Chapter 58: Bowing Down and Admitting Defeat

Before proceeding with the main text, I would like to make a modification to the preceding section. After researching historical references, I have determined that the term "Grandfather" was indeed somewhat inappropriate. To ensure the highest level of precision, I have replaced it with the more fitting title, "Great-Uncle."

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No one understood the methods of Princess Taiping better than Huifan. He had witnessed with his own eyes how she had effortlessly crushed an unruly underworld magnate who refused to submit to her authority, using his demise to strike fear into others. The punishment that had nearly cost him his life last time was merely a "slight warning." If he truly enraged her, a quick death would be a mercy. His reliance on Princess Taiping’s favor rested solely on the band of death-defying thugs under his command. If she were to learn that his neck was at risk, there was no way she would entrust him with resources. Without those resources, a monk like him, whose vows were already compromised, would have no standing to occupy a high position.

At this thought, cold sweat drenched Huifan.

Pei Min, disdaining further conversation, said bluntly, "My philosophy in life is straightforward: I either avoid offending someone entirely, or I offend them so thoroughly they have no chance of recovery. We aren't exactly mortal enemies, but I cannot tolerate you pestering me time and again. I intended to ensure you could never rise again, but since the divine physician Liu wishes to let the matter rest, it is not my place as an outsider to interfere too deeply. In short, give me an answer: will you continue to entangle yourself with me until we both perish, or will you behave and keep to yourself? Aside from the current Emperor, no one has any interest in your sordid affairs."

Huifan forced a smile. The dozens of martial arts experts and hundreds of vicious monks he controlled might not be enough to shift the tides of an empire, but they could prove remarkably effective at critical moments. Hadn't Li Shimin relied on barely thirty truly loyal thugs during the Xuanwu Gate Incident? If not for Gao Shilian opening the prisons and arming the death-row inmates with the promise of survival, he wouldn't have even gathered a hundred men. Yet, that hundred-man force had begun a brand new chapter for the Great Tang.

Li Longji might not fear the few hundred men under Huifan’s command, but he would certainly be happy to see them eliminated.

Huifan looked at Pei Min with a flicker of terror. This young man was a madman; his own weaknesses had fallen into the hands of someone who feared neither heaven nor earth. For a moment, he felt a sudden sense of relief. If it weren't for Liu Shenwei’s presence, there would have been no room for negotiation with this little lunatic. He hurried to say, "Brother Pei..."

Pei Min’s expression stiffened. Since arriving in this world, those he called brothers were men like Yan Gaoqing, Yuan Lüqian, Zhang Xu, and He Zhizhang—men who were either brilliant heroes dedicated to the nation and the people, or peerless talents of the age. A thieving monk like Huifan, tainted by debauchery, had no right to call him "brother."

Seeing Pei Min’s face change and recalling his earlier disdain for such a relationship, Huifan quickly corrected himself. "I, Huifan, admit defeat today. My weaknesses are in your hands; I have nothing more to say. For the sake of my own future, I promise you, I will no longer trouble Liu Shenwei and his people..."

"Good!" Pei Min nodded. "Then we shall go our separate ways, each sticking to our own path." Without another word, he refused to linger in the ill-omened temple and left without a farewell.

Huifan’s face turned pale and then green. Encountering someone even more ruthless than himself left him with nowhere to vent his anger; like a punctured balloon, he slunk toward the side courtyard in defeat.

Only He Yi stood there, bewildered, watching Pei Min’s retreating figure. He thought to himself, *Wasn't he here to capture me?* Remembering that terrifying swordsmanship, which bore no resemblance to the Qingcheng style, a ridiculous thought suddenly emerged: the man was not a disciple of the Qingcheng Sect at all. He had only used the Nine Profound Sword of the Great Path because he had learned it from him. He Yi had practiced for three years, only for the man to learn it on the spot and use it against him. In that instant, He Yi felt as though his many years of life had been lived in vain.

Upon returning to his residence, Pei Min first went to Yuzhen Temple to detail Huifan's compromise.

Liu Shenwei breathed a sigh of relief, a heavy stone lifting from his heart. As an old man, he cared little for his own fate, but Sun Pu was different—he still had a long road ahead.

"The preparations are nearly complete! I shall bid farewell to Daoist Ye and return to the manor with you, Young Master. I am quite interested in this 'physiotherapist' you mentioned; perhaps you can tell me more about it later."

"Certainly!" Pei Min’s eyes crinkled. When he first hired Liu Shenwei as a personal physician, Liu hadn't understood the point of keeping a doctor on staff when one wasn't even ill.

Pei Min had explained the concept of a physiotherapist to him. In the twenty-first century, almost every renowned athlete had a private physiotherapist. They were responsible for adjusting training intensity, massaging muscles, and conditioning the body to ensure the athlete could train and compete at their peak. Liu Shenwei, skilled in massage, acupuncture, and blood-circulation techniques, and an expert in medicinal baths for fatigue and injury, was the perfect candidate.

With a divine physician like Liu Shenwei watching over him, Pei Min felt he had no need to worry about sustaining injuries from intense physical activity.

Liu Shenwei, who had spent a lifetime practicing medicine, had never imagined that medical arts could be applied in such a way. His curiosity was piqued; he had even spent the entire previous night studying the subject and found that many things were indeed as Pei Min had described, merely never attempted. That Pei Min was willing to use himself as a test subject was the best possible outcome for him.

Returning to the Pei manor with Liu Shenwei, Pei Min saw Xue Ne tinkering with some new contraptions in the training yard. Along the racecourse, a dozen wooden gates had been installed, each lined with sharp wooden spikes. The tips of the spikes glinted coldly in the sunlight, and Pei Min couldn't help but shudder with a foreboding feeling.

"Great-Uncle! What is this for?" Pei Min called out to Xue Ne from a distance.

Xue Ne laughed. "Horsemanship is all about precision and control. This is a game that was popular in the army in our younger years, called 'Piercing the Sword Gate.' We arrange blades into the shape of a gate and have soldiers ride through it. A true master of horsemanship can ride back and forth through a hundred such gates without suffering a scratch. Start with these wooden spikes. As your skill improves, I will lengthen them and eventually replace them with real blades. This exercise not only trains your riding but also tempers your courage. If you don't even have the heart to charge through a sword gate, you’ll surely be a coward on the battlefield. Few people today have the nerve for such play. If you're afraid, I can have the spikes filed down."

Pei Min looked at the gate bristling with spikes, a sense of yearning rising in his heart. No wonder the Tang army of that era was invincible if they treated charging through a mountain of swords as a game. Hearing Xue Ne’s challenge, he jumped up. "What do you mean, Great-Uncle? Are you looking down on me? Forget these wooden spikes—I would dare to ride through a gate of real swords! Give me ten days, and I guarantee I will be able to ride through them with ease."

"Boastful talk!" Xue Ne snorted. He ordered Pei Min to bring his horse and began patiently teaching him how to gallop steadily, how to maintain his center of gravity during a sprint, and various other techniques of equestrianism.

Liu Shenwei observed Pei Min’s physical condition from the sidelines, a brush in his hand, recording every detail of his progress.