"Shaolin? The real ones should all be dead," Li Mei whispered. "The main temple burned down years ago."

  "Not quite," Norbu said.

  Norbu came forward. His hand loose at his side, fingers slightly curled. No wasted motion. His footsteps made only the lightest tap on the stone floor.

  He moved towards Daniel, and for some reason Daniel knew what he was about to do. It wasn't instinct, it was more of a feeling you get when you've watched a fight over and over till you had a faint impression of what was going to happen, even when you weren't looking.

  Daniel stepped towards him. Li Mei watched from behind, hesitating whether she should intervene. Daniel could see that even for her this was dangerous in a way the others were not.

  Norbu didn't say anything more. Daniel had expected words. Some acknowledgment, some recognition like the other fighters, but there was nothing else. Just his name. He didn't seem talkative like the rest. Or perhaps, he had already said everything he needed to say, and there was nothing but fighting left to be done.

  They both moved at the same time. Norbu raised his palm up as if in prayer and moved with tremendous force, the wind swirling around his robes but before he could complete the movement.

  Daniel's hand found the same spot Norbu had been targeting. The heart. Norbu's skin was cool through his robes. His pulse beat once against Daniel's palm.

  Then stopped.

  Norbu's eyes went flat. His mouth moved, shaping words that didn't come. A sound escaped his throat, soft, like a question that would never be answered.

  He dropped. His body hit the stone and didn't move, hand still half-raised toward a target he'd never reach.

  The courtyard had gone still. Daniel stood over the body, looking down at the man's face. Peaceful. Surprised, maybe. Like he'd been interrupted mid-thought.

  Nothing marked what had killed him. His heart had just stopped.

  Dong Chi-wai stared at Daniel from his seat at the table. His hand went to the tabletop, steadying himself. The tea he'd been drinking sat untouched, steam long gone. His mouth opened. Closed. Words came out in shock.

  "How…How do you know the Vajra Subduing Palm?"

  Daniel didn't notice. He was looking at his own hand, turning it over in the red lantern light. The knuckles were scraped raw. He flexed his fingers and watched them move, distant, like they belonged to someone else.

  Li Mei stepped up beside him. Shoulder to shoulder.

  "He's with me," she said.

  Dong Chi-wai looked at what remained of his people. Several hadn't recovered and were laying around. One dead. His tongue ran across his teeth.

  "This isn't over."

  "It is tonight." Li Mei's voice was flat. "And if you don't want to die, you know what to do."

  For a long moment no one moved. Water dripped somewhere in the dark. The lanterns creaked on their hooks, swaying slow.

  Dong Chi-wai looked at Daniel, then at Li Mei, then back again. His mouth worked like he was chewing on something he couldn't swallow.

  Then he turned and walked away. His people followed, gathering up the ones who couldn't walk on their own. Wong Kei-lung had to be carried between two of them, his leg dragging behind him like something that no longer belonged to his body. Then they were gone, footsteps fading into the night.

  They left Norbu where he lay.

  The courtyard was silent now. Somewhere a door closed. A lock clicked. The buildings around them were going dark, one by one.

  "We should go," Li Mei said.

  Daniel was still looking at his hand.

  "Daniel."

  He looked up. Li Mei's face was half in shadow, half in red light.

  He nodded. Stepped over the body.

  They walked toward the alley. The air was cold and wet against his skin, closing in behind them as they moved.

  Neither of them spoke.

  Behind them, Norbu stared at nothing. The lanterns swung overhead, creaking on their hooks, and the water kept dripping in the dark.

  The moon was high.

  Li Mei walked half a step ahead, her boots clicking a steady beat on the sidewalk. They were laced on the top with an intricate knot. Fashionable, if fashion could kill.

  Her eyes stayed forward, fixed on nothing.

  Daniel thought back to what he saw back there at the courtyard.

  The Vajra Subduing Palm. That's what the guy had called it, but how did he use it before he did? It was as if he could see the future and had finished the movement, out of reflex. It also didn't look like anything from the films. Was it even the real Vajra Subduing Palm or was it an imitation?

  And also more importantly, he had just killed someone. And yet, it didn't feel real at all. As if the motions were done by someone else, as if he were piloting himself from somewhere remote, looking overhead like a player in a video game. One second, he had been joking, even playing with those other fighters. Now, nothing. He had just killed someone without batting an eye.

  Why don't I feel anything?

  And that was the part that bothered him.

  It never occurred to him that he would have to kill anyone.

  Yeah, he guessed it did cross his mind a time or two, but he had always held back at the last moment. A fraction of a second before a fist or claw would have ended a person right there and then.

  A dog barked from behind a chain-link fence and the city pressed close with its usual smells as they walked, salt mixed with fish and unwashed garbage.

  "You're quiet," Li Mei said.

  "Thinking."

  "Don't."

  A shuttered grocery slid past on their left. Crates of yesterday's vegetables stacked by the door, wilting, leaves gone translucent at the edges. A car hummed along it's lights blinking at the corner. Right turn. The city continuing without pause.

  His sneakers squelched with each step. Cold seeping through to his socks. Was there blood on his shirt? From what? Was it someone else's or his own. Hard to tell in the dark.

  "I killed someone," he said.

  "Yes."

  "I thought I'd feel more."

  Li Mei stopped walking.

  The streetlight above them buzzed, flickered, cast their shadows long and uncertain across the wet pavement.

  "More what?" No change in her voice. Flat. Factual.

  The word didn't come easy. Guilt? Horror? Revulsion?

  Something that matched what he'd been told his whole life he should feel after taking a life.

  "Just something more."

  She studied him. The streetlight caught half her face, one eye visible, dark and still, the other lost in shadow.

  "There is nothing more to it," she said, pausing. "If there was would you not have done it?"

  There was a question.

  "Maybe?"

  "Or you could be the one dead, and he could be alive," said Li Mei, "Would that make you feel any better?"

  "Not really."

  "Then stop asking yourself questions that don't have answers."

  Behind them, a car passed. Headlights swept through the fog, there and gone, leaving the darkness. Engine sound fading into nothing. A siren wailed in the distance.

  Li Mei started walking.

  He fell into step. The fog closed behind them, erasing their path. Old buildings pressing close on either side here, the street narrowing.

  "First time I killed someone, I was twelve."

  Her voice, not her face. She didn't look back. Just kept walking, boots clicking on wet concrete.

  "Kitchen knife." She stepped around a puddle without breaking stride. "They came at me, and my dad wasn't around. Couldn't eat for two days after. Couldn't sleep for a week."

  Daniel's feet kept moving. One step, then another. The fog sat on his skin, cold and damp.

  Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  A neon sign flickered ahead, Chinese characters in red and gold advertising something. Medicine, maybe. The tube buzzed and popped, one character going dark, then struggling back to life.

  A racoon watched them from a fire escape. Yellow eyes, gray fur matted on one side. It didn't move as they passed beneath it.

  "What happened?"

  "I got over it." Another step. Another. "Second time was easier. Third time, nothing."

  A corner turned. A door opened down the block, spilling light and Cantonese radio into the street, a woman's voice singing something old and sad, then closed again.

  "You're worried because you don't feel anything," Li Mei said. "Don't. If someone tries to kill you. You kill them. It's that simple."

  Her tone made it simple. A fact like any other fact. The sky is blue. Water is wet. You killed a man and you're fine.

  "I guess that makes sense?"

  "Accept it," she said.

  "During the fight," Daniel said. "When we stopped colliding."

  "Mm."

  "How did you know where I'd be?"

  "I didn't." Something in her voice that wasn't quite amusement. "You kept getting in my way."

  "But then it worked."

  "You just got better." Her shoulders lifted, barely visible shrug. "What did you need some praise? You did good."

  "Is there a name for that?"

  "The skill? Common sense? Coordination. Instinct." Brief glance in his direction. "Whatever you want to call it."

  An intersection he recognized. Boarded-up bookstore on one corner, plywood over the windows tagged with faded graffiti. A laundromat on the other, machines still tumbling behind fogged glass, pale light spilling onto the sidewalk in a rectangle.

  This is where he'd stopped with Henry after running from the police. After Li Mei had tried to slice him open with a real sword.

  His street was three blocks east. Li Mei's path went the other way. Whatever path Li Mei walked, it wasn't one she'd share.

  She stopped.

  Fog drifted between them. A truck rumbled over a pothole in the distance.

  "Now you know what the world looks like. This is Jianghu. This is Wulin. Kill or be killed. Fight or die." Her voice carried no particular weight. "You're welcome."

  He nodded. He'd expected this.

  She stood there a moment longer. Face unreadable. The scratch on her cheek, the damp hair, the eyes that gave nothing away.

  "The man you killed was probably a bit famous."

  He waited.

  "I figured."

  "Good." She turned to go, then paused, her profile sharp against the fog. The streetlight caught the edge of her cheek. "You handled yourself well tonight. Don't make me regret saying that."

  Then she walked into the night.

  Her footsteps faded. The fog swallowed her shape, her shadow, the sound of her boots on concrete. Nothing left but the intersection, the laundromat thumping, the cold seeping through his shoes.

  He stood there for a while. Thinking it over.

  "Yeah, I guess killing someone is no big deal."

  The library opened at nine. Back to research again.

  Daniel got there at eight-forty. Sat on the concrete steps with his back against the railing, watching the morning trucks rattle past. His legs ached. His shoulders felt like someone had packed sand into the joints.

  A pigeon landed near his feet, pecked at nothing, and then flew off.

  At nine the doors unlocked. The librarian nodded at him as she passed. She knew his face by now.

  He signed his name on the clipboard in the same slot he always took. The pencil was dull. An old man shuffled past with a stack of Chinese newspapers. The sports section on top, a basketball player mid-jump.

  Nine o'clock. Terminal claimed.

  RisingPhoenix was right about things becoming more dangerous. Only, it was already dangerous. He just didn't even know all the danger that was already there.

  Wulin? Jianghu?

  There was already a fully functioning martial underworld.

  Back to the forums. He needed more information.

  The monitor hummed as it warmed up, that high-pitched CRT whine that faded into background if you sat long enough. Screen flickering blue, then white, then settling. Fingers finding the keys by memory, logging into the chatroom.

  Fourteen users online. Conversation already moving. BrokenBamboo: So, what are our thoughts on bullet protection? Number one on the how-not-to-die list in the modern world. Nukes and missiles aside.

  WulinCrane66: When talking about bullet protection. The Boxer Rebellion keeps coming up in my notes.

  This is back in the 1900s during China's century of humiliation when Britain, France, Germany, Russia, US, Japan, Italy, and Austria-Hungary crushed China and forced it into unequal treaties.

  Thousands of starving and displaced peasants launched an uprising to force foreigners out, believing their techniques made them bulletproof. Any thoughts on whether the actual techniques were real or something we could learn from?

  BrokenBamboo: Did you just list like the entire western world. Did the world just say fuck you to China in the 1900s and obliterate it.

  WulinCrane66: In short answer. Yes. Hence, why Japan was able to nearly conquer China in World War II. It was practically obliterated as a national entity by then. It's actually quite impressive, like if the Philippines was able to conquer most of mainland USA.

  MoonlessSky: even so, avoiding the geopolitics, it's hard to separate the martial from the myth with the boxers.

  WulinCrane66: True. The Yìhéquán. They were doing spirit possession rituals. Chanting, fasting, talismans. They believed gods entered their bodies during trance states. Looking at the sources more closely this is more eastern witchcraft than qi.

  MoonlessSky: right. the invulnerability claim wasn't from physical conditioning. it was religious. they thought the spirits made them immune.

  LaughingSword: and then they met Maxim guns.

  BitterTea: (′；ω；`) thousands of them. some were just children.

  WulinCrane66: The tragedy is some survived the early skirmishes. Glancing hits, poor ammunition, luck. And it reinforced the belief. If I'm not dead, the magic must be working.

  BrokenBamboo: so when they met the main army of the Eight-Nation Alliance...

  WulinCrane66: They died. The survivors blamed improper rituals, not the techniques.

  RisingPhoenix72: But there's a separate question here. The spirit possession was probably nonsense, but what about physical conditioning? Don't we have legendary defensive techniques in our repertoire? Surely, there are some records out there in history?

  DrunkenScholar: Iron Shirt. Golden Bell. That's documented separately from the Boxer claims. And then there's Shaolin's legendary Indestructible Diamond Body which makes you immune to everything.

  WulinCrane66: If we're talking about this, the British military reports from the 1800s describe Chinese fighters taking sword cuts without bleeding. Multiple accounts. Different observers. This predates the Rebellion. There are also martial demonstrations with swords and spears.

  LaughingSword: "documented" by colonial officers writing home. not exactly rigorous.

  DrunkenScholar: better than nothing. and we have demonstration footage from the modern era. masters letting people strike them with poles, press blades against their skin.

  BrokenBamboo: but those demonstrations are controlled. the swords move slow and are probably blunt. no one's actually trying to stab them.

  JadeBeauty95: My sifu showed me video of a Golden Bell practitioner. A man pressed a spear point against his throat and pushed. The skin pressed in but didn't break.

  LaughingSword: skin resistance isn't bullet resistance.

  JadeBeauty95: No one's claiming it is.

  RisingPhoenix72: The biggest issue is that these techniques were developed for blades and we're worried about guns. Guns are on a whole different tier of power. Not to mention any force multipliers above that.

  Bullet Immunity to a .50 caliber anti-tank round for example is a whole magnitude higher than being bulletproof to a .22 handgun. Even if we mastered these moves, it's no guarantee of true bullet immunity as we know it.

  BitterTea: that means even in the best case, we're training with methods for a world that doesn't exist anymore. guns changed everything. (′-ω-`) this is unfair.

  MoonlessSky: so why bother?

  BrokenBamboo: we have no choice, unless you just want to die.

  WulinCrane66: Then we're back to square one. The best is probably to figure out a way of avoiding bullets in the first place. Some increased sensitivity to threat.

  Daniel stretched out his fingers and started to type.

  HiddenDragon88: What about starting with basics first? Before we worry about bullets.

  BitterTea: Oh? HiddenDragon decided to show up? (′?`)

  HiddenDragon88: Been working on something. Six moves. A framework for being a complete fighter.

  LaughingSword: six moves. that's it? that's your system?

  HiddenDragon88: Well, it's not so much as a system as it's just a fighting kit. How do you survive the regular threats. I put it at six categories. Attack, defense, movement, plus specialized techniques as goals to work towards.

  BrokenBamboo: go on.

  HiddenDragon88: Grappling. A Power strike. Redirection. Precision striking. Evasive movement. Enhanced mobility.

  RisingPhoenix72: That's actually coherent. What techniques fit each category?

  HiddenDragon88: It's stuff out of the movies, so bear with me if they sound fanciful. It's Tiger Claw for grappling. Ghost Step for evasion. Pressure points for precision. Those I've figured out or at least have an idea of it.

  LaughingSword: "figured out." you tested these?

  HiddenDragon88: Yes.

  LaughingSword: on who?

  HiddenDragon88: People who needed testing on.

  DrunkenScholar: lmao.

  BrokenBamboo: what are the other three?

  HiddenDragon88: Vajra Subduing Palm for power. Push Hands for defense. Ladder Cloud Step for mobility. Still stuck on those.

  MoonlessSky: ladder cloud step. you're joking.

  LaughingSword: That's…isn't that more legendary than Shaolin's Diamond Body? It's practically a myth, you're either crazy or stupid.

  BitterTea: don't be mean! at least he's trying things (｀ε′)

  LaughingSword: I'm not being mean. This is on the level of King Arthur's Excalibur. Only celestial deities claim to walk on the clouds.

  RisingPhoenix72: Let's focus on the realistic ones first. At least this is more concrete than spending time debating over stuff we can't fix. Push Hands is documented. Vajra Subduing Palm has historical basis. We can discuss Ladder Cloud Step later.

  Daniel shifted in his chair.

  BrokenBamboo: Push Hands. Tui Shou. What do we actually know about it?

  WulinCrane66: I've posted about this before, but my sources derive from manuscripts attributed to the Nangong Clan. Ming dynasty, possibly earlier.

  They were a rather famous clan back in the day, but like most of our sources, whatever is left of them is either legend or missing. The diagrams show two practitioners standing with forearms in contact, circular arrows indicating the path of pressure exchange.

  LaughingSword: you have ming dynasty manuscripts?

  WulinCrane66: Reproductions. I'm a post-graduate student not a thief. The originals are in private collections.

  LaughingSword: convenient.

  WulinCrane66: The text explaining the internal method is water damaged. What survives mentions four basic steps. The main one is something called ting jin. Listening energy. But the actual instructions are illegible.

  MoonlessSky: pictures without instructions. great.

  DrunkenScholar: wait, listening energy? my aikido instructor talked about something like that called it musubi. blending with your partner's energy.

  WulinCrane66: Interesting. Can you elaborate?

  DrunkenScholar: so you grab at the wrist, right? katate-dori. but the grab isn't about holding them in place. you're feeling where they want to go. before they know they want to go there.

  DrunkenScholar: sensei used to say "listen with your skin, not your ears"

  LaughingSword: or it's a completely different thing that sounds similar if you squint hard enough.

  SilentMountain: chi sao.

  LaughingSword: what?

  SilentMountain: Wing Chun has chi sao. Sticky hands. Forearms touching, rolling back and forth. You feel for gaps.

  DrunkenScholar: see? same thing again.

  LaughingSword: or three different things that involve touching arms. shocking coincidence for grappling.

  BrokenBamboo: you have a better theory?

  LaughingSword: my theory is we don't know what we don't know, and we shouldn't assume things are correct unless we know for sure. There are a lot of stories of people going crazy. And I think honestly we've been lucky none of us has experienced any of the mental issues a lot of these practices say can happen. Qi deviation can't be fake if nearly all of our sources claim it exists in one way or another.

  WulinCrane66: Perhaps, there is a way we can do this safely and be somewhat sure it works. It could be what we are seeing is something like convergent evolution? If we take that as the core. With some experimentation you can work something out?

  LaughingSword: What? Why are we bringing up biology?

  WulinCrane66: I mean to say that when there is a need. Things tend to arrive at the same conclusion, even if they have different starting points. Crab theory.

  Things having a crab shape, but are not actually genetically real crabs, because it's most efficient. Bat wings and bird wings. Animals tend to evolve in a direction when there is a niche or need. Martial arts probably fit the same scenario.

  DrunkenScholar: In that case, in aikido and chi sao might have practices that overlap. And if they are the same, they have a higher degree of being correct for Push Hands because they were developed to fulfill the same need?

  WulinCrane66: exactly.

  BitterTea: so you don't need qi to start? (′?ω?`)

  DrunkenScholar: Possibly? But didn't JadeBeauty train Tui Shou before? What are your thoughts miss?

  JadeBeauty95: It all sounds pretty plausible to figure things out through similar training methods. But mind you I learned Push Hands when I was a kid. I've never really been that good at it. So, I sort of stopped. Also, the version I had was extremely simple. It didn't have a thing called Listening Energy when I was using it.

  DrunkenScholar: So, most likely also a dead end. Probably an incomplete method passed down.

  JadeBeauty95: Probably.

  A child ran past the computers, dropping one of the books they were carrying on the carpet. A rabbit in a blue coat.

  Daniel stared at it for a moment. Something about the image struck a nerve with him. A rabbit dressed up, pretending to be human. Two button eyes staring back at him through the cover.

  A mother walked past, trailing the child who'd dropped it. Neither of them noticed.

  He looked back at the screen.