Flickering arcs of electricity danced within the fissure, which had expanded by nearly half its previous size. Surging gusts of air blasted outward, sweeping the surrounding crimson drizzle high into the sky.
Chen Chuan and Chen Bitong stood on opposite sides of the fissure, facing each other. The swirling currents whipped at their military greatcoats and hair, while the glow radiating from the fissure bathed most of their bodies and faces in shimmering light.
Watching the two take up their stances anew from a distance, Fang Zhixin could not help feeling a prickle of worry for Chen Bitong.
Even before mastering that jin technique, Chen Chuan had exerted an overwhelming sense of pressure. That was especially true when his spiritual power had just blanketed the entire field, completely shattering the mental consciousness of all the invading foes—a feat that had shaken Fang Zhixin to the core.
Now that he wielded such a potent technique as well, could the teacher truly withstand him?
Even Yu Lie, standing to the side, felt the same way.
Reason dictated that Chen Bitong was the target who needed to be brought down as quickly as possible, and Chen Chuan was the one he ought to support. Yet in this moment, he seemed to have forgotten his own allegiances, instinctively feeling tense on Chen Bitong's behalf.
Chen Chuan looked at the figure across from him and said, "Then Teacher Chen, please guide me."
As he spoke, he clenched his fingers and drove off his feet, taking the initiative to charge forward. With an explosive boom, his silhouette crossed dozens of meters in an instant, throwing a punch straight at him.
Chen Bitong did not dodge. As the stone beneath him shattered, he bent low, charged forward, and met the strike with an open palm!
Neither exerted their full jin this time, yet even before fist and palm made contact, their spilling jin collided first. Bursts of concussive shockwaves erupted in the air between them, rippling outward in ring after ring.
The scene was almost identical to Chen Bitong's earlier clash with Old Hu.
Neither allowed fist or palm to land solidly. After a momentary stalemate, another punch was thrown; again, it was merely jin colliding with jin, producing a dull, heavy concussive roar in the air.
While holding his palm strike, Chen Bitong looked up at him and said:
"This technique is what we usually call 'Mind Jin.' What kind of Mind Jin you temper and what effect it achieves depends on the jin techniques you have learned in the past, as well as what you desire.
"There is no Mind Jin that can do everything. Only a jin that aligns with your own thoughts and tactical strengths is best suited for you."
Chen Chuan could intimately feel that Chen Bitong's Mind Jin possessed distinct characteristics—it could permeate every part of an opponent's body and inflict internal devastation. While not particularly prominent in direct frontal assaults, paired with his elusive, lightning-swift offensive style, it was an uncanny fit.
As for Chen Chuan, he practiced the Zhouyuan Jin technique, whose greatest strength lay in its ability to simulate all manner of jin variations. The jin he currently unleashed naturally incorporated some of the Cloud-Collapsing Hand techniques taught by Instructor Wen. Thus, every strike carried the momentum to tear the air and shatter clouds, and channeling his power under the Furnace Breathing Technique felt even smoother.
Yet the potential of the Zhouyuan Jin technique clearly went far beyond this.
All of this could be understood and grasped through real combat.
With that thought, he continued to unleash an unrelenting offensive against Chen Bitong, who parried and deflected continuously.
However, Chen Chuan was already superior to him in raw power. Now that he had also mastered Mind Jin, every punch he threw produced an astonishing display of might, quickly suppressing him across the field.
After merely a few exchanges, Chen Bitong chose not to meet him head-on anymore. As another of Chen Chuan's fists crashed in, he left an afterimage in his place and slipped away into the fissure.
Chen Chuan immediately spread out his spirit, attempting to sense his whereabouts.
At that moment, Chen Bitong's voice echoed from all directions:
"Tracking with spirit also requires technique. If you simply sense with your spirit and then rely on physical senses to confirm it, an interval forms in between. By the time you pursue it, the opportunity is already lost. Those two made exactly that mistake.
"Once your spiritual power is strong enough, everything around you will appear in your mind like a web. Any vibration or disturbance anywhere will be perceived by you. You need only focus on it and immediately follow the spiritual conduction to track it down, rather than confirming it with your physical senses. That is how you find your target."
Hearing him say this, Chen Chuan immediately reined in his physical senses while elevating his spirit.
The prerequisite for achieving this was having sufficiently robust spiritual power in the first place. After merging with his second self, he already possessed a more than adequate foundation.
As his perception deepened, a distinct point noticeably different from its surroundings surfaced within his spirit. Though it was moving rapidly and remained difficult to pin down, his senses were no longer misled by the other afterimages.
Spinning around, his arm blocked Chen Bitong's incoming punch with a resounding crack. The recoil transferred right back, forcing the latter to retreat and duck back into the fissure, his voice drifting out at the same time:
"That's... the... way..."
With every word he uttered, he shifted to a different position. Yet Chen Chuan blocked his strikes accurately every single time. With each collision, his spiritual tracking grew sharper, until that sensed point became increasingly distinct in his mind.
He soon put an end to his passive stance, switching to an active offensive. Each time Chen Bitong's figure materialized anywhere, Chen Chuan spotted him immediately and pursued him with an attack.
In truth, had it been Nie Guanshan and Yang Shen earlier, even knowing this knack, they would have been unable to pull it off. They lacked his coordination and reaction speed; even if they managed to keep pace with Chen Bitong once or twice, once the latter began shifting repeatedly, they still would never have kept up.
After evading multiple times in succession, Chen Bitong realized that ordinary tactics could no longer shake Chen Chuan's pursuit. During yet another clash of jin, he used the recoil to leap backward, his silhouette vanishing on the spot.
In Chen Chuan's spiritual senses, that point abruptly appeared overhead. He looked up at once.
He saw Chen Bitong suspended horizontally in midair, silhouetted against the bright crimson glow, assuming a supple, soaring boxing stance. An instant later, he plummeted, striking downward with a punch that shook the air like wind and thunder—unleashing the Flying Dragon Fist Jin once more!
Earlier, he had suppressed three men single-handedly with this very fist technique; now, every bit of it came crashing down upon Chen Chuan alone.
Chen Chuan did not evade in the slightest, stepping forward to meet it with a punch. As their jin collided, he felt layer upon layer of crushing force pressing down, his body halting slightly.
After that one strike, Chen Bitong's figure blurred into several phantoms. Remaining airborne, he no longer shied away from frontal clashes. Each punch and kick that landed squarely against Chen Chuan's fists carried waves of jin, one surging after another in an endless barrage.
At this moment, Chen Chuan could feel that whenever he unleashed his jin, none of it landed solidly.
This was because the Flying Dragon Fist Jin possessed a unique trick: after Chen Chuan's jin was released, Chen Bitong could use the force to spring into the air, deflecting and neutralizing the power along the way before plunging back down again.
Meanwhile, Chen Chuan had to absorb the incoming jin from above each time. That meant Chen Bitong was the only one landing blows, while Chen Chuan could not harm him in return.
Earlier, Nie Guanshan and Yang Shen had realized that even if they didn't lose by fighting this way, they would never be able to pin him down, which was why they had been so anxious to change the dynamic. Now, Chen Chuan faced it alone.
Yet what those two could not accomplish did not mean he couldn't.
After repelling Chen Bitong once more, he lifted his head toward the sky. His spiritual power blanketed the field, instantly pinpointing the man's location.
This time, he did not remain in place. Leveraging the previous impact, he dipped slightly, sinking his center of gravity. Gathering strength for a split second, he sprang upward, launching himself into midair. A fist carrying the momentum to pierce the sky and shatter clouds drove straight toward Chen Bitong!
Chen Bitong was at the highest point. Facing Chen Chuan's assault, he neither dodged nor retreated, leaning back to execute a midair flip and punching downward. When their fist jin collided, the rain in the atmosphere burst into visible shockwaves. Chen Bitong flipped once more, using the momentum to leap even higher.
Chen Chuan's figure paused, compelled to fall downward. Yet before he could descend fully, Chen Bitong had already dissipated the jin from his fist. Reaching the peak of his ascent, Chen Bitong seemed to leap straight into the sunlight; with a flash of light, his figure vanished.
In the next instant, he appeared beside Chen Chuan, striking toward his back with a palm.
In midair, it was nearly impossible to exert leverage, turning Chen Chuan into an open target. Thus, leaping upward earlier appeared by all accounts to be an ill-advised move.
Yet that was precisely what Chen Chuan wanted Chen Bitong to think. He knew that as long as the man held the air, he held every advantage, making him utterly untouchable.
Rather than chasing him down, it was far better to make the opponent come to him.
The palm struck him squarely, its jin surging into his body. But he had his second self bear the brunt of it, while his mutated tissue twisted layer upon layer. Turning in midair, he came face-to-face with Chen Bitong, reaching out with both hands to seize him!
Even before his hands clamped down, a surge of jin penetrated across the space into the other man's body.
Although his feet had no purchase in midair, preventing him from unleashing sanshou jin, he practiced the Zhouyuan Jin technique—a technique defined by its ability to shift or mimic other jin at will.
With this strike, he unleashed seizing jin!
And it was no simple, ordinary jin, but seizing jin merged with his own spiritual power. The timing coincided precisely with the moment right after Chen Bitong delivered his blow, before he had time to duck back into the fissure. Caught by this hold, a tremor ran through his whole body, leaving him momentarily unable to break free.
In the next breath, Chen Chuan's hands came down with a snap, gripping Chen Bitong's shoulders firmly. Clamping onto him, he pulled the man toward himself, brought his hands together, and transformed his jin into grappling jin. At the same time, with a twist of his waist and back, he spun upside down in midair, plunging headfirst toward the ground and dragging Chen Bitong down with him!
***
Right around dinnertime, just as Chen Chuan sat down, his uncle Nian Fuli suddenly spoke up: "Chen Chuan, you've graduated from middle school now. There are no higher education colleges here in Yangzhi City. With my modest pay at the constabulary, your uncle has no way to send you to study in the high-society Center City. Have you given any thought to where you're going?"
Silence fell over the dining table. His aunt, Yu Wan, looked at Chen Chuan with concern, while his two young cousins clutched their bowls, their little heads glancing left and right.
Nian Fuli said, "If you haven't decided and have nowhere to go, I can arrange something for you. Don't complain about hard work, and don't whine about being tired. If you don't want to do it, say so early and find your own way."
Chen Chuan looked at Nian Fuli and smiled. "Younger Uncle, are you in such a hurry to drive me out?"
Nian Fuli glared at him. "Just Uncle. Leave off the 'Younger.'"
He reflexively reached for his coat pocket. Just as his fingers touched the cigarette case, he glanced at his son and daughter, pulled his hand back out, and frowned. "Stop grinning. Give me a straight answer. Your older cousin is making something of himself, so I don't have to worry about him, but your younger brother and sister are still small. In a few years, they'll be starting school, and our expenses will only grow. You're already sixteen. Your uncle isn't asking for anything in return; as long as you can support yourself down the line, that'll be enough. Tell me, isn't that fair?"
Chen Chuan nodded. "Uncle, you're right." After a moment's thought, he said, "Uncle, I was thinking of making my own way."
"On your own?"
Nian Fuli studied him for a moment, then said, "Fine. Doesn't school usually give you two months off? I'll give you two months, then. After two months, you stand on your own two feet, and your uncle won't have to look after you anymore."
Aunt Yu Wan opened her mouth as if to speak, but stopped.
Chen Chuan said, "All right. We'll do as Uncle says."
Nian Fuli looked him up and down. "A man keeps his word." He picked up his chopsticks and said, "Eat." Only after seeing him move his chopsticks did the rest of the family begin eating.
Chen Chuan reached for his chopsticks as well. Sensing something, he looked up. By the wall stood a youth identical to him, gazing at him with an eerie, hollow look. His uncle's family continued eating with heads bowed, entirely oblivious; it seemed only he could see him.
He naturally withdrew his gaze, contemplating the future as he ate. Before he knew it, he had swallowed his last bite. His aunt, who had been watching him closely, hurried to say, "Leave it. I'll do the dishes. You focus on figuring out your own path."
Chen Chuan looked at his aunt, then at the expressionless Nian Fuli. Setting down his bowl and chopsticks, he said, "All right. Uncle, Aunt, I'll head back to my room first."
Nian Fuli picked up a bite of food, chewed it slowly, and said nothing.
After Chen Chuan left, Yu Wan said softly, "The boy is still young."
Nian Fuli snapped, "Young? What's young about him? He's sixteen! When I was his age, I was already on the battlefield!"
"Fine, fine, we all know how capable you are."
Seeing that he had finished eating too, Yu Wan rose from the table, brought over a bottle of yellow rice wine, and poured him a cup. "I'll go check on the boy."
"Go on, go on," Nian Fuli waved impatiently. He took a sip from his wine cup, instantly feeling more at ease, while muttering inwardly, *This kid seems a bit different from before...*
"Dad, when I'm sixteen, are you going to kick me out too?"
Turning his head, Nian Fuli saw his younger son, Nian Mo, looking up at him with wide, eager eyes.
His younger daughter, Nian Lu, a three-year-old girl, chimed in with a babyish voice: "He'll definitely kick you out! You eat the most meat!"
"I... I don't eat that much! Dad..." Clutching his bowl, Nian Mo looked pitifully at Nian Fuli.
Nian Fuli chuckled, giving Nian Mo an affectionate cuff on the back of the head. "Brat, you're my son. How could I cast you aside? Your old man's seat is reserved for you. Go on, turn on the radio."
"Okay!"
Delightedly jumping down from his stool, Nian Mo pitter-pattered over and clicked on the antique radio, from which a crackle of static emerged.
"...The railway maintenance department reports that due to mudslides on Mount Xie, the reopening of the section originally scheduled for early June has been postponed once again..."
"...A group of convicts has escaped from Qiguang Prison. Wanted bulletins have now been issued. The primary fugitives are as follows: Fang Dawei, male, thirty-five years of age, powerfully built, responsible for numerous home invasions and street shootings; Tong Baitao, male, twenty-seven years old..."
"...Gang conflicts have erupted between the Blood Mark Gang and the Iron Chain Gang at the intersection of Xinqu Park and Micang Street. Several civilian residences were damaged during the clash, resulting in dozens of deaths and injuries..."
By then, Chen Chuan had returned to his room. This combined study and bedroom was about eight or nine square meters in size. The windowsill and old red-painted wooden floorboards were spotless, and the furnishings were kept in neat order, showing signs of daily tidying and cleaning.
A few movie posters were pasted on the walls. When he looked at them, the titles surfaced naturally in his mind: *The Lone Blade Knight*, *Beasts of the High Peaks*, *The Final Conquest*...
Stepping across the creaking floorboards, he walked to the window. In a corner of the well-worn writing desk sat a framed photograph of a young couple—the woman youthful and beautiful, the man tall and handsome, both dressed in finely tailored clothes, smiling back at him.
To the right of the desk stood a bookcase over two meters tall, packed with books. A quick glance revealed that besides a few old textbooks, most were extracurricular reading: *The Great Expansion*, *Year Fifteen of Jianzhi*, *The Mysterious Machu*, and the like.
He could not help muttering to himself, "Pity there's no *Dual-Use Personnel Handbook* or *Militia Military Training Manual*. At the very least, give me something like *One Hundred Thousand Whys*."
"What whys? Chan'er, can Auntie come in?" Yu Wan's voice called from outside the door.
"Chan'er" was the childhood nickname given to him by the parents of this body. Aside from Yu Wan, only that obnoxious younger cousin of his went around calling him that all day.
Chen Chuan said, "Come in, Auntie. It's nothing, just thinking about some questions."
"You've already graduated from middle school, Chan'er, yet you're still working so hard." Yu Wan walked in. Not yet forty, she had fair skin and rather ordinary features, whereas Chen Chuan was handsome with refined features, red lips, white teeth, and a tall frame. Standing together, their blood relation was only faintly discernible in the contours of their brows and eyes.
Yu Wan said, "Chan'er, don't blame your uncle for what happened today. He has his difficulties. Don't be stubborn and try to act tough; I'll speak to your uncle again later."
Chen Chuan smiled. "Auntie, don't worry. I'm not trying to act tough. I really do have a plan."
Yu Wan hesitated, then tentatively asked, "Chan'er... are you going to look for the Meng family girl?"
Hearing that mention, a young girl's silhouette involuntarily surfaced in his memories. He shook his head. "I'm not going to look for her."
Yu Wan said, "It's better not to. Her family has high standing, and the people around her keep their noses in the air. You've had a stubborn streak since childhood; you were innocent playmates as kids, but people drift apart as they grow up."
Chen Chuan said, "You're right, Auntie. Childhood things don't count. Nowadays she has housekeepers and retainers trailing her wherever she goes. Why would I go looking for embarrassment?"
Hearing him say this, Yu Wan was greatly relieved. She lifted the handkerchief bundle she had been clutching in her hand and peeled away the layers before Chen Chuan, revealing a stack of ten-yuan Jianyuan notes.
The banknotes featured cyan landscape patterns: on the front was a domed sky over squared earth, and on the reverse were stalks of rice and wheat pressing down upon a nine-tasseled imperial crown, with a watermark of a felt hat.
Taking Chen Chuan's hand, she pressed the money into his palm. "Take it. Spend it when you need to, don't pinch pennies. If it's not enough, your aunt still has more."
Chen Chuan did not close his hand around it. "Does Uncle know?"
Yu Wan said, "This is money your aunt saved for you." She gave his arm a gentle swat. "Don't call him 'Younger Uncle.' He doesn't like hearing it."
Chen Chuan chuckled and accepted it, saying earnestly, "Auntie, consider this a loan. I will pay it back."
"Sigh, we're family, why talk about paying it back? Just keep it safe." Only when Chen Chuan had put the money away properly did Yu Wan feel at ease. "I'll be going then. You've already graduated, so don't push yourself too hard. Remember to turn on the lamp when reading, don't ruin your eyes."
"All right."
Yu Wan gave a few more reminders before leaving the room.
Chen Chuan closed the door and pulled the cord by the entrance. A small hanging light on the ceiling lit up, casting a soft, pale-yellow glow.
He walked over to the bookcase, casually pulled out a volume, and sat by the edge of the bed, flipping through it with keen interest.
A long while later, he heard the grandfather clock outside chime ten times. Since he had important business to attend to tomorrow, he returned the book to its shelf, washed up briefly, and turned off the light to sleep.
In the pitch darkness, that youth who looked exactly like him stood by the bedside, still staring at him with that same eerie, hollow gaze.
In his dreams, he seemed to return to his previous life. After working for several years, he had gone on a hiking trip, coming across an ancient mirror exhibition while passing through a city's museum. Entering the hall out of curiosity, he had spotted a domed mirror suspended from the ceiling. At that exact moment, the reflection of himself within it had looked right back.
The instant their eyes met, his vision blurred. His body seemed to transform into an infant, growing from infancy into childhood, and from childhood into a youth—until one day, the image of a teal car flashed before his eyes. As the sound of the vehicle faded, everything plunged into darkness.
Bright sunlight streamed through the slits in the curtains, tearing away the dim slumber of the night.
Chen Chuan opened his eyes. Turning his head toward the alarm clock on the nightstand, he saw it read 5:50. He shook his head, got out of bed, got dressed, and stepped out to wash his face and rinse his mouth.
Nian Fuli was on duty at the constabulary and had left early in the morning. His two younger cousins were still asleep, while Yu Wan had gone out to buy groceries, having prepared breakfast for him before leaving.
After finishing breakfast, he returned to his room and put on his only set of formal student attire. Made of woolen cloth in a charcoal-gray hue, it was sharply tailored and gave him a crisp, spirited look.
He fastened the collar button, put on his student cap, and straightened himself before the mirror on the wardrobe. Taking down a gray canvas satchel from behind the door, he slipped in a canteen filled with water, put it on, then went to the front yard to fetch his bicycle and wheeled it out the main gate.
Watching the rising sun outside, he thought to himself, *For now, let's proceed with the original plan.*
Swinging onto the bike, he flicked the bell with his thumb, ringing out a crisp chime. Pushing on the pedals, he rode out of the residential alleyway, turning two corners before joining the main thoroughfare.
Nian Fuli was a patrol captain at the constabulary branch, and this neighborhood was home to patrol officers and their families. Consequently, public security here was fairly good and the streets were wide, lined on both sides with parasol trees. The late-May sunshine filtering through deep green leaves brought a pleasant lift to one's mood.
After riding along the avenue for half an hour, he entered Central Square. The tallest buildings in Yangzhi City were gathered here, most constructed during the Great Expansion about sixty years ago. Because tensions had run high back then, they were built with exceptionally solid materials, exuding a hefty, imposing presence amidst their cool tones.
Waiting for a trolleybus to pass by, he spotted seven or eight shady-looking characters sauntering over from the other side of the road.
One of them seemed keenly sensitive to being watched. He whipped his head around with a vicious glare, but upon noticing the satchel Chen Chuan carried, cursed something under his breath, spat at Chen Chuan's departing back, and turned away.
After crossing the square, Chen Chuan turned left onto the northbound avenue. About five minutes later, an imposing flying eave appeared on the eastern side of the street. As he drew closer, the grand gate of an academy came into view. It featured three portals spanning a hundred paces wide; the stone plaque above the central gate bore the five characters "Wuyi College" in bold, vigorous regular script. Posh motorcars could be seen driving in and out from time to time.
Squeezing the brakes, he put a foot down and came to a stop before a stone stele beside the gate. An introductory inscription was carved upon it: "Wuyi College was founded in the fifteenth year of Jianzhi and officially renamed in the thirty-fifth year of Jianzhi, with Cheng Yunbai as its first president..."
The academy's main gate faced an expansive, level plaza. The morning sun at seven or eight o'clock shone brightly, bathing the gate and flanking buildings in an aura of classic dignity.
His gaze wandered as if searching for something. After a moment, he spotted an inconspicuous sign near the side entrance reading: "Entrance Examination Registration This Way."
He let out a breath and dismounted. Glancing to the side, he saw that identical figure standing by the gate, looking right back at him. Withdrawing his gaze, he kept his expression natural as he pushed his handlebars, entering the college through the side gate.
...
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Chapter 555