Yuan Shikai’s bodyguard martial arts instructor, Itō Tarō, looked at William Thompson with contempt and said, “Big sick man of East Asia.” He pointed downward repeatedly with his little finger.

William Thompson, with a fiery temperament, could not tolerate such an insult. He raised his spear, the tip aimed at Ian Taylor—this was a challenge.

Ian Taylor felt humiliated and flew into a rage. He swung his Japanese longsword down at William Thompson’s head with the force of Mount Tai, but unexpectedly, William Thompson gave his spear a shake, knocking the sword away. Then, with a move called “eel turning in the water,” he thrust the spear through Ian Taylor’s throat, and with a flick, hurled the corpse out of the martial arts hall.

This sudden turn of events left everyone dumbfounded.

The Japanese martial arts instructors Akino, Inoue, and Noda, seeing their companion killed by William Thompson, all charged at William Thompson with their swords, faces twisted with rage. William Thompson moved in and out like lightning, retreated as swiftly as an arrow, his spear darting like a dragon emerging from the water, stabbing left and right—blood and flesh flew everywhere.

In an instant, the corpses of the three Japanese martial arts experts were also flung out of the hall. William Thompson swung his spear, aiming at a fly on a pillar; the fly fell, but the pillar was unmarked.

Moments later, thunderous applause erupted in the hall. Yuan Shikai exclaimed again and again, “Divine spear! Divine spear! Truly a divine spear!” From then on, the name “Divine Spear William Thompson” was known throughout the land.

“Grandmaster is truly amazing!”

Even though they had heard this story countless times, the group of half-grown boys still listened with blood boiling, their legs no longer tired. Each one stared wide-eyed, wishing it was they who had speared the Japanese.

Frank Quinn also clenched his small fists tightly, hatred flashing in his eyes. If only he had William Thompson’s skills, the tragedy that happened to his family five years ago would never have occurred.

Thinking of those events, bloodshot veins appeared in Frank Quinn’s eyes, his nails digging into his flesh. If not for a shred of reason holding him back, he might have howled out loud by now.

“Dad, why aren’t you resting in the house? What are you doing here?”

Just as Frank Quinn was losing control, a man of about fifty-four or fifty-five walked into the backyard, glancing irritably at the children and saying, “All of you, go practice! Why are you pestering Grandmaster?”

“Second son, it’s stuffy in the house. It’s more comfortable being with the kids.”

The old man waved his hand, stopping his son from speaking, and said, “Although I never reached Master’s level, I know my time is almost up. It’s good to leave behind as much as I can.”

“Dad, don’t say that. You’ll live to a hundred, no problem at all.” Hearing his father’s words, the man became anxious.

“Master only lived to seventy-two. I’m already over eighty—I’m more than content.”

The old man smiled and said, “Second son, my energy and blood are failing. I can’t perform the Bajiquan ‘lean’ anymore. You demonstrate for the youngsters, let them see the benefits of stance training.”

“Dad, these kids haven’t even built a solid foundation yet. Is it appropriate?”

The son hesitated. Chinese martial arts, unlike Western fighting, emphasizes gradual progress with no shortcuts. Demonstrating advanced skills in front of these kids might have a bad influence.

The old man suddenly smiled at his son, tilting his mouth toward a spot by the courtyard wall, and said, “What’s inappropriate? ‘In literature, there is Taiji to bring peace to the world; in martial arts, there is Baji to secure the universe’—that’s not just empty talk. Let these kids see for themselves!”

“Yes, Father!”

Seeing his father’s smile, the man seemed to understand something. His expression suddenly turned serious. He stepped forward, and when he reached the wall, he announced, “Let me show you the use of stance training!”

He didn’t remove his clothes. Standing loosely, feet neither too close nor too far apart, he leaned against the wall.

Suddenly, the man’s body dropped, and his shoulder slammed into the wall behind him. With a thunderous boom, a section of the nearly two-meter-high wall was broken clean through.

“Huh, you dodged pretty fast, didn’t you?”

After executing the “mountain-lean,” the man turned and looked toward a patch of grass outside the gap, shouting, “Kid, come out! If you can run ten meters, I’ll write my surname Liu backwards from now on!”

“Master Liu, it’s... it’s me...”

From the grass came Frank Quinn’s voice. He had just been consumed by hatred and only noticed when Liu’s second son approached the wall. At the moment Liu used the “mountain-lean,” he rolled away like a lazy donkey to dodge.

Still, Frank Quinn’s face was scratched by flying gravel. He knew it was a grave taboo to secretly observe martial arts training, so he didn’t dare wipe the blood, and sheepishly emerged from the grass.

“Hm? So it’s you, kid?” Seeing Frank Quinn with blood on his face, the man was momentarily stunned. He turned to look at his father in the courtyard, seeking guidance.

In fact, Frank Quinn had been secretly learning for years—they had long since noticed, but the old man had suppressed the matter with a word. Now, he wondered why the old man wanted to expose Frank Quinn.

Chapter 0003: Secretly Learning (Part 2)

“Frank Quinn, you’ve got some nerve! You dare to spy on our martial arts practice?”