The Way of Restraint

Su Jie made it back to Larry’s headquarters building quickly.

Zhang Hongqing pursuing him here was not a realistic option. An incursion into Larry’s building would read as an assassination attempt on the billionaire himself — the consequences for the Zhang family would be severe, and Zhang Hongqing was not the kind of man who made that kind of mistake. Su Jie was confident of this.

The building’s perimeter was layered with high-technology security at every level. Even Su Jie himself couldn’t move through it freely without authorization.

“Mr. Su Jie — we have new testing scheduled today.”

He had barely returned to the training room and begun assessing his injuries when Kathy’s message arrived.

He went to the laboratory. Several specialists were operating a device with more than a dozen mechanical arms, each tipped with fine needles, the whole apparatus moving with a precision that looked more like science fiction than medicine.

“What is this?” Su Jie asked.

“It’s a minimally invasive surgical instrument,” Kathy said, “modified for electrical stimulation and acupuncture delivery. Your physical data from recent sessions produced some significant breakthroughs in the research. The original application was for treating muscular atrophy and reconnecting neural pathways in paralysis patients.”

“Now being used to develop nerve and muscle tissue more broadly?” Su Jie took a stack of reports and went through them carefully — medical data analysis, instrument specifications.

He was, in a real sense, now a scientist participating in Larry’s research program. His accumulated knowledge base was substantial, though he remained far behind the specialists in formal depth. As a junior collaborator, he had contributed a number of constructive suggestions.

Under normal university conditions, he would have needed a postgraduate position before a supervisor would allow him near experimental research of this caliber — and even then, the cutting edge would have been years away. Larry had compressed that timeline entirely. What would otherwise have taken five or six years of disciplined institutional progression had been bypassed.

The instrument shared some conceptual similarity with Master Luo’s mechanical arm massage apparatus, but the comparison was like comparing a candle to a floodlight. Larry’s organization had the financial resources and the accumulated technical depth to build something in an entirely different category.

Su Jie removed his clothing for examination.

“Posterior nerve damage, soft tissue contusion…” The diagnostic system processed the results and began its assessment. “Minimally invasive intervention recommended…”

The specialists consulted briefly, then set the instrument to work on his back.

The precision of the mechanical arms exceeded anything human hands could produce.

Su Jie was aware that robotic surgical instruments had been in clinical use for over a decade — high precision, minimal infection risk, the main barrier being cost that most patients couldn’t approach.

By traditional martial arts standards, the injury to his back was a standard strike wound — apply medicine, massage, allow the swelling to resolve naturally. Functional recovery without complications. But under modern precision diagnostics, the imaging revealed micro-level damage that traditional methods couldn’t identify or address. Left untreated, these would become the accumulated hidden injuries that traditional Chinese medicine acknowledged existed but couldn’t reliably treat.

This was precisely the gap between classical medicine and modern science. Traditional systems had no framework for the structures involved — capillary networks, nerve sheaths, subcutaneous connective tissue at the microscopic level. Modern science was already editing genetic sequences in plant organisms with demonstrated success. The comparison wasn’t a contest.

As the mechanical arms worked through the procedure, Su Jie understood more clearly why Zhang Hongqing had become what he was. Access to tools like this, sustained over years, compounding.

The procedure took thirty minutes. Comparable in duration to having a tooth pulled.

The injury wasn’t severe — traditional methods could have managed it adequately. The deeper scan and microsurgical intervention were precautionary, to address what would otherwise become hidden chronic damage. The procedure data was recorded throughout.

Afterward came the electrical stimulation sequence, then acupuncture and massage, neural activation — the full maintenance protocol.

The instrument’s precision was genuinely beyond what any human specialist could replicate. It was calibrated in real time to electrocardiographic and brainwave data, modulating stimulation depth and intensity in response to live physiological feedback.

Su Jie found his thoughts moving to other things the organization had produced — robots capable of back-flips and complex martial-arts-adjacent movement sequences, mechanical dogs with uncanny stability. All from Larry’s various subsidiaries. He had no idea where those divisions were physically located. Classified at a level he hadn’t accessed.

Larry’s operational scope was vast. What Su Jie had touched was a small fraction of one branch. But even the fraction revealed the shape of the whole.

He wasn’t particularly interested in mapping Larry’s secrets. What he cared about was the research data, the accumulated knowledge, and what it could do for his body’s development.

Larry, for his part, had already formed a complete picture of what Su Jie actually was.

*****

While Su Jie was undergoing the procedure, Larry was in his office watching high-definition footage.

The footage was from the previous night. Su Jie and Zhang Hongqing.

Several analysts were beside him.

“Sir — this represents close to the current ceiling of human performance,” a data specialist said, working through the material methodically. “The combat data from both subjects has direct value for your security architecture.”

“Su Jie’s research value is considerable,” a human movement specialist added. “I’d recommend securing a long-term agreement with him for our ongoing work.”

“If we can integrate the Honey Badger Training Camp’s data with ours, the research advances substantially.”

“Is this approximately the current limit of what the human body can produce?” Larry sat quietly for a moment. “The Typhon Training Camp’s data is inaccessible to us. Honey Badger is the only realistic alternative.”

The night passed.

*****

Two days later, in a small room in the Zhang family ancestral hall, Zhang Manman and Zhang Hongqing were sitting across from each other.

“Father.” Her voice was sharp. “You went to kill Su Jie last night?”

Zhang Hongqing didn’t deflect. “I did. Though killing him wasn’t the specific intention — warning him off was. Keep away from you. Stay out of Zhang family internal affairs.”

“Father, why?” Her face had gone red. She was holding the anger with visible effort. “Whatever happened between your generation has nothing to do with us. And Su Jie’s character — I know it.”

“What exactly do you know?”

“His capabilities exceed anyone in the Zhang family. Including you.” She didn’t soften it. “At eighteen years old you hadn’t reached Divine Enlightenment. And last night you went to kill him and came back without having accomplished it — that’s true, isn’t it?” She pressed on before he could respond. “You say I don’t think about the family’s interests. I think I’m the one who is actually thinking about them. Someone with his ability — isn’t it obviously better to have him as a friend than an enemy? With his support, doesn’t the Zhang family stand to gain?”

“Go on,” Zhang Hongqing said.

“Father, I’m not saying this out of emotion — I’m stating facts. In three to five years, Su Jie will surpass you. When that happens, where does that leave you? Where does it leave the Zhang family?”

“Three to five years — no,” Zhang Hongqing said, something like amusement in his voice. “Ten years, perhaps. The boy said the same thing himself — three years. Confidence in youth is a virtue, but excess of it becomes a liability.” He paused. “I looked at his physiognomy. His great fortune runs out before he turns twenty. After that, a sharp reversal is possible — he may end up as ordinary as anyone. History has no shortage of prodigies who vanish into quiet lives after their early brilliance. Martial cultivation is no different. He doesn’t understand the depth of what the world will put against him, or the limits of what any single person can accomplish. These next two years — whether he keeps his life is not certain. Your perspective is limited. I don’t hold that against you.”

“Father — I don’t follow what you’re saying.”

“Su Shilin made enemies of too many people,” Zhang Hongqing said. “I’m not the only one who wants him dead. He retreated into obscurity for over twenty years, but retribution finds its way — it falls on children and grandchildren when it can’t reach the source. I don’t want you near his son. That is for your protection.” He continued. “Su Shilin chose a quiet life and in doing so cut himself off from everything that provides real protection — no resources, no influence, completely out of the current. He’s close to the end of whatever time he has left.” A pause. “As for the Honey Badger Security board position — it goes to your brother. This is what’s good for the family and what’s good for you. You can’t hold that position down — and this isn’t a criticism, it’s the structure. That position is the heir’s position. Your brother in that seat makes sense to everyone. You in it, and your brother walks away immediately. More faction after that. The family fragments. Some things I have no power over either. I think, with your intelligence, you can understand this.”

“I understand it,” Zhang Manman said. “I don’t accept it.” She met his eyes. “The family’s customs need to change, Father. Those outer disciples — taking fire every day, building the family’s reach in places where no one else will go — their resentment is real and it’s going to grow.”

“You’re wrong.” He shook his head. “Nations can reform. Companies can reform. Families cannot. Reform a family and a father is no longer a father, a brother no longer a brother. Once you cross that line, it isn’t a family anymore — it’s a corporation. A thousand-year family has existed. A thousand-year nation or company has not. Some things must not change. You’re young — you haven’t reached the depth of understanding where this becomes clear. The family is the most fundamental unit there is. Indivisible. Alter its nature and it collapses immediately.” He paused. “I have also instructed your brother to move against the instigators. Make an example. Restore order.”

“Father.” Something in Zhang Manman’s face went flat and cold. “You can be this ruthless.”

Zhang Hongqing looked at her for a long moment.

“If you could only understand what a family actually is.” He exhaled — the closest thing to a sigh she had heard from him. “You don’t know yet.”

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