A generation of soldiers begins with Feng Yuxiu traveling through time and space with Xu Sanduo

"Why does my benefactor always go out at night... It's not safe for him."

Wang Bo felt a little worried as he watched Feng Yuxiu leave again.

Wang Li, carrying the baby, walked over and gave Wang Bo a light slap.

Wang Bo immediately shut up, chuckled, "I won't ask, I won't ask. Close the door, I'll cook a big meal for you two tonight."

Wang Li smiled, picked up the child, and walked into the bedroom.

Having struggled in society for so many years, they had long seen through the ways of the world. Therefore, although they had doubts about Feng Yuxiu's behavior, they were all intelligent people.

Naturally, they wouldn't ask a single question, nor would they dare to.

All this wonderful life comes from Feng Yuxiu, whom they regard as their second parents.

-

The night was as dark as ink, once again enveloping the old house of Heyimen.

Shan Ying changed into a dark blue silk training uniform.

This was a choice she had carefully considered. It was neither as formal and restrained as the first time, nor as ambiguous as the light-colored silk dress she wore the second time.

But when she stood in front of the mirror and saw the fabric so smoothly conforming to her body's curves, she couldn't help but be slightly taken aback.

This is already a compromise.

she said to herself.

Pushing open the door to the treatment room, Feng Yuxiu was already there.

He was dressed in a black, narrow-sleeved outfit and was arranging a row of porcelain bottles on the massage table with his back to her.

The light fell on his broad shoulders and back, outlining the taut lines of his muscles.

Hearing footsteps, he didn't turn around, but simply spoke:
"It's half an incense stick earlier than yesterday."

Dan Ying's heart skipped a beat; he even remembered this.

"Start early, finish early." She tried to keep her voice calm as she walked to the massage table.

"What's the rush?" Feng Yuxiu finally turned around, his gaze sweeping over her. "Healing is like practicing martial arts; the worst thing you can do is to be impatient and restless."

His gaze seemed to penetrate her clothes, and Shan Ying felt a strange burning sensation.

She didn't reply, but silently leaned over the massage table and buried her face in the familiar soft pillow.

This posture allowed her to avoid directly facing his eyes, thus preserving a semblance of dignity.

Feng Yuxiu did not act immediately.

He walked around to the side of the massage table, picked up a small celadon bottle, and slowly poured a pale golden medicinal oil into his palm.

A complex aroma of herbs and plants filled the air, a blend of the coolness of mint and a certain indescribable warm fragrance.

“We’ll be using the newly prepared medicated oil today,” he explained, his voice as flat as if he were describing tomorrow’s weather. “It will penetrate deeper, but it might be a little irritating at first.”

Dan Ying gave a vague "hmm".

Feng Yuxiu's hands finally came down.

It wasn't a trial or a gradual approach; it was a direct and precise press on a spot below her shoulder blade.

That was the deepest part of her old wound, and also the forbidden zone that he had deliberately avoided the previous two times.

"Uh."

Caught off guard, Shan Ying let out a muffled groan, her body instinctively tensing up.

It wasn't just ordinary soreness; it was a burning, almost tearing pain, as if countless tiny needles were piercing deep inside.

"Relax," Feng Yuxiu's voice rang out above him. "Resisting will only cause more pain."

His palms were as steady as a rock, and his strength did not lessen at all. Instead, he began to slowly knead and press in circles.

The pain spread like waves, and Shan Ying bit her lower lip, her fingers gripping the edge of the massage table tightly until her knuckles turned white.

Sweat quickly soaked her temples.

Just as she was about to beg him to stop, the burning pain suddenly began to change.

Where the medicated oil penetrated, a strange warmth gradually arose, as if ice that had been frozen for many years was finally melted by the spring sun, and the stiff muscles began to relax and stretch little by little.

The interplay of pain and comfort was so vivid that she could even clearly feel the knots that had been entangled her for years slowly loosening under the pressure of those large hands.

“This injury,” Feng Yuxiu suddenly spoke, circling the area with his finger, “was it from seven years ago? The opponent must have used the Northern School’s Chuojiao technique, which penetrated three layers and injured the deep fascia.”

Shan Ying was startled.

She has almost never mentioned the details of her sparring match with the Northern Martial Arts School seven years ago, let alone the specific cause of her injury.

"how do you know?"

Feng Yuxiu did not answer.

That's the benefit of having a comprehensive file; he even knew when Shan Ying would get her period.

To operate in the martial arts world, all his resources must be in place.

Moreover, once Feng Yuxiu stepped into the martial arts world, he felt as comfortable as a fish entering water.

It wasn't a battle between military regions, nor was it a life-or-death struggle in the United States.

This is his domain, the place where his rules are followed.

His hand continued to move downwards, reaching her waist.

The injury there was more hidden; it was an old ailment she had suffered when she was sixteen years old during a fall while practicing martial arts, and it would ache faintly whenever it was cloudy or rainy.

“The injury here is older,” he said calmly. “It was caused by my unstable foundation when I was young, and I forced myself to practice difficult routines. It wasn’t treated properly at the time, and it left a lasting problem.”

He knows it all.

He seemed to understand this body better than she did herself, with every injury and every old ailment.

This realization made Shan Ying feel a naked sense of exposure, as if she had no secrets from him.

Whether it's physical or from the past.

Feng Yuxiu's hand continued downwards, reaching the tendons on the back of her thigh.

This position was too sensitive, and Shan Ying almost subconsciously tensed her body.

"Relax," he repeated, his tone carrying an undeniable air of authority. "Deputy Sect Leader Shan, if you can't even withstand this much touch, how can you talk about healing?"

His fingers slowly pushed and pressed along the meridians, each touch landing precisely on the acupoints.

The warmth of the medicated oil intertwined with his strength, bringing a strange feeling that was both painful and liberating.

Dan Ying felt her consciousness begin to float, as if she were enveloped in warm water or burned by flames.

She didn't know when Feng Yuxiu started using his elbows.

By the time she realized it, he had already pressed the ulna of his forearm against the muscles on both sides of her spine, pushing down with a slow but firm force.

This is an extremely intimate, yet extremely oppressive, posture.

His upper body was almost pressed against her back, his body heat seeping through the thin fabric, his breath brushing against the back of her neck.

Dan Ying's heart was pounding like a drum.

She tried to struggle, to maintain that last bit of distance, but her body betrayed her.

Under that precise pressure, the deep soreness was released little by little, replaced by an unprecedented sense of ease.

Her body went limp involuntarily, and even... even began to respond to the rhythm of the massage.

"Very good." Feng Yuxiu's deep voice sounded in my ear, with a hint of barely perceptible satisfaction. "Finally, you've learned how to give your body away."

These words were like a bucket of cold water, yet also like a spark of fire. Shan Ying felt a surge of intense shame, but along with it, a strange sense of relief.

Yes, delivery.

Entrusting this battered body to these hands that can bring both pain and comfort, entrusting those stubborn aches to this mysterious and dangerous man.

She closed her eyes, letting herself drift in the waves of pain and pleasure.

Time has lost its meaning.

It could be the time it takes for an incense stick to burn, or it could be an hour.

When Feng Yuxiu finally stopped, Shan Ying was almost slumped on the massage table, her whole body soaked, as if she had just been pulled out of the water.

The silk workout clothes clung tightly to her body, outlining every curve.

She knew she must look extremely disheveled, but she didn't even have the strength to lift her hand to tidy herself up.

Feng Yuxiu stepped back and walked to the copper basin to wash his hands.

Dan Ying struggled to prop herself up, her arms still trembling slightly.

She turned her head and saw herself in the mirror. Her hair was disheveled and stuck to her flushed cheeks, her eyes were glistening with tears, and her lips were red and swollen from being clenched for a long time.

Where is this the same meticulous and awe-inspiring Deputy Master Shan who once commanded respect among his disciples in the martial arts school?
"Today's results are good." Feng Yuxiu, with his back to her, carefully dried his hands with a cloth. "The progress is faster than expected."

Dan Ying remained silent, slowly sitting up. Her legs were still a little weak, so she had to hold onto the edge of the massage table.

Feng Yuxiu turned around, his gaze lingering on her for a moment.

The gaze was no longer deliberately distant as it had been the previous two times; instead, it carried a scrutinizing, almost evaluative focus, as if admiring a work of art that was about to be completed.

“Tomorrow,” he said slowly, “we can try the final stage.”

Dan Ying looked up and met his gaze.

Her throat was dry, and her voice was a little hoarse: "What stage?"

Feng Yuxiu took two steps closer and stopped at a distance that was neither too far to be distant nor too close to be offensive.

The light cast deep shadows on his face, making his eyes appear even more unfathomable.

“The root cause,” he said. “The real problem with all your old injuries isn’t in the muscles or the fascia, but deeper, in the core that you’ve been tense for so long to protect yourself, and that you’ve almost forgotten how to relax.”

He reached out, not to touch her, but to lightly point his fingertip at her heart.

“Here, and here.” His fingers moved to the back of her neck. “These places hold all your tension and defensiveness. To heal completely, you must unlock them.”

Dan Ying felt a chill run down her spine. She knew he was talking about more than just the body.

"What... would happen then?" she heard herself ask, her voice so soft it was almost inaudible.

Feng Yuxiu slightly curled the corners of his lips, a curve that could hardly be called a smile.

“It will hurt. It will hurt more than it does today. But afterwards,” his voice lowered, with a strange allure, “you will gain true freedom. From the pain, and from…some kind of bondage.”

He paused, his gaze locking onto her eyes: "But this process requires your complete and unreserved surrender. Not the physical surrender like today, but a deeper surrender of trust."

Dan Ying's heart started pounding.

She knew what he was talking about.

It was an invitation, but also an abyss.

Getting over this might truly free me from years of suffering.

But she might also lose some things she has always cherished.

For example, the last line of defense, or that fragile self-control.

"What if... I don't want to continue?" she asked tentatively, even though she already knew the answer.

Feng Yuxiu's expression remained unchanged. "Then this ends here. Your injuries will improve, but they won't be cured. The old ailment will still remind you on rainy days, limiting you at certain crucial moments." He paused. "The choice is yours, Deputy Sect Leader Shan."

He used the term again, but this time it sounded incredibly ironic.

Shan Ying lowered her head, looking at her hands that were still trembling slightly.

These hands once held swords, guided disciples, and supported half of the He Yi Sect's territory.

At this moment, however, I am too weak to even hold on tightly.

She recalled Xiahou Wu's instructions before his departure, the disciples in the martial arts school who looked up to her, and how she had used a tough exterior to cover up all her pain and exhaustion over the years.

Maybe...maybe I can indulge myself this time?
Just this once, I will entrust this body, and even more, to this dangerous man.

Let's see what this so-called freedom really tastes like.

"I..." she began, her voice hoarse.

Feng Yuxiu waited quietly, without urging him, but the silent pressure filled the entire room.

Shan Ying raised her head and finally met his gaze.

She saw her own vulnerable and confused state reflected in those unfathomable eyes.

“I… need to think about it,” she finally said.

Feng Yuxiu nodded, as if he had already expected this answer. "I'll be here waiting for you at this time tomorrow. Whether you come or not is your choice."

He turned and walked toward the door, but stopped at the door without looking back.

“By the way,” his voice drifted over, “your performance tonight was much better than I expected. Especially in the last part, you’ve learned to find comfort in pain and release in delivery. That’s remarkable, Shan Ying.”

He no longer called him Deputy Sect Leader.

The door closed gently, and the footsteps faded into the distance.

Dan Ying sat alone on the massage table, remaining motionless for a long time.

The room was filled with the lingering scent of medicinal oil, mixed with her own sweat, and an indescribable, ambiguous atmosphere.

She slowly raised her hand and touched the back of her neck.

The sensation of his fingertips still lingered there.

The woman in the mirror still had a dreamy look in her eyes, but something had changed.

Shan Ying suddenly remembered Feng Yuxiu's words before he left.

"You have learned to find comfort and experience release."

Yes, she learned it.

She walked up to the mirror, looked at herself, slowly raised her hand, and untied the ties of her practice clothes.

The silk slid down her skin, revealing a body covered in scars and wounds.

Those are the marks left by the treatment, and also some kind of hidden proof.

Looking at herself in the mirror and at the marks, Shan Ying suddenly chuckled softly.

There was self-mockery, relief, and a hint of dangerous expectation that she didn't want to delve into.

tomorrow.

She will come tomorrow.

She knew that when she walked into this room again, she would bring not only her battered body, but also her heart, ready to be surrendered, with only the last shred of dignity left.

The night breeze blew into the room, carrying the fragrance of jasmine from the courtyard.

Instead of putting on her clothes, Shan Ying stood in front of the mirror, gazing at herself silently for a long time.

He stared at the single deputy sect leader who was slowly disappearing.

And that woman who was slowly emerging, a woman even she herself felt unfamiliar with. (End of Chapter)