Volume One: Blood-Stained Frostwind Chapter 2: Shi Wu's Fist Strikes the Playboy

Among the crowd, Aunt Ma, who had always been close to Shuangjiu and his mother, saw the situation and inwardly lamented. She quickly turned and ran to the mill to find Shuangjiu’s mother.

Inside the enclosure, as soon as Shuangjiu took his stance, Jing Mingying seized the initiative and threw a punch toward Shuangjiu.

Shuangjiu had practiced handstands and running for years, undeterred by wind or rain, which had made his arms incredibly strong and his body sturdy like a young calf.

His current master, Yu Molian, had been a fighting prodigy since childhood. During his police academy days, he mastered various combat techniques and won several fighting championships. Therefore, Shuangjiu showed no fear facing Jing Mingying.

In contrast, Jing Mingying, despite towering half a head above Shuangjiu, was a pampered weakling with tender skin, whose body had been drained by indulgence. After a few rounds, he was already gasping for breath, clearly exhausted.

Jing Mingying kept throwing punches, while Shuangjiu used a sanda-style guard to protect his chest, face, and jaw, skillfully dodging back and forth, draining his opponent’s stamina.

After throwing several punches without landing a single hit, Jing Mingying’s energy gave out, and his movements slowed noticeably.

Seeing the opportunity, Shuangjiu circled to Jing Mingying's side and landed a punch on his left rib. Jing Mingying clutched the spot in pain and cursed loudly.

When his opponent’s guard opened wide, exposing his chin, Shuangjiu immediately unleashed a heavy uppercut aimed at Jing Mingying’s jaw.

Anyone familiar with combat knows the chin houses a rich network of the vagus nerve; a powerful strike there can cause instant unconsciousness.

“You bastard, you...”

“Smack!”

The punch was as swift as the wind, sweat flying in all directions. Shuangjiu’s uppercut landed heavily on Jing Mingying’s jaw. Jing Mingying felt his chin jolted fiercely upward, his vision darkened, and he staggered backward several steps, nearly falling.

“Who would’ve thought! Shuangjiu’s really something!”

“The main wife’s boy is useless; Jing Mingying’s just a big guy with no skill.”

“Hmph, the son of Lady Luo Ying isn’t much better.”

Among the onlookers, murmurs of praise and derision rose in turn. Enraged, Jing Mingying stormed toward the railing, snatched a riding crop hanging there, and swung it at Shuangjiu.

The riding crop lashed down like raindrops, forcing Shuangjiu to retreat repeatedly. Cornered, with no escape, he bore several whip marks across his body.

Just as a smug smile crept onto Mingying’s lips, Shuangjiu dodged the riding crop, stepped in close, grabbed Mingying’s right wrist with both hands, and applied a cross arm lock, lifting his legs to trap Mingying’s arm, using his body weight to slam him to the ground and lock him firmly.

The cross arm lock is one of the six major MMA submissions and a powerful weapon in ground combat, a specialty of Shuangjiu’s master Yu Molian.

When attacking, the assailant grips one of the opponent’s arms tightly against his body, clamps it between his legs, and presses his thighs against the opponent’s neck and chest, forming a cross shape.

Then, using leverage and hip thrusts, the attacker applies immense pressure on the opponent’s elbow, leading to dislocation or strain.

The power of the cross arm lock is crushing, suffocating like a mountain pressing down, leaving the victim helpless.

Trapped in this hold, the opponent is like a lamb awaiting slaughter or a stone crushed underfoot, with no chance of escape.

“Smack!”

“Ah!”

With a sudden burst of force, Shuangjiu dislocated Mingying’s right arm. The searing pain made Mingying cry out, struggling fiercely, kicking wildly on the ground, drawing chaotic lines in the dirt.

Despite several attempts, Mingying could not break free from Shuangjiu’s iron grip and remained trapped, unable to turn over.

---

Shuangjiu maintained his grip without the slightest slack, coiling around Mingying like a python. Mingying gasped, groaned, and rolled his eyes back; after a few breaths, he fainted, limbs splayed, collapsing onto the mud.

“Ah!”

Jing Mingluan screamed in terror, her face drained of color. Servants hurriedly lifted Jing Mingying and fanned him incessantly.

“Good!”

A disciple from a sect in the crowd shouted approval but was immediately silenced by his master.

The Zhao family, led by Madame Zhao and her children, had long been arrogant and disdainful of others, fostering resentment among the Jing family’s younger generation and various martial heroes.

Though many martial artists watching refrained from showing support out of respect for Madame Zhao, they admired Shuangjiu’s fearless spirit and his strangely agile, effective fighting style.

“This youth’s moves are strange, but practical,” Gu Wenze quietly thought, casting a look of approval at Shuangjiu.

The other Jing family children looked at Shuangjiu with new eyes, surprised that the usually mute fool had performed so well today.

Meanwhile, at the mill, He Guifang was summoned by Aunt Ma. After learning the situation, she first showed relief that her son was unharmed, but then her face clouded with worry. She hurriedly apologized to Jing Mingying and Jing Mingluan.

“My son is ignorant and has offended you noble guests. Please be magnanimous and spare him.”

“Bah!”

Jing Mingluan placed her hands on her hips, pointed at He Guifang, and scolded, “A crooked beam gives crooked support; a lowly servant is still a lowly servant. No wonder her son is so ill-mannered!”

He Guifang dared not retort and bowed deeply, just as she was about to kneel. Shuangjiu pulled her up forcefully.

Seeing his mother insulted, Shuangjiu’s eyes blazed, and he shouted, “Lowly servant? Who are you calling that?”

“Lowly servant is what you are!” Jing Mingluan shouted back, provoking laughter around them. After a moment’s thought, her cheeks flushed crimson.

“Damn it! This fool is not only no longer a fool but has a cunning mind too!”

Glaring at Shuangjiu, Jing Mingluan gritted her teeth, sensing that this boy was no longer the pushover and plaything he once was.

“Old Master Jin, thank you,” Shuangjiu silently vowed, looking up to the sky.

“Just wait until my brother returns. Then we’ll settle accounts!” Jing Mingluan pointed angrily at Shuangjiu and his mother.

The “brother” she mentioned was her eldest son, Jing Mingpeng, four years older than her and Jing Mingying. Born of Madame Zhao, he excelled in the Luo Ying sword technique and remote sword control, a formidable martial artist and a rising star of the Jing family’s second generation.

A few days prior, Jing Mingpeng had gone to a neighboring county to inspect the family’s shops and was expected back soon.

Then Jing Mingluan turned to a servant and ordered, “Lai Fu, pick a fine horse from the stable and give it to Miss Gu.”

“Wenze, I’m taking Mingying to the medical hall. Excuse me.”

“No problem, sister, you go ahead.” Gu Wenze spoke softly, concern etched between her brows. After days of Jing Mingying’s harassment, she finally felt some relief.

Jing Mingluan nodded, bowed in farewell, and led the servants carrying Jing Mingying toward the inner city.

Watching them leave, He Guifang stood frozen, unsure what to do. She looked at her beloved son with deep worry. “Son, you’ve really stirred up a hornet’s nest this time!”

---

Shuangjiu helped his mother up, his gaze steady and determined. “Mother, don’t worry. From now on, I won’t let anyone bully us again!”

Tears welled in He Guifang’s eyes as she looked up at her son, now half a head taller than herself. She smiled warmly, feeling proud. “My son has grown up!”

“Brother Shuangjiu, does it hurt?”

A sweet, clear child’s voice sounded beside him. Shuangjiu looked down to see an adorable little girl.

The girl was five years old, named Jing Xiaohua, Shuangjiu’s little sister, the 108th child of Jing Bo. She loved to follow Shuangjiu everywhere, was very close to him, often making flower wreaths and braiding his hair, and always shared her treats with him.

Xiaohua wore a simple pink dress, her hair tied in buns, with straight bangs framing a round, rosy face like a little red apple. Her large, watery eyes blinked up and down as she stared at the whip marks on Shuangjiu’s hand, her small teeth showing in a pained, sympathetic expression.

She reached out pudgy, delicate hands to gently cradle Shuangjiu’s large hand, tenderly stroking the wounds and softly blowing warm breath on them, as if that could ease his pain. Her earnest sweetness instantly melted hearts.

Xiaohua’s mother, Aunt Ma, had originally been the wet nurse for Jing Bo’s seventieth concubine. One day, while nursing in the chambers, Jing Bo happened upon her.

Seeing her attractive figure with full curves and ample bosom, he was suddenly inspired, and that daughter was born.

Like Shuangjiu’s mother, Aunt Ma had never formally married into the family. Though living in the outer city, her treatment was somewhat better than Shuangjiu’s family, and she often helped them over the years.

In Shuangjiu’s memories, when his mother once suffered a persistent fever from a cold, if not for Aunt Ma spending money and pleading to bring a fortress doctor to treat her, his mother might not have survived.

Now, in this cold and heartless stone fortress, Aunt Ma and Xiaohua were the only ones who treated Shuangjiu and his mother as family, giving them warmth and affection.

“Brother doesn’t hurt! These little scratches aren’t even worth mentioning!”

As Shuangjiu spoke, Xiaohua was already wrapping his hand with a handkerchief. Seeing how cute and sensible his little sister was, Shuangjiu gently touched her adorable, plump face, filled with affection, and lifted her into his arms, heading to the stables.

“Come on, I’ll take you to ride the big horse!”

“Yay! Riding the big horse! Haha, Brother Shuangjiu is the best!”

Before the words finished, Xiaohua puckered her lips and kissed Shuangjiu’s cheek.

“Be careful, don’t let your sister fall!” He Guifang muttered anxiously, while Aunt Ma stood nearby with a simple smile, looking unconcerned.

“Don’t worry, she won’t fall!” Shuangjiu waved his hand and continued toward the stables.

“Oh, Shuangjiu, have you finished your chores?”

“I’ll do more later. Playing a little won’t cause the sky to fall, right, Xiaohua?”

“Mm-hmm! That’s right, Brother Shuangjiu! Hahaha!”

Held high above his head, Xiaohua nodded eagerly, her eyes squinting with delight as she laughed innocently and happily.