Chapter Five: Dragon-Elephant Subjugation Technique!
Buzzzzz...
A mosquito the size of a fingernail buzzed in the dark room. As its body grew larger, so did its appetite. It hadn’t tasted blood in a long time and was ravenous. At last, it found prey and was preparing to strike, plunging its long proboscis into flesh for a satisfying feast, when suddenly a wave of icy dread washed over it. An invisible force bound its body; even its once-agile wings felt leaden.
Danger!
Just as it was about to flee, a flash of white light flickered. It glimpsed a familiar sight tumbling through the air—a severed half of its own body.
Ah, that was its own waist...
“Lost even more weight lately!” That was its final thought before consciousness faded.
The mosquito split in two. The dog-leg knife hovered silently in midair once more, awaiting its next victim.
Such was the terrifying Art of Qi Manipulation that made predators tremble: wielding a blade with qi, killing from afar.
After the Great Cataclysm, countless humans migrated to the New Star. The rest could only eke out a living upon the wasteland. Bathed in radiation, plants ran wild, beasts mutated—growing powerful and aggressive. Even the weakest creatures—cats, mice, mantises—became shockingly ferocious.
To survive in this world, one needed a strong body and formidable self-defense.
Thus, the ancient martial arts long since abandoned by humanity were revived with vigor. Tai Chi, Eight Trigram Palm, the Five Animal Frolics, the Eight Pieces of Brocade—all became popular fitness routines. Some, by fate or fortune, came upon even more miraculous secret techniques.
It was said that on the New Star, humans also practiced these ancient arts to master powerful weapons and roam the galaxies. Some inherited family legacies, some paid a king’s ransom, and others dispatched adventuring parties to Blue Star in search of ancient royal tombs.
After all, Blue Star was the birthplace of martial arts. Though now dilapidated, countless masters and immortals lay buried beneath its stone coffins and heavy earth.
Clearly, Phoenix was one such explorer, come to Blue Star in search of fortune.
Thinking of Phoenix, Tang Fei couldn’t help but marvel again:
Her skin is so very fair!
Tang Fei’s cultivation method was called the Dragon-Elephant Demon-Subduing Art. It had nine tiers, and with each breakthrough, one gained the strength of a dragon and an elephant. Reaching the ninth tier, it was said, would bring the miracle of nine dragons descending from the heavens, elevating the practitioner to the extraordinary—immortal and indestructible.
Of course, Tang Fei suspected the old man was boasting.
After all, the old man had given him this technique, and he hadn’t even broken through the first tier yet. He certainly hadn’t experienced that so-called “unreasonably overbearing” strength of dragons and elephants...
Tang Fei slept poorly that night, tossing and turning restlessly in bed.
He pondered sleep itself: the old man claimed that his “eating” wasn’t the same as ordinary eating, and his “sleeping” wasn’t the usual kind of sleep...
But how different could sleep really be?
There was an ancient television at home, but the electromagnetic storms had long since rendered it useless. The internal components had rusted from disuse.
He did find a few tattered, incomplete magazines beneath the old man’s pillow, reeking of fish. The men and women within were mostly unclothed—but that did little to quench his thirst or impart any useful knowledge. On the contrary, it only made him thirstier...
“What sort of sleep did the old man mean?”
“Did he really experience it?”
“He’s had a thing with Sister Cheng from the village for ages—her gaze at him is as sweet as honey... and still the old man denies it.”
“I’ll have to make him explain himself someday...”
——
Tang Fei lay in the woods, manipulating the dog-leg knife that sliced through wood like mud. Each stroke was precise and clean, trimming excess from the block or carving neat grooves.
He shaped the last block of wood to his satisfaction, blew away the dust, and gathered the oddly shaped pieces he’d carved between his legs. His hands moved swiftly, assembling the parts without thought; the pattern was ingrained deep in his mind. The motions were smooth, flowing like clouds and water.
Soon, a wooden bird appeared in his palm.
He wound the key at the bird’s tail. The bird let out a squeaky cry.
When the time felt right, he hurled the bird skyward. Propelled by inertia, it flapped its wooden wings and took flight.
Flap-flap!
One meter, two meters, three meters...
It climbed higher, step by step.
Just like a real bird.
Tang Fei watched in anticipation, fists clenched—come on, come on...
Suddenly, black smoke began to curl from the bird’s tail. Flames sprouted, and the wooden bird became a firebird, plummeting vertically. With a crash, it shattered on impact with the ground.
Tang Fei sighed softly—still the same as before...
He’d attempted thousands of “test flights” to make this little bird soar. But every time, it ended in failure.
“Still, there’s been clear progress,” Tang Fei consoled himself.
At first, the bird couldn’t fly at all. The moment he threw it, it fell straight down. The highest it reached depended solely on how hard he could throw...
Then there was one meter, two meters, three meters—now it could clear the treetops, more than ten meters high.
“It must be the strength of the wooden spring,” Tang Fei mused. “The spring’s carved from wood. The higher the climb, the more power needed. The spring spins faster and faster, and then it ignites from friction...”
“If only the spring could be made of steel. But even then, if the bird’s body is still wood, isn’t that just fire-making by friction?”
“Unless the whole bird is made of steel...”
Suddenly, the old man’s sharp-tongued face flashed in his mind:
“If you can’t make a wooden one fly, you’re dreaming if you think you can make a steel one!”
Annoying old codger!
“Brother!” called Little Fatty’s voice.
Tang Fei turned to see Little Fatty approaching, leading Phoenix, who was pale and wan.
Phoenix regarded him with a strange look, as if she’d discovered a new continent.
She probably hadn’t expected him to be not only handsome, but also talented.
A mechanic—rumor had it that such a profession was highly valued on the New Star.
If he became an excellent mechanic, he’d never have to worry about “sleeping”...
Wait, why was he thinking about sleep again?
Damn that old man!
Tang Fei eyed Phoenix warily. Was this woman trying to make a move on him?
He was still young...
She could dream on!
He looked at Phoenix and asked, “Why are you up? Is your body better?”
“Much better. After taking your medicine and drinking a bowl of meat soup, I woke up feeling a lot more comfortable... Even the scars are starting to heal,” Phoenix explained.
Though landing in this wild, unfamiliar place had left her in despair, the boy’s concern warmed her heart with an unfamiliar tenderness.
What a strange feeling. Back home, surrounded by people fussing over her, she only ever responded politely, even with a touch of annoyance...
It’s true—when you lack something, you long for it.
On the ruins, even the smallest sign of care was a great comfort.
“Don’t worry. As your wounds heal, they’ll itch a bit. Don’t scratch... That’s just the normal reaction after applying snakeskin tree sap.”
“In a few days, scabs will form. Once they fall off naturally, your skin will be as good as before—perhaps even fairer and smoother.”
“That miraculous?” Phoenix exclaimed in wonder.
On the New Star, the latest skincare products or medical devices could also prevent scarring.
Yet here, Tang Fei merely chewed a few leaves and pressed them to her wounds, achieving the same result.
Clearly, after the Cataclysm, treasures abounded in the ruins—provided one was willing to seek them out.
“Of course,” Tang Fei nodded. “Check again when you’re back. If any wounds haven’t healed, I’ll chew some more snakeskin tree sap for you... A few more applications should do the trick.”
Phoenix nodded. “No problem. I know my body—I’m just a bit weak still.”
“Good, as long as you’re okay.” Tang Fei smiled.
The sooner Phoenix recovered, the sooner she’d return to the New Star, and the sooner he’d receive his reward...
He’d already imagined himself hunting with a pulse gun from his own flyer—the most dazzling monster hunter on the planet.
Phoenix looked at Tang Fei and said, “I want to see where I crashed.”
“You want to check your escape pod?”
“Yes.” Phoenix nodded. “If the comms inside still work, I can contact my family, have them pick me up—and send you your reward at the same time... Wouldn’t that put your mind at ease?”
“Why so formal? The moment I saw you, I knew you were a woman to be trusted.”
Tang Fei waved it off. “But all the better if you can contact your family. I hope you can be reunited soon... This isn’t the place for someone like you.”
Phoenix laughed. “Then where should someone like me be?”
“You belong on the New Star—somewhere that shines,” Tang Fei replied.
Phoenix gazed at him meaningfully. “A boy like you, on New Star, might win the favor of many noble ladies.”
“Really?” Tang Fei beamed. “What would they like about me?”
...
Phoenix looked at Tang Fei’s unwashed face and tangled hair, thinking she must be mad to say something so unfounded...
“Your kindness.” Phoenix forced herself to answer, seeing his eager eyes. “And your courage.”
“And my looks,” Tang Fei added. “I just haven’t washed my face. If I did, I’d be so handsome even I’d be impressed.”
...
With Tang Fei leading the way, the three reached Phoenix’s crash site.
Phoenix hurried to the escape pod, climbed in, and tried to power up the console.
“System failure. Unable to start!”
She tried again, but the AI responded with the same mechanical voice:
“System failure. Unable to start!”
“System failure.” Phoenix’s face fell. Though she’d braced herself for the worst and expected this outcome, the reality was still a blow.
She searched for the pod’s comms, hoping to contact the New Star, but was met with disappointment: the comms were too badly damaged—no signal, no location fix.
No way to locate herself, let alone the New Star. How could she make contact?
“No luck?” Tang Fei leaned over.
Phoenix’s disappointment was infectious.
If Phoenix couldn’t return, he’d never get his “thank-you bounty”... What now?
Thinking of the pulse gun, the flyer, and a ton of supplies slipping away, his heart ached even more than Phoenix’s.
Indeed, human sorrows are universal.
“You see...” Phoenix sensed his eagerness to “send her off” and pointed at the console. “The crash destroyed everything—system won’t start, comms can’t fix a location...”
“Any other way to contact them?” Tang Fei asked.
Phoenix held up her holographic smart wrist-comm. “I’ve still got this...”
“But it’s broken too?” Tang Fei guessed.
Phoenix nodded.
Silence.
A silence as heavy as death.
After a long pause, Tang Fei asked, “What will you do now?”
“I’ll go back with you,” Phoenix replied.
It was her only option, and the best one for now.
After all, this man had saved her life; if he’d done it once, he might do it again. If she left, who knew what evil or monsters she’d encounter...
“What?” Tang Fei was shocked.
His plan with the old man had been to send her back to the New Star as soon as she woke.
That way, there’d be no extra responsibility, less food to share, and maybe a generous reward...
But she wanted to come back with him?
First, he’d need to hunt more game—one more mouth to feed at home.
Second, her identity was unclear, and she’d fallen here after being attacked. If her enemies came looking, what then? They weren’t exactly comrades in adversity.
Third, if she didn’t return, how would he ever get his reward? If she stayed forever, always by his side, it would cut into his hunting efficiency...
“Name your terms,” Phoenix said, calm as ever.
She’d already figured out how to deal with him: if money could solve it, it wasn’t a problem.
And money was something she had in abundance.