Chapter 54: The Fist Is Power

“Great Empress, it is a finger technique,” Zhao Ti said; there was no need to hide it now, as long as he didn’t reveal the origin or name of One Yang Finger.

This grandmother treated him exceptionally well; though he had his own strategy to deal with Zhao Xu, he still didn’t want her to die from internal or external injuries.

Gao Taotao stared at him for a long while: “Where did you get it?”

Zhao Ti replied: “It was taught to me by an unparalleled master who passed through the capital.”

Gao Taotao showed no expression upon hearing this, slowly opened the fruit box on the table, and gazed at the exquisitely crafted, fragrant little moon cakes inside: “Which master was so kind as to teach you a yang-based finger technique? Was he a monk? Or did you sneak off to Shaolin Temple yourself?”

Zhao Ti shook his head and smiled: “Why would I go to Shaolin Temple for no reason? I’ve never left the capital region.”

Gao Taotao said: “Not Shaolin? Only Shaolin possesses the most yang-based palm and finger arts in the world—then…”

She looked up at Zhao Ti, her expression startled: “Did you go to Dali? Did you steal One Yang Finger from the Duan family of Dali?”

Zhao Ti shook his head like a rattle: “I’ve never been there—mountains are high, roads treacherous; why would I go to such distant lands?”

Gao Taotao mused: “Eighth son, you’re thoughtful—but my injury cannot be healed by yang-based arts.”

Zhao Ti pondered: “I noticed your complexion is pale and bluish, and you’re cold to the touch—this is clearly a symptom of yin-cold invading the meridians. The yang-based method would perfectly expel it.”

Gao Taotao laughed: “If you were to treat people, you’d kill ten out of ten. How do you know my yin-cold has invaded my body? If you thought Shaolin’s yang inner force or Dali’s One Yang Finger could cleanse my meridians, I’d die instantly.”

“This…” Zhao Ti paused, realizing it wasn’t what he’d expected. “Then what is your injury?”

Gao Taotao said: “I’m not injured as you imagine. You see my pale face and cold body, but that’s because I’m using yin-cold energy to suppress the injury. The wound itself isn’t serious—it’s been suppressed for many years. Don’t bother with it; even if you wanted to, you couldn’t.”

Zhao Ti felt puzzled, but seeing Gao Taotao didn’t wish to speak further, he merely said: “I understand, Great Empress, please take care of your health.”

Gao Taotao picked up a little moon cake and ate it: “Your household cook is excellent—these pastries are crisp, sweet, and delicate.”

Zhao Ti smiled: “If you like them, I’ll send you more varieties in the future.”

Gao Taotao nodded, then a faint smile appeared at the corner of her mouth: “You’re remarkably composed—you haven’t asked about Taizu’s Long Fist since you entered the room?”

Zhao Ti said: “Since you promised to tell me, why should I rush? You wouldn’t break your word.”

Gao Taotao slowly rose from her chair: “I did promise three days ago to answer your questions, and I won’t go back on it. But first, tell me—how have you progressed with the martial art annotated in the Tiangong treasure?”

Zhao Ti replied: “I’ve gained a little.”

Gao Taotao said: “The Nan Tang Shanhai Guan’s martial arts are vast and profound, encompassing all under heaven. When Emperor Taizong attacked, he expended great effort but failed to eradicate them entirely—some escaped.”

Zhao Ti blinked, thinking his grandmother had never mentioned this in such detail before.

“Escaped?”

Gao Taotao said: “At the time, the Nan Tang crown prince Li Zhongyu had a young son within the Guan. When the Guan fell into chaos, he was rescued by an unparalleled master.”

“There was such a thing?” Zhao Ti frowned slightly.

“After the realm was pacified, Emperor Taizong sent men to search the entire country for twenty years—without result. He likely fled overseas or to another nation.”

Zhao Ti mused: “A hundred years have passed since then—seas have turned to mulberry fields, times have changed. They’re surely just dust now. Even if descendants remain, with the Great Song having ruled for a century, they’d hardly still dream of restoring the Southern Tang.”

Gao Taotao said: “If you didn’t practice martial arts, you wouldn’t know Shanhai Guan. I’d be wasting my breath telling you this. But since you’ve learned Illusion Yin Finger, I must warn you of two things: if you ever encounter someone who practices Shanhai Guan martial arts, be extremely cautious—today, the only ones who still know these arts are likely our Zhao family and the surviving descendants of the Southern Tang Li family.”

Zhao Ti shook his head: “Great Empress, I only know Illusion Yin Finger. I’ve never seen any other vast martial texts—not even the other two powerful ones: the Shan Scripture and the Wuliang Sea Treasure Scroll.”

Gao Taotao said: “Though I don’t know their specifics, they both originated from Shanhai Guan—there may be traces to follow. Keep your eyes open.”

Zhao Ti nodded: “Great Empress, what else should I watch for?”

Gao Taotao thought: “Illusion Yin Finger is also called Illusion Yin Scripture. When mastered, it not only transforms the practitioner’s meridians but also… induces illusions. Beware: at the peak, do not let your mind wander. Do not imagine fantastical things. Hold to your origin, guard your heart—and the illusions will vanish.”

“Hmm?” Zhao Ti narrowed his eyes: “How do you know this?”

Gao Taotao’s expression darkened slightly: “I heard it from Emperor Yingzong!”

Zhao Ti thought inwardly: Didn’t you just say Emperor Yingzong spent years poring over the Tiangong treasure, annotating diligently, yet never reached the final pages?

“I understand.”

The sky grew dark; the hall dimmed. Gao Taotao called in her lady-in-waiting, who lit a six-tiered gilded silver candelabrum, then began setting out the food and wine.

Of course, the little moon cakes were present, along with various infused drinks—seasonal fruits simmered with rock sugar, then chilled and strained. Such drinks were wildly popular in this dynasty, sold even in tea shops outside.

Only four simple dishes: fish, goose, lamb, and one vegetable dish. Three wines: Pu wine, rose dew wine, and Liuxiang wine.

At this moment, the window stood open, revealing a full moon hanging high, its surface faintly showing mountain peaks and palaces, with divine trees suspended in the sky—filling one with longing.

Gao Taotao gazed out the window at the bright moon: “Taizu’s Long Fist truly has thirty-three postures!”

Zhao Ti drew a breath: “Great Empress, how so?”

Gao Taotao set down her cup, fell silent for a moment, then spoke again after fifteen breaths: “At the end of the Five Dynasties and Spring and Autumn period, heroes emerged in abundance—it was a time of Fengyunjuhui , when warlords vied for supremacy.”

Zhao Ti nodded. The heroes of the Five Dynasties and Spring and Autumn were countless; over seventy years, they changed like a revolving lantern, each shining brilliantly.

“Emperor Taizu’s martial arts were such that, at the end of that era, he roamed the Jianghu, and his thirty-three-posture Long Fist had no equal.”

“Great Empress, is Taizu’s Long Fist truly that powerful? Even missing one posture, it should still be a divine art—yet since childhood, I’ve trained it and never felt anything extraordinary.”

Gao Taotao’s gaze grew distant: “You’re right—it’s still a divine art even without one posture. How could it compare to ordinary boxing styles?”

“Then why is it so ordinary today? And how was that one posture lost…” Zhao Ti frowned.

Gao Taotao’s eyes seemed drawn to the moonlight outside as she slowly said: “Do you know what a fist is?”

Zhao Ti pondered: “Great Empress, what is a fist?”

Gao Taotao’s voice echoed hollowly: “A fist—fist is power.”

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