Arrangements

In the Admissions Preparation Office, over a dozen advising instructors sat around. One of them shook his head and spoke frankly: "Master Gao, to be honest, I don't want to teach him." The other instructors looked over, secretly admiring his boldness. Master Gao sat behind the desk, his expression indifferent. He merely asked, "Your reason?" The instructor tossed the form regarding Chen Chuan onto the desk. "Looking at his record, he began practicing breathing techniques far too early. And judging by Zhong Wu's injuries, he most likely practiced the Limit-Breaking Strike as well. A student who doesn't know how to treasure his own body and only knows how to overdraw his potential will have a limited ceiling in the future. "However, if Master Gao allows me to give him a comprehensive physical examination to prove there are no issues with him and that he meets my standards, I could take him on." Master Gao ignored him and looked directly to the side, asking another instructor, "What about you? Are you of the same mind?" That instructor stammered, "Master Gao, I... well, I..." "Enough, don't say another word." Master Gao turned to the others. "It seems the rest of you feel the same way?" These instructors sat there in silence. In truth, whether a student's body held up or how far he could progress didn't matter all that much to them. Students stayed at the school for only two or three years anyway, and they weren't their own flesh and blood. There was no need to be so particular. The main reason was that they truly didn't want to get dragged into the whirlpool of the academy's internal power struggles. Wouldn't it be better to just teach their classes in peace? They all remembered what had happened two years ago, so none of them wanted to touch this hot potato. Master Gao looked at a young instructor and asked, "Why aren't you speaking up?" The young instructor looked troubled. "Master, I could teach him, but as you know, I'm heading overseas on an academic exchange next month, and who knows when I'll be back. Even if he studies under me, it wouldn't be for very long." Master Gao said, "I wasn't counting on you anyway. Fine. Since none of you are willing, dismiss yourselves." The advising instructors breathed a collective sigh of relief. Rising, they gave slight bows to him and filed out. Once the office was empty, Master Gao picked up the telephone receiver on his desk and dialed a number. When the line connected, he said, "None of them are willing. I told you this was unnecessary from the start. It would have been better to just assign someone directly to shoulder the responsibility for now." "Since you put it that way, do you have someone in mind?" Master Gao said, "In my view, let's send Cheng Zitong first." The voice asked, "Young Cheng? Can he handle it?" Master Gao answered decisively, "They're still trying to persuade He Xiaoxing. Until they convince him to come back, we'll let Cheng fill in." He looked up, raising his voice slightly. "Besides, do you have a better candidate right now?" There was a brief silence on the other end of the line before the voice replied, "Then you'd better keep a close eye on this seedling." "Now that we've built the shade canopy, do we have to water and fertilize it too?" Master Gao turned around and said, "I don't think the kid is that delicate. Whether he can reach what you and I envision depends on whether he can hold on to that drive." "You already had your mind made up, didn't you? Since it's your idea, handle it properly and don't drop the ball." With that, the line went dead, giving him no chance to say another word. Master Gao blinked, looked at the receiver, and muttered, "Old bastard, dumping the burden on me again." After a moment's thought, he dialed another number. After waiting a good while, the call went through. "Young Cheng, it's me, Gao Ping. Yes, I'm calling for you to take on a student. What's so troublesome? Can you do it or not? Give me a straight answer. Calling me Brother Gao won't work either... Good, it's settled!" After submitting his slips, Chen Chuan didn't just sit around waiting. First, he went to check out the Combat Arena that Wei Chang'an had mentioned. He had seen the arena from a distance before. It resembled a colossal white seashell, very striking. Stepping inside, the interior felt remarkably spacious and open, giving off a comfortable atmosphere. This was the primary training arena for Class B students. Quite a few students were already sparring with one another—both male and female, many of them upperclassmen. Most focused purely on their training, while the more lively ones were likely newly enrolled freshmen. When he walked over, people couldn't help glancing at him a few extra times. The uniforms for Class A and Class B students were identical, with the sole difference being that one bore a school insignia on the chest while the other did not. Although they found it a bit strange that a Class A student had come here, no one said anything, and everyone kept to their own business. Since he didn't initiate conversation, no one approached him either. Wherever he walked, the Class B students would take the initiative to step aside or let him pass first. On the surface, their attitude seemed polite enough, yet he could feel a palpable sense of alienation and boundary. This reminded him of what Wei Chang'an had said. It seemed that everyone was adhering to their own boundaries, moving only within the circles drawn by themselves or by the outside world. This was true not only in the academy, but out in society as well. After watching for a while, he noticed that among the students training here, only a small fraction had mastered a breathing technique. As for whether they had mastered jin, without fighting them, no one could tell, but according to his understanding, one could never develop jin without a breathing technique. As for technique, their fundamentals were all solid, and everyone trained hard, which offered him some inspiration. Yet he didn't notice that wherever his gaze fell, the students there would instinctively tense up. After observing for a good while, seeing that he wouldn't learn much more by staying, he headed back. The moment he departed, several people in the arena let out a breath of relief. "Was that an Upper Hall student? Why did he come here?" "Is he some senior? His gaze felt so oppressive." "He's pretty good-looking, though." However, several upperclass Class B students exchanged looks, their expressions grave and silent. When Chen Chuan had stood there just now, they had all felt an intense sense of threat. This sensation was not illusory; it stemmed from physical movement, posture, gaze, and subconscious, subtle adjustments that consistently homed in on the openings and vulnerabilities in their forms, leaving them deeply unsettled. At the same time, they felt a pang of frustration. They had never seen Chen Chuan before, which meant he was likely a freshman. They had thought that through their own hard work, they had caught up to the Upper Hall students of their year. Yet now they suddenly realized that a mere newcomer could make them feel as if thorns were pricking their backs. It was undeniably a heavy blow. With nothing left to say, they could only bury their heads and resume their bitter training in silence. After leaving the arena, Chen Chuan went to Spring and Autumn Lake. He ran several laps along the path encircling the lake, then went to one of the academy's individual training rooms. He trained there until dusk, ate dinner in the dining hall, and headed back to his dormitory once darkness fell. Just as he reached the door to his room and was about to take out his key, a voice called from down the hall: "Excuse me, wait a moment!" Turning around, he saw a short student trotting toward him holding a sheet of paper. Pausing, Chen Chuan asked, "Hello, is something the matter?" The short student extended a hand. "Hello, are you the student in Room 4? I'm in Room 3. My name is Feng Xiaoqi." Chen Chuan shook his hand. "Hello, Student Feng. I'm Chen Chuan." Feng Xiaoqi said enthusiastically, "Student Chen, here's the situation." He waved the paper in his hand. "Our row of dorms needs to elect a group leader. It's to prevent communication issues with the internal dispatch boxes. Whenever the academy or dormitory needs to relay a message, the group leader handles the communication. If students need any help, they can also inform the group leader first. I'm nominating myself to be the group leader. Do you have any objections?" Chen Chuan understood. This was essentially an errand-running role, perhaps carrying a tiny bit of authority, but he had no interest in it. He said, "Sure, I have no objection." "Great! Thank you, Student Chen!" Feng Xiaoqi beamed happily and went to knock on Room 2 next door. Someone happened to be inside, and a rather handsome youth emerged. Chen Chuan walked over to introduce himself as well. However, the youth seemed a person of few words; when asked his name, he merely replied, "Luo Kaiyuan." When asked if he agreed to Feng Xiaoqi being the group leader, he offered only a single "Fine." As for Room 1, it appeared to be unoccupied. Feng Xiaoqi mentioned that he had arrived five days early, yet to this day he hadn't seen anyone move in next door, though the dormitory room chart showed it was occupied. As the three of them were talking, the chime of the elevator sounded, followed by the slow, unhurried sound of footsteps. Down the corridor, an upperclassman wearing imported formal attire, gentle-faced and wearing spectacles, walked over. He smiled at Chen Chuan and said, "Student Chen, we meet again." Chen Chuan recognized him immediately. This was the senior who had received him during the re-examination and introduced him to the Mutual Aid Society. He asked, "Senior, is there something you need?" With one hand in his pocket, the senior adjusted his glasses and said with a smile, "Nothing major. Someone asked me to speak with you in private, Student Chen."