The Way of Restraint

Chapter 206: Prostrate with Admiration

Yesterday’s Chapter.

*****

The technique Su Jie had used was the Grip Seal — learned originally from Liu Long, then refined through Odell’s video instruction until it had become second nature, deployable at will, its effect as sudden and absolute as a thunderclap. Most people who encountered it felt certain they had witnessed a magic trick.

Liu Long had used it to end Zhang Jinchuan’s ability to fight in a single application.

Su Jie, operating from the Realm of the Living Dead with physical capacity well beyond Liu Long’s, had produced a more decisive result — one exchange, and Sawai Takeji was unconscious before he hit the floor.

The Grip Seal was said to derive from the essence of Daoist thunder techniques — the kind historically attributed with the power to subdue malevolent forces. For an ordinary person, the precise neuromuscular coordination it demanded was essentially unreachable. For Su Jie it was effortless.

Even Larry was startled.

He stared at Su Jie with open puzzlement. He had watched the whole exchange — Sawai Takeji’s aggressive surges, Su Jie’s first sidestep, then the second lunge, and then Su Jie extending his hand, closing it, a sound like a balloon bursting — and Sawai Takeji going down before contact had visibly been made.

If Su Jie’s hands weren’t obviously empty, Larry would have suspected a concealed firearm.

After a considerable interval, Sawai Takeji came back to himself. He turned to Su Jie and went to his knees in a bow of genuine prostration.

“Is this the supreme Chinese art — the Five Thunder Method?”

“It’s a form of qigong,” Su Jie said, returning the courtesy immediately. “Biomimetic technique. Nothing as extraordinary as it looks — closer to sleight of hand, really. The physical execution is difficult, which makes it appear more remarkable than it is.”

In terms of etiquette, Sawai Takeji was exemplary — a man in whom the Japanese warrior tradition and the deep influence of Chinese Confucian culture had merged into something seamless. Confucian thought had entered Japan early and taken deep root; Wang Yangming’s philosophy of the unity of knowledge and action had been received there with an enthusiasm that arguably exceeded anything it had found at home, his name spoken with the reverence reserved for sages. The Meiji Restoration itself had been in part a fusion of Confucian ideals and the warrior ethic — and the expansion and aggression that followed had drawn on both.

Su Jie was young, but his immersion in questions of mind, Qi, and culture had given him a sensitivity to these things that went beyond what most people twice his age possessed.

What he sensed in Sawai Takeji was something that both reassured and unsettled him — the deep self-discipline and restoration of propriety, the Confucian self-mastery and return to proper conduct, alongside an equally deep aggression held always in reserve. A man who regulated himself through daily discipline toward an inner stillness and strength that were genuine. Su Jie could feel it: Sawai Takeji had reached the Duan — Severance — state among the Minglun Seven.

That placed him well above Shen Dao or Song Gua. Approaching Gu Yang’s level.

Su Jie had now encountered several practitioners at and above the Realm of the Living Dead. Odell stood at the summit — the strongest alive, by his assessment, with even Liu Guanglie falling somewhat short. His father was also unfathomable in depth, but Su Jie had a quiet, persistent feeling that in a true fight to the finish, Odell’s odds would be slightly better. That was his current sense of it.

Below the Realm of the Living Dead, in terms of pure combat effectiveness, Gu Yang stood first. Liu Long, since breaking through to the “Duan” state, had become the premier ring fighter. Behind them — Jiu Ding Security’s best, the former soldier-king Shen Dao, Song Gua of the Song family — none had crossed into “Duan”; they had reached “An”, the Peace state, and stopped there.

Feng Hengyi was the anomaly — Realm of the Living Dead level, reached through exceptional and unusual means.

In principle, the path from “Ding” through “Jing” to “An” was achievable through rigorous self-discipline, scientific training, and proper nutrition — demanding, but followable. The threshold from “An” to “Duan” was something else: a crossing from Confucian methodology into something closer to Chan Buddhist dissolution, and it constituted a barrier that talent alone rarely overcame. Even Liu Long, with all his gifts, had only begun to feel it after training alongside Su Jie, eventually breaking through to defeat Muay Thai champion Bangkalong.

“Mr. Su Jie,” Sawai Takeji said, “your art is that of a founding grandmaster. With you protecting Mr. Larry, I have no further concerns.”

“You’re too generous,” Su Jie said. “One person always has blind spots. Mr. Larry’s safety will depend on your cooperation as much as mine.”

“Hai.” Sawai Takeji gave a nod, then turned to Larry. “If there’s nothing further, I’ll return to my post outside.”

Larry didn’t send him out. He gestured for him to stay, then turned to the room with a question that had clearly been building.

“Is it genuinely the inner cultivation that produces this level of physical performance? Any single metric exceeding a world record might be explained by unusual natural ability. But multiple metrics — across different categories — that defies normal explanation. Even the best performance-enhancing substances available today couldn’t account for this. What is actually happening?”

“Mr. Larry,” Sawai Takeji said, taking the question, “this is a live research problem in the life sciences — the relationship between the inner state and physical capacity. The contemplative technologies of East Asian civilization remain the most advanced on earth in this domain. Mr. Su Jie has broken through a fundamental barrier of the inner life and reached a state beyond the ordinary, and the physical capacities have risen with it.” He paused. “There is one additional factor worth noting. In general, people who reach this state are old — the physical benefits come too late to compound with peak physical condition. Mr. Su Jie is extraordinarily young. Reaching this state at his age is like receiving the most precise nutritional intervention exactly when the body needs it most.”

“A research problem,” Larry said, nodding. He studied Su Jie. His interest was clearly not confined to what a bodyguard could offer. That relationship would need time to develop. He turned to Zhang Manman. “Ms. Zhang, Honey Badger Security has performed exceptionally well in this matter. If you become the head of Honey Badger Security, I would be willing to invest — and to pursue this research in collaboration.”

“Thank you, Mr. Larry.” Zhang Manman received this with outward composure and inward elation. She understood what it meant: Larry had declared his position. With a man of his wealth and standing aligned with her, her odds of securing the Honey Badger senior post had just improved by at least fifty percent.

Honey Badger Security was ultimately a business, not the Zhang family’s private estate. The major stakeholders in the Honey Badger Training Camp were numerous — and if she could bring Larry in as an investor, those stakeholders would follow his lead. The Zhang family would find themselves with no practical recourse, watching helplessly as she took the position and consolidated it.

“I first noticed Su Jie last year at the martial arts academy,” she thought, “when I had no idea he was Su Shilin’s son. Even then I could see the potential. I had no idea I’d struck gold.”

Her satisfaction with that investment was complete.

Su Jie and Larry spoke further about life science questions. Su Jie’s English was fluent and unencumbered, and as the conversation continued, Larry’s surprise grew visibly — the range and technical depth of Su Jie’s knowledge was not what you expected from a bodyguard. It was what you expected from a laboratory researcher.

When Larry learned that Su Jie was currently an undergraduate student in the life sciences, he extended an invitation without hesitation: come to his laboratory after graduation and do research there.

Su Jie didn’t accept on the spot. He said he would think about it.

Research was genuinely where his ambitions pointed. He understood that the real breakthroughs in human physical capacity would come from laboratories, not from cultivation practice alone. Humanity had dreamed of flight for thousands of years and never achieved it through “qigong”. The road to orbit had been built through science.

*****

“Ms. Zhang.” Cass glanced at her schedule and judged that the conversation had reached its natural end. “From this point on, Mr. Su Jie is Mr. Larry’s personal bodyguard. I’ll need to take him through an orientation — Mr. Larry’s daily routines, habits, dietary requirements.”

Zhang Manman took the signal and stood, drawing Su Jie aside briefly. “Now that you’re Larry’s bodyguard, your own safety is no longer a concern in the same way. Even the Mao family, with all the nerve they’ve shown, won’t dare touch you here.”

Su Jie nodded. There was an irony to it — in becoming Larry’s protector, he had in some sense acquired Larry’s protection in return. The arrangement went both ways.

Zhang Manman said what she needed to say and left. Cass proceeded to walk Su Jie through introductions to Larry’s security teams, his personal medical team, personal wellness team, and personal legal team.

Ten distinct teams served Larry. Combined, they numbered over a hundred people.

Su Jie thought of how he had once envied champion boxers for having a small support team — a massage therapist, a nutritionist. Compared to what surrounded Larry, that was a shantytown.

This was what it actually looked like at that level.

From outside, Larry appeared almost ascetically simple. Media coverage noted the inexpensive watch, the years-worn shoes. But those details were beside the point entirely — he had no need to signal wealth through appearance. His security operation, by contrast, ran so quietly that most people nearby would never suspect it was there.

*****

As Cass walked Su Jie through the service teams, Larry called in another personal aide — a tall white man.

“Smith,” Larry said, “in your assessment — can this man, Su Jie, handle the job? Can he keep me safe?”

“Mr. Larry,” Smith said, “Nostradamus Jr.’s read the tarot and the crystal ball — and saw something about your future. A period of danger, but a force coming from the East that shifts the outcome. That’s the mystical reading.” He paused. “On the purely empirical side, this Eastern man’s numbers exceed every bodyguard you’ve ever had.”

“Has Nostradamus Jr.’s completed the full reading?” Larry picked up a document — pages covered in esoteric notation and prophetic text.

Had Su Jie been in the room, he would have found this quietly amusing. Back home, certain wealthy men put their faith in “fengshui” and physiognomy. Here, the chief executive of one of the world’s leading technology companies — a data-obsessed rationalist — was consulting mystical prophecy.

There had been a great prophet in the West, Nostradamus, who had foretold the world’s end in the year 2000. That prediction had long since been quietly retired. The East had its astrology and physiognomy; the West had its zodiac signs, tarot cards, and crystal balls. The superstitions took different shapes, but the impulse was the same everywhere.

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