The Virgin’s Escape into the Cave

The burly man, seeing his initial strike fall short, allowed a flicker of surprise to cross his features. Yet, without pausing to let me recover, he unleashed another palm strike, bellowing, “You little brat, I’m speaking to you! Are you deaf or mute?”

Several exchanges passed, yet I had not once retaliated, relying solely on my mastery of light-footed movement and an intimate understanding of his palm techniques to keep him at bay. The burly man’s repeated, fruitless strikes fueled his frustration, leading him to roar like a tiger and unleash a torrent of curses. Downstream, his companions egged him on with fervent shouts.

Suddenly, one of his cohorts cried out, “Boss, there’s no need to bother with martial ethics when dealing with a petty ruffian like this! Just draw a blade and lop off his manhood!”

The burly man, clearly exasperated by his prolonged inability to land a blow, suddenly whipped the long saber from his back. In an instant, a blinding flash of silver light erupted, its cold gleam dazzling to the eye, a testament to the blade’s formidable sharpness.

Watching this unfold, a knot of anxiety tightened in my chest. Just days prior, while inspecting my travel pack, I’d noted the absence of a long sword. Upon querying my father via message, he’d explained that since I wasn’t traveling by conventional means like train or carriage, and was venturing out alone, carrying a controlled weapon would almost certainly lead to my apprehension by the imperial patrol. He had omitted it for my safety. Yet, in this moment, his foresight left me utterly helpless.

Even as these thoughts whirled through my mind, the burly man across from me let out a guttural growl, and his saber descended in a sudden, vicious cleave. The stance he adopted was unmistakably that of the authentic, direct lineage ‘Five Tigers Severing the Gate Saber’ technique!

Barely managing to sidestep the powerful cleave with my nimble footwork, I inwardly conceded that this confrontation had taken a turn for the worse. Left with no recourse, I steeled myself and cried out, “Brave warrior, hold your hand! Grant me a moment to speak!”

The burly man’s saber sliced through empty air, and he was already preparing a backhand cleave when my voice reached him. He halted his weapon mid-swing, his voice a low, gravelly rumble. “So, the little brat *can* speak after all! What other nonsense do you have to spout?”

“Uh, well, you see, uh, Senior, your humble junior here is but eighteen years of age, newly enrolled, and still, still a virgin…” I stammered, a blush creeping up my neck as I formulated my strange explanation.

The burly man’s brow furrowed in a deep frown, and he roared, “What in the damn hell does that have to do with me?! I merely asked how you intend to settle the score with us brothers for what just transpired! Why are you spouting such utterly useless drivel!”

I quickly elaborated, “That is precisely what I’m explaining to you, Senior! You see, your junior is still a virgin, uh, and thus, what transpired moments ago was, uh, virgin boy’s urine. If you, Senior, possess even a rudimentary understanding of medicine, you would know that virgin boy’s urine is also referred to as ‘Reincarnation Wine’ or ‘Restoration Broth,’ renowned for its efficacy in treating bloody coughs, hematemesis, contusions, and sprains. It’s a truly potent tonic, you understand…”

Before I could even conclude my absurd explanation, a saber descended in a sweeping arc, accompanied by the burly man’s thunderous roar: “You insolent little brat, how dare you trifle with me! Brothers, to arms! Hack him to bits!”

The men downstream let out a unified roar, drawing their sabers in unison. For a fleeting moment, the sun’s rays slanted, and brilliant flashes of saber light danced all around. I twisted my foot, spinning deftly to evade the initial overhead strike, and from the corner of my eye, I glimpsed the others drawing their weapons, their stances bearing a distinct resemblance to the ‘Five Tigers Severing the Gate Saber’ technique. It was then that I understood, with stark clarity, the depth of the predicament I had stumbled into.

In a one-on-one duel, armed with a sword, I would certainly not have feared these senior disciples from the Greenwood Academy; even against two, I wouldn’t necessarily be at a complete disadvantage. But with four or five men charging simultaneously, each wielding a saber and executing the ruthless, killer moves of the Five Tigers Severing the Gate Saber, while I stood utterly empty-handed, my options were, quite frankly, nonexistent.

It was at this critical juncture that I made a most valiant decision: ‘a true hero knows better than to suffer immediate loss!’

Seizing the opportune moment as the burly man’s saber swept past, before he could adjust his stance, and with the remaining assailants still downstream and out of striking range, I cast aside all pretense of holding back. My footwork shifted with lightning speed, my body twisting and soaring like a swallow diving into a thicket. I flipped onto a treetop, then leaped and landed, riding the wind as I vanished into the distance, escaping without a trace!

As the adage goes, among the Thirty-Six Stratagems, retreating is the supreme choice. If I couldn’t contend with them, surely I could at least evade them?

I fled for my life, my dantian feeling utterly drained, my internal breath growing shallow. These persistent ruffians truly possessed an unwarranted zeal! Was it not merely an accidental sip of some potent tonic? It wasn’t a blood feud, nor the abduction of a wife; did they truly need to hound me for over an hour without relent?

And indeed, they had the gall to commit such a crude act, even leveraging their numerical superiority to initiate a full-blown dragnet search for me throughout the mountain forest. Who exactly had I provoked to deserve such treatment?

Perceiving the overwhelming disparity in numbers, finding myself in a disadvantageous terrain, and acutely aware of my dwindling internal energy and qi, I continued my desperate flight. In an accidental glance, I spied what appeared to be a mountain cave nestled amidst the verdant foliage not far off. My eyes flickered, and a plan solidified in my mind: ‘I would seek refuge within this hidden sanctuary, if only to momentarily escape their relentless pursuit!’

The faint tremor of wind in my ears signaled the enemy’s proximity. I cast aside my father’s old admonishments—that while my head might break and blood might flow, the prestige of the Old Liu family must never be tarnished. In this desperate moment, my only guiding principle was: ‘As long as the green hills endure, there will always be firewood to gather!’

I squeezed and slid, disappearing into the cave’s maw in a single fluid motion. Even as I entered, I didn’t forget to reach back, pulling the long grass and low bushes over the entrance, concealing it completely. No sooner had these tasks been completed than I heard the distinct sound of footsteps outside the cave, unmistakably two burly men tracking my path.

“Fourth Brother, have you spotted that little rascal?” a gruff voice panted, its tone ragged with exertion.

“Not directly, no, but others have seen him. That little brat must have fled somewhere nearby. Boss, rest assured, he won’t escape!” another voice, slightly younger and softer, responded in a low tone.

“Hmph, offending us brothers, and he imagines he can simply run off?” the gruff voice sneered with cold contempt.

“Precisely, precisely. Uh, after all this running, I’m rather parched again… Bah, that motherf***ing little brat!” the younger voice readily assented, yet the casual mention of thirst immediately reignited their fury.

“Hmph, once we get our hands on that little brat, we’ll castrate him without fail!” the burly leader, his voice rough with menace, let out another enraged snort.

Before long, a clamor of footsteps resumed, gradually fading into the distance. It seemed these two had split up, venturing elsewhere in their search for me.

As these thoughts settled, I slowly exhaled, though I dared not make too much noise, fearing detection. Turning my gaze inward, I was surprised to find that this cave, half-concealed by the surrounding grass, possessed a narrow entrance that, upon closer inspection, truly unveiled a world within itself. Beyond a winding, downward-sloping path, the space suddenly broadened, revealing what appeared to be a vast, accessible cavern. Given the incline of the entrance, one could even faintly discern the sky overhead when looking up.

Years ago, I recalled my father—who had journeyed across the four seas and the nine lands of the Central Plains—remarking on water’s unparalleled persistence, its relentless, wearing nature. The adage ‘dripping water wears through stone’ perfectly encapsulated this truth. Reflecting now, it seemed plausible that this very cave had been sculpted by the ceaseless flow of spring water.