Секретный агент Винд Бой

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He was beginning to understand the name Xinghun; it meant a ghostly shadow that appeared in the night.

Three years it is. He didn't want to be an assassin, much less a rat hiding in the shadows. He might as well make the best of it. After all, he had Shadow Brother behind him.

"Where do you pee and poop?"

There's a side chamber over there.

He walked through the two-bedroom, one-living room apartment with a single bathroom in just ten minutes. Xinghun stopped moving and sat down next to the man in blue, asking him to tell a story like a child would: "Master, it's just the two of us now, let's talk for a while."

"You're not going to catch some sparrows for me to practice my lightness skill, are you?" Xinghun's mind was filled with thoughts of the methods Xiaolongnu taught Yang Guo to practice martial arts. He looked around and saw that the sleeping place was a wooden bed, not a jade bed.

You'll find out tomorrow. You can sleep tonight.

Xinghun felt there was something mysterious in the man in blue's words. Suddenly, his hair stood on end. Could it be that he wouldn't be able to sleep at all starting tomorrow? He stood up and yawned, "Good night, Master. Your little disciple is going to bed."

Lying in bed, he touched his feet, unable to fall asleep.

His secret was there, a secret discovered by accident.

He truly admired the person who made the mark; they had imprinted a flower, a small, blood-red flower, on the sole of his foot. This reminded him of the vibrant, blood-red flower he had picked when passing through the underworld. Was it a birthmark in his reincarnation?

What did this secret mark mean? Xinghun was very curious about the identity of this new body. Slowly getting used to his tiny arms and legs, Xinghun sighed. Growing up was impossible, and this wasn't so bad. Children are always the most deceiving. For example, after he regained consciousness, he pretended to be a fool for almost a year, and no one noticed.

He remembered the shadow who had sent him into the valley. It had left him among a group of children and then vanished, yet it kept nagging in his ear. Why had Brother Shadow sent a fool into the valley, and why had the people there tolerated him for eight or nine months before deciding to send him to the Peony Garden? It was all the stranger that way.

Will Brother Shadow be able to get into this underground grave? Will Master Qingyi, who is skilled in light-footed martial arts and hidden weapons, discover it? Xinghun suddenly felt that the days ahead might not be as boring as he had imagined.

Blind Men and an Elephant

When the lights went out, Xinghun became blind.

He lay quietly in the darkness, finally able to get a good night's sleep. He had barely slept a single restful night in the valley that year. His curiosity about his body, his curiosity about the world, and his constant vigilance kept him on his toes.

The master in blue had already left the stone chamber, seemingly intending for him to adapt to the darkness and solitude on his own.

Fear is amplified many times over in the dark. Resistance is weakened when you can't see. Just like in horror movies, thrilling scenes happening in broad daylight feel rather uninteresting.

The boundless darkness exerted an invisible pressure. Perhaps Master Qingyi's methods of training disciples were just as perverse as his own. Xinghun felt a little sorry for him; Master Qingyi's skin had given him his first real experience with vampires.

It's too cruel for a child. Xinghun smiled slightly, yawned, and thought idly. He really liked this darkness and quiet, feeling safe and comfortable. Was he a little twisted too?

Just as he was about to enjoy his first peaceful sleep after entering the valley, he sensed another person in the room and reflexively held his breath.

Shadow Brother's ethereal voice rang out calmly: "I knew you wouldn't let us down and would successfully enter the valley to learn your skills."

The shadow sighed softly.

Who are you? Who am I? Do you... know the secret of the soles of my feet? Who came up with this twisted method to make him squeeze onto the single-plank bridge? What would happen if I died at the hands of a group of seven or eight-year-old children? A barrage of questions rushed into his mind, and he simply exhaled the air he had been holding: "Aren't you afraid that Master Qingyi will find out about you?"

“He won’t stay here for the first three nights. He’s very stubborn; he only thinks you’re qualified to be his apprentice if you can stay here alone for three nights.”

What did the shadow's voice sound like? Xinghun thought it was a forced, strained voice, very gentle, like a duck's. He burst out laughing. "What are you doing here?"

"I'll teach you internal skills."

Xinghun thought for a moment and then asked, "It doesn't have to be the Sunflower Manual, the Wedding Dress Divine Skill will do!"

"What are the Sunflower Manual and the Wedding Dress Divine Skill?"

"One was trained by a eunuch, and the other was trained for someone else!"

The shadow was silent for a moment before saying, "I knew you wouldn't be an idiot!"

"But I can't remember anything from before."

"It's better not to remember the past! From now on, it's all up to fate." There was a hint of melancholy in the shadow's voice.

"Who are you?" Xinghun finally asked.

"Me? I am a shadow, a shadow that cannot appear before people. I promised someone that I would teach you skills..."

"Revenge?" Xinghun almost blurted out the second half of that line often seen in TV dramas. "Your martial arts are quite good, why can't you teach me? Why are you leaving me in this valley?"

"inconvenient!"

These words nearly made Xinghun jump out of bed, pointing at Yingzi and yelling that he was out of his mind. Since entering the valley, he had walked a tightrope between life and death countless times, and had almost been sent to the Peony Courtyard to be publicly shamed. Xinghun coldly looked at Yingzi, sneering that he would never accept this favor from him. Regardless of what their relationship was in this life.

The shadow seemed unwilling to linger, tossing down a scroll as if throwing away a heavy burden: "Many people want this Heavenly Vein Inner Scripture, so practice it well."

"Why don't you practice?" No one eats the plums by the roadside, not because passersby know the rules, but because they are sour and don't taste good. Xinghun understands this principle.

The shadow was very frank: "I've been watching for six years and haven't seen anything. Maybe... you can.

Xinghun laughed. "Maybe this thing belongs to my family, so maybe... they left me here, sparing my life so I could know secrets you can't. It's just a pity I was such an idiot before."

"Aren't you afraid I'll go berserk from practicing recklessly?" What Xinghun really wanted to say was, if I go berserk, wouldn't you be even less likely to get this secret?

"It's your luck that you were able to leave the building, and it's also your luck whether you can succeed in your training. This is all I can do for you now. Your master in green had this bad habit before accepting disciples, which is why I was able to come in... that's also your luck."

Before Xinghun could process everything the shadow had said, his mind filled with countless questions and confusion, the shadow had already left without a second thought. For six years, the shadow had stayed with him in the valley for a year. Xinghun was certain that during that year, the shadow knew absolutely nothing about the secret of the soles of his feet—he hadn't taken a single bath. The people in the valley knew that few of the thousand children would survive, and they were too lazy to build public facilities like bathhouses. But what about five years ago? Where had he lived? Had no one searched him thoroughly? Xinghun didn't believe it.

He sighed, yet felt a surge of excitement; he had finally acquired the miraculous internal energy. He was also curious whether he would truly have the luck to master it.

He stopped thinking about those incomprehensible things, unfolded the object the shadow had thrown at him, and suddenly froze, unable to help but curse: "How am I supposed to know what's written on it in the dark!"

This was a scroll of mounted silk. Xinghun was somewhat dejected. Shadow was the real idiot; did he think he could somehow steal light by chiseling a hole in the wall here? Or that he could openly read it by lamplight when the man in blue came during the day?

"The sky must be full of stars outside now," Xinghun thought idly, his fingers gently stroking the silk with a touch of melancholy. The internal energy technique must be embroidered on the silk. He felt the uneven texture. His fingers slowly found a thread. He closed his eyes and followed the raised line, slowly forming a diagram of the human body's meridians in his mind.