Chapter Two: The Twin Sisters

The eccentric man was dressed in casual attire, a white leisure suit, and his figure dancing by the picturesque pavilion appeared particularly gallant and imposing. His forehead was broad, and his short, golden-white temples gave him a vigorous aura. Having finished a set of martial arts movements, he glanced at young Zhixing, who was still clumsily imitating his actions, smiled gently, and then retreated into the pavilion to meditate and regulate his breathing.

He Zhixing made a funny face at him and continued to practice the difficult moves left behind by the eccentric. In that moment, the two—one moving, one still—stood in opposition, surrounded by mountains, beautiful scenery, a small pavilion, the two of them, the early morning, and a light rain mixed with snow. Together, they formed a charming tableau, a scene worthy of lingering over.

More than half an hour passed before the middle-aged man, who looked to be in his forties, finished his meditation. Opening his eyes, he observed Zhixing still diligently practicing, nodded with a smile, and beckoned from a distance: “Boy, come here, I have something to tell you.”

He Zhixing halted his actions and came before the elder, respectfully greeting, “Master.”

The old eccentric looked at him kindly, nodding with a smile: “Boy, practice well. I need to go to Zhejiang to handle some matters. If I haven’t returned in two years, you should visit Wangshi Garden to find me when you have time.” With that, he took out a finely carved little wooden figurine from his robe—a beautiful woman whom Zhixing did not recognize. He accepted it and stammered, “Master...”

The moment he took it, he was surprised by its weight. Upon inspection, he exclaimed, “Ah… Old sandalwood!” He knew sandalwood—last year, when he went with his grandfather to another village for carpentry, he saw an old monk in a temple striking a wooden fish made of sandalwood. The sound was deep and resonant, and as the monk chanted and knocked, it seemed to penetrate the soul. Zhixing had then asked his grandfather why the sound was so pleasant and what kind of wood was used, and his grandfather had told him it was sandalwood.

He Zhixing turned the wooden beauty over in his hands, almost dropping it in astonishment. What surprised him even more was the superb patina—the texture was smooth and lustrous, the curves and contours perfectly harmonious. The hair, eyes, nose, eyebrows, small mouth, face, and attire together accentuated an extraordinary beauty. Having grown up working wood with his grandfather, Zhixing understood the artistry of wood carving—his mouth hung open in shock, unable to close for a long while. “Master, this beauty is exquisite! The knife work is even more remarkable...”

The old man looked at him with approval, clearly pleased. “Yes, not bad. You are a teachable child, and it shows my apprentice is clever. Since you can discern the knife work, tell me what you see.”

Zhixing pondered and then replied, “Master, look at this figurine. No matter the demeanor or expression, it is lifelike. Her eyes reveal a gentle, watery gaze, and the carving technique used on the pupils is superb. To carve a face and then eyes so well on such a small piece of wood requires great skill. The eyes are flawless, with no stray cuts or errors. From the pupils to the bags under the eyes, I see no evidence of repeated carving—it appears as if it was done in a single stroke, a stroke that conquers all! And here, the slender fingers naturally touch her hair, the delicate smile at the corner of her mouth is perfectly rendered. This beauty is stunningly peerless, her figure lithe and graceful down to the calves, every curve captivating. This is truly a demonic presence. The knife work flows from start to finish, as if carved in one go. Master, did you carve this?”

The elder slyly glanced at him. “Do you think I carved it?”

Zhixing replied, “Yes.”

The old man smiled but said nothing. He then produced an old book from his robe—the cover was tattered, its pages thick and bound by hand. On the front were four large clerical script characters: ‘Hanyang Knife Technique.’ The elder handed him the book. “Zhixing, I found this when wandering far away, in a ruined temple in the forests of Jiangxi, inside a stone altar. The secret manual and the wooden figurine were together. I do not know which predecessor left them behind.”

Zhixing received the book. The eccentric continued, “I can carve wooden figures, but I am not yet able to achieve the lifelike precision of the one in your hand. Such knife skill requires great mastery, and your master still needs a few more years of practice. I have learned the knife techniques left by our predecessors, so I am passing them on to you. Open the secret manual and take a look…”

Zhixing opened the manual and found it detailed the forms of the Hanyang Knife Technique, with every six moves forming a section, six sections in all, thirty-six moves altogether, complete with explanations and practice pointers. However, the explanations were written in clerical script, which Zhixing could not decipher. At first, he thought it was just ordinary carving skills, but his master’s words dispelled that notion: “Boy, don’t think these are just ordinary carving techniques. If you do, you’re gravely mistaken. Watch closely and I’ll show you a few moves.”

With that, he began to demonstrate. Zhixing’s master picked up a six-inch dried twig from somewhere and wielded it, displaying martial arts moves Zhixing had never seen before. The master’s actions flowed from one to the next, each move tightly connected, and Zhixing was stunned by the power. This was precisely the kind of formidable martial art he longed to learn, and in that moment, his eyes could barely keep up. Although the master used only a short twig, and did not direct any killing intent at Zhixing, he could still sense a fierce, cold aura, causing him to shiver. In the blink of an eye, the master had finished a complete set of knife techniques, and Zhixing saw him pause, smiling at him. Zhixing reacted excitedly, “Master, is that all? I haven’t finished watching your moves yet!” He was so eager, he almost protested.

The old man tapped his head. “If you can’t remember, you can’t blame me. I’ll demonstrate one more time for you, but watch carefully! I’ll slow it down this time…”

Zhixing was overjoyed. “Yes, Master, I’ll watch closely!”

******

The eccentric old man departed, leaving He Zhixing alone to practice the moves from the manual. Immersed in perfecting the techniques his master had taught him, he practiced until he felt he had basically mastered them. Only then did he look up and realize, “Eh? Where’s Master?” He couldn’t find even a trace of him, but instead discovered two unexpected guests—two mischievous young girls. Seeing Zhixing lost in thought, they asked, “Dummy, what are you thinking about?”

Zhixing ignored them, still deep in thought. He slapped his forehead, remembering that his master had whispered something in his ear, “Disciple, I’m leaving. Practice well, and remember to come see me in Zhejiang…” Only then did he realize his master had left.

The two quirky girls, seeing Zhixing ignore them and lost in his own world, exchanged a mischievous glance. They ran over to the nearby stone and shrubbery, broke off two tender branches, and giggling, approached him. Seeing him still sitting, they flanked him, tickling him with the branches and teasing his head, “Hehe, wake up! Dummy, sitting here daydreaming all alone…”

Zhixing was startled awake, and saw the two pretty girls—identical twins. “All right, you dared to tease me, watch me…” He hadn’t finished his sentence when the girl on his right stood up and shouted, “Ah Yan, run! The dummy’s awake!” The one on the left gave an “Oh!” and the two dashed off in different directions. Zhixing couldn’t let them escape; he chose the one on the left and gave chase.

A-Ling realized the boy had given up chasing her sister and was after her instead, panicked, “Oh dear!” She sprinted towards the path below the stone terrace. Zhixing had been practicing on a flat stone meadow surrounded by grass and trees, below which lay a rugged path encircled by large rocks and dense shrubs. Two winding paths converged at the base of a bald rock, thick with bushes and small trees. The girls met up and hid among the shrubs and small trees. Zhixing chased them onto the path, looked left and right, and couldn’t find them. “Eh, where did they go?” He began searching nearby.

The two girls exchanged glances, covering their mouths and stifling their laughter, afraid any sound might give them away. They held back their giggles. Eventually, Zhixing noticed something unusual—though their hiding was clever, A-Ling’s red shirt peeked out from the shrubbery, exposing their location. Zhixing crept over, whispered, “No need to hide, I’ve found you,” and pounced, embracing both girls in laughter.

The girls blushed deeply, for the first time being hugged by a strange boy besides their parents, feeling a bit shy. Zhixing quickly let them go, and soon their mother’s voice echoed, “Ling’er, Yan’er, where are you?” Their mother had returned from worshipping at the mountain temple and was searching for them.

The two girls responded quickly, “Mom, we’re here!”

Not long after, Zhixing saw a beautiful young woman descend, around twenty-seven or twenty-eight years old, with a youthful, extraordinary appearance and a stunning figure. Their mother looked at the two girls waiting by the mountain path and the boy with them, cast a surprised glance at Zhixing, then turned to her daughters, saying, “So you’re here—I searched everywhere. Let’s go home. You’re Old He’s grandson, aren’t you? Haven’t seen you in years, you’ve grown so much.”

“Yes, Auntie.”

“Come visit our house when you have time.” With that, she took Yan’er’s hand and led them down the mountain.