Chapter 13
Kunlun Mountains, China
"Kunlun Iron Fist techniques are probably the most compatible with my style. They emphasize explosive power and internal energy—just like Turtle Style Qigong and some of my own variations. The problem is… Kunlun only appears once every fifteen years. I don't even know if I'm on the right path."
Twelve-year-old Li Ji gripped the edge of a rock ledge and pushed himself upward with ease. He landed squarely on a flat boulder jutting out from the side of Yuxu Peak. The mountain wind blew across his face as he sat down, pulled out two steamed buns from his jacket, and stuffed them into his mouth.
"I've climbed nearly every major peak in the Kunlun range these last few days," he mumbled with a full mouth, "and still no sign of the legendary Kunlun City. Good thing this area is part tourist destination—at least I can still find food. Otherwise, I'd have starved to death in this forested wilderness."
He lay down on the rock, hands behind his head, gazing up at the vast, open sky.
"Maybe I should go to Kamar Taj instead. I know the locations of their sanctums, and while their magic might clash with my path, they still use energy as a source of power. There's probably something to learn."
But even as he considered that detour, he shook his head.
"No… not yet. I worked hard to get that visa just to come here from the States. I'm not about to give up after a few days just because I haven't found it yet. I may be hungry, but I'm not dead."
His eyes slowly shut as he drifted off, the sun warming the cliff face.
A long, high-pitched screech snapped him awake.
Hovering in the sky above was a massive goshawk, wings outstretched in dominance. Li Ji blinked, sitting up slowly. "Whoa… that's a big one."
The bird was circling him. But it wasn't curious—it was hunting.
"…Hey, you're not seriously trying to attack me, right?"
Li Ji narrowed his eyes. He wasn't afraid of the bird itself. Physically, he could overpower it. The problem was the terrain. One wrong step on the narrow ledge and he'd fall straight down the cliff. He hadn't mastered energy flight or techniques like the Qigong wave. Right now, gravity was his greatest enemy.
The hawk screeched again. This time, its cry sounded less majestic and more hostile.
The wind picked up without warning, the gentle mountain breeze turning into violent gusts that howled through the rocks. The bird took advantage of the sudden change, diving at Li Ji with talons outstretched.
It was fast. Very fast.
But Li Ji's instincts kicked in instantly. Years of sparring with Ororo had honed his reflexes. His left foot braced against the boulder, and he twisted his torso, narrowly dodging the sharp claws that sliced through the air where his head had just been.
"Chirp!" The goshawk let out another cry, wings flapping so hard they stirred another burst of wind. Li Ji staggered slightly, nearly losing his balance.
"Huh. That's dangerous," he muttered, crouching low. "Didn't expect wind manipulation… but then again, I used to train with a literal weather witch. You think a strong breeze is enough to throw me off?"
The goshawk wasn't done. It rose high again, flapping furiously before diving once more.
"You're really coming back?" Li Ji exhaled slowly. His eyes narrowed. "Alright."
He released his grip on the rock face and took off running—not down, but sideways, along the steep cliff wall. His feet found footholds quickly and precisely, each step planned in advance.
"Three, two, one… perfect," he muttered as he landed on a narrow ledge just ahead. It was wide enough for a short sprint—around four meters across, maybe ten meters long. More than enough space.
"Okay, birdbrain. Let's finish this."
The hawk screeched again. This time, Li Ji didn't move. He waited.
As the goshawk lunged, its sharp talons gleamed in the sun. At the last moment, Li Ji dropped low and rolled to the side. In one motion, he twisted around its right wing, reached forward, and dragged his fingers across the tough feathers.
The feathers were like armor—but his touch sliced through them cleanly, leaving a long, bleeding gash down the wing.
"Chirp!" the bird wailed, flapping wildly. But Li Ji didn't stop. He stomped down hard, his foot crashing into the hawk's right wing and slamming it into the rock platform. A cracking sound echoed through the mountains. The bone had snapped.
"No more flying for you," Li Ji said coldly.
He planted his right foot on the wing to pin it down. The hawk struggled and screeched again, but this time its cry sounded… different. Less aggressive. More afraid.
Li Ji cocked his head. "You eat people, don't you? I mean, look at your size. You'd need something bigger than mice to maintain that bulk. You've probably dragged off hikers and campers more than once. I don't feel bad turning you into roasted dinner."
He raised a fist, intending to knock the bird out—but realized the hawk's head was too high for him to reach.
"Tch. Fine." He aimed for the spine instead.
His fist slammed down into the hawk's back. The creature's body shuddered violently, nearly going limp under the impact.
Then—
"Amu! Amu!"
A voice called from across the mountain wall. Li Ji paused.
The hawk's body trembled.
The voice came again—closer this time.
"Amu, where are you?!"
Li Ji turned toward the voice and spotted an old man climbing up from the other side. The man carried a large basket on his back and moved with surprising agility for his age. His weathered face and strong limbs told Li Ji that this old man wasn't some regular tourist.
"Amu! What's wrong?!"
The man's eyes locked on the scene: his goshawk pinned under Li Ji's foot, bleeding and broken.
He sprang into action, climbing the last few meters quickly and landing on the platform with a thud. From his pack, he drew a curved machete and pointed it straight at Li Ji.
"Who are you?!" the man demanded. "Why did you hurt Amu?!"
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