On the surface, I’m a laid-back young man who likes drinking tea and reading ancient books.
“Yifeng, stay behind us! Don’t be afraid of the bullets flying everywhere!”
In secret, I’m the young master of Hidden Edge Valley, guardian of China’s dragon veins, and I’ve spent twenty years training in the art of killing.
A cool, aloof doctoral student mocks me for being superstitious and charges at me in an exoskeleton, determined to give me a “practical demonstration.”
I catch her thunderous iron fist between two fingers.
Me: “Miss, your qi is out of balance.”
A foreign organization sends its ace, the “Executioner,” clad head to toe in high-tech armor and boasting that he’ll tear me apart.
I take off my jacket, reveal my lean, well-defined muscles, and beckon him over with a finger.
“Come on. I’ll show you what it means to dismantle a Gundam by hand.”
From then on, a legend circulates through the military: never touch Mei Yifeng’s teacup, or he’ll show you the true meaning of life.
