Cheng Zitong nodded and said, "Yes, that exact saber jin. Don't look down on this saber style just because of its name. This jin technique can be applied to any saber style. It used to circulate in the north, but none of those versions were the orthodox transmission."
He pointed at the saber manual. "This copy, on the other hand, is the real deal. Beyond detailing the key methods of channeling jin, it even clearly records which medicines to use, their prescriptions, and how to apply them. Only a few crucial ingredients were passed down strictly by word of mouth; they weren't written down, so later generations never learned what they were.
"Not that it matters much. In the old days, these things were precious, so every step was observed with utmost care for fear of wasting even a drop. Nowadays, as long as you have money, you can track down any medicine you need. There's plenty out there."
With that, he pushed another notebook across the table and said, "I wrote down the key points in here. Take it and look it over. I've been a bit busy lately, so if there's anything you don't understand, give me a call."
Chen Chuan said, "Alright, thank you, Teacher."
"Then I'll be on my way. Take your time studying it."
"Let me see you out, Teacher."
After seeing Cheng Zitong off, Chen Chuan returned and leafed through both texts together. Only then did he realize that the Xuejun Saber was actually a "contraband weapon" forged through ancient methods.
The reason lay in its unique materials: it incorporated specialized mutated tissue.
According to the manual, a saber possessed a "saber heart." Once a wielder refined this heart, the blade would "come alive." Not only could it better conduct jin, but it could even repair itself when damaged, continually growing alongside its master.
Yet the annotations made the reality clear. In truth, this was merely a mutual assimilation between the martial artist's mutated tissue and the mutated tissue within the saber. The blade could never truly come to life, and its self-repair drew upon the fighter's own mutated tissue.
In the old era, some famous weapons were handed down through generations of masters and disciples, or fathers and sons. Often, only those who shared the same lineage of jin techniques could achieve a tight affinity with them. Over time, it was the person who conformed to the saber, rather than the saber conforming to the person.
However, the Xuejun Saber had never had an owner before falling into his hands. The benefit was that it would harmonize exceptionally well with him from the very start; the downside was that he had to nurture the blade himself.
There were roughly two ways to go about this. The first relied on breathing techniques and jin techniques, channeling both while wielding the blade. In fact, he had already been treading this path, which was why he had felt that strange sensation before, though it was a long and gradual process.
The other method, practiced in the past, was to awaken the so-called saber heart through extensive battle and slaughter. It was the fastest route, but unfortunately, the fastest way was also the most perilous. Those who chose this path rarely lasted long. After all, in the old days, the more one fought and killed, the higher the risks grew.
Modern weapons of quality were quite good in their own right. If one broke, you could simply replace it with another, which was far more convenient than relying on antique blades. Yet skilled fighters knew that no two sabers were identical; even the slightest difference could affect one's performance. Contemporary weapons were consumables, and expecting one to achieve the profound affinity of an ancient-forged blade was virtually impossible.
Thus, each path had its trade-offs, depending on how the wielder chose to proceed.
At present, Chen Chuan had no real choice. Consumable weapons meant spending more money, and he needed to save every coin to buy medicine; he could not afford to be wasteful.
Besides, a saber capable of conducting jin suited him well enough for now. As for the distant future, he would cross that bridge when he came to it.
Over the days that followed, he took the pass approved by Cheng Zitong and headed to the training hall every day to spar with students from the Weapons Division. Since they specialized in this discipline, their skills were formidable, and he benefited greatly from the exchanges.
One day in late November, he walked toward the cafeteria after wrapping up his morning training. Because it was a rest day, he planned to head over to his aunt's house after breakfast.
Just as he was about to enter the Class A cafeteria section, he suddenly heard someone call his name from behind. Turning around, he saw a young man standing there waving to him, flanked by a few companions.
He recognized him at once: it was Fang Zhiming, who had taken the second-round entrance examination alongside him. Chen Chuan walked over of his own accord and greeted him with a smile. "Classmate Fang, long time no see."
Fang Zhiming looked quite excited to see him. "Classmate Chen! Yeah, we haven't seen each other since exam day." He scratched his head. "Mainly because you're a Class A student, so we don't train together normally."
During the examination, Fang Zhiming had shown plenty of courage, but in the end, he had fallen short of becoming a Class A student. His overall performance had lagged slightly behind, which had indeed been a pity.
Chen Chuan felt sorry for him as well. Still, without sufficient talent or the requisite conviction, becoming a Class B student was not entirely a bad thing. Though Class A held a higher standing, the duties involved were undeniably far more dangerous.
Looking somewhat self-conscious, Fang Zhiming handed something over. "Someone asked me to give this to you. My family insisted, and I couldn't really refuse."
Chen Chuan took it and saw a business card belonging to a commission company. It seemed someone wanted to establish contact with him. The company certainly had reach, managing to track down even a connection as loose as Fang Zhiming.
He asked, "How many days have you had this?"
Fang Zhiming thought for a moment. "About seven or eight days. I can't get into the Class A dorms, but I figured you'd always have to come to the cafeteria to eat, so I've been waiting here for a bit every day."
Chen Chuan nodded in understanding. In times like these, life was not easy for anyone. He said, "Thank you for going through the trouble, Classmate Fang. Next time you need me, you can just call the front desk at my dorm building."
Fang Zhiming's eyes lit up. "Really? That'd be wonderful!"
The two chatted a while longer before saying their goodbyes.
When Fang Zhiming returned to his group, one of his companions said, "Little Fang, you weren't bragging after all! You really do have a Class A friend."
"Not bad at all. Once we graduate, you'll have someone up there who can speak for you."
Fang Zhiming shook his head. "I haven't thought about that. I think it's better if friends don't talk about those things so much."
"You're too stubborn! You have to take advantage of connections like this. Make sure to stay in touch often."
Fang Zhiming murmured noncommittally, but he didn't take any of it to heart. To him, a friend was a friend. Even though his family had pressured him into delivering the card, he never would have done it if it were going to cause Chen Chuan any trouble.
After finishing breakfast, Chen Chuan rode his bicycle out of the academy. He first stopped at the department store by Central Square to buy a wristwatch. It was quite a practical item to have, allowing him to check the time whenever he needed.
In truth, he rather missed the days of smartphones from his past life. Beyond telling the time, one could read the news on them. In this world, channels of information were scarce, leaving people largely in the dark.
After purchasing the watch, he bought several small toys, a jar of hand cream for his aunt, and, after a moment's thought, a forest python leather belt for Nian Fuli. Then he rode all the way to their home.
Upon seeing his aunt, he handed the watch back to her. Yu Wan said, "Your uncle still has an old spare. Keep using that one for now, Chan'er."
Chen Chuan raised his wrist and smiled. "Aunt, I bought one myself, so I won't need this anymore."
Yu Wan said, "Make sure it's a good one. If it doesn't keep time accurately, it'll hold you up."
Chen Chuan said, "Don't worry, Aunt. I'm still a student, so something simple is plenty." He glanced around; the radio was playing, but Nian Fuli was nowhere to be seen. He asked, "Uncle isn't home?"
His aunt replied, "A call came in earlier asking him to head down to the station. If he's not back by noon, we won't wait for him. We'll eat first."
Chen Chuan agreed and handed her the jar of hand cream. "Aunt, this is for you."
Yu Wan looked at it and chided gently, "Chan'er, why waste money on this? It isn't easy for you to earn a bit of cash. Wouldn't it be better to buy yourself some good food or things you need?"
Chen Chuan smiled. "Aunt, money is meant to buy happiness. If it brings joy to family, isn't that worth every penny?" Saying so, he handed the toys to his young cousins. The two sharp-eyed little ones had been buzzing around him from the moment he walked in.
Yu Wan sighed fondly. "Don't do it again next time."
Chen Chuan chuckled and spent some time playing with his cousins. As lunchtime drew near, the family gathered around the table, chatting and laughing. Right then, the telephone rang sharply.
Yu Wan hurried over to answer. "Old Nian? Yes, yes... What is it? Is that so? Alright, alright, be careful out there."
She hung up the receiver, her face clouded with worry. Turning to Chen Chuan, she said, "Chan'er, your uncle says he won't be able to come home today. Sounds like some major case broke out."
A major case?
Chen Chuan considered this. Nian Fuli had used that phrase only a handful of times in the past.
At that moment, the radio, which had been playing lyrical prose poetry, suddenly crackled with static. A broadcaster's urgent voice cut in:
"We interrupt this broadcast for breaking news. At 9:32 this morning, a bank on Liyuan Road was robbed. The perpetrators are armed with firearms and are currently engaged in a firefight with responding constabulary officers at the intersection.
"At 9:55 this morning, the private residence of Consultative Council Member Fang Zuo in Quanzhou District was attacked by a gang of fugitives. It is suspected that his family has been taken hostage. The assailants opened fire, killing and injuring multiple security personnel..."
Chen Chuan listened intently. Just then, the telephone rang once more. His aunt rushed over, pressing the receiver to her ear. After listening for a few moments, she covered the mouthpiece and called out, "Chan'er, it's for you."
Chen Chuan stepped over and took the phone. Cheng Zitong's voice came through the line. "Xiao Chuan, are you at home right now?"
"Yes, Teacher."
Cheng Zitong's solemn voice echoed back: "Return to the academy immediately. Something urgent has come up."
Chapter 82