After Guan Yuming led the constabulary forces back into the city, he did not let his guard down. Instead, he maintained high alert throughout the entire night. It was not until early the next morning, once he confirmed there were no immediate issues, that he finally let his men rotate off duty in shifts to rest.
The upper echelons of the constabulary knew full well that the resistance organization had indeed had a hand in this incident. The resistance would never have aided Fang Dawei's gang out of charity, nor would they simply sit idle.
The current lack of movement could only mean that Guan Yuming had brought his men back too swiftly, giving them no time to strike. That buried mine remained in place, and there was no telling when it might detonate.
As captain of the Baofeng District squad, Nian Fuli had stood watch through the night. Toward noon the next day, the chief called him in for a brief questioning before finally letting him go.
Leaving headquarters, countless colleagues took the initiative to greet him along the way. He knew he was riding on the coattails of his nephew's success, but he could not help feeling proud, ringing his bicycle bell with exceptional vigor all the way home.
"Old Nian! Old Nian's back!"
"Captain Nian is back! Thank you for your hard work!"
"Old Nian, just getting home? Must be exhausted! My man had the night shift yesterday too, been complaining non-stop."
"Datou, you're not getting any younger either, don't wear yourself out too much!"
As Nian Fuli rode through the alley, it was almost lunchtime. Hearing the bicycle bell, neighbors poked their heads out one after another to call out warm greetings.
Everyone in the constabulary residential compound knew by now: Nian Fuli's nephew had returned yesterday in Deputy Chief Guan's private car, escorted right to the doorstep by Patrol Sergeant Bei himself. Word was that he had helped the department capture Fang Dawei's gang, bringing tremendous glory to the entire constabulary!
Nian Fuli answered every one of them in turn, taking quite a while just to make it through the narrow alley. Stepping into his courtyard, he was humming opera tunes under his breath. When he walked into the living room, Yu Wan came forward to take his bag, giving him a gentle pat. "Hurry up and change. You're covered in dust and cigarette smoke."
"I already dusted off outside," Nian Fuli said, handing over a folded newspaper. "Take a look."
"What's this?" Yu Wan asked.
"Little Chuan's in there."
Yu Wan hastily snatched it, spread it open, and read aloud: "'Benevolent and Brave Wuyi Youth Assists Constabulary in Capturing Desperate Bandits...' What a tacky headline. Doesn't show how wonderful our Chan'er is at all." She flipped it front and back. "Wait, it doesn't even mention his name..."
"You don't get it, do you? That's to protect him!" Nian Fuli poured himself a cup of water. "What Little Chuan did—the constabulary remembers, and Wuyi College remembers. Just you watch, good things are coming his way."
Yu Wan still looked dissatisfied. She stepped over, snatched the cup from his hand, and grabbed the thermos to pour hot water. "Why drink cold water? Drink it hot! I already had it ready for you, and you didn't even notice! Young and old, every last one of you makes me worry! As for that newspaper, it might as well have said nothing at all."
"He made the papers, what more do you want?" Nian Fuli muttered under his breath, *I've never even been in the paper once myself.*
Complaints aside, Yu Wan hurried back over to pick up the paper and read through it carefully several times.
Meanwhile, Nian Fuli yawned as he changed out of his clothes and shoes.
Yu Wan pressed the newspaper down and said, "Oh, right. Since yesterday afternoon, all I've been doing is answering the phone. Every call was from your constabulary! They all asked about Chan'er—how old our Chan'er is, whether he's betrothed yet. Chan'er is only sixteen! Even if it comes to that, he should make up his own mind. Didn't Second Sister refuse to listen to Mom and Dad back then too?"
"Little Chan has his own mind," Nian Fuli said. "We don't need to fret over that."
Yu Wan glanced at the floor, stood up, and fetched a mop. As she mopped, she asked, "I saw others getting back pretty early. Captain Sun next door got back ages ago, so why are you so late?"
"Late?" Nian Fuli chuckled. "Why late? Today the old company commander called me over, said he remembered how hard I've worked all these years, talked with me for a good while, and only then let me go."
Having been married to him for so many years, Yu Wan caught the implication instantly. She stopped mopping, looked up, and said, "Old Nian, why do I hear something behind those words?"
Nian Fuli waved a hand dismissively. "Don't jump to conclusions, nothing's set in stone yet. I'm going to get some sleep. Call me when lunch is ready." With his hands clasped behind his back, he ambled off toward the bedroom.
Yu Wan pursed her lips. "Smug fool." But her mopping briskly picked up speed, and she began humming a tune she had often hummed in her youth.
***
Inside Chen Chuan's dormitory at Wuyi College, Feng Xiaoqi paced back and forth holding a newspaper. He looked down at the article, then looked up at Chen Chuan, his face full of awe and envy. "Student Chen, that's amazing!"
Luo Kaiyuan nodded as well. "Student Chen, you did wonderfully." His focus, however, was different from Feng Xiaoqi's—not on how powerful Chen Chuan was, but on the part where villagers expressed gratitude to Chen Chuan for avenging their loved ones.
Chen Chuan said, "If you two had been there, you would have done the same."
Luo Kaiyuan agreed wholeheartedly.
Feng Xiaoqi shook his head like a rattle-drum. "Not me, definitely not me! Mainly because I'm nowhere near as strong as you guys."
"Xiaoqi, don't underestimate yourself," Chen Chuan said.
None who became Class A students at Wuyi were weak. They either possessed natural talent or exceptional aptitude. He had observed both of his classmates, and their skills were remarkably high.
Feng Xiaoqi looked a bit bashful. After a moment's thought, he asked excitedly, "Student Chen, will the school give you a commendation for this?"
"Perhaps," Chen Chuan said. "It's just a shame that Senior Liu didn't receive any of this. Even the paper only mentioned him in a single line. It feels unfair to him."
Luo Kaiyuan said earnestly, "If you do more in the future, then he won't have died in vain."
Chen Chuan looked at him and nodded.
Returning to the academy was akin to entering a sheltered harbor. Although news from the outside still reached them, once the dormitory door was shut, the clamor outside could not disturb him in the least.
He quickly slipped back into his daily training routine.
It was not until after dusk that Cheng Zitong came by. Entering the room, he sat on the sofa, looked Chen Chuan over, and said, "Mm, in one piece. Very good."
"I caused you worry, Master."
Cheng Zitong waved a hand. "It was somewhat risky, but I know you measure your steps."
"The only regret is Senior Liu," Chen Chuan said.
Cheng Zitong said, "I know about that student, Liu Xin. He had a strong sense of justice and was especially eager to take responsibility. He was a lot like another student I know, and often looked up to him as a role model. Mm, perhaps that was why. The academy will oversee his final affairs. In life, he was a brave warrior; in death, he deserves every honor due to him."
He picked up his briefcase and took out a form. "I came today to tell you one more thing. In a few days, come with me to the Review Committee to claim your weapons license."
Chen Chuan was taken aback. "Wasn't the designated assignment withdrawn? How can I still get the weapons license?" he asked in surprise.
Cheng Zitong said, "Word is someone in the Municipal Administration spoke up, arguing that canceling a commission of such gravity on a whim was far too irresponsible, so they reinstated it. Some prominent figure or backing faction must have pushed for it. Think about it, and you should have an idea."
Recalling how Guan Yuming had his official car bring him back yesterday, Chen Chuan already had his answer.
"There is something else I need to remind you of." Cheng Zitong's expression grew solemn. "Molan Company is a behemoth, not something ordinary people or factions can shake. While you are still weak, you must exercise extreme caution. Do not recklessly challenge them. Of course, if they push you to the brink, do not back down either. The world is vast. So long as you have spirit, ability, and conviction, you will always have a chance to settle accounts down the line."
Chen Chuan nodded and said seriously, "Yes. Thank you for the guidance, Master."
Cheng Zitong's expression relaxed slightly. "I know. You understand these things well enough, so there is no need for me to lecture you. Just make sure to think everything through before acting in the future."
Chen Chuan acknowledged his words. After a moment's thought, he asked about something else: "By the way, Master, it has been a while since the Child in the Well assignment. When will I be able to take on the next one? I find these matters quite intriguing."
Cheng Zitong laughed. "When you walk out in the world, who could ever doubt you're Cheng Zitong's student?"
Very few people ever bothered with commissions regarding urban legends; in the entire academy, only he researched them out of personal interest, and Chen Chuan happened to suit his tastes completely.
He considered it briefly and said, "Mm, no rush. Those tasks take a toll on people. Wait until you've received your weapons license—it will make handling commissions much easier. Besides, due to the resistance organization, many areas have been locked down over the past two days, making things difficult to navigate. Let's wait until this storm blows over."
Chen Chuan agreed. He had indeed been stretched rather tight recently, and the next couple of days would be a good chance to settle his mind and let things settle.
Cheng Zitong had other matters to attend to, so he did not stay long. He reminded Chen Chuan once more to accompany him to the committee in three days' time, then picked up his briefcase and departed.
After seeing him off, Chen Chuan returned to the living room. He brought out the Xuejun Saber, sat down, and began slowly wiping it clean with the blade oil Old Lady Ni had gifted him.
After yesterday's battle, the blade had drunk its fill of blood and continuously channeled his jin. Held in his hand now, it felt even more harmonious, its weight seemingly lighter.
Moreover, after intense combat, minor nicks and scratches inevitably marred the blade, yet after a single night, they seemed to have vanished completely upon closer inspection today.
It truly was a saber capable of self-repair. One could feel that the more it was wielded, the better it conformed to the wielder's will, and the sharper it became.
That second method of nurturing the blade had indeed accelerated its progress. Yet he always kept in mind: man wields the saber, not the saber the man. There was no need to pursue slaughter solely to cultivate the weapon; every strike he delivered had to align with his own intent and conviction.
He lifted his gaze. His Second Self leaned against the wall.
Yesterday's brutal combat had yielded an immense response from the Second Self. To his own surprise, his overlap duration had increased by over half an hour, surpassing not only all his past improvements, but also exceeding his previously accumulated overlap time.
Because of this, the overlap duration now neared a full hour!
This was a tremendous leap.
But it was not enough.
Far from enough.
Chen Chuan gazed out through the floor-to-ceiling window, looking far into the distance.
It was foreseeable that as he advanced along this path, what he would face in the future would not merely be skilled fighters from training grounds or hardened bandits, but opponents far beyond his current imagination.
Yet it was precisely such adversaries, such goals, that gave true meaning to the direction he was heading.
At that thought, he lifted the freshly maintained Xuejun Saber and delivered a light slash forward. The slender blade hummed with a resonant vibration. A brilliant flash of snow-white light burst within the room, as if the air ahead had been torn open for a fleeting moment.
After a brief pause, his wrist turned; drawing his elbow close to his chest and bracing the horizontal blade against his shoulder, he guided the edge into the scabbard at his side. With a crisp clack, the cold glint vanished. Everything returned to stillness, waiting quietly for the next draw.
Chapter 93