Fixation

At six-thirty, Chen Chuan changed into a trench coat, picked up the Xuejun Saber, stepped out of the dormitory, and boarded a tram at the rail station. At this hour, the tram was nearly empty. Company employees typically worked until eleven or twelve at night; it was far too early for the evening rush. Looking through his boundary credential, bustling noise, multicolored lights, and vibrant advertisements washed over his senses. Though he had been in Center City for many days now, what he saw was still only on the surface. Whatever lurked deep down remained far out of reach. He still needed time. From recent chats with Wu Bei, he had learned that these optical projections had to be manifested by channeling a certain amount of resources through boundary points. The scale of investment determined the quality of the outward display, and these resources were hotly contested by many. Just like his first day arriving at Wuyi during the break—because he was alone at the academy and was a newly enrolled student, he had been able to enjoy a bounty of resources all to himself. However, Wuyi Academy possessed an active conscious entity, so such resources were likely sufficient for all students to use freely. Furthermore, looking at Hongfu, he felt the boundary between reality and illusion was exceedingly blurred—likely a far more advanced application, something Wu Bei could not clearly explain either. At seven o'clock, Chen Chuan stepped off at a tram stop. Because the location Instructor Wu gave was quite desolate with no direct transit line, he had to walk on foot for half an hour to get there. Along the way, he saw almost no residential houses, and not even gang members were in sight. The cracked streets rose and dipped unevenly, gullies pooled with sewage, and weeds and gravel covered the ground everywhere. Only occasional bonfires flickered by the roadside, with vagrants huddled around them, while stray dogs prowled nearby now and then. By seven-thirty, Chen Chuan spotted the knoll he had seen on the map and the two-story timber-frame house atop it. Light shone from within, but no one was anywhere near it. Chen Chuan walked along a path nearly choked with weeds. Demolished and blasted remains of buildings were visible in the surroundings. Upon arriving here, clear signs of blurring appeared on his Second Self. He glanced at it, didn't stop, and kept walking forward. Once up the knoll and approaching the wooden house, the front door swung open from the inside. Standing inside, Instructor Wu smiled warmly and said, "Student Chen, please come in. I've been waiting for you." Behind him, the interior was brightly lit, seemingly the only warm hue in this cold, quiet night, and his smile looked equally earnest and welcoming. "Sorry to keep you waiting, Instructor," Chen Chuan said. "Not at all. You're very punctual." Instructor Wu gave a sigh. "Perhaps my ability falls short. I'm just not capable of teaching a student like you." Stepping aside, he added, "Come in." Chen Chuan nodded and walked inside. The room was neatly arranged. A long table sat in the center with a pot of tea on it, flanked by five chairs on either side. Closing the door behind them, Instructor Wu said, "Make yourself at home." He walked over, picked up the teapot, and poured a steaming cup of tea for Chen Chuan, remarking, "I apologize for calling you out so late, but classes start in a few days. I didn't want to face too many people either—it saves me from lingering regrets." Chen Chuan did not take a seat. Instead, he walked over to the window and looked out. The terrain here was slightly elevated; from this vantage point, one could see Center City's dazzling, multicolored nightscape. Instructor Wu said, "The scenery here used to be wonderful. Years ago, I lived in those demolished houses at the foot of the hill. I don't know if you saw them on your way up. "Later, a corporation arrived, saying they were going to develop this area. Everyone was driven out. I remember it wasn't even dawn yet—a bitterly cold morning—when our family was rounded up and shoved out by a squad of armed security guards. They claimed ownership of the land and all assets on it had changed hands, giving us one hour to pack and leave. "I was very young back then. I asked my father, what's going to happen here? "Father said this place would become like the rest of the city, with tall, beautiful buildings rising everywhere. I asked him if we'd be able to live in them then. Back then, my father only held me tightly..." Instructor Wu let out a heavy sigh. "Later, when I was ten, he passed away. Only then did I realize that he was the tallest building of all." Chen Chuan looked down at the base of the knoll, where nothing but pitch blackness remained. "Then why is there nothing here now?" "Because in the end, it all fizzled out. For reasons unknown, the corporation abandoned the project, leaving this land untouched and neglected for years. We were never able to come back either. Ridiculous, isn't it?" With a scoff of derision, Instructor Wu gestured to one side. "Look, that was their promotional poster back then." Chen Chuan turned his head to look. A wide promotional poster was pasted on the wall. Beneath blue skies and white clouds stood an elegantly arranged cluster of imposing high-rises, arched over by a rainbow placed precisely along the golden ratio. The artwork was beautiful and inspiring, but when set against the reality just outside, it felt intensely ironic. In the lower-right corner of the picture was a familiar emblem. It was a blooming Molan orchid. He stared at it for a moment. So the corporation that wanted this land back then was the Molan Company... "Student Chen," Instructor Wu said with a smile, "I noticed your communicator profile picture is still blank. You may be a pragmatist, but don't underestimate such details... He pointed his finger. "A good profile picture leaves a good impression and indirectly expresses your tastes and personality. You'd better pick one. When dealing with people in the future, it earns you plenty of favor." Chen Chuan looked at him. Had he not known from the start that this instructor was deceiving him, he might have believed the man truly was a kind mentor and good friend. Then again, this might not necessarily be an act. People were complicated after all; perhaps something in his past had steered him toward a different path. "Thank you for the advice, Instructor. I will," Chen Chuan said. Instructor Wu smiled again and asked, "Student Chen, why aren't you drinking your tea?" "It's still a bit hot. I'm letting it cool down," Chen Chuan replied. "You must not drink tea very often, do you, Student Chen? If you drank it regularly, you'd know tea is meant to be drunk hot." "Just a personal habit." Instructor Wu smiled faintly, a trace of melancholy in his voice. "The moment you arrived, I couldn't stop talking. It's probably a bad habit picked up from teaching over the years—always wanting to lecture, always wanting to chat with students. Seems like I can't shake it." Chen Chuan said, "I looked through the roster you gave me, Instructor Wu. You've taught many students, and their evaluations of you were all very high. It seems you've always been a very dedicated teacher, and your students liked you very much." "That's all in the past." Instructor Wu gave a bitter shake of his head. "What good is teaching so many students well? Their prospects are limited to just a few paths. They might die in some gang clash, leaving behind younger brothers or sisters to feed, who then walk the very same path. "Or perhaps they shatter their spine in the arena by mistake, only to sell off their organs piece by piece to keep whatever is left of themselves alive, until one day they sell their very last piece. "Or, to look on the bright side, they become guards or mercenaries for security corporations, retiring in old age riddled with wounds and ailments. Yet because they're fitted with a body full of implants that don't belong to them, they're told they actually owe the corporation money. Well, at least back then, they still had some scrap value left." He sighed. "Hardly any of them have a future." "So your Void Training technique was meant to change all this, Instructor Wu?" Chen Chuan asked. Instructor Wu had been steeped in lament, but at those words, his emotions vanished abruptly, as if they had never existed. He slowly turned around, looked at Chen Chuan, and said, "Indeed. Sadly, I haven't been able to complete it. I need talented students to test it. I need many talented students to test it." "Weren't all the students you taught enough?" Instructor Wu said regretfully, "I tried. Most people are ordinary, and talented ones are rare after all. To this day, I've only encountered three, but every one of them got stuck at the final step. So far, no one has crossed that threshold to perfect this technique." Hearing this, Chen Chuan said, "I reviewed the materials you sent me. Those techniques can stimulate the brain and nerves, something ordinary people would struggle to do. But for anyone without innate talent—especially students with unstable foundations—if they lose control, it would hijack their normal bodily functions. As an instructor, you should know that, right?" "Yes," Instructor Wu nodded. "I know." Chen Chuan stared at him. "What happened to those students?" A strange gleam appeared in Instructor Wu's eyes. Gazing behind Chen Chuan, he murmured fondly, "Them? They're right inside the cabinet behind you. They've stayed by my side all along. They are all my good students, and I would never abandon them. They will follow me until they witness my success." He looked at Chen Chuan. "I can sense that the final step is not far off. I originally wanted to seek you out, Student Chen. To make it all the way to Center City as a commoner student, your talent is undoubtedly exceptional, and your foundation appears rock-solid. As long as you agree, you can complete this." A faint smile formed on his face. "So tell me, why weren't you willing?" Chen Chuan said, "I'm curious. If I don't agree, how do you intend to make me complete this step, Instructor Wu?" Instructor Wu chuckled. "Student Chen, you might be unwilling, but your brain is still there. All I need is your brain. By preserving its viability with specialized equipment and pharmaceuticals and administering targeted stimuli, we can establish simulations, observe, and find the correct path." "Equipment?" Chen Chuan looked directly at him. "So behind this project of yours, Instructor Wu, there's backing from a corporation... or someone in the academy?" Instructor Wu's eyes turned cold. "That has nothing to do with you, Student Chen. All you need to do is make your contribution." Chen Chuan said sincerely, "It seems my initial refusal was the right choice. How could anyone develop proper techniques alongside vermin like you?" The muscles on Instructor Wu's face twitched and trembled, abruptly contorting into a hideous grimace. His bones popped and rattled with a clattering noise, the floorboards beneath his feet vibrated slightly, and the pendant lamp overhead swayed, flickering between light and shadow. Ignoring the sense of danger radiating from him, Chen Chuan slowly raised the Xuejun Saber. Watching him intently, he said, "Now, Instructor Wu, I must trouble you to guide me in my combat skills." With a light flick of his thumb, the scabbard flew sideways and embedded into the adjacent wall with a dull thud, unveiling a dazzling, snow-bright gleam inside the room.