Dao Lord

Inside Longzhou's underground fighting arena, the competitors were fired up, and the crowd roared with excitement. But Xue Chou's mind was elsewhere. He'd heard about this place for years and had wanted to come check it out ever since. Back when the Nine Mortal Ways was just getting started, though, he was too busy to make the trip. And even now, it wasn't exactly the perfect time... As he dodged a heavy punch from a burly opponent, his thoughts kept drifting back to the problems brewing at the Nine Mortal Ways. After a few well-timed moves, the strongman slipped up, and Xue Chou sent him crashing down with a single palm strike. As Xue Chou rubbed his hands together, a spark of excitement flickered in his eyes. He'd placed a hefty bet on himself. It looked like his drinks for the next half year were covered. "Let me handle it from here." A strange voice cut through the cheers, silencing the arena. Squinting, Xue Chou turned toward the figure cloaked in black, Chen San, Longzhou's legendary old beast. Longzhou was rife with stories about Chen San: a terrifying fighter with superhuman powers, whose unpredictable and ruthless moves made him a nightmare to face in the ring. But Xue Chou leaned back, a wry smile playing on his lips. Ghost or man, he thought, a master of transformation like him would see right through it all.

Chen San had never faced such a stubborn opponent. The tricks their father taught them relied on speed. Within three breaths, they'd usually scare off any rival. But this man used retreat as advance, turning defense into attack. In mere moments, he'd already found their weak spot. Yes, weak spot. Chen San wasn't an unbeatable monster, just three children masquerading as a ghostly fraud. Finding a con artist's flaw wasn't hard. They were losing ground, but they couldn't admit defeat. They were their father's weapon. A weapon that failed its master would be discarded. To survive, they had to fight on, never stopping.That was the first truth they'd learned in these bloody pits. As the final palm strike came, Xiaoba, standing on Xiaoqi's shoulders, closed her eyes resignedly. After all their struggles, abandonment was their fate. But the deadly wind of the strike halted just beside her face. Xiaoba opened her eyes to see the man grinning, palm upturned to reveal a red-wrapped candy. "I yield." In a burst of smoke, the man dramatically collapsed onto his back, shouting his surrender to the roaring crowd.

When Xue Chou led them out of the underground pits, Xiaoliu was grinning, Xiaoqi was sobbing, and Xiaoba's face remained blank. His sleight of hand had spared their father's pride and their lives. But a weapon with exposed flaws would never be taken back. As they knelt in a row before their father, awaiting their fate, Xue Chou barged in, swinging a tattered cloth bundle. He'd traded a year's worth of liquor for their freedom. "We have nowhere to go," Xiaoqi hiccuped between tears. "We want to follow you," Xiaoliu simpered, her smile ingratiating. "We can be the sharpest blade in your hand," Xiaoba declared solemnly. Xue Chou eyed them one by one, three girls no older than nine, with hastily given names and threadbare clothes, not a single unbruised patch of skin between them. "Fine, you can stay... I've got a grand plan brewing anyway." Just then, New Year's fireworks erupted behind them, their booms mingling with distant cheers of celebration. Xue Chou spun the now-empty bundle on his finger. "But first, let's pick auspicious names... how about Fu, Lu, and Shou?" Fortune. Prosperity. Longevity.