The Phoenix of the Slums

Lingyan Temple – Lotus Training Chamber, Sublevel Three

A faint incense mist curled across the cold stone floor.

Tianming stood alone under the flickering ceiling lantern, facing the trainer known only as Master Xie—a man once whispered to have fought seven triad enforcers blindfolded... and walked away without a scratch.

The chain whip in his hand uncoiled with a sharp clang.

“Step back,” Zhao muttered from behind the door, pistol raised.

Tianming didn’t move.

“I’ve got this.”

Fang whispered, “You’re still bleeding—”

“I said, I’ve got this.”

Xie struck first.

With a flick of the wrist, the chain whip cracked through the air, its metal segments slicing toward Tianming’s throat.

Tianming ducked— narrowly missing the whip as it carved through a pillar behind him, splintering wood like butter.

He rushed forward.

Xie stepped back, twisting—sending the chain into a spinning arc around Tianming’s legs.

Too fast.

Tianming jumped, narrowly avoiding the entrapment, and landed with a downward punch toward Xie’s sternum.

Xie twisted his torso, letting the punch graze past—and responded with a snap kick to Tianming’s ribs.

THUMP!

Tianming grunted, spun, and countered with a hook punch to Xie’s jaw.

Connected.

The monk’s head snapped sideways—then returned. Unfazed.

He smiled.

Chain whirl. Strike two.

This time, Xie spun the whip overhead in a buzzing halo before launching it in a diagonal slice across Tianming’s chest.

Tianming raised his forearms—

SLASH.

The whip coiled around his arm, biting into flesh. Blood spilled.

But Tianming grabbed the chain with both hands, pulled—

And yanked Xie forward into a powerful flying knee straight to the nose.

CRACK.

Xie staggered, nose bent sideways. The chain loosened.

Tianming spun— elbow to the neck—Xie dropped to one knee.

But the monk swept low, tripping Tianming hard onto his back.

WHAM.

Tianming gasped. Xie rose, spinning the chain again.

“You’re strong,” he said. “But pain makes the mind louder than instinct.”

The whip lashed down.

Tianming rolled, grabbing a wooden bo staff from a nearby rack. He swung upward—

CLANG!

Wood met steel. Sparks flew.

Xie danced around, sending the chain in deceptive arcs, while Tianming pivoted, parrying the strikes with precise staff blocks and redirects.

Xie whipped the chain low—

Tianming blocked with the staff, then slid the shaft forward, catching the chain, and with a twist—

Wrapped it tight.

He pulled hard, dragging Xie off balance—

Then slammed the end of the staff into Xie’s chest.

CRUNCH.

Xie coughed blood, dropped the chain.

Tianming discarded the staff—fought barehanded again.

He grabbed Xie by the collar, drove his knee into his gut, then spun around for a backfist to the temple.

Xie collapsed.

Blood trickled from his mouth.

“Go ahead,” he coughed. “Kill me.”

Tianming looked down. Breathing heavy. Wound bleeding again.

“I’m not here to kill kids’ teachers. I’m here to end the monsters that control you.”

He turned to Zhao and Fang. “Grab the drives. Raid the archive room. Burn everything else.”

Flames rose from the underground sanctum.

Fang emerged with a hard drive. “Encrypted data on all assassins, missions, and transactions. Names. Faces.”

Zhao tossed a lotus mask into the fire.

Tianming stared at the smoke curling into the moonlit sky.

“Lu Qingshan thought he could send shadows. I’ll show him light.”