When Meeting Is Hard, Parting Is Harder, Part Two

Qinghe Temple.

Zhang Xuan Pavilion.

When Zhang Rongfang arrived downstairs, two Servant Disciples were just giving the pavilion a thorough cleaning.

Piles of miscellaneous junk and rubbish had been swept out and stacked in the open space to the right.

Sunlight shone down, leaving the ground before the door a bright grayish yellow. Not even a blade of grass was visible.

There were still weeds growing between the paving stones elsewhere, but over here at Master's place, Zhang Rongfang was speechless. He did not need to think to know that it had to be his Master's obsessive compulsiveness—he had specifically ordered people to pull every last one out.

He stepped forward, and the two Servant Disciples hurriedly cupped their fists in salute.

He reached the main door and was about to step inside.

"Wait!!"

Master Zhang Xuan suddenly barked out a sharp shout.

One of Zhang Rongfang's feet was already raised, hanging in midair as he stared in astonishment at Master Zhang Xuan, who was jogging out from inside the building.

"Master, what is this??"

"Take off your boots! I just mopped this floor. Don't get it dirty!" Zhang Xuan pointed sternly at the gleaming, spotless floor.

"..."

Speechless, Zhang Rongfang changed into wooden slippers before he was finally allowed inside.

The two went one after the other to the tea room on the second floor.

A pot of flower tea was steaming atop a charcoal brazier.

They sat facing each other. Zhang Xuan picked up an apple from a wooden tray beside him and carefully peeled it with a small knife.

"Why do you keep running over here every few days, kid? If you're stationed down there, then stay there and do your duty properly."

"No, Master. Your disciple has just received news that three people from the Rice Gang have disappeared. One of them is Chen Wuyou's father, Chen Zhihan," Zhang Rongfang said solemnly.

"And?" Zhang Xuan's expression was cold. "What do the Rice Gang's affairs have to do with you? Just live your own life properly and that's enough."

"But..." Zhang Rongfang still wanted to ask.

"Enough, enough. If it's all trivial matters like this, hurry back. Stop chattering in my ear all day when there's nothing important."

Zhang Xuan waved a hand.

Zhang Rongfang was helpless. More and more, he became certain that Master had to know something.

But since Master was unwilling to speak of it, there was nothing he could do.

"Fine. There is one more matter, though." His expression turned serious.

"Speak."

"Recently, your disciple has felt something stirring within me. I suspect I am close to Breaking Limits. But what exactly is Breaking Limits? I ask Master for guidance." Zhang Rongfang lowered his head slightly.

"Entering the Ranks?" Zhang Xuan hissed as hot water scalded his hand. He looked up at this newly accepted disciple of his.

He pressed his lips together and thought for a moment.

"Breaking Limits sounds mysterious, but it is actually just a very simple state of the human body."

He took a wooden spoon, lightly scooped up some tea, and drew a circle on the stone table beside them.

"This is a person's usual state. Your strength, speed, endurance, and mental focus all have a circle this large as their range."

"The edge of the circle is the limit of the human body. And Breaking Limits is..."

He drew a line across the edge of the circle with the spoon.

At once, a gap appeared in the circle.

"It is breaking that circle and allowing the body to suffer injury."

"Suffer injury?" Zhang Rongfang recalled the theories of exercise science from his Previous Life. Thanks to the explosion of information, though he had not been someone who exercised regularly, he had still seen such claims in all sorts of miscellaneous articles.

"Yes. After being injured, the human body wants to repair and heal that wound. And in order to avoid the same spot being injured again next time, the body adds a little more repair there."

Zhang Xuan explained it in plain, easy-to-understand terms.

"So the original circle develops a bump because of the injury."

He drew a protrusion where the circle had broken.

"When you have more bumps, the whole circle grows larger. Then you have truly surpassed the limit."

Before long, under the spoon's smearing and tracing, the original circle had visibly grown a full size larger than before.

The many bumps around it all linked together, becoming a larger circle.

"That's how it works."

Zhang Xuan stopped his spoon and looked up at Zhang Rongfang.

"That is why Martial Cultivators generally decline rapidly once they reach forty, unless they belong to sects like ours, with Wen Xiu health-nurturing arts. Because practicing martial arts is itself a process of being injured again and again, then healing."

"I understand." Zhang Rongfang nodded. He recalled running in his Previous Life.

When he ran to his limit, so long as he persevered and broke through one threshold, he would feel a little lighter and could run a bit farther.

Was that not the same principle as Breaking Limits? One kept surpassing the limit, and after doing it enough times, that state became fixed and turned into the norm.

That was what Breaking Limits meant. "So? When do you think you will Enter the Ranks?" Zhang Xuan asked. He began slicing the peeled apple into pieces, arranging them like a flower on the wooden tray.

"Then your disciple should have already Entered the Ranks," Zhang Rongfang answered.

Entering the Ranks at this time should not be too abrupt.

"Uh..." Zhang Xuan raised his head in astonishment, and the apple slices in his hand were instantly set crooked. "First Grade in one year and two months. Not bad!"

He slapped Zhang Rongfang on the shoulder.

"Not bad, not bad. You really are something, kid." Zhang Xuan revealed a satisfied smile.

In these times, the lurking plan was proceeding smoothly, his son was engaged, and the in-laws were good people. His disciple was promising too, Entering the Ranks in just over a year.

These little days were truly becoming more and more hopeful.

"Since you've Entered the Ranks, as your Master, I ought to give you a reward. Seeing how your body has changed so noticeably lately, I guessed you were close. I didn't expect it to be even earlier than I calculated."

He stood up.

"Come with me."

"Uh... Master, what about this apple?" Zhang Rongfang looked at the arranged apple. What was the point of cutting it if no one was going to eat it? "Don't touch it! That isn't for eating now." Zhang Xuan hurriedly turned around and raised a hand.

"But Master, if we don't eat it now, it'll turn brown in a while. When are you planning to eat it?" Zhang Rongfang blinked.

"When?" Zhang Xuan lowered his hand. "I haven't thought about it. Don't you think this apple flower is perfectly whole? Can you bear to ruin such a perfect formation?"

"..."

Zhang Rongfang had no answer.

"You can't just not eat it, can you?" He could not understand what kind of logic his Master was using.

"It's not that I won't eat it." Zhang Xuan said blandly, "When fate arrives, I will naturally eat it."

"..."

Zhang Rongfang felt that when he had visited before, Master had not been this severe. Why was it getting worse lately? Did Senior Brother know? "Come with me." Zhang Xuan said no more and turned to leave the room, heading toward a corner of the second floor.

Zhang Rongfang hurried after him.

The two slowly came before an Iron Door secured with a large lock.

Zhang Xuan unlocked it and entered.

Inside stood wooden crates half a man tall. Dozens of crates were stacked layer upon layer against the walls, nearly filling the entire floor.

After entering, Zhang Xuan hopped between the crates and searched for a while.

"Didn't you say before that you were worried about encountering a weapon expert and being unable to beat them barehanded?" Zhang Xuan soon stopped before one crate, bent down, pressed a hand on its lid, and flipped it upward.

Crack, crack.

Two snapping sounds rang out as something broke. The crate lid fell to the floor, completely detached. "So I tidied up the house and found this old thing."

Zhang Xuan reached into the crate, grabbed something, and pulled it out.

Clang! A metallic screech exploded through the room.

A gray-black Round Wheel as long and wide as an arm appeared in his hand.

The edge of the Round Wheel was sharp, lined with serrated Blade Edges, while a gripping handle sat within its center. It was entirely metal.

Judging by its thickness, it was as thick as a baby's fist.

"This was a weapon used by an old friend of mine. Don't worry, our Great Dao Sect has the privilege of carrying weapons."

Zhang Xuan held it in one hand and walked before Zhang Rongfang.

"Since you have Entered the Ranks, I will give this weapon to you as the first gift from your Master after accepting you as a Disciple."

He held the wheel in both hands and presented it flat before Zhang Rongfang.

Zhang Rongfang reached out, gripped the handle inside the Round Wheel, and examined it closely.

The Blade Edges around the wheel showed obvious signs of wear. Faint engraved patterns and words could be seen on its body, but they had been worn down too badly to make out their meaning.

The handle, however, was wrapped with fine anti-slip cord and leather.

As he accepted it, Zhang Rongfang felt his hand sink.

The wheel was even heavier than he had imagined, at least twenty pounds.

"What is it called?"

"I didn't use it, so how would I know? This wheel is meant to be used with the Wheel of Wishes Art. That's why I kept it," Zhang Xuan said casually.

Zhang Rongfang raised it one-handed before his eyes, touching every detail of the Round Wheel inch by inch.

The wheel did not seem to be forged from pure iron. Other metals had been mixed into it, and beneath its black surface lingered a trace of bronze.

Soon, on the inside of the wheel near the handle, he felt two characters: Xiangjian.

"Then let it be called Xiangjian." Zhang Rongfang gave it a light swing. The sharp serrated Blade Edges brought forth a faint whistle through the air.

One could imagine how much damage it would inflict when it sliced across an enemy's body.

"It really does seem to be called Xiangjian." Zhang Xuan nodded at the side. "Also, as for the corresponding Wheel of Wishes Art, I'll teach you when I have time."

"Master, didn't you say that only a few people in all of Qinghe Temple knew it?"

"Did I ever tell you that I am one of those few people?" Zhang Xuan gave a cold laugh and stroked his beard.

"Please instruct me, Master." Zhang Rongfang cupped his fists.

"Let's go. Since you're in such a hurry, we'll first see whether your current strength is enough for you to wield it."

The two went downstairs, changed their shoes, and headed into the Backyard.

Zhang Xuan took the Round Wheel and gave it several light swings.

"When I first got this wheel, I also thought about trying it out. But without enough strength, casually swinging something over twenty pounds in one's hand is not something an ordinary person can manage.

I could do it too, but I would tire far too easily. It wasn't worth it."

He raised the Round Wheel and gave it a light spin. The wheel immediately began whirling rapidly.

The serrated Blade Edges along its rim also became dangerous cutting mouths beneath that rapid rotation.

"This weapon was created for Protecting the Dao of our Great Dao Sect. Its proper name should be the Wish Wheel.

"Because its design is too cruel, in order to prevent this weapon from being abused, everyone who learns the Wheel of Wishes Art must make a wish of their own upon receiving their weapon, then engrave it upon the wheel.

"This shows that they are not people who slaughter the innocent wantonly, but are forced to use this weapon for the wish in their hearts."

"Now, if you wish to learn the Wheel of Wishes Art, then answer me this: What is your wish? What do you wish to learn it for?"

Under the sunlight, Zhang Xuan's expression became solemn as he looked at Zhang Rongfang.

"My wish..." Zhang Rongfang paused.

"I just..." He raised his head. "...do not want anyone to be hurt because of me."

That also included himself.

"Then it should not be called Xiangjian." Zhang Xuan narrowed his eyes.

"It should be called Leaving Injury."