"But his eyes were so bright, whenever he looked at your mom, that fondness couldn’t be hidden."
"At that time, I told your grandma, this young man is honest, treats people sincerely, and is worth associating with."
Li Zhenhua paused, then sighed:
"Later, when your family moved, and there was no elevator in the building, he single-handedly carried the heaviest refrigerator from the first floor to the ninth, his face turned purple, yet he didn’t utter a word."
"How could such a hardworking and responsible man possibly be the cruel fiend the newspapers described?"
These words were spoken by the old man to Fang Cheng.
He feared that the seventeen-year-old stigma would leave a shadow in his grandson’s heart, making him doubt his father.
It was as much about resolving his grandson’s emotional knot as it was about repeatedly affirming to himself that he hadn’t misjudged him.
Fang Cheng listened quietly, holding the umbrella over his mother’s head, shielding her from the cold rain.
His gaze fell on the tombstone, looking at the gentle smile on his father’s picture, his heart tumultuous with emotions.
Flashes of his father playing ball with him or helping with homework in childhood mingled with his mother’s secret tears over the years.
Ultimately, all emotions slowly settled, transforming into a firm conviction.
Fang Cheng silently vowed before the tombstone:
"Dad, rest in peace, I will take good care of Mom and won’t let her suffer any more grievances."
"And I will find out the truth of that year, cleansing all the dirt thrown at you, and restore your innocence."
A gust of mountain wind blew, scattering the ashes of the paper money, fluttering in the air like black butterflies.
The rain seemed to lessen, and the distant mountains loomed faintly in the mist, adding a bleakness to the scene.
Just then, out of the corner of his eye, Fang Cheng noticed three figures approaching from the stone steps not far away.
Leading the way was an elderly man, wearing a well-fitted gray administrative jacket.
Despite his graying hair, he stood straight as a pine, his steps steady, each one harmonizing with the earth.
Though aged, Fang Cheng could clearly sense the vigorous energy within that seemingly frail body.
Behind the elder were two people.
One was an ordinary-looking, alert middle-aged man.
The other, a strong, robust man, was someone Fang Cheng recognized as Wei Zheng, whom he had seen at the Ma Family a few days ago.
Seeing Wei Zheng appear here, Fang Cheng’s eyes narrowed slightly, faintly guessing that these three were likely here for him. Read full story at Nove1Fire.net
Sure enough, Wei Zheng spotted Fang Cheng immediately, hurried forward to greet him, with a look of appropriate surprise and familiarity:
"Junior Brother Fang, what a coincidence, you’re here to pay respects too?"
The commotion drew the attention of Li Bihua and Li Zhenhua, who paused their worship and looked over, puzzled.
Wei Zheng promptly nodded politely to the two elders:
"Hello, I’m Fang Cheng’s friend, here to visit some old comrades who sacrificed themselves in the cemetery today."
This reason was reasonable, without a flaw to pick.
Li Zhenhua nodded politely in return, "Hello, hello."
Wei Zheng then turned sideways and introduced the elder behind him:
"This is Elder Shi, our former chief of the Special Search Team’s action department, and the teacher I respect the most."
"Elder Shi and Uncle Ma Jianguo of the Ma Family have been close friends for many years."
Former chief of the Special Search Team!
The title caused both Li Zhenhua and Li Biyun’s expressions to change slightly, now tinged with caution.
Shi Chengyi’s gaze briefly rested on Li Biyun and Li Zhenhua, finally landing on Fang Cheng, his face showing a gentle smile, devoid of an official’s airs.
"I apologize for the intrusion, please forgive us."
He first courteously apologized, then turned his gaze to Fang Cheng, with an appreciation characteristic of a Martial Artist:
"I’ve heard from Jianguo about you, saying he has a remarkably talented disciple, and today I see the young hero indeed lives up to the reputation."
"Elder Shi, you’re too kind."
Fang Cheng responded neither humbly nor arrogantly, though his mind raced to decipher their intentions.
Shi Chengyi waved his hand, smiling:
"I am a few years older, and I dare say I’ve learned a bit about Martial Arts over the years."
"Just now, observing your stable stance and vigorous energy, I presume you must have unique insights into Boxing Theory. May I ask if I, as an elder, could discuss it with you?"
The words were flawless, simultaneously elevating Fang Cheng while posing a hard-to-refuse request.
Though Li Biyun and Li Zhenhua couldn’t grasp what Boxing Theory was, they saw that this significant figure regarded their son with distinction.
They exchanged glances, unsure if it was a blessing or a curse.
Shi Chengyi seemed to notice their concerns, turning to signal the middle-aged driver Old Zhang.
Old Zhang understood immediately, fetching a business card from his pocket and presenting it to Li Biyun with both hands.
"Madam, this is a small token of my intent."
Shi Chengyi softened his tone further, explaining:
"If you ever face living difficulties, just call this number. Consider it...taking care of my nephew’s family on Jianguo’s behalf."
This gesture conveyed goodwill and showcased his approachable nature, easing much of Li Biyun and Li Zhenhua’s wariness.
They also knew Fang Cheng seemed to be practicing martial arts with a Tai Chi boxing master for health, who happened to be Ma Donghe’s father, so they didn’t think much of it.
Fang Cheng realized that there was more to the other’s words, having ulterior motives.
Initially wary of involving himself with the high-ranking figure of the Special Search Team, he found it difficult to decline when the other proclaimed themselves a Martial Artist and mentioned Master Ma Jianguo.
After a brief consideration, Fang Cheng nodded:
"Since Elder Shi is interested, I’d be honored to accompany you."
He then reassured his mother and grandfather:
"Mom, Grandpa, please wait here for a bit while I have a chat with Elder Shi."
Wei Zheng and Old Zhang immediately stepped forward, engaging Fang Cheng’s family with enthusiasm, from discussing the weather to physical health, appearing especially attentive.
Considering their son’s future, Li Zhenhua and Li Biyun, though still a bit reserved, did not ignore the warm welcome, following the conversation naturally.
Gradually, the atmosphere became harmonious.
Fang Cheng and Shi Chengyi walked along a secluded path, heading to a higher-elevation hillside.
Here was a stone pavilion for resting, the fine rain outside and the silence inside creating a serene atmosphere.
From here, one could overlook a large part of the cemetery below, rows upon rows of gray-white tombstones stood solemnly in the rain.
The rain fell silently from the leaden sky, soaking every inch of West Mountain Cemetery.
In the distance, incense smoke entwined with mountain mist, weaving a desolate scene of life and death.
With hands behind his back, Shi Chengyi gazed at the landscape below, speaking first, his voice calm and far-reaching.
"Nephew Fang, in your opinion, what is the strongest Martial Art in the world?"
Fang Cheng hadn’t expected such a question, pondered for a moment, and gave a straightforward answer:
"The strongest Martial Art is the one that defeats the enemy."
Shi Chengyi shook his head, turning to face him, his gaze deep as the sea:
"If it’s only about winning or losing, studying Martial Arts isn’t the top choice in this world."
"For ordinary people, the most efficient way of killing is a gun. To mutants with Special Abilities, ten years of hard-earned martial skills might not be as lethal as their mere thought."
"If it’s only for striving and fighting, Martial Arts is secondary."
"Martial Arts isn’t a means of killing."
"There’s a prevalent yet dangerous misconception in the world, rating strength solely by killing methods."
"So, if it’s not for the most efficient killing, what ultimately is the purpose of Martial Arts?"
Shi Chengyi posed the question and answered it himself, his voice carrying a powerful conviction
"The answer is ’Cultivation.’ Martial Arts isn’t a means of killing but a path to ’self-awareness.’"