Chapter 2624: People with Exceptional Abilities

With that, he led the group through the manor gate. Li Family Enclosure, true to its name, had originally been polder land—reclaimed by building earthen dikes across the waterways and pumping out the water. The settlement was surrounded by water on three sides, connected to the mainland only by a single long causeway. The wharf sat at the end of this causeway, just outside the South Gate.

Being encircled by water made the enclosure easy to defend and difficult to assault, so no proper walls or ramparts had ever been built. Instead, earthen dikes ringed the perimeter, topped with dense bamboo fencing and punctuated by watchtowers. The guard was quite strict.

Once inside the gate, they walked along a stone-paved road. A few merchants lined either side, but most of the people were local villagers. After less than half a li, they arrived at a brick gatehouse—Li Guangyuan's manor.

A large, leveled threshing ground spread before the manor entrance. It was noon, and a crowd of long-term laborers and manor tenants had gathered beneath an enormous banyan tree, cheering at whatever spectacle was unfolding. Li Guangyuan turned to Luo Heying. "These are the fellows who arrived a few days ago bearing your letter of introduction. I've hired them as instructors. Once the rice ripens, we'll begin training the village militia in earnest."

"Let's have a look first." Luo Heying's eyes gleamed with interest as he strode toward the crowd.

Beneath the banyan tree stood an incense table bearing a tablet inscribed with "Supreme Jade Emperor of the Haotian Golden Palace." Several incense sticks smoldered in the burner, their smoke drifting lazily upward. Before the table stood two men in brown short tunics, black belts cinched at their waists, yellow silk kerchiefs wrapped around their heads. Opposite them was a woman in form-fitting red clothing, her own head covered by a crimson kerchief. At the center of the crowd, another yellow-kerchiefed man had stripped to the waist and was performing Iron Spear Locking Throat.

The performer's muscles bulged across his frame. His hands protected his Dantian, his face flushed blood-red with exertion. The gleaming spearhead pressed against his throat while the red tassel beneath it trembled violently. The shaft bent into an exaggerated arc, its butt end grinding a small pit into the earth. The onlookers watched with wide eyes, sucking in sharp breaths—some terrified, some thrilled, some fervent with excitement. Every face wore a different expression.

After some time, the man relaxed his stance. The crowd exhaled as one, then erupted in shouts of "Wonderful!" He followed with another demonstration called "Impervious to Blades," letting the woman hack at his bare belly with a broadsword. Each strike left only red welts; not a single cut broke the skin. The crowd roared their approval once more.

When the performance concluded, the man caught his breath and clasped his fists in salute to the audience. He was about to speak when a voice rang out from the crowd: "I have a Kun rifle here. I'd like to test the strong man's invulnerability to firearms—if he dares."

The performer started at the challenge, his face twitching slightly. But when he identified the speaker, his expression settled into calm confidence. "Why not?" he said with a smile. "How can the Kun demons' petty tricks compare to the grand path of the Haotian Great Emperor?" He turned to the woman in red. "If I might trouble the Fairy Aunt to cast her spell once more and bestow upon me the talisman water."

The woman smiled faintly without answering, simply setting her round fan on the table. Her hands flipped gracefully, and her right index and middle fingers produced a paper talisman. She formed a seal with her other hand and began to chant: "Enter my gate, honor my god. Lishan Old Mother manifests the True Dao. I teach not the Universal Great Shift, but the Golden Bell to guard your body. Defend the Dao, vanquish demons—stand with righteous courage. When all demons and monsters are slain, return to the mountain..." The rest of her incantation faded into inaudibility. Her hands and feet moved in graceful patterns, almost like a dance. As her hands crossed, the talisman between her fingers ignited with a sudden whoosh. Unhurried, she let it burn nearly to ash before flicking the remnants into a bowl of wine on the table.

While the Fairy Aunt worked her spell, the challenger strode into the circle. It was none other than Luo Hetu, Luo Heying's younger clan brother. He had a dark, round face with a pair of sword-shaped eyebrows slanting upward and red phoenix eyes half-lidded in an expression of casual superiority. His powerful shoulders and back looked ready to burst from his loose straight-collared gown at any moment. Brown hemp shoes adorned his feet, and each step raised dust and gravel, sonorous and forceful, as though he meant to stamp pits into the ground. Several onlookers murmured in admiration: "Now there's a strong man!"

Luo Hetu entered the circle and glanced first at the performer, then swept his narrowed gaze across the watching tenants. He tied up the lower hem of his gown at the waist, revealing a small box hanging there, then unslung the bundle from his back. When he opened it, the crowd saw an Australian Bird Gun and a small leather cartridge case. He slung the case diagonally across his body before picking up the rifle.

The spectators forgot all about the Fairy Aunt's spellcasting, their eyes fixed on the weapon.

The Australian Bird Gun's reputation preceded it. Everyone knew that the bandit firearms were devastatingly effective—but they had only ever heard tell of them, never seen the real thing.

"So that's the Kun thieves' rifle..."

"Looks more refined than a Japanese Bird Gun. Wonder if it actually works."

"Works? Are you stupid? Could it have crushed General He in that rout if it didn't? Could it have taken Commander Xiong's Zhaoqing in just a few days?"

"I heard the bandits all use repeating rifles. How does this one fire in rapid succession?"

"Enough blathering—just watch!"

The crowd buzzed with speculation as they pressed closer around the weapon.

Li Guangyuan's eyebrows rose with delight. He studied the Kun rifle in Luo Hetu's hands, then glanced at Luo Heying, who stood beside him with an air of quiet composure. He hadn't expected that the man he'd invited possessed such capabilities—actually obtaining a Kun firearm. With this rifle, their chances against the Kun thieves had improved considerably.

Monk Haixiang—known as Gou Xunli—hadn't known Luo Heying had a Kun rifle either. He had seen Kun weapons before. At first glance, this one did resemble them, yet something about it seemed subtly different in ways he couldn't articulate. He pushed the thought aside and focused intently on Luo Hetu's movements.

Luo Hetu braced the stock against the ground and gripped the barrel with his left hand. His right hand withdrew a paper cartridge—about two fingers thick—from the leather case and passed it to his left. With a reverse twist, he opened the cartridge's tail end and poured the powder into the barrel. At the bottom of the packet sat a thumb-sized lead bullet, one end rounded and one end flat, which fit snugly into the muzzle. From beneath the barrel, Luo Hetu drew out a thin steel ramrod with burrs on one end and a flat holder on the other. Using the holder, he pushed the bullet down into the barrel, tamped it firmly several times, then slid the ramrod back into its housing. Only then did he hold the rifle at an angle, break open the fire door, and take a small copper percussion cap from the box at his waist. He fitted it over the nipple, then raised the weapon level, stock braced against his shoulder. "Everyone stand clear!" he bellowed. "Now you'll see what the Kun rifle can do!" He swung the barrel toward another banyan tree twenty paces away.

The onlookers who had clustered near the muzzle scattered immediately. One man who had been squatting too long found his legs wouldn't cooperate—he toppled backward onto his rear, but didn't dare linger. He rolled over and scrambled away on all fours. A muffled bang erupted and white smoke billowed from the barrel as the lead ball flew. The crawling man went limp at the sound, collapsing face-down and lying motionless. A moment later, those nearest him caught the sharp stench of urine.

Some curious souls rushed first to check on the fallen man. Finding him unharmed, they sprinted to the target tree and examined it closely. One drew a short knife to probe the hole, then turned and shouted: "Direct hit! Direct hit! The bullet's lodged too deep to pry out!"

The crowd erupted into fresh discussion. Some mentioned having seen government soldiers or Japanese bird guns that required lighting a match cord to fire—this Kun rifle needed no such thing; wouldn't it work in wind and rain? Others recalled that ordinary bird gun bullets could be plucked from tree trunks easily, yet this one couldn't be extracted. Truly fearsome.

Luo Hetu stood tall amid the clamor, casting a sidelong glance at the bare-chested performer. The man remained unmoved, serene as a mountain. He turned to accept the bowl of wine—now infused with talisman ash—from the woman in red. He gulped down more than half, then poured the remainder over his head. After returning the bowl, he held a mouthful of wine, said simply, "Ready," and spat it into his palm with a sharp puff. He slapped his open hand against his chest—the sound rang out like a drumbeat. Then he sank into a Thousand-Jin Drop stance and went utterly still.

Seeing the man had assumed his posture, Luo Hetu walked forward until he stood roughly ten paces away. He braced the stock against the ground once more and drew out the steel ramrod, this time inserting the burred end first. He scraped it back and forth through the barrel several times before loading another cartridge as before. But when he went to seat the bullet, he paused. Instead, he pinched it between two fingers and raised it high overhead. "Everyone look closely!" he shouted. "The Kun bullet may be small, but it's utterly vicious. Once it enters the body, it rots flesh and corrodes bone. There is no cure."

Gasps rippled through the crowd. Luo Hetu pressed the bullet into the barrel with his thumb, tamped it down with the ramrod, fitted the percussion cap, and brought the stock to his shoulder. The onlookers had already cleared away. "Here it comes!" he bellowed, and before the words had fully left his mouth, he pulled the trigger.

The crowd had frozen in anticipation. Timid children hid behind adults, peering out with half-covered faces, not daring to breathe loudly. Some clung to their parents' legs with eyes squeezed shut.

Another muffled bang—followed immediately by a chorus of startled cries. But when they looked at the performer, he still held his Thousand-Jin Drop stance, not having moved a hair's breadth. A slight smile curved the corner of his mouth. A moment later, he opened his lips. The bullet was clenched between his teeth. He spat it out and raised it triumphantly overhead. The crowd was so stunned they couldn't even manage to shout their approval.

Then Master Li's voice boomed beside them: "Magnificent! Magnificent! What divine skill, Instructor Chen! What wondrous magic, Fairy Huang! Bring two more loads of wine for our instructors!" The spell broke, and the crowd erupted in cheers.

Luo Hetu showed no sign of annoyance. He simply collected his rifle, offered Instructor Chen a respectful bow, then retreated silently to stand behind Luo Heying. Luo Heying gave his clan brother a brief nod before turning his smiling gaze back to Instructor Chen and his companions.

(End of Chapter)