Here's a precise English translation of
At the *Golden Fish Restaurant* in Ho Mein City...
The Golden Fish was the finest eatery in town, renowned for its fiery local liquor and signature dishes: grilled golden carp and shark-fin soup. At noon, the place buzzed with patrons—merchants, common folk, and martial artists—all chatting in their own circles.
In the corner, a lone youth slurped noodles in silence, a bamboo hat obscuring his face. This was *Little Monkey*.
Suddenly, three men entered, clad in form-fitting black uniforms with swords strapped to their backs. Embroidered on their chests—a golden blade crossed with a pine branch—marked them as members of the *Golden Blade Sect*, a righteous faction respected for their peerless swordsmanship.
The trio argued in hushed tones before their leader, a man of striking demeanor, approached Little Monkey's table.
Patrons, sensing trouble, hastily paid and fled.
**Golden Blade Leader**: *"We know you're the one who killed Abbot Shao Lin. Surrender peacefully. Justice will prevail—the entire martial world hunts you now."*
His words were honeyed, but Little Monkey, disillusioned with the world, heard only venom.
**Little Monkey**: *"What if I refuse?"*
The sect's reputation for fairness meant little to him. His heart, hardened by rage, saw only hypocrisy.
---
**A Fatal Exchange**
The leader sighed. *"Then forgive me, friend."*
His finger darted toward Little Monkey's shoulder—a *Pressure Point Strike*, the sect's secret technique. Simultaneously, his left palm aimed for the chest.
Instinct flared. Little Monkey's body moved on its own—his left hand circled like a wheel, deflecting the strike, while his right fist drove forward like a piston.
**Technique**: *"Wheel of Samsara"* (10th Form from the *White Stallion Manual*).
The leader choked blood, collapsing lifeless.
**Surviving Sect Member**: *"You ruthless devil! This debt *will* be repaid!"*
The two fled.
Another death. Another notch in Little Monkey's infamy.
---
**Jian Nan Xian Mountain: The Hidden Training Ground**
Once home to the vanished *Chuan Jian Sect*, the mountain now lay forgotten, its trails overgrown. Only beasts and the occasional lost hunter ventured here.
Beneath a secluded waterfall, Little Monkey trained.
He cycled through the *Ten Forms*:
1. **"Mountain-Split Fist"**: A straightforward double strike.
2. **"Sky Dragon"**: A deceptive kick followed by a twin-palm smash.
But as he practiced, he noticed flaws—*transitions between forms were rigid, leaving openings*.
Yet through relentless repetition, his movements smoothed. The Ten Forms *merged*, flowing like water. What began as rigid techniques now adapted dynamically—*soft as clouds, sharp as lightning*.
The *White Stallion Manual* had evolved in his hands.
**Epiphany**: *"No technique is unbreakable. But mastery bends even the impossible."*
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