In the silent nights following the departure of the other Duō Clan descendants, Duō Yī set his plans into motion. He would soon leave for the White Crane Sect, but before his own departure, he intended to send his clone, Yi-1, out on a separate path. This way, while he pursued the sect openly, his shadow-self could journey under a different guise, gathering insights and preparing the way.
To avoid drawing attention, Duō Yī would alter the appearance of his clone. He started by dyeing Yi 1's white hair an inky black, each stroke of the brush transforming the familiar into something darker, mysterious. When the dye had set, he draped a simple black mask over Yi 1's face, concealing his identity and creating a stark contrast to his own all-white attire. Now, this figure was more than a reflection; it was his dark mirror, something that could blend into shadows where he, in white, would stand out.
But with a new look came the need for a new fighting style. After a moment of thought, Duō Yī decided that the clone's combat approach should differ from his own. He usually relied on his staff, a weapon suited to reach and flow. For Yi 1, however, he envisioned something brutal and close—something raw.
With his plan set, Duō Yī made his way to the clan's pagoda, the silent hall where the Duō Clan kept its weapons. As he approached the doors, he noticed they were unattended. The absence of the two guards, Wang and Li, was still a mystery to many, but Duō Yī saw this as a small advantage tonight.
Pausing at the entrance, he bowed respectfully, as was customary, and called into the shadowed hall, "Elder Li, may I enter and collect another weapon?"
Silence answered him, thick and unmoving. Duō Yī waited, half expecting Elder Li to step from the shadows as he often did, but there was no response. After a few moments, he repeated his request. Again, silence. Taking it as unspoken permission, Duō Yī moved inside, his footsteps echoing softly.
Rows of gleaming weapons lined the walls, each a reminder of the clan's storied past. Duō Yī's gaze settled on a pair of black gauntlets set with dark steel spikes across the knuckles and joints. Known as the Yīnhǔ Quán, or the Hidden Tiger Fists, these gauntlets were designed for powerful, close-range combat. Slipping them onto Yi 1's hands, Duō Yī tested the weight, flexing each finger, feeling the shift in balance and control.
Back in his chamber, he began to practice, concentrating on the unique challenge of wielding both his staff and the gauntlets in two separate bodies. This was not the first time he had controlled Yi 1's movements, but tonight he needed to balance two distinct combat styles simultaneously. In his own form, Duō Yī flowed through his staff techniques, each strike and sweep a testament to years of disciplined training. With Yi 1, however, he focused on the short, sharp movements suited to fist weapons. The gauntlets required speed, precision, and a fierceness that felt both foreign and exhilarating.
He practiced each stance with intense concentration, shifting his awareness back and forth between his bodies. The rhythmic thuds of Yi 1's fists against the training post echoed through the room, each impact firm and decisive, while Duō Yī himself spun and thrust with his staff. The dichotomy between them was striking. The white-robed figure moved with controlled grace, while the masked figure in black struck with ruthless precision.
The name Hēilóng—the Black Dragon—came naturally to mind as Duō Yī trained. This shadowed version of himself embodied a side of him that he rarely let surface: silent, watchful, and unpredictable. And the more he practiced, the more he began to think of Hēilóng not merely as a reflection but as an extension of his own will, ready to act when subtlety and stealth were required.
Over the next few days, he refined his connection to the clone, concentrating more of his consciousness within Hēilóng. He directed the clone's movements from afar, using it as both scout and sentinel, testing his ability to control both bodies even across short distances. Soon, the time would come for Hēilóng to leave, and Duō Yī wanted to ensure that the clone could function effectively, even if he could not fully control it at every moment.
At last, with all preparations complete, Hēilóng was ready. On a moonless night, Duō Yī led his clone to the edge of the clan's grounds, watching as Hēilóng, cloaked in black, faded into the shadows. There was no need for words; Hēilóng moved with purpose, a silent guardian set to forge a path that Duō Yī would one day follow.
As the clone disappeared into the night, Duō Yī returned to his chambers. The emptiness in the room was sharp now, but he felt a strange satisfaction, knowing that Hēilóng was out there in the world, a darkened echo of himself. With his mind eased, he threw himself back into his training, sharpening his skills and preparing his body and mind for his own departure. He would soon join his peers, but his shadow-self was already a step ahead, marking the way.
A few evenings later, as Duō Yī shared a meal with his mother, she looked at him with a gentle, knowing smile. "The envoy will be here soon," she said quietly. "Your own journey begins in just a few days."
Duō Yī met her gaze, feeling a thrill of anticipation. His mother's presence was a comfort, a reminder of his heritage and the weight of the Duō name. And though he would be leaving her behind, he knew that he was carrying part of her strength and wisdom with him.
In the remaining days, he trained tirelessly, pushing himself beyond his usual limits, preparing every inch of his body and mind for the trials he was certain awaited him. His muscles ached, his mind buzzed with calculations and strategies, but he welcomed it all. This was his future, the path he had chosen.
On his final night in the clan compound, Duō Yī sat alone in meditation, feeling the faint pulse of his consciousness within Hēilóng across the miles. Somewhere out in the world, his shadow-self moved, a silent presence in the darkness. The connection between them held steady, a reassuring link as he prepared to face the challenges beyond the clan's borders.
The night was quiet, save for the faint rustling of leaves outside. With his eyes closed, Duō Yī felt the power of his intentions, the resolve within him coiling like a spring, ready to release. His journey was just beginning, and he would meet it with strength, wisdom, and the silent shadow he had sent ahead, clearing a path through the unknown.