William slowly walked to the riverside, staring blankly at the steaming hole in the ice. He was only five years old—this could be fatal and would affect his development. The TV had said that children shouldn’t swim in winter.

“Let me... take off my clothes first.”

Before he could finish, both his feet were suddenly lifted off the ground. Matthew Bolton picked him up like a chick, strode onto the ice, and hurled him fiercely into the hole.

With a ‘thud!’, William plunged into the icy river. He felt as if countless needles were stabbing his whole body, his cells contracting sharply. The bone-chilling cold was so painful he couldn’t bear it, and he let out a sharp, miserable scream.

He desperately tried to climb ashore, but just as he got halfway up, Matthew Bolton kicked him back down. The cold in the water made his blood feel like it was freezing. He thought he was going to die, and the fear of death made him beg Matthew Bolton, “Please, let me out! I really can’t take it, please, Master...”

Before he could finish, Matthew Bolton slapped him across the face and shouted fiercely, “Shut up!”

William saw stars from the blow, and hatred welled up in his heart. He cursed loudly, “Zhang the scoundrel, one day I’ll chop off your head... I won’t let you get away with this!”

To his surprise, Matthew Bolton just laughed, “Good! Keep cursing, curse my ancestors for eighteen generations while you’re at it!”

“Zhang the scoundrel, screw your ancestors for eighteen generations!”

...

Matthew Bolton sat under a tree, chewing on a dry blade of grass, glancing sideways at William. At this point, he didn’t care anymore—William could climb ashore if he wanted, but the boy was too stubborn to beg again, refusing to come out. Matthew Bolton didn’t pull him out either, curious to see how long he could hold out.

After nearly half an hour, Matthew Bolton broke through the newly frozen ice and dragged the now blue and purple William ashore. He was actually just testing William’s courage and fierceness. Seeing the boy’s toughness, he found himself liking him.

He took a flask of wine from his saddlebag, along with two vermilion pills the size of walnuts. He crushed one and put it into the wine, shaking it until it dissolved. Then Matthew Bolton pried open William’s mouth and forced the other pill down his throat. He quickly stripped off William’s clothes, poured the wine over him, and rubbed him vigorously for nearly fifteen minutes. Gradually, William’s skin regained its rosy color, and he finally woke up.

The first thing he said when he woke was, “My little willy is frozen off!”

A faint smile finally appeared on Matthew Bolton’s cold face. He grabbed him and lifted him up. “You’ve had the medicine. Now go run—eighteen li!”

“What about my clothes?”

“No need for clothes. No woman will be interested in you!”

Matthew Bolton mounted his horse and tapped William’s back with the flat of his blade. “Run! You cursed my ancestors for eighteen generations, so you’ll run eighteen li. Go!”

William, stark naked, started running, stumbling along. He felt a surge of heat bursting from within, making his whole body burn, and he didn’t feel cold at all.

Matthew Bolton followed on horseback. Whenever William slowed down, he would strike his back hard with the flat of his blade.

Many visitors skating on Qujiang Pond witnessed a shocking scene: a naked child running desperately along the shore, chased by a burly man on horseback who would occasionally strike the child’s tender back with the back of his knife—so fierce it was unbearable to watch.

Some wanted to intervene, but the man was too intimidating, stopping them in their tracks and filling their hearts with sympathy for the poor child.

...

By dusk, the utterly exhausted William had nearly crawled back to the small courtyard. His clothes had dried naturally. Evelyn Brooks, who had been worried sick, was overjoyed to see William finally return and hurried to greet him. “Thank goodness, you’re finally back!”

She supported William, and seeing how deformed he looked, she was startled. “William, what happened to you?”

William took a packet of medicine from his pocket and handed it to her, saying weakly, “Let me soak in this medicine for two hours tonight.”

Evelyn Brooks opened the packet and found a black ointment inside. She sniffed it—it smelled fragrant. She asked curiously, “What is this?”

“I don’t know. That bastard is going to torture me to death.”

At that moment, Daisy ran out of the room, holding a bamboo sword, and jumped up excitedly, “William gege, I’ve started martial arts too! Let’s have a match!”

William managed a weak, bitter smile. “Let’s have a contest to see who can eat more.”

William ate three big bowls of rice in one go and immediately felt revived. Only then did he realize he’d been half-starved.

After dinner, Evelyn Brooks boiled a large tub of hot water and prepared two bath barrels. She dissolved William’s ointment in one, and for Daisy, she used a different ointment suitable for girls.

Soaking in medicinal water is a basic method for building a foundation in martial arts—almost all practitioners go through it, the only difference being the medicine used. It must be combined with internal pills. Originally, Evelyn Brooks planned to start Daisy’s foundation building in March when she turned five, but since William had already begun, she decided to start early.

“Auntie, why didn’t you tell me you knew martial arts too?”