Li Xiong lived up to his name—he really was like a little bear. He had been in the prison for over half a month, sitting cross-legged every day facing the bars, staring longingly at the entrance, waiting for Lei Jingzhe to come take him home. The jailers saw that he was young and liked to tease him. He was sturdy and simple-minded, never getting angry when people played tricks on him—but his appetite was astonishing. One meal for him was enough to feed three grown men.
When the jailer opened Li Xiong’s cell, Li Xiong, still wearing his cangue, eagerly asked, “Is my big brother here to pick me up?”
The jailer smacked him on the back but didn’t answer. Qiao Tianya had arranged a carriage to fetch him. Afraid he might cause trouble along the way, the jailers shackled his ankles as well. Li Xiong wasn’t used to riding in a carriage; the swaying made him dizzy. When they finally arrived and he got down, the moment he saw the grand gates of the residence, he refused to step inside.
“I’m not going in,” Li Xiong said, planting himself like a post, unmoving no matter how many people pushed him. “This place is too big. If I go in, my big brother won’t be able to find me.”
It was a stifling day, the heat making sweat pour down everyone’s faces. The jailers, afraid of offending their superiors, grew frantic and tried to coax him. “Just go in first. Once you’re inside, we’ll bring you back out.”
Li Xiong thought the man’s darting eyes made him look like a weasel—a liar. He shook his head stubbornly, refusing to budge. No matter how they pleaded, he would not move. Finally, the jailers lost patience. Several of them crowded behind him, trying to shove him inside.
Li Xiong’s heels scraped against the ground. Irritated, he suddenly bellowed, shaking his arms as he shouted, “I said I’m not going in!”
The men behind him were all forced back by the force of it. Seeing him struggle, the jailers worried the cangue might not hold and hurriedly said, “Hold him down! Don’t let him make trouble!”
As they rushed him, Li Xiong planted his stance, steady as a mountain, his dark face flushed with anger. The jailers exerted all their strength, but he did not move a single step. Time ticked by as they remained stuck at the gate.
Ji Gang happened to be returning from a stroll, with Fei Sheng beside him. From a distance, he saw the crowd gathered at the entrance, the carriage blocking the way. With his hands behind his back, he was about to ask what was going on when several jailers cried out and were suddenly thrown off all at once.
“What strength!” Fei Sheng exclaimed, glancing at Ji Gang.
Ji Gang, a practitioner of the Ji family’s boxing, valued strength above all. His eyes lit up. “Where did this kid come from?”
Fei Sheng hurried forward. Without asking, he could guess most of the situation from the jailers’ attire. He first rested his hand on the embroidered spring blade at his waist, then let it drop. With a kick, he flicked up the iron chain on the ground and said, “Step aside—I’ll tie him up!”
Shen Zechuan had been waiting inside for Kong Ling and the others. Hearing the commotion outside, he lifted the bamboo curtain and saw Ji Gang entering first. Startled, he asked, “Master, what happened?”
Ji Gang handed his birdcage to Qiao Tianya to hang under the eaves. He bent over the bronze basin, scooped up water to wash his hands, and said, “Picked up a kid at the gate. Take a look—see if he’s the one you wanted.”
As he spoke, Fei Sheng dragged in a burly youth by an iron chain, like pulling an ox. The boy was still throwing a tantrum, yanking Fei Sheng forward instead. Fei Sheng, a dignified commander of the Imperial Guards, was drenched in sweat after just a few steps of struggling.
“Ah!” Ding Tao poked his head out from inside and shouted, “That’s him—Li Xiong!”
Shen Zechuan asked, “What’s going on?”
Fei Sheng was about to answer when the chain suddenly went taut. He was yanked backward, then immediately dragged forward again.
Li Xiong pulled on the chain so hard that cracks appeared in the wooden cangue. Dragging Fei Sheng, he began spinning around the courtyard. Fei Sheng’s back scraped through flowerbeds, dirt splattering up his neck. Though he wanted to show off, he found he couldn’t steady himself at all.
Everything happened in a flash. Qiao Tianya moved to intervene, but Ji Gang stopped him with an arm and shouted, “Peach!”
Ding Tao responded, stuffing his notebook into his chest before darting out lightly. He leapt over the railing. As Fei Sheng continued being dragged, Ding Tao chased after them. Knowing he couldn’t overpower Li Xiong, he suddenly stepped on the chain and shouted, “Li Xiong—!”
But his foot slipped, and his leg got caught. With a yank, Li Xiong sent him flipping backward. Quick-witted, Ding Tao shielded his head with his arms. He hit the soft earth with a thud and rolled several times, flower stems scratching his arms but blocked by the dogskin arm guards he had just put on.
Fei Sheng hooked his foot onto the edge of a stone step. The chain wrapped around his arm bit painfully into his flesh. Gritting his teeth, he forced himself upright, bracing at an angle as he pulled back, veins bulging. “What monstrous strength!” he cursed.
Ding Tao sprang up like a carp leaping from water. After a few quick steps, he suddenly jumped, kicked off the railing, and landed on Li Xiong’s back. One hand grabbed Li Xiong’s collar, his legs clamping around his neck. He raised his fist—but did not strike. Instead, he shouted, “Let go!”
Li Xiong staggered under the impact but steadied himself quickly. Releasing the chain, he reached back to grab Ding Tao. But halfway through, the cangue hindered him. Furious, he shook his body, trying to throw Ding Tao off. Ding Tao clung on like a monkey, but his notebook slipped from his chest.
Ding Tao’s agility was unmatched, taught by his father. His family served as guards in Libei, always carrying notebooks to record everything in detail. These notebooks were more important than their lives. To keep them from being lost on the battlefield, his father had trained exceptional escape skills—but in the end, he died chasing after a fallen notebook, his throat slit.
Seeing the notebook fall, Ding Tao panicked. He reached for it—only to be caught by Li Xiong. Grabbing his arm, Li Xiong flung him over his shoulder like a fish pulled from a stream.
With a heavy crash, Ding Tao landed flat on his back. He gasped in pain, but his legs swiftly clamped onto the notebook. Li Xiong seized his collar and hauled him into the air again. Ignoring the blows, Ding Tao grabbed the notebook with one hand—only to be slammed down again.
This time, he couldn’t hold back, coughing as bile rose in his throat. Hooking his legs around Li Xiong’s arm, he used the momentum to flip him over. The cangue cracked upon impact. Li Xiong rolled up to his feet, eyes blazing, and threw a punch straight at Ding Tao’s face. But halfway through, his arm suddenly felt unbearably heavy—like it had slammed into steel. His immense strength couldn’t move forward even an inch.
Ji Gang had caught his fist.
“Step back!” Ji Gang barked.
Li Xiong resisted, but his legs seemed to betray him. The white-haired elder forced him back several steps. Just as he regained his footing, he lost balance and fell heavily onto the ground.
Ji Gang brushed off his sleeves and pulled Ding Tao to his feet.
Ding Tao stuffed his notebook back into his chest and complained, “Grandpa! That hurt!”
Ji Gang dusted off his back. “I told you—relying on tricks will catch up with you! When you got on him earlier, you should’ve struck with ‘Scarlet Charge to the Bull.’ Why hesitate?”
Ding Tao wiped his sweat, aggrieved. “He ate my candy yesterday. We even called each other brothers.”
Only then did Qiao Tianya cross his arms and lean against a pillar, whistling at Fei Sheng. “Old Fei, not so impressive, huh?”
Fei Sheng stripped off his dirty outer robe and laughed. “Why don’t you try? This kid’s strength is unreal.”
Shen Zechuan was slightly surprised. The strongest person he had ever seen was Xiao Chiye—who could draw a hundred-pound bow with sheer arm strength, lift him onto a horse with one arm. But even Xiao Chiye, at this age, had never been this terrifying.
“Which of your parents is from Biansha?” Ji Gang asked, stepping forward.
Li Xiong, still sore from the fall, burst into tears instead, kicking his legs. “Why are you all bullying me?!”
Shen Zechuan lowered his sleeves. “He’s still a child.”
Ji Gang examined him. “No technique—just brute strength… almost like wrestling. Boy, tell me honestly—does one of your parents come from Biansha?”
Li Xiong ignored him, crying harder. Since childhood, he had followed Lei Jingzhe. Now, without him, he was like a lost child in the marketplace—helpless and alone.
The crying gave Shen Zechuan a headache. Having slept poorly the night before, he felt exhausted just standing there. He said to Ding Tao, “Give him some more candy.”
Ding Tao looked even more aggrieved. He fumbled in his sleeve and finally pulled out a paper packet. “…It melted.”
Qiao Tianya plucked a fallen flower, bit it between his teeth, and crouched in front of Li Xiong, grinning. “I’ll take off your shackles and get you some food. Want rice or noodles?”
Li Xiong hiccupped, sniffling. “I want meat.”
With the bamboo curtain half-lowered, the room was cool.
Li Xiong sat cross-legged at a small table, grabbing meat with his hands and eating heartily. Ding Tao secretly counted the plates, nearly getting overwhelmed.
“His mother was probably a woman abducted by Biansha cavalry,” Ji Gang said, studying him. “The Chaishi River region has always been chaotic. In earlier years, this happened often. The Duanzhou garrison didn’t bother crossing the border to chase them.”
“But with such a strong build, his father can’t be ordinary,” he added. “How he ended up with bandits is a mystery.”
“If he really has Biansha blood, being abandoned isn’t surprising,” Shen Zechuan said. “Records in Qu Du show annual reports of abducted border residents—Duanzhou has the most. If those women became pregnant, the Biansha tribes wouldn’t raise the children. They’d dump them back along the Chaishi River—but their original families wouldn’t take them in either.”
Fei Sheng, now in clean robes, said, “If he just happened to fall into bandit hands, that’s one thing. I’m more worried they raised him deliberately.”
“Unlikely,” Ji Gang shook his head. “Not every Biansha is built like this. Even the Libei cavalry has strict physical requirements, yet not all are like the Prince of Libei. This boy’s father was probably someone extraordinary—but among the Biansha commanders near Zhongbo, I know of no such man.”
“Kid,” Qiao Tianya said, sipping cold soup, “you’ve eaten. Time to talk.”
Li Xiong’s mouth was still full. He glanced around, then fixed his gaze on Shen Zechuan and mumbled something.
Ding Tao leaned closer to listen, then turned to Shen Zechuan. “My lord, he’s asking why you’re wearing an earring… says he’s seen one like it before… no, not the same… yes, yes… yours isn’t bought… you’ve seen it before?”
Li Xiong swallowed his food, not even bothering to wipe his mouth. Looking straight at Shen Zechuan, he said, “I’ve seen you before—in Gedale by the Chaishi River!”