Severing Jade

On the twenty-fifth, the day before Chen Chuan set out to return to Center City, the Gaotian Sect yielded under pressure from the Ferris Wheel Company, obediently handing over what was said to be the last remaining piece of Gaotian jade containing a jade core and delivering it into Mashiba Masaru's hands. "Gaotian jade." Mashiba Masaru stared intently at the object. It was a piece of pure white jade roughly the size of a pigeon's egg, resting upright on the table. Around its outer edge hovered a faint blue halo; looking into it felt like gazing into a distant, endless, crystalline sky. When he had asked for something that could not be severed, he had merely followed his inner instinct. He had not known what the Ferris Wheel Company would bring back. Yet the moment he laid eyes on this item, he knew it was precisely what he needed. All of this stemmed from the core principle of swordsmanship taught to him by Fenghe Shou: "Where the heart points, the spirit knows what I do not." With a single slash, one needed neither to deliberately search nor to deliberately observe; one would naturally find what one desired, and where the enemy was vulnerable. This was not a matter of relying on whims or luck. It required long, grueling discipline, day and night of meditation, the constant nourishment of mutated tissue with specialized medicine, and repeated battles of life and death, until the self achieved a spiritual resonance with the mutated tissue within the body. Yet such resonance had to be sought on the razor's edge between life and death. It was not something he could call upon at any given moment—not until he attained the next stage, "as my spirit knows." Once he reached that level, provided all external conditions were met, he could begin attempting to break through the limit. He looked down at the Gaotian jade, reached out, and stroked it, feeling its hard, icy touch against his fingertips and palm. It was said that when Waves Hall's first master, Chandao, crossed the eastern sea, he declared that every object under heaven could be severed. The Gaotian Sect had sent him such a piece of hard jade, intending to make him back down in the face of impossible difficulty. Yet Chandao, in the middle of lecturing on martial arts, casually drew his blade and cleaved it in two. Only after this did the Gong family grant him land, allowing him to establish Waves Hall on Erwen Island. Now, he was faced with such hard jade as well. Was this not a kind of omen? After fixing his gaze on the object for a moment, he suddenly drew his sword and slashed forward, only for the blade to freeze abruptly barely a finger's width away from the stone. Just as when facing that phantasmal figure, even though the blade had not actually struck, he knew he could not cut through it. His heart had already told him the outcome. And if the heart could not cross that threshold, neither could the blade. Undeterred, he took several steps back, sat down cross-legged on the floor of the dojo, and entered deep meditation. While he meditated, messages traveled back and forth outside, rapidly converging aboard the vessel. "Based on our intelligence analysis, the two targets we need to eliminate will very likely head back to Center City together." The planners gathered around the table all furrowed their brows upon hearing the news. Having both targets depart together seemed like it would make their operation easier, but in truth, they did not want this at all. Neither target was easy to deal with. Combining them drastically increased the complexity of the operation, especially with the potential involvement of certain government forces, which introduced far too many variables. The person in charge asked, "When are they leaving?" The informant replied, "Very likely tomorrow or the day after, no later than the day after tomorrow at the latest." The person in charge turned to the manager beside him. "How are preparations coming along on Mashiba Masaru's end?" The manager answered immediately, "He just received the Gaotian jade and is currently alone in the training room, likely preparing for something." On the other side, an analyst looked at the leader and reminded him, "Team Leader, there is only a day or two left. If he doesn't emerge in time, the original plan will have to change. Shouldn't we..." "We wait," the person in charge replied firmly. He swept his gaze over everyone present. "What we need is a sharp, obedient blade, not a blunt one thrust out in haste. That would be useless and a waste of all our prior preparations." A full day quickly passed, yet there was no response from inside the training room. Soon, fresh intelligence reached the conference room. "Reporting, Team Leader! According to radio reports, both targets departed the peripheral city half an hour ago and are currently heading back toward Center City." The analyst took the report, glanced through it, and handed it to the team leader. "It will take them roughly six to seven hours to reach Center City. Even if we set out right now, go ashore, and move to intercept them—even if we skip the preparations that need to be arranged in advance—it will take us at least four hours. "That leaves us with only about two hours. If we miss it, they will enter Center City." He looked up. "Team Leader, there has been no movement from Mr. Mashiba for an entire day. Shouldn't we go check on him?" Everyone in the room turned toward the person in charge, waiting for his decision. The person in charge raised a hand, looked at the crowd, and said resolutely, "We wait." Inside the training room, each time Mashiba Masaru finished a cycle of meditation, he would rise to his feet and attempt to strike the Gaotian jade with his blade. Yet every single time, the edge stopped right before reaching the stone. He showed no impatience. When a strike failed, he simply sat back down to meditate and prepare for the next attempt. These were not pointless efforts. He was using the stone to hone his spirit and deepen his affinity with his mutated tissue. With every swing, his state rose a fraction higher. Yet after those early attempts, he found that toward the end, he was always just a hair short. Not only could he no longer elevate himself further, but there were even faint signs of regression. He knew this was like rowing against the current: failure to advance meant falling back. If he did not succeed this time, a shadow would likely fall over his heart, and he would never be able to reach the step he envisioned. With that thought, he brought the blade horizontal, slowly supporting it across the crook of his hand before his face. After staring at it for a few moments, he spat a mouthful of reserved vital essence onto the blade. The long sword slowly absorbed the vital essence. After a dozen breaths, it became pristine and lustrous once more, yet a subtle throb emanated from it. Mashiba Masaru let out a long breath. Without wiping the crimson blood from the corner of his mouth, he abruptly rose, gripped the hilt, and slashed horizontally. This time, the strike flowed unhindered, tracing a half-arc through the air. He held the follow-through posture. A moment later, the upper section of the jade slipped sideways and fell onto the low table with a click. Hearing the sound, his entire body relaxed, and a wave of mental exhaustion washed over him. Yet his eyes were exceptionally bright, for he had grasped the essence of this strike. On a physical level, it was impossible to cut through this supposedly hardest material in existence. However, the Gaotian jade was something that possessed "spirit." He had no need to sever the jade's physical form; he only needed to sever that wisp of spirit. When the spirit was broken, the form could not endure. This was what the first master, Chandao, had referred to as "severing the intent, not the form." Even so, he did not believe he had attained the first master's realm, as he could only deliver such a strike after a prolonged buildup of momentum. Perhaps only by reaching the stage of "as my spirit knows" could one execute every slash in this manner. Just then, he noticed a flicker of light where the jade had split. It was not mere light, but something revealed from within once the body of the jade was broken open. He straightened up and walked toward the table. As he drew near, his depleted mental energy seemed to receive a form of nourishment, slowly recovering. He knew this was the jade core of the Gaotian jade—the seat of its "spirit." Once this broke, the entire Gaotian jade was undone. The core inherently possessed the property of elevating one's spirit. Compensating with it after thorough depletion allowed him to stabilize his state of mind. After quietly sensing it for a moment, he swept several tiny fragments of the core into his palm. Turning the blade over, he removed the retaining peg on the hilt, poured the fine fragments inside, and secured the peg back in place. Giving the sword a slight twist, he immediately adjusted to the minuscule change in weight. Then he turned around to face the space behind him, where the phantasmal figure resembling Chen Chuan appeared once more. He watched it for a few seconds, let out a sharp cry, stepped forward, and lunged with a swift cut, rushing several paces past the phantom's flank before coming to a halt. A moment later, the phantom behind him wavered and dispersed entirely. With a flick of his blade, he reversed his grip and slowly slid it back into the scabbard. At this moment, he felt his condition had reached its absolute peak, and the jade core fragments preserved within the sword would allow him to sustain it. Carrying his blade, he strode to the side of the training room and pushed open the heavy doors. Outside, a drizzle was falling. Beneath the overcast sky, distant ocean waves rose and fell, heralding an approaching storm. Several people were waiting outside the door, including the manager. Seeing him emerge, the manager rushed forward and bowed to him. "Mr. Mashiba, you're out." Looking up, he added, "Mr. Mashiba, we're running out of time." Mashiba Masaru asked, "How much time is left?" "Five hours at most," the manager said gravely. "We only have five hours left." Mashiba Masaru offered a slight bow. "My apologies for the wait. I am ready." A look of delight surfaced on the manager's face. He immediately used his boundary credential to contact the team leader, then said solemnly, "Mr. Mashiba, time is of the essence. If you're ready, we set out now." On the other side, at almost the exact same moment, Chen Chuan's car had just driven out of Yangzhi City. High in the sky behind him, Chaoming flew overhead, following the car's advance. His car came to a stop after passing the final inspection station, and he raised his arm to check his watch. After waiting less than ten minutes, a clear chirp echoed from the sky. A moment later, he saw through the rearview mirror a motorcade driving toward him from behind.