"Well, yesterday I was just going with the flow and backing you up. Honestly, I couldn’t stand those two old hags, so I figured, why not embarrass them good and proper? Now that I think about it, I’m just mortified and regretful—life choices really do need careful consideration!" On top of the giant oil vat, Fiona Fang thrust her hands forward, sunk her hips, and planted herself in a shaky horse stance right on the rim. She wobbled dangerously, gritting her teeth, and glared at Mr. Yang not far away, shouting, "—If I say all that, will you let me go?"
Mr. Yang lay on the grass with his arms behind his head, looking as chill and content as ever. He weighed a little stone in his hand and flicked it—thwack—right onto Fiona Fang’s forehead: "Nope."
The second stone: "No way."
The third stone: "Give it up."
"Aaaah!" Fiona Fang dodged left and right, her hands flailing wildly, but the three stones still bounced off her forehead. Her frantic movements were too much—she let out a shriek and tumbled right into the oil vat. Splash! The vat was clearly filled with liquid.
"This...feeling..." Mr. Yang took a deep breath, his lungs full of the earthy scent of grass and soil. He opened his eyes to the sky—blue and cloudless—and exhaled slowly like he was savoring a fine smoke, lips curled in a grin: "Ahhh... so refreshing—"
Being someone’s master—especially doing it Dr. Tang style—suddenly gave him that emotional rush, like a long-suffering daughter-in-law finally becoming the matriarch.
"So, so unfair!" Two little hands appeared on the rim of the vat, and Fiona Fang poked out her soaked head, looking like a drowned kitten. She gritted her teeth, her eyebrows twitching: "This is just like a shady shop—come in, but you can’t leave! Yesterday you made it sound so nice, and today you’re coming up with new ways to torture us!"
"Just accept it, this is your fate. Stop whining—compared to what I went through, this is gentle. Back in my training days, there wasn’t even any padding in the vat. If you fell, you just had to suck it up, and man, did that hurt. Later, they added some, but then it was a race against death—if you didn’t learn fast enough, you’d drown in there! Compared to that, what you’re dealing with now is nothing!"
"Your basics are a mess—dabbling here and there, all over the place. You’ve got to rebuild your foundation before you can learn real kung fu." Teacher Yang put on his homeroom teacher face: "Alright, stand up straight! If you don’t pass, no food for you. Move it!"
"Oh..." Fiona Fang peeked out, then ducked her head again when she saw her soaked clothes. "I'm totally drenched, so you can't look over here—ah!" Whack—a pebble bounced off her forehead. Teacher Yang clapped his hands and stood up. "Cut the nonsense. I have zero interest in kids a whole generation younger than me. Get moving!"
Fiona Fang crawled out, face scrunched up, and obediently settled into a horse stance. Rubbing her now-reddened forehead, she puffed up her cheeks. "So mean! Not gentle at all! Who'd want a dumb teacher like this..."
Yep, time had ticked forward a day. The place? A clearing in the woods behind the Moonlight Palace. Yesterday, those two old ladies had yammered on about ancestral rules, men not allowed to stay overnight, princesses keeping their reputations squeaky clean—blah blah, a whole pile of royal drama. They nagged so much that Teacher Yang couldn’t even crash at the palace.
Normally, with his 'don't mess with me unless you want a slap' attitude, Teacher Yang would’ve driven those grannies nuts. But this time, he just left quietly. Past the palace walls was a wooded hill—not technically palace property, but still under the two princesses’ turf. There was even a cozy little cabin, supposedly built by Princess Embroidered Jade and Princess Flower Shifter back in their martial arts training days.
"Sorry about all this, Teacher Yang. I didn’t expect those two old ladies to show up and stir the pot. It all got way out of hand..." Night Lily looked genuinely apologetic. Teacher Yang just nodded, didn’t comfort her, and kept quiet. At times like this, anything Night Lily said would be just for show—he wasn’t waiting for her. "We’ll crash here for a few days. Get me some supplies, will you?" Teacher Yang didn’t bother with pleasantries.
"Yes, sir!" Night Lily hurried off and quickly got everything ready, just as Teacher Yang asked.
So, the next day, the master and his two disciples officially kicked off their teaching adventure.
Bright and early, a big vat was plopped right in the middle of the clearing, leaving Fiona Fang and Rachel Luo baffled about its purpose. Teacher Yang switched into full-on instructor mode, channeling peak homeroom teacher vibes: "Before we start, let me introduce myself. The martial arts I specialize in are nothing like the usual stuff you see on the streets. I call it Martial Arts—Guoshu."
"Martial Arts?" Fiona Fang’s eyes went wide. Sounded totally new to her.
"Told you it’s Martial Arts." Rachel Luo nodded—she’d seen a couple of grandmasters before, and she definitely knew about Ip Man.
"My training's pretty mixed—I’ve dabbled in all kinds of styles, but my core is Internal Martial Arts, specifically Tang Internal Martial Arts." Teacher Yang glanced at both girls. "Internal Martial Arts are all about reaching a higher state. They let you pack the biggest punch with the simplest, most effortless moves."
Both girls flashed back to that time when Teacher Yang went full-on berserker—boxer-clad dudes charging from every direction, only to end up stacked in a neat circle of bodies. Every punch and kick was crisp and clean, like an action montage stitched together with perfect rhythm. That was the moment they both secretly decided to become his disciples; otherwise, they wouldn’t have backed him up like that yesterday.
No doubt about it—this goofball was a master in his own weird way. Both girls believed it, no question.
"Uh-huh, uh-huh!" Fiona Fang nodded like crazy. "Tang Internal Martial Arts? That’s awesome!"
Teacher Yang raised a hand. "Don’t get too hyped yet. Internal Martial Arts are all about that higher state, but they don’t really bulk up your raw strength. Where these techniques came from, the gap between experts and regular folks wasn’t about muscle. Take you, Fiona—even some top-level masters aren’t as strong as you physically."
"Huh?!" Fiona Fang was floored. She knew she was athletic—even without formal training, she’d pieced together her moves from street scraps. But when she ran, she was faster than an Olympic sprinter.
"Just so you know, I’m only a beginner in internal energy, nothing fancy. Sure, I’ve got some tricks for body and mind, but whether you’ll master them—I honestly can’t say." He remembered trying to get his parents to practice Dragon Elephant Technique, but that was a total flop. "So, you might sweat and suffer and get nothing out of it. At this point, are you still in?"
"Heck yes!" Fiona Fang didn’t even hesitate. "After backing you up like that yesterday, you owe us some real skills—no more fluff!"
Teacher Yang nodded, then turned to Rachel Luo. "What about you?" Rachel hesitated for a moment. "I’m just thinking... I’m already twenty-eight. Isn’t it a little late to start?"
"Twenty-eight?" Fiona Fang’s eyes went wide. "No way! Sis, you don’t look a day over twenty!"