In just a few words, two peerless masters are about to face off in Jinghua, not for fame, but for life.

Chapter 16: Lighting the Lamp

Red walls and yellow tiles, upright soldiers, deep courtyards, Haizi Lake, ancient gardens, and a few elders together form the supreme power.

Chris Thompson and Oliver Carter, these two generals, stood before the elders.

Meanwhile, David Carter and several other tall, straight young men, as sharp as spears and swords, kept a vigilant watch on their surroundings, patrolling at a distance and paying attention to any possible movement.

All of them are top-tier martial arts geniuses; even if they faced a dozen special forces soldiers, they could take them down barehanded. With their protection, assassination attempts from foreign forces would not be able to threaten the leader.

"Jinglong, I have received a report here about your son Ethan Thompson colluding with foreign forces. Please explain." An elder raised his hand, and the guard behind him stepped forward, handing a stack of documents to Chris Thompson.

Chris Thompson held them with both hands, read through them one by one, then closed the file and respectfully had the guard return it.

"Chief, I..." Chris Thompson thought for a moment, organized his words, and was just about to speak when hurried footsteps sounded from afar. Another guard arrived, handing over a letter for the elder to open personally.

After opening it, the elder saw that the handwriting was as sharp as a sword, full of force and spirit, elegant and ethereal—unmatched by any calligraphy master.

"A letter from old brother Yifei." After reading, he closed it, seemingly reminiscing about the old days. "Alright, this matter ends here."

"Chief," a middle-aged man nearby quickly spoke up, "this matter is key to cracking that mysterious organization. If we can break it, we’ll gain a major advantage internationally."

"If that organization were really easy to catch, it wouldn’t have run rampant for so many years." The elder patted the documents. "If you want to ask something, be polite to Ethan Thompson. Also, before the Mid-Autumn Festival, do not disturb him. He is not someone you can handle."

"But—!" The middle-aged man was still unwilling.

"No buts. That’s an order." The elder’s tone grew heavier.

"Yes, sir!" The middle-aged man immediately straightened up, saluted, and turned to leave.

"Jinglong, your son is remarkable." The elder sighed. "Old brother Yifei wrote to say that on the night of the Mid-Autumn Festival, he wants to borrow a place here to have a duel with your son. Any young man who can catch old brother Yifei’s eye is a true prodigy, let alone one who can fight him."

"I don’t really know his life story," Chris Thompson knew it was best not to say more at this moment.

"I’d like to meet your son. Can you arrange it?" The elder opened the letter again. "I know old brother Yifei’s abilities—he’s already like an immortal, unbound by anything. I wonder what kind of person your son is?"

"He doesn’t listen to me at all, and I can’t make him do anything." Chris Thompson quickly advised, "Besides, he’s extremely dangerous. Chief, it’s best not to meet him."

"True, anyone who can stand on equal footing with old brother Yifei can’t be bound by the mundane world. Then let’s not meet. Anyway, on the night of the Mid-Autumn Festival, I’ll have a feast for the eyes." The elder waved his hand. "This matter ends here. I’ve looked over the documents—your son hasn’t really done anything out of line."

"Then I’m relieved. But... on the night of the Mid-Autumn Festival, will my son..." Chris Thompson suddenly asked.

"I don’t know either," the elder sighed. "Old brother Yifei and your son have already made their agreement. Their world is not something we can understand. This is their choice; when the time comes, we’ll leave it to fate. You don’t know old brother Yifei’s character, but I do."

"Alright then." Chris Thompson and Oliver Carter also left.

After leaving, Chris Thompson suddenly stopped. "Old friend, do you know the background of this Yifei the chief mentioned?"

"I know a bit. In the early days, he was a soldier in the army, killed countless enemies in foreign wars. Later, he suddenly had an epiphany, saw through the world, and went up the mountain to cultivate. He has a deep friendship with the chief, a bond that transcends age. He’s saved the chief several times." Oliver Carter got into the military vehicle. "I don’t know why he’s involved with your son."

"After the Mid-Autumn Festival, I don’t know if my son will live or die." Chris Thompson himself didn’t know what he was saying; things had already slipped out of his control.

The manor of Yu Beiyao’s family.

In front of Ethan Thompson was an extinguished oil lamp. He stared straight at the wick, focusing his mind, as if trying to light the lamp with his gaze.

This was an ancient Buddhist practice—the "Lamp Lighting Method."

Legend has it that if you can light a lamp with your spirit, it means your cultivation has reached its peak.

Of course, this is unrealistic; it’s only recorded in Buddhist scriptures as a secret method passed from the Buddha of Lamp Lighting to Shakyamuni. Human spirit cannot light a lamp out of thin air; the practice is about capturing this state of mind. In the martial way, the flame is passed on, never extinguished.

A martial artist must light the lamp in their own heart.

As long as there is breath, there is a lamp.

The ancient martial way has never been broken. No matter how the world changes, there will always be some who hold true to their hearts, unwavering and unshaken.