Tomb raiding live stream: Starting as the mute Zhang

It was early morning, and the sky was still gray and hazy.

The villa was quiet, with only the faint sounds of Aunt Chen preparing breakfast coming from the kitchen. The grass and trees in the yard were covered with dew, and the air was crisp and clean.

When Zhang Qiling pushed open the door to his room, the door next door opened at the same time. "Zhang Qiling" stood in the doorway, the two looked at each other, neither of them spoke, and went downstairs one after the other.

The courtyard was still dimly lit. Instead of stretching as usual, they walked to the relatively spacious and flat open space in the center of the courtyard and stood facing each other, about five steps apart.

It's been a long time since our last sparring session. Since returning from the Qinling Mountains, I've been recuperating and resting, focusing on gentle conditioning each day. But some things can't be achieved through rest alone.

We need to "move," to confirm the extent of our physical recovery, to reawaken our dormant fighting instincts, and also... to rediscover that unspoken rhythm of camaraderie before venturing into even more dangerous places next time.

Zhang Qiling moved his right wrist, which was wrapped in bandages, slowly clenching and unclenching his fingers. Beneath the charred skin, the new flesh was still somewhat fragile, but the strength transmitted from his bones and meridians was much more solid than a few days ago. "Zhang Qiling" also turned his left shoulder, where a deep claw mark had healed well, but there was still a faint pulling sensation when he made large movements.

Both of them slightly lowered their center of gravity.

There was no opening move, no warning.

The next second, Zhang Qiling moved. Instead of charging straight ahead, he slid his left foot outward, his figure as swift as willow catkins in the wind, carrying an elusive and unpredictable quality, instantly cutting into the right side of "Zhang Qiling". His left hand, fingers together like a knife, stabbed straight at his ribs! This move was fast, accurate, and silent, his fingertips taut, carrying the sharpness of cutting through the wind, but he did not use his full strength, more like a test and a coercion.

"Zhang Qiling" seemed to have anticipated this. The instant the finger struck his body, he twisted his waist sharply, narrowly avoiding the thrust. At the same time, using the force of the twist, his right elbow slammed backward, aiming precisely at Zhang Qiling's chest, which was slightly exposed from the forward thrust! The elbow strike was powerful and heavy, accompanied by a short, muffled thud.

Zhang Qiling didn't retract his thrusting left hand; instead, he flipped his wrist, transforming his fingers into a palm, and slapped down on the side of the incoming elbow. He didn't block it head-on, but rather used the momentum to deflect the force. Simultaneously, using his right foot as a pivot, he spun half a circle like a top, his right leg whipping towards Zhang Qiling's lower body!

Zhang Qiling was slightly pulled to the side, but he did not panic. Just as the sweeping leg was about to arrive, he suddenly exerted force with his left leg. Instead of retreating, he took a small half step forward, bent his knee slightly, and used his shin to accurately hit the side of Zhang Qiling's sweeping leg!

"Snapped!"

A soft thud echoed as the two men separated instantly, each taking two steps back to regain their footing. Their movements were lightning fast; in just two or three seconds, they had completed two dangerous exchanges of offense and defense.

Without panting, without pausing.

"Zhang Qiling" launched the first attack. His figure blurred, as if he had transformed into three afterimages, simultaneously rushing towards Zhang Qiling from the left, right, and center! This was not an illusion, but a visual illusion created by extreme speed combined with changing footwork. Ordinary people could not distinguish his true form at all.

Zhang Qiling's eyes narrowed. Instead of advancing, he retreated half a step, his body instantly lowering by half a meter, almost touching the ground. Ignoring the three afterimages, his gaze was fixed on the almost invisible movement of the shadow beneath the feet of "Zhang Qiling's" true form! Just as "Zhang Qiling's" true form's fist was about to touch his face, Zhang Qiling's right foot, sliding along the ground, moved like a venomous snake emerging from its hole, its toe hooking up and pointing towards the outside of "Zhang Qiling's" supporting left ankle!

This attack was cunning and ruthless, striking where the opponent would have to defend. Zhang Qiling had no choice but to retract his fist, his left foot changing direction in mid-air, turning the point into a stomp, fiercely stepping towards Zhang Qiling's hooked instep! But Zhang Qiling had already used the momentum of sliding on the ground, using his waist and abdomen to generate power, his whole body springing to the side like a boneless fish, causing the foot to miss its mark. At the same time, he braced his left hand on the ground, and his right leg, like a scorpion's tail, lashed out from below, kicking Zhang Qiling's jaw!

Zhang Qiling tilted his head back and retreated, narrowly avoiding the attack, a few strands of hair on his forehead ruffled by the force of his leg kick. A glint flashed in his eyes, and he no longer clung to close combat. He suddenly lunged backward, creating a distance of three or four meters between himself and Zhang Qiling. Immediately afterward, he pushed off with his feet, his entire body like an arrow released from a bow, pouncing again. But this time, the trajectory of his attack was no longer a straight line, but rather carried a subtle, unpredictable arc. His palms flew, the palm shadows layered upon layer, like crashing waves, covering Zhang Qiling's vital points! The whistling wind from his palms even stirred up fallen leaves in the courtyard, causing them to swirl around.

Facing the barrage of palm strikes, Zhang Qiling no longer dodged. He exhaled, and though his right hand was wrapped in bandages, he still clenched it into a fist, neither dodging nor avoiding, and thrust his fist straight into the center of the layers of palm strikes! This punch had no fancy moves, only a fearless and unyielding courage that overcame skill with sheer force. Wherever his fist struck, the air emitted a deep, resonant boom.

"Bang!"

Fist and palm collided! It wasn't a loud, head-on collision, but a dull thud, like striking thick leather. The palm strike dissipated, and Zhang Qiling was forced back half a step by the impact, his palm numb. Zhang Qiling's punch was also blocked, and his right arm paused slightly.

In that delicate moment when the old force had been exhausted and the new force had not yet been generated, before Zhang Qiling could even take a proper step back, he twisted his waist in an incredible way. Using the momentum of his retreat, his left leg, like a flexible whip without joints, swept from an extremely tricky angle, close to the ground, towards Zhang Qiling's only supporting right ankle! The speed and the strangeness of this change of move completely exceeded the scope of conventional combat.

Zhang Qiling seemed to have anticipated this move. Unable to retract his right fist in time, he simply braced himself with it, inverting himself to the ground, causing the sweeping kick to miss. Simultaneously, his inverted legs crossed like scissors, aiming to strangle Zhang Qiling's neck!

Zhang Qiling retreated hastily, his legs twisting into the air. He pushed off with both hands, his body flipping in mid-air before landing steadily. The two faced each other again, several meters apart, their breathing slightly rapid and sweat beading on their foreheads, but their eyes shone with an astonishing intensity, locked tightly on each other.

Only the sound of the wind rustling through the leaves and the two people's slightly heavier breathing remained in the courtyard.

"Holy crap..." Fatty Wang, who had been lying by the second-floor window, rubbed his eyes and muttered, "Is this a fight or a dance? It's making my eyes blurry..."

Wu Xie also woke up and stood by his window, watching intently. Although he didn't understand the intricacies of the fight, the lightning-fast exchanges, the extremely dangerous changes in tactics, and the almost precognitive understanding and confrontation between the two men all shook him to his core. This was more of a focused "sparring match" than the life-or-death struggle in the tomb, but the intensity was in no way diminished.

Hei Xiazi had somehow wandered into the courtyard, leaning against a pillar, his eyes behind his sunglasses fixed on the scene. He clicked his tongue in amazement, "You've improved... That movement, that reaction. Dumb Zhang's punch was powerful. Brother Qi Ling's kick was cunning. Not bad, not bad."

Xie Yuchen and Huo Xiuxiu also heard the commotion and stood at the study window watching. Xie Yuchen whispered, "Their recovery speed is faster than expected. This level of confrontation does not harm their injuries; on the contrary, it can accelerate the circulation of qi and blood and the recovery of muscle memory."

"It's more like... a period of adjustment," Huo Xiuxiu said thoughtfully. "After Qinling, they all seem... a little different. This sparring session felt more..."

"We understand each other better now," Xie Yuchen added.

In the courtyard, Zhang Qiling and "Zhang Qiling" slowly relaxed their stances. There was no winner or loser, nor was a winner or loser necessary. This brief but intense sparring session had achieved its purpose.

Zhang Qiling shook his slightly numb right hand, walked to the tap by the yard, turned it on, and rinsed the sweat off his face and arms. "Zhang Qiling" also came over and silently washed himself.

"How is your hand?" Zhang Qiling glanced at the bandages that were bleeding again.

"It's alright," Zhang Qiling replied briefly, wiping the water droplets with a clean cloth and checking it. It was just a slight crack, nothing serious.

"Your leg technique," Zhang Qiling looked at "Zhang Qiling's" left leg, "is almost there."

Zhang Qiling nodded: "Hmm. It feels right now."

The simple conversation contained evaluations and recognitions that only they themselves understood.

The sun finally rose fully above the horizon, casting a golden glow across the courtyard. Morning exercise was over, and the daily routine officially began. But everyone knew in their hearts that these days of training, both peaceful and intense, wouldn't last long.

The direction of Changbai Mountain, the compass needle slightly deflected in the night, is like an invisible thread, pulling at everyone's heart.

The calm before the storm.