The Top Floor

On the way back, Chen Chuan tried clenching his fist as he jogged. Although he could not test it with the alarm clock right now, he was certain that after this bout with Ding Shuo, his overlap duration with his Second Self had definitely increased. Moreover, he had a feeling that this increase was bound to be substantial, very likely exceeding the boost from defeating Shan Xiong. Yet the reason went beyond simply defeating Ding Shuo. Rather, after merging with his Second Self and unleashing his punches against Ding Shuo with all his might—reducing his opponent to doing nothing but parrying and blocking—that exhilarating feeling of letting loose all his strength and striking without restraint was what truly ignited his emotions, driving the Second Self to overlap further. However, he could not help but ponder another question: Ding Shuo’s background was unknown, yet he possessed jin that was more profound than a breathing technique and commanded exceptional resilience. If Chen Chuan encountered someone like that during the entrance retest, how would he defeat them? Using jin to counter jin ought to be the most proper method, but judging by the information Yu Gang had disclosed, jin was at a far higher tier than breathing techniques, and it was likely not something he could master at his current stage. How should he deal with it? After some thought, he decided to ask Yu Gang tomorrow; surely there was a way. "Forty-one, forty-two, forty-three..." On a balcony railing of a residential building, the youth Wei Dong was doing handstand push-ups. Counting steadily under his breath, he spotted Chen Chuan jogging past below and muttered, "Back pretty early today, huh?" These days, he worked out on the balcony every morning and evening, and seeing Chen Chuan pass through the long alleyway below had become a daily routine he was long accustomed to. Watching Chen Chuan's figure disappear, Wei Dong snapped back to reality. "Wait, what number was I on just now...?" "..." "Whatever. Starting over..." Chen Chuan jogged home in one breath. With time to spare, he took a quick wash and changed into clean clothes—still the student formal wear he had worn during the entrance exam. His predecessor had spent most of his pocket money on books and movies. The clothes he usually wore were sturdy and durable but extremely dated in style; only this outfit was presentable and suited his current standing. Leaving a note for Yu Wan, he wheeled his bicycle out the door. Pedaling out onto the main road, he rode forward in the gentle evening breeze. The utility poles on both sides of the street receded behind him one by one. In the deepening blue gradient of the sky, wisps of golden-red sunset clouds drifted across the horizon, magnificent and dazzling. The graduation gathering was being held at the Douyi Hotel, located near the city center's Central Square. Standing twenty-seven stories tall, it was the second tallest building in Yangzhi City. Although it was not yet dinner hour, quite a few vehicles were already parked in the hotel lot by the time he arrived. Twisting the handlebars, he turned the corner, parked his bicycle in the shed across from the hotel in Central Square, and walked across the street. Approaching the hotel entrance, he glanced upward. Today's graduation gathering was located on the rooftop terrace. Reserving that space was not only exorbitantly expensive, but it also required reliable connections. However, not all students attending Municipal No. 1 High School were from ordinary families; a handful came from prominent backgrounds with considerable influence, and those students were among the ones responsible for organizing this gathering. Stepping through the revolving doors and crossing the lobby under the smiling guidance of an attractive hostess, he entered an elevator with a lattice gate alongside a few other people. The hotel was clearly doing brisk business. Over the first dozen floors, the elevator started and stopped frequently as sharply dressed men and women continuously stepped in and out. Most of them could not help but glance twice at him when entering. Even though he was merely dressed in a student uniform, he was tall and spirited after over a month of continuous, high-intensity training. Combined with his sharp facial features, clear gaze, and well-proportioned build, he gave off a very pleasing impression. Past the twentieth floor, the crowd thinned. As the elevator continued its ascent, he watched the roller dial click upward floor by floor until it reached the twenty-seventh floor. The cabin shuddered slightly and came to a stop, the lattice gate rattling open to either side. Stepping out of the elevator, he entered a spacious hallway lined with several elevator doors. Ahead stood two hostesses before the entrance. Seeing him approach, they smilingly offered a sign-in sheet for him to write his name, then pushed open the doors leading beyond the corridor. Chen Chuan stepped over the raised concrete threshold and out onto the open rooftop terrace, where an evening breeze immediately swept past, ruffling the ends of his hair. The area spanned several thousand square meters, filled with rows of open canopies beneath which tables and chairs were neatly arranged. The gathering was a buffet-style affair; waiters pushing carts were setting out tableware and preparing drinks and food. He had arrived relatively early, yet quite a few students from No. 1 High School were already there before him, gathered in loose groups chatting among themselves. This gathering was not limited to his class; the other five classes had also been arranged here. Comparing what he saw to his predecessor’s memories, some faces were familiar from the past, though he could not put names to them. Taking a few steps toward the perimeter railing and looking outward, the view from the rooftop was undeniably expansive. Standing here, more than half of the city's architecture opened up before his eyes. Not far to the north stood the tallest building in Yangzhi City: the Molan Company's Gaoling Building. With its deep blue glass curtain wall and sleek, towering silhouette standing isolated in one corner, it seemed distinctly out of place compared to the surrounding structures. Behind the skyscraper, slightly toward the northwest, lay Mount Zhang in the distance, while the shadow of Mount Jiao to the east was equally distinct. At this moment, magnificent twilight spilled through scattered clouds, washing across the buildings in rich, shifting hues, while the traffic and pedestrians below were bathed in a blend of dusk light and shadow. Just then, bursts of gasps and applauding cheers came from behind. Looking toward the source of the commotion, he saw a crowd of students gathered around someone demonstrating martial techniques with leaps and bounds. Intrigued, he walked over. A lean boy dressed in training attire was demonstrating forms—primarily kicks, punctuated by spinning sweeps and airborne strikes—accompanied by spirited shouts that made his performance look formidable. A student nearby introduced him with an air of showing off: "Senior Sheng Hai is now a member of the Xiujiang Boxing Club. He started practicing back in first year of middle school—four years now." Chen Chuan had looked into some of Yangzhi City's local boxing clubs and training gyms while preparing for his exam. Xiujiang Fist had originally been introduced from abroad, and domestic fighters later incorporated new movements and applications to refine it, making it a relatively popular style these days. Thanks to their adept marketing, their clubs were now spread nationwide and held high renown. Because Xiujiang Fist boasted sharp, flashy moves, many students took it up. He had seen classmates practice this style at school before, but back then he had only watched for amusement and thought it looked stylish. Seeing it now, however, gave him a different impression. Most of these fluid combinations were merely intended for visual impact; in real combat, unless there was an overwhelming difference between the fighters, they were virtually impossible to pull off. He understood one principle: the foundation of all combat lay in the body, while techniques were merely specific applications. Under normal circumstances, what made someone strong was the person, not the forms or schools. Observing closely for a moment, he noted that this student named Sheng Hai possessed decent power, good coordination, and rhythmic movement. Setting real combat aside, he had certainly trained for a long time and put in real effort. Sheng Hai drilled for a bit longer before stopping. Despite the sustained exertion, he was not winded at all and barely broke a sweat. Smiling, he said, "Every year, people from the municipal and prefectural levels come to our Xiujiang Boxing Club to scout suitable fighters for tournaments and ring matches. Film and television companies also drop by regularly to pick action actors. You've heard of Xi Mubing, right? The big action star—he came right out of our Xiujiang Boxing Club. There are tons of opportunities if you join us." "That's right," the student who had spoken earlier chimed in, clearly his companion. "If you train well, you can even open your own boxing club. Our headmaster started out just like us—enrolled as a student and worked his way up to becoming the headmaster." As he spoke, he pulled several flyers from his satchel and handed them out to the surrounding students. "Take a look, everyone! If you're interested, you can come talk to us or head straight to the club for a trial. We teach free of charge for the first week." At that point, a student suddenly asked, "How does the Xiujiang Boxing Club compare to martial arts universities?" The boy only gave a dry laugh. Another student scoffed, "How could they even compare? My dad says the security advisors in their bureau are all graduates from martial arts universities, and the city government buys its security equipment from them every year too. What's a boxing club next to that?" A female student chimed in, "My mom says boxing clubs are full of thugs and gang members. It's better not to go to places like that. If you want to learn fighting, you're better off going to a proper training gym or hiring a trainer for private lessons. A full course only costs a few hundred." With them speaking up like that, the other students felt too embarrassed to take the flyers. Even those who couldn't politely refuse just tossed them aside covertly once they had them. Once the surrounding crowd dispersed, Sheng Hai and the other boy had only walked a few paces when a gust of wind blew a flyer into the open, right under someone's foot. The boy said indignantly, "How could they do that?" Sheng Hai had likely encountered this before and did not get upset. Patting his shoulder, he said, "Forget it. Let's go." "Oh." After a moment's hesitation, the boy walked over and bent down to pick up the flyer. Just then, a shadow fell across his vision. Looking up, he was startled to see a tall boy with sharp features standing before him. Chen Chuan reached out a hand. "Hey there, could I have one of those flyers?" "Huh? Sure, of course!" The boy was delighted, handing him one of the flyers from his hand before adding enthusiastically, "I'm Liang Tong. If you want to check out the gym and have any questions, feel free to ask me." Chen Chuan glanced over the flyer and asked, "I heard the first week is free. What do you teach?" Liang Tong replied, "Mostly fundamental techniques." Chen Chuan said, "What if someone already has a bit of a foundation?" Liang Tong answered without hesitation, "That works too! Plenty of students who come to our club already have some background, and others studied at different boxing clubs before. We arrange for our club members to spar with them so they can get a direct feel for Xiujiang Fist." He paused and added, "Of course, if you're just looking for sparring partners, that's fine too." Chen Chuan asked, "As long as the fees are paid, right?" Liang Tong chuckled sheepishly. Chen Chuan smiled as well. "Thanks, Liang Tong." "Don't mention it." Remembering something, Liang Tong reminded him, "The flyer has the address. Every district has a different branch. If you come to our district's club and bring the flyer, you can get a discount." Chen Chuan agreed, waved, and parted ways with the two. Sheng Hai, who had kept quiet until now, asked, "Is that student from your No. 1 High School too?" Liang Tong said, "Should be. I've seen him around before. Seems to be from Class Four, though I don't know his name." Watching Chen Chuan's receding figure, Sheng Hai said with certainty, "That classmate of yours has definitely trained." Liang Tong said, "Really? Who knows. It's pretty normal to have trained, isn't it?" He found nothing strange about it; boxing clubs and training gyms were everywhere in the Republic of Great Shun. It was hardly unusual for a student to have practiced martial arts—weren't Sheng Hai and he proof of that? Sheng Hai thought to himself that when he said "trained," he did not mean something so simple. When Chen Chuan had stood before them just now, he exuded an indescribable presence—one Sheng Hai had only ever felt from the senior fighters and coaches at the boxing club. ... ...