarantee; the best choice is none other than the Huaguang Ancestral Master.

As for Lord Guan, this deity suits those who eat ten‑direction rice; "ten directions" means the eight directions plus heaven and earth, referring to those who at any moment step into the yin‑yang realms—desperadoes.

However, the range covered by the Huaguang Ancestral Master's dharma body is quite limited; besides the backstage, it does not even reach the stage. Once the deity image is fixed in place, it cannot be moved at will. When strange things happen on the stage, even the consecrated Huaguang deity is powerless.

After washing our hands and eyes with pomelo‑leaf water, I and Pangzi respectfully offered a stick of incense to the Huaguang Ancestral Master, then under Song Lin's guidance we came to the bright hall where Liu Guozhong was resting.

"The stance of the Liu family staff emphasizes being solid as four‑flat‑eight‑stable, like an old tree taking root. Using a still stance combined with waist power to turn the stance, when turning back the stance must be steady, the waist flexible, and the qi must follow the turning of the stance—only then can you execute the Turning Beautiful Seal Throat Spear." In the spacious bright hall, an old man full of vigor explained the essentials of the Liu family fist to the gathered youngsters.

"Bring the staff over, let me demonstrate once," the old man snatched a staff from a youngster's hand and planted his legs in a firm four‑flat stance.

Suddenly, behind the old man, a youngster casually threw a vegetable‑serving plate. I was wondering what they were up to when the old man's loud shout rang in my ears.

No sooner said than done—just as I heard the shout, the old man turned his stance at lightning speed, keeping the turning‑step‑level‑plain posture, waist and stance unmoving, and his staff shot toward the airborne plate like a flash of lightning.

There was no booming crash, nor the clatter of bowls and plates hitting the ground; only in that instant of extreme speed did the old man's long staff steadily pierce the plate, the white ceramic plate threading onto the staff and hanging steady in midair as he kept his level‑plain stance.

When the "good" feeling rose to a high pitch, I couldn't help shouting out loud. Don't think the old man's move is extremely simple; it contains skill that even someone who has trained martial arts for ten or eight years cannot perform.

What matters is not only waist and stance power, but also hearing, sight, and internal inch energy. At the moment the plate was tossed halfway up, the old man, relying on his extraordinary hearing, turned and thrust back; his sight accurately caught the plate's central point. In the instant of penetration, it appeared as a straight‑forward thrust, but in fact his hand only shot forward explosively after extending halfway.

This is internal fist energy—it's about explosive power, a "shock" character. Like Wing Chun's Daily Rush Fist, the fist eases out to halfway, then is unleashed with a sudden strike.

If a person throws a punch straight ahead blindly, no matter how strong he is, it's merely blind force. But if a punch is delivered with this shaking method, it damages the internal tissues of a person's body. When it strikes a person, the fist energy travels along the body through the meridians, harming the organs.

This is why, when the old man's staff passed through the plate, it only pierced a hole in the center, yet the plate did not shatter instantly.

Those who use blind force disperse their power; but those who master inch energy concentrate their force into a single point, shocking it into the body.

But never underestimate this internal energy—if it stays still, it's nothing; once it moves, it can shred a person into ten thousand pieces. This internal energy lies hidden in your body like a time bomb, ready to detonate at any moment.

For example, two people practice punches on a stone—one uses blind force, the other internal fist energy. After the blind‑force practitioner finishes, the stone keeps chipping away piece by piece; but after the inch‑energy practitioner finishes his punch, the stone suffers no damage at all.

But if you then lightly tap that stone, I guarantee it will explode instantly, because the inch‑energy practitioner has already, during training, gathered his force into a single point and gradually shocked it into the stone.

Just as I shouted, the old man lightly turned his grip on the staff, and the plate hanging on it instantly shattered into pieces. At that same moment, the old man coughed and staggered back a few steps; fortunately someone behind held him up, otherwise he would have collapsed straight to the ground.

"Uncle‑in‑law…" Pangzi hurried over and steadied the fallen old man.

This lame old man is precisely Pangzi's beloved uncle‑in‑law, Liu Guozhong. When Aunt Wang was alive she could not become his wife; after her death he stubbornly insisted on giving her a title, taking Aunt Wang as his wife.

Upon hearing Pangzi's voice, Liu Guozhong's shoulders involuntarily trembled; the instant he turned, his stern, stiff face softened into a loving expression.

"It's Xiaoqiang who's come—great, just great," Liu Guozhong said kindly, his chest rising and falling; after a violent bout of coughing his face flushed red.

Pangzi quickly took a cup of water, gave it to Liu Guozhong, and patted his back to ease his breath.

"Right, Xiaoqiang, who is this…?" After drinking the water, Liu Guozhong looked at me doubtfully and asked Pangzi.

Pangzi waved his hand carelessly and said, "Oh, this is Hai Sheng, my childhood sweetheart."

Pfft!

Hiss!

I took the water handed over by a young brother; as I had just swallowed it, I heard Pangzi's words. I instantly felt a surge of blood rush to my chest, bringing up the water I'd just drunk. My heart… felt exactly like ten thousand alpacas galloping. If I had to describe that scene of ten thousand alpacas galloping in one phrase, only three words come to mind.

Damn grass‑mud horse…

Upon hearing Pangzi say that, the young people in the hall all sucked in a breath of cold air, stared at me with strange looks, and even the little brother who had handed me the water quietly shifted his feet—while moving his feet he even covered his butt with both hands.

Liu Guozhong was so thunderstruck he couldn't recover; his hand stroking his beard twitched involuntarily, pulling out a strand of beard without his realizing it. His gaze at me and Pangzi was equally bizarre.

Seeing everyone's expression, Pangzi scratched the back of his head in bewilderment and asked, "What's wrong with you all? Did I say something wrong?"

I laughed through tears, shoved Pangzi aside, went up to Liu Guozhong, and respectfully explained the situation.

"Hello, Uncle Liu, I'm QingSongShu's disciple. I grew up not with Pangzi but with Weiqiang, so we're brothers… absolutely not childhood sweethearts; we two are completely normal, totally normal!"

The relationship is too complicated; I can only pose as QingSongShu's disciple to explain. If I say too much, I might just dig myself deeper, and everyone will give me that "we all understand" look—then I'll have no one to cry to.

"Right, we're a pair of good brothers, childhood sweethearts, two‑tots‑no‑guess!" To prove my point, Pangzi roughly slung his arm around my shoulder and announced to everyone with a grin.

I…

At this moment I felt like running straight into a wall and killing myself. Damn it, Wang Da Pang, where did you learn your language all these years? "Childhood sweethearts, two‑tots‑no‑guess" is used to describe brothers?

I feel utterly powerless, completely powerless..