Chapter 16: Risking Everything (1)

As soon as Liu Yitiao stepped out of the county office’s gate, he ran into Yang Bofang, who had hurried over upon hearing the news.

Just a few hours earlier, when Old Liu had visited Yang Bofang’s home to seek his advice, Yang Bofang had been optimistic about Liu Yitiao’s situation. He hadn’t believed that Liu Yitiao would act without certainty, so he had gently persuaded Old Liu to return home.

But who could have imagined that in such a short time, the whole Liu family would be arrested? Sensing something amiss, Yang Bofang rushed over at once.

Seeing Liu Yitiao safe and sound, Yang Bofang smiled and said, “Yitiao, my virtuous nephew, I’m relieved to see you unharmed. When I heard the news of your family’s arrest, I was anxious beyond measure. Where are your parents? Have they already returned home safely?”

“Uncle Yang!” Liu Yitiao bowed respectfully, his face clouded with worry. “My parents are still in prison. I’m trying to find a way to get them out.”

“What?!” Yang Bofang was perplexed. “If you’re released, why must your parents still suffer behind bars? Vice Magistrate Wang has always been a reasonable man, a good official. How could he arrest women and scholars merely over a lightly injured ox? No, I must speak with him and reason this out!”

Hearing Yang Bofang’s tone, Liu Yitiao was stirred and quietly asked, “Uncle Yang, do you know Magistrate Wang?”

“We have some acquaintance. I knew his father from years past—so I suppose I’m something of an elder to him,” Yang Bofang replied vaguely. “Leave this to me. I’ll plead on behalf of your parents—perhaps they’ll be released today.”

“I’m most grateful, Uncle Yang.” Liu Yitiao bowed deeply.

True friendship reveals itself in adversity. Yang Bofang had repeatedly come to Liu Yitiao’s aid in times of crisis; whatever his motives, Liu Yitiao was sincerely grateful.

Yet, to this day, Liu Yitiao still did not know Yang Bofang’s true identity.

Old Liu claimed Yang Bofang used to be a wandering performer, but Liu Yitiao never quite believed it—especially now. How could a mere wanderer be so at ease among officials? Who would dare to lecture a vice magistrate without a deep connection?

Moreover, Liu Yitiao had thoroughly investigated Wang Zhihong’s family background: his ancestors were generals of the previous dynasty, and his father was a significant official in the current government. Why would such a noble family ever befriend a vagabond?

Liu Yitiao wanted to follow and see for himself, but Yang Bofang sent him away, saying it was inappropriate for outsiders to accompany him on a personal matter. This only deepened Liu Yitiao’s doubts. Still, the man was helping him earnestly, and he didn’t wish to pry further. After all, in modern times, probing into another’s privacy was not only immoral but illegal.

As a young man of the twenty-first century, Liu Yitiao held to the principle of respecting personal privacy.

Once Yang Bofang entered the office, Liu Yitiao turned to go home. The outcome was already set: Wang Zhihong would not release his family for now. He only wondered whether Yang Bofang would be told the hidden truth of the matter.

The doors at home stood ajar, the rooms and courtyard eerily empty.

Without Madam Liu’s greetings or Liu Xiaohui’s noisy chatter, Liu Yitiao felt a sudden sense of loss.

Fortunately, this was only a charade; in a couple of days, they would return. Otherwise, he truly wouldn’t know how to carry on. A house is only complete with family—their presence, their voices.

After hastily eating a couple of mouthfuls, Liu Yitiao collapsed into bed. Tonight, Wang Zhihong would spread the news of Wang Shuai’s death. Who knew what dangers tomorrow would bring? He needed to be well-rested and alert.

“Yitiao! Yitiao! Wake up, it’s time for breakfast.” A familiar, gentle voice roused him. “Yitiao, I bought your favorite soup dumplings and soy milk. Get up and eat before it gets cold.”

“Minmin?!”

Liu Yitiao sat up abruptly, searching around, but the Minmin he called for was nowhere to be found.

“Alas, just another empty dream,” he sighed, rising to wash his face.

Ever since arriving in the Tang Dynasty, he dreamed of his girlfriend from his previous life almost every night. He wondered if she was well in that other world.

After gnawing on two leftover steamed buns, Liu Yitiao began practicing martial arts in the courtyard.

His style was Jeet Kune Do, following the legacy of Bruce Lee. Of course, he was not a direct disciple—Lee had passed away long before Liu Yitiao was born. All his skills had been painstakingly gleaned from Lee’s films, videos, and books. He was not a master, but he had achieved some proficiency.

Jeet Kune Do, as created by Bruce Lee from the foundation of Wing Chun, absorbed and blended techniques from martial arts around the world into a comprehensive, practical combat system—a pure, real-world fighting art.

Its emphasis on freedom and instinct gave Jeet Kune Do unparalleled power in close combat. That was why Liu Yitiao had chosen it in the first place: freedom, instinct, flexibility—using no way as way, having no limitation as limitation.

“Yo!”

“Hah!”

“Da! Da! Da!”

With these rhythmic shouts, Liu Yitiao’s body moved fluidly across the courtyard.

A punch to the east, a kick to the west—seemingly without pattern. Yet every movement shared one trait: speed. Each action was performed with the utmost efficiency—no concern for aesthetics, only effectiveness.

Finishing his routine, Liu Yitiao smiled lightly. Compared to yesterday, he was already faster; his body had adapted completely to the explosive demands of Jeet Kune Do.

After wiping away sweat and changing clothes, Liu Yitiao set out to visit relatives and friends to seek their help. Even though it was all part of the act, he had to play his role convincingly for others to believe him. If Wang Kui caught wind of anything suspicious, it would be hard to trap him later. And Liu Yitiao did not want any hidden danger threatening his family.

In truth, even if Wang Zhihong hadn’t come looking for him, Liu Yitiao would have found an opportunity to eliminate Wang Kui eventually. There were many ways to remove a threat—murder was not the only means. Framing, slander, accidents, provocation, hypnosis—there were countless methods. Working with Wang Zhihong was simply the most convenient.

The Liu family was small. Madam Liu was an orphan, Old Liu had only one brother, so there weren’t many relatives to visit. Most were distant kin he barely knew—some he had never even met.