Calming his thoughts, Galon stood aside, listening to the two men talk as the day gradually brightened, nearing noon.
It was getting late, and Uncle Tir and the guest finally got up and walked to the door to see the guest off.
"Uncle, I should be going back now," Galon said, picking up his scarf from the coat rack.
"So soon? Stay for lunch before you go," Tir turned around, "You don't come over often; you should stay and hang out a bit more. Lombas will be back soon; you brothers should catch up."
"Next time, uncle. Ying'er is waiting for me at home," Galon smiled, "I promised her I'd be back for lunch."
"You young man... Well, alright. Be safe on your way back," Tir teased, ruffling Galon's hair.
"Will do."
Just as Galon was putting on his shoes to leave, he felt a warm roll of paper being pushed into the palm of his hand. Looking down, he saw it was a roll of hundred-dollar bills. Turning back, he saw a smile on his uncle's face.
"Take it. It's been a while since I've seen you. Just a little pocket money. Just focus on your studies at school."
"Got it, thanks, Uncle," Galon smiled, nodding quickly, "I'm off then."
"Mhm, come by more often when you have the time."
"Will do."
Descending the staircase, Galon returned to the ground floor of the hall. Among the sparse crowd coming and going, a blond young man in a tight white outfit stood by the white angel statue. Seeing Galon come down, the young man raised an eyebrow.
"Galon, come here," he gestured casually to Galon while holding a white ball in his other hand, chatting with a dark-haired girl beside him.
Galon recognized him; it was his cousin Lombas, his uncle's son—a hot-headed and arrogant guy whom Galon preferred to avoid.
Approaching with a frown, Galon stopped two meters away from Lombas.
"What did Dad talk to you about?" Lombas asked in a low voice.
"Nothing much, just asked about how things are going. I'll be leaving if there's nothing else," Galon replied indifferently.
Lombas raised an eyebrow, feeling his image challenged: "What's the hurry? I'm your brother. You can't spare a few minutes to chat?"
Galon sighed, "If there's really nothing, I need to go. Ying'er is waiting for me to have lunch." He turned to leave, not wanting to waste more time.
"Hey! I'm your brother! Stop!" Lombas's temper flared, raising his voice.
"Really, Lombas? Looking for trouble?" Galon turned around, frowning deeply, raising his voice in kind. The Galon of the past might have cowered, but he was no longer the same person.
"Alright then? You dare to yell at me? I'll teach you to yell!" Lombas lashed out, attempting to slap Galon's face with a technique from combat sports, unexpectedly using half his strength.
The slap, whistling through the air, aimed viciously at Galon's left cheek.
Slap!
A crisp sound echoed as Galon and Lombas's palms collided.
Their strengths were surprisingly equal, barely balanced.
Galon was slightly taken aback; he hadn't expected his frivolous cousin to know any combat techniques. But his own basic combat skills were officially at the beginner level. He exerted a little more force, giving a fierce shake.
Whoosh! Lombas was thrown several steps to the side, nearly crashing into another man. Lombas's face turned beet red, his hand throbbing with pain. On closer inspection, his right hand was already swollen: "Alright... Galon... you've done it!" He glared at the girl beside him, "You wait!"
Galon didn't spare him another glance. Lombas was just dabbling in martial arts for fun and couldn't compare to Galon's dedicated practice. If Lombas sought trouble again, he would be the one getting beaten. And if Lombas dared to bring others into their dispute, Uncle Tir's presence would deter him.
"Don't cause trouble. If Uncle saw you like this, he'd be so disappointed." With that, Galon turned and left the hall, ignoring Lombas's furious shouts behind him.
Walking back the way he came, it took half an hour due to increased foot traffic before Galon reached his home on Lan Tree Street.
Entering the complex, the fourth building with a red roof to the right was his current residence.
At the staircase entrance, a frail, white-haired gentleman was slowly descending the stairs with a cane.
Galon waited patiently to the side until the gentleman had completely exited the stairwell before he began to ascend.
The gentleman smiled kindly at him without speaking and
headed towards the parking lot. His steps, though slow, were deliberate and meticulous, matching his neatly dressed appearance in a black suit, exuding a subdued solemnity.
Galon returned his gaze to the dim stairwell and climbed two flights of stairs, soon hearing footsteps above. Peering through the gap, he saw Ying'er moving something heavy.
"Ying'er!" he called out.
"Galon?" Wearing a black waist-cinching dress that barely covered her thighs, Ying'er stopped and looked down through the gap, "You're back? Come help, I bought some white pears to stock up."
As Galon responded, his cheeks flushed. From his angle, he could see up Ying'er's skirt, the black cotton tights revealing a hint of white: "Got it, I'm coming."
Ying'er, realizing her exposure, blushed and stepped back, "You, don't learn from Lombas!"
"It's your fault for not being careful!" Galon quickly clarified. He hurried up the stairs, picking up the yellow crate filled with white pears.
"What do you mean my fault?" Ying'er placed her hands on her hips and shouted, suddenly aware of her volume and scanned around, "Let's go back and talk!"
Galon shrugged, carrying the crate upstairs.
Reaching their door, Ying'er opened it, and Galon put down the pears before running off.
Bang!
The door slammed shut as Ying'er, face flushed, began to move her hands.
"You're dead, Galon!" she shouted, charging at him with agility and speed surpassing Galon's beginner level combat skills.
The chase around the living room lasted only seconds before a thud sounded.
Galon was tripped by Ying'er and lay sprawled on the floor.
"Must be at least intermediate combat skills... and likely trained with a secret technique." Galon looked up at Ying'er, surprised by her prowess. He hadn't used his combat skills seriously, but her physical fitness and instinctual movements suggested her combat style was speed-oriented, unlike the power-focused techniques of Baiyun Martial Arts School. She might even be at the intermediate level.
Different martial arts schools have varied focuses in their basic combat techniques, emphasizing strength, burst, speed, endurance, flexibility, etc. Secret training techniques, exclusive to each school, are not shared with just anyone. These techniques, if practiced long term, can significantly enhance one's physical attributes.
Galon had heard that disciples of Baiyun Martial Arts School were known for their strength, indicating the school's secret technique aimed to enhance power. Ying'er's unusual speed suggested she had undergone secret training.
Snapping out of his thoughts, Galon awkwardly turned his face away, from his angle he could see up Ying'er's dress, her long legs encased in black tights stretching into the shadow beneath her skirt.
"Look at you! Learning from that idiot Lombas!" Ying'er scolded, stepping on Galon's chest, her kick cushioned by thick clothing.
Galon blinked, suddenly pulling her leg, causing her to tumble down with a thud.
A faint scent of young woman enveloped Galon as Ying'er's soft chest collided with his, stirring a ripple in his heart: "Okay, stop messing around!" He got up, rubbing his stomach, "What's for lunch?"
Ying'er, caught off guard by the fall and not expecting Galon to react so nonchalantly, blushed upon realizing she was sprawled across him. Her chest felt more solid against him than before, and his demeanor seemed more indifferent than usual. Hearing his question, she blinked, took a moment to respond, then straightened her dress. "I made honey bean cake, onion pies, and the leafy melon soup should be ready too."