After lunch, Wei Dong went back to the training hall to practice, while Chen Chuan returned to his dormitory. He informed Yan Yi about Wei Dong's situation, and she said everything would be arranged within two days.
With that matter settled, he turned his attention back to his cultivation.
Two days later, feeling that he had gained initial mastery of the mind-stilling method and consolidated it, he sent Teacher Xue a message through the academy platform detailing his progress.
Teacher Xue replied, "Good. Tomorrow, still on the seventieth-floor training ground. I'll arrive at nine in the morning."
Chen Chuan responded, "Teacher, I will be there on time."
Having agreed on the time, he brewed a cup of clear tea and sat back on the sofa.
Aside from mental training, he still needed to do physical workouts, taking special medicine every two or three days to further improve himself.
His days were packed full. By now, he was already replacing sleep with breathing techniques at night.
Yet he did not feel tired in the slightest; instead, he took immense joy in it. Feeling himself make progress every single day was profoundly gratifying, easily drawing him completely into it without realizing the passage of time.
Even so, between training sessions, he didn't lose touch with the outside world. He set aside time each day to browse the news as well as updates from the bureau and the company.
The company, in particular: Yan Yi compiled a concise news digest every day and uploaded it to the reference platform. It covered all kinds of subjects, making it far more convenient to check there directly rather than searching on his own.
However, some things weren't included—such as information on Chen Bitong's training class. He recalled it being mentioned that it would start in mid-to-late February, which was right around now. When the time came, he would certainly have to pay a visit.
Chen Bitong was widely considered the man closest to becoming a martial artist. Since he had opened such a training class, it couldn't just be for show; he was bound to share genuine, substantive material. Chen Chuan wondered what it would be.
After reading through various news items for a while, he took a sip of tea and cleared out the spam accumulated from the past month—solicitations from Qingnang Jade Workshop sent every few days, as well as advertisements that various companies squeezed in whenever possible.
While he was tidying them up, Tan Zhi's avatar on the boundary credential began to flash. Chen Chuan connected the call, and Tan Zhi's voice came through:
"Classmate Chen, I snagged a few theater tickets again! This one's the premiere production rehearsed for the New Year. Even councilors and dignitaries from the Municipal Administration are going to be there. I've already invited Pan Xiaode and Qi Huixin. Care to join us, Classmate Chen?"
Chen Chuan asked, "When is it?"
"Just on the rest day at the end of the month."
Chen Chuan considered it. He did have time; on rest days he usually took a break from cultivation to stroll outside. He said, "All right, I have time."
"Great! See you on the rest day at the end of the month, then."
After confirming the plan with him, Chen Chuan logged onto the Fringe Channel and noticed an unread message.
Opening it, he saw it was a response to a question he had posted on the platform after returning to Center City, mainly inquiring about a location that had appeared in his memory dreams.
He had sketched out the surrounding landscape based on his impressions at the time. No one had responded previously, but now someone finally had.
"This place ought to be 'Taigong Cliff.' I went there once. My grandaunt's place is only ten li from there, and the inn her family runs on the mountain makes serious bank."
"Now that you mention it, yeah! Isn't that Taigong Cliff? The OP's drawing was way too abstract, or I'd have recognized it right away."
Ignoring the second reply, Chen Chuan immediately searched for it. Taigong Cliff lay in the heartland of Great Shun, a scenic landmark along the middle reaches of the Mo River. Its most famous features were a ten-li plank trestle and hanging galleries, with the treacherous Jilang Gorge not far off. Many tourists visited every year.
Plank trestle, hanging galleries—that matched the scenery from his last dream. It had to be that place...
He checked several landscape photographs and confirmed it was indeed the spot. In that case, he could visit when he found the time. Being there in person might jog more memories, potentially uncovering more clues regarding the original body's cause of death and his parents.
Still, there was no rush. Even if he found out something, it would be meaningless if he couldn't solve the underlying problems; it would only add to his troubles. It was better to take things one step at a time.
He had intended to browse for a bit longer before logging off, but a piece of news suddenly jumped to the very top of the light screen, catching his attention.
Clicking on it, he found it was actually related to Ferris Wheel Company. A convoy and warehouse near its port had come under attack, accompanied by scattered photos and video clips.
Hundreds of speculations and discussions were rapidly accumulating beneath the post.
Rather than reading those discussions, he went straight to the Disposal Bureau's internal intelligence platform and quickly located the source and corresponding report.
The attack had occurred forty-five minutes ago, carried out by a sizable force—an armed unit of over a hundred men, equipped not only with armored combat vehicles but also mounted heavy weapons.
The battle lasted for half an hour. Ferris Wheel Company's security suffered heavy casualties, preliminarily estimated at over forty dead and wounded, with one middle-management employee killed. In addition, two storage and transport warehouses were destroyed and set ablaze. From the footage provided by the bureau, thick billows of smoke rolled across the scene, filled with ambulances and firefighting vehicles.
He studied it closely. The leader of the group was a powerfully built, burly man whose body was half-converted into implants—unquestionably a third limit fighter. The people flanking him were clearly no pushovers either.
He skimmed the man's dossier. This was an armed mercenary team called "Bloodhammer," though they hadn't previously been active in Jibei Circuit Center City.
His expression turned subtly pensive. While violent clashes were frequent in Center City, one on such a scale was exceedingly rare. After all, when a force of that size assembled, neither the Disposal Bureau nor the city patrol could plausibly turn a blind eye.
Yet this time, they had simply failed to see it.
Furthermore, under normal circumstances, the moment such a violent incident erupted, an emergency notification would be blasted to all Disposal Bureau personnel, and the city patrol would rush to the scene to watch, if only for appearances' sake.
Yet this time, not only was there no prompt alert, but from the records, even the city patrol had failed to arrive in a timely manner. It seemed as though they were deliberately letting things take their course.
What was more, for the Bloodhammer mercenary squad to suddenly pull out so many light and heavy weapons and expend firepower with reckless abandon, they almost certainly had the backing of another company.
His mind raced, and Lianwei Heavy Control immediately came to mind.
Lianwei Heavy Control's primary business was mercenaries and transportation; mobilizing personnel and weapons was trivial for them. But usually, oversight and law enforcement agencies kept watch. Moving small batches of personnel and arms might slip through, but under normal circumstances, a scale like this was practically impossible.
The conclusion was obvious.
This incident had undoubtedly been tacitly sanctioned by the Disposal Bureau.
Indeed. Having had its personnel attacked twice in a row, the Disposal Bureau was never going to let it slide. As an armed law enforcement agency, even without direct evidence and unable to touch them through normal legal avenues, they had plenty of ways to strike back.
Such attacks would likely not be few in the days ahead; there would only be more.
After reading for a while longer, he logged out, took another sip of tea, and glanced outside. The weather looked pleasant today. Setting down his teacup, he walked over, rubbed Chaoming's head, and headed into the training room to exercise.
The following day, Chen Chuan arrived at the training hall before nine o'clock. The place was vast and empty, with not a soul in sight. This was expected, however. Rather than waiting idly, he sat down and began practicing his breathing technique.
It was nearing midday when footsteps sounded from behind.
"Oh dear, oh dear, Trainee Chen, I'm so sorry! Something came up as I was heading out that needed handling. It definitely won't happen next time."
Teacher Xue spoke as he strolled over.
Chen Chuan stood up and said, "You are too kind, Teacher. It is only right for a student to wait for his teacher."
Teacher Xue said, "Definitely won't happen again, I promise. If I delay you again, I'll definitely find a way to make it up to you. After all, a student's time is valuable too. Come, sit, sit."
Chen Chuan waited until he took a seat before sitting down himself.
Teacher Xue said, "Let me see your progress."
Chen Chuan immediately stilled his mind. After this period of practice, while he might not be a master of the mind-stilling method, he could control it freely. With just a shift of thought, he clamped down and suppressed all stray thoughts at once.
Teacher Xue needed only to observe Chen Chuan's field to grasp his progress.
In terms of cultivation speed, Chen Chuan wasn't the fastest. Xue knew someone at the Main Academy who had stilled their mind on the spot the moment the technique was taught, dazzling quite a few people back then and even catching the eye of the upper echelons.
Yet Chen Chuan's mental force was steady and balanced—solid as a rock. It wasn't dazzling, but it was certainly not lagging behind.
Though Xue was easygoing by nature, he actually favored students like Chen Chuan: learning whatever was taught, advancing steadily, and not messing around with useless antics.
Those exceptionally brilliant students were prone to all kinds of unpredictable variables and mishaps. They always pulled stunts, creating extra work for him. And in the end, even if they were successfully trained, neither the student nor the other teachers would credit him for it—they would just chalk it up to the student's innate genius. What a pain that was!
He spoke up, "Not bad. You've basically grasped the mind-stilling aspect now, Trainee Chen. Then let's proceed to the next part..."
Though he arrived late, once he entered teaching mode, he was crisp, efficient, and wasted no time.
"Once mental force is gathered and contained, the next step is to temper it.
"From the old era to the present day, many methods have been developed: prayer methods, visualization methods, seated meditation methods, posture methods, vocal methods, and so on. But in my view, the most direct and effective approach is the tempering method, which can be supplemented with other techniques.
"The method is simple: using a powerful and ferocious mental force to assault and temper your heart jade, grinding away impurities to make it solid and condensed.
"Naturally, it has its drawbacks. Prolonged grinding like this carries the risk of absorbing the other person's mental impressions, gradually becoming influenced by them until you lose what makes you unique.
"Therefore, the person responsible for the assault must understand the stakes, know how to exercise restraint, and harbor no hostility toward you. Otherwise, you could be ruined without even realizing it. Keep that in mind."
Chen Chuan nodded. "This student will remember."
Teacher Xue looked pleased, then adopted a solemn expression. "Good. Now, steady your mind. The tempering method is highly effective, but it places extreme demands on the recipient's willpower. One false step, and you could pay a severe price. Tell me when you are ready."
Chapter 476