Tailed

Chen Chuan's offense was not completely reckless as it had been against Hongfu; instead, he fought with immense caution. Breaching Zheng Tongtong's guard demanded strategy and skill. A few clashes in, he saw just how solid her fundamentals were. Every strike and parry was airtight, without the slightest opening. He had the fleeting impression that he was facing a seamless sphere of solid iron—attacking from any angle made no difference; not a single gap presented itself. From the moment they began, Zheng Tongtong had remained purely on defense. She was not declining to counter; she was simply waiting for the right opening. Chen Chuan could tell she had likely noticed he was holding back a portion of his jin, and was using the clash of their blades to wait for the transition interval between his sets of mutated tissue. Even when cycling between two sets of mutated tissue, there was always a seam between them. Even if mutated tissues could be operated independently without restriction, all force still drew upon the same bones and muscles. Forcing them to pull against each other simultaneously would only injure and cripple oneself first; a minute pause was unavoidable. If an attack cut in at that precise moment, he would be thrown onto the back foot. Chen Chuan did not slacken his assault because of this. He, too, was using their clashing blades to search for seams in Zheng Tongtong's jin transitions. Before long, however, he found that her transition gaps were extraordinarily elusive, veiled beneath layers of misdirection without any fixed pattern. He realized at once that behind this lay an advanced coordination of breathing and jin—something he had yet to learn. That left only one way to break the deadlock: wait for her to attack. An attack was always when openings revealed themselves, and that might present an opportunity. After more than half an hour of back-and-forth sparring, Zheng Tongtong's blade suddenly surged. Her saber turned into a flashing blur, slashing three times in rapid succession. The strikes cut right into the seam where Chen Chuan's mutated tissues were switching. Moreover, the three blows were not aimed to wound, but to hammer wave after wave of jin into his body. When the first set of mutated tissue instinctively absorbed and deflected the force, the second set was rotated in just as another jolt struck, forcing him to deflect once more. But when the third slash landed, the first set of tissue couldn't be mobilized back in time—it had fallen completely behind the tempo. Normally, there would be no way out of this. Even if he released the suppression on his mutated tissue, there wouldn't be enough time in such haste to muster sufficient power. Yet seeing that resistance seemed impossible, he made the choice anyway. This time, however, it was not to stir his emotions or heighten his combat capability, but rather to use the act to mobilize finer, normally inaccessible mutated tissues, forcibly nudging his deflected saber back just a fraction. *Clang!* The force knocked him back several steps, yet as soon as he found his footing, he immediately squared up into his stance again. Having spent her momentum on those three strikes, Zheng Tongtong could not immediately press the attack either. She looked at Chen Chuan in surprise, then gave him a thumbs-up and praised sincerely, "Junior, beautifully blocked!" Instructor Zheng chuckled and said, "Not bad at all. Good, let's call it there for now." Chen Chuan exhaled slowly. Forcibly mobilizing them in his suppressed state had only worked because his internal organs and bones had recently been reinforced. Even so, he felt a throbbing ache and dull tightness washing through him, and many of the delicate mutated tissues he rarely called upon felt frayed and torn. Due to their distribution and function, mutated tissues were naturally not all identical; some were inherently stronger and others weaker. Forcibly recruiting underdeveloped tissues inevitably led to this result. But this was an issue that could be addressed later, and after this experience, he would certainly find ways to strengthen them. Instructor Zheng stepped forward and said to him, "I saw that just now. You figured out the trick of alternating your mutated tissues on your own. That's very good, because the offensive and defensive jin techniques I taught you were meant to prepare you to employ different mutated tissues for this very purpose. "However, while the method you devised may suit you well enough, in my eyes there are still shortcomings. So I'm going to teach you the jin and breathing techniques I know for this. You can absorb and ponder them to make better use of it. There are quite a few crucial details here, so listen closely." This time, he didn't just instruct verbally. Utilizing his boundary credential, he brought up diagrams of mutated tissue across light screens, demonstrating how each area generated force, how adjustments and shifts were made, and which breathing techniques to coordinate with them so a fighter could transition between mutated tissues more naturally. Only when jin and breath worked in unison could true technique emerge. Chen Chuan's previous transitions had relied solely on jin, with virtually no proper breathing coordination. Having heard this, he understood completely; he was confident that if he stepped up again, he wouldn't struggle like he just had. In addition, Instructor Zheng shared a series of jin-wielding techniques—building momentum, layering, redirecting, emptying—and finally concluded: "I've taught you just about all the essential points of jin application and breathing techniques. If your only goal were passing the assessment, what you have now would be more than enough. But if you're aiming for higher ambitions, this is nowhere near sufficient." Chen Chuan nodded. He understood that mastering all of this overnight was impossible. Right now, he had merely swallowed it whole; it would take long and arduous refinement, as well as constant combat against opponents, to grasp and digest it until it became truly his own. Moreover, an ideal sparring partner like Zheng Tongtong was impossible to find on the outside, and he had no intention of letting such a rare opportunity slip away. Seeing the steady resolve in Chen Chuan's eyes, Instructor Zheng said with gratification, "I can see you don't intend to stop there. Good. For the rest of the term, our lessons will focus on practical application and intensive training. I won't set strict time limits—outside of rest days, you're welcome to come whenever you wish." Chen Chuan nodded. "Understood. Thank you, Instructor Zheng." "Then let's continue." Chen Chuan agreed, lifted his saber, and stepped forward to spar with Zheng Tongtong again, absorbing and integrating what he had just learned through live combat. Over the next few days, he traveled back and forth between the Xuan Palace Building and Instructor Zheng's residence as the month slipped into late March. One day, on the shared communication channel between him, Wu Bei, and Old Qi, Old Qi posted a photo. It was a picture of himself with a little girl—presumably his daughter—with a birthday cake in front of them. Old Qi looked as down-and-out as ever, but the girl was quite adorable, making a silly face for the camera. Chen Chuan checked the timestamp; it looked like it was taken yesterday. He asked, "Old Qi, how've things been lately?" "Pretty good. I paid a fine on that penalty citation, so that's behind me now. I can take commissions again. Though from what I've heard, ever since the Golden Shrimp crew went down, hardly anyone's been taking those anomaly commissions lately." "I'm undergoing training right now," Chen Chuan said. "I probably won't have time to take commissions for a while." "No problem, Brother Chen. I follow your lead. Whenever you need Old Qi, just say the word." "Even so, Old Qi, please keep an eye out," Chen Chuan said. "If you come across any anomalies causing widespread disruption, let me know right away." Dealing with urban legends was no longer urgent, but if one caused widespread harm, he was someone capable of handling it and would not simply sit by. Wu Bei spoke up then: "Don't worry, Brother Chen, I'm keeping an eye on things for you too." "With you on it, Brother Wu, I'm not worried," Chen Chuan replied. Then something occurred to him. "Old Qi, do you know where to buy things kids would like?" It had been nearly two months since he arrived in Center City, and he wanted to send some local items back to his aunt, uncle, and younger cousins. Although anything could be found through the boundary credential, most of its recommended items were quite pricey. "I know just the spot, Brother Chen," Old Qi said. "I'll send you an address. You can't go wrong shopping there." A moment later, an address arrived on Chen Chuan's boundary credential: a place called Baoguo Market, right on the edge of Yinglu District. He glanced outside at the sky. It had been raining intermittently for days, but rare clear skies hung overhead now, so he figured he might as well take care of it right away. Changing into clean clothes, he left the Xuan Palace Building and took a tram all the way to the market. Sure enough, the selection was vast; beyond Center City goods, merchandise from outlying cities could be found as well. This saved him the trouble of running all over the city. First, he bought scarves and gloves for his aunt and uncle, along with matching men's and women's hats. For his uncle, he also picked out a Center City pipe, an ashtray, and the fine tobacco Old Qi had recommended. For his aunt, he chose a bolt of fine fabric, an exquisite porcelain tea set, and regional specialty snacks from cities around Center City. For his younger cousins, he picked up several tins of sweets, along with an assortment of toys and novelties. He also spotted an exquisite record player that had garnered no interest from other shoppers and decided to buy it as well; the shopkeeper thoughtfully included a stack of records with it. Along the way, he selected a pair of Center City flashy decorative sunglasses for Cheng Zitong. After paying for everything, he arranged for postal shipping. For safety, however, he left out the residential address and had the parcel delivered directly to the Baofeng District Constabulary. By the time he stepped outside, the sky had darkened again. Picking up his pace, he made it into the station just before the rain started. While waiting on the platform, Wu Bei's voice came through the boundary credential: "Brother Chen, someone seems to be staking you out using a boundary point field." Chen Chuan's eyes flickered slightly. "Are you sure?" "They're being subtle," Wu Bei said, "but the same frequency has shown up near you multiple times. It's no coincidence." Chen Chuan gave a quiet acknowledgment. "Can you tell where they are?" "The person is very cautious," Wu Bei said. "Here one moment, gone the next. I didn't want to spook them, so I haven't rushed to trace them." "No rush," Chen Chuan said. "Just wait for an opportunity." "Got it." Chen Chuan's first thought was Wei Wusheng. Wei Wusheng definitely had a resonator working alongside him, and likely a faction backing him as well—otherwise he couldn't have pulled off what he did. Just then, the tram pulled into the station. Rising from his seat, Chen Chuan carried the Xuejun Saber and stepped into the carriage alongside the flow of commuters.