Both men were weighed down with worries, and neither slept soundly. The next morning, when a servant brought their cornmeal buns, they both sprang out of bed like coiled springs at the very first knock. Then they each collected themselves and exchanged a glance. Zhao Changhe smiled. "Morning."
Luo Qi ignored him, immediately lowering his head to check his body. The blanket was still wrapped tightly around him. He breathed a soft sigh of relief and said nothing.
Zhao Changhe could not be bothered with him either. He hopped out of bed to open the door and brought in the buns, only to see Luo Qi sitting on the edge of the bed, gathering up his slightly mussed hair.
That pose... even without trying, he was alluring.
Zhao Changhe's heart suddenly skipped a beat. He turned his head and dragged out another subject. "Fuck, I haven't brushed my teeth again. I can't get used to anything here."
Luo Qi said lazily, "For someone from the countryside, you talk like you're from a rich household. You even know about brushing your teeth with willow twigs?"
Chewing on a bun, Zhao Changhe shot him a sideways look. "And you know all about it, huh? Willow twigs and all. Aren't you just a household-born servant... uh, sorry."
"What's there to apologize for? Haven't you offended me enough times with that loose tongue of yours? I call you a country bumpkin, you call me a household-born servant. We're even." Luo Qi rolled his eyes at him. "I'm off. Go practice your arts. I still have to slave away getting meat for you lot."
"Uh, about what we discussed last night..."
Luo Qi reached the doorway and looked back with a smile. "Your idea was too naive. I doubt it'll work. But... I'll think of something else. We'll see."
That backward glance and smile actually carried a little electric charge, but Zhao Changhe seemed utterly oblivious. He nodded. "There's always a way."
He was such a straight man that even Luo Qi failed to notice the feminine charm he was increasingly letting slip without thinking. Taking his buns, Luo Qi left on his assignment.
In truth, Zhao Changhe was simply making a point of not looking.
Man or woman, all they'll do is slow down my training.
Once Luo Qi left, he headed straight to the Martial Arts Ground again. The original plan had been to practice the Blood Baleful Art in the mornings and saber techniques in the afternoons, but he felt he was also circulating the Blood Baleful Art while practicing with his saber. His progress in the art seemed a little too fast as a result. Unsure whether something was wrong, he decided to consult Instructor Sun.
"Fast? How far have you gotten? Channel your strength according to the Blood Baleful Art and throw a punch at me." Instructor Sun sounded unconcerned.
Zhao Changhe asked cautiously, "With all my strength?"
"Of course with all your strength." Instructor Sun rolled his eyes. "You think you could actually hurt me?"
Zhao Changhe thought that made sense. He sank into a horse stance and drew his fist back to his waist.
The circulation of blood and vital energy from the Blood Baleful Art surged through his body. Zhao Changhe could feel his muscles brimming with power, savage and vicious.
With a "Hah!", Zhao Changhe unleashed a heavy punch with all his strength.
He could not tell whether he was imagining it, but as his fist shot out, everything before his eyes seemed to turn red...
Instructor Sun casually raised a hand to block. Zhao Changhe felt an immense, unfathomable force surge toward him, sending him stumbling back several steps before he barely regained his footing. That feeling of brimming strength vanished in an instant, along with the illusion of blood-red vision, as though the blow had knocked all the vigor out of him.
A little impressed, Zhao Changhe offered an ingratiating smile. "An instructor really is an instructor."
With his hands behind his back, Instructor Sun said evenly, "Your progress... is indeed a little fast. But there's no particularly unusual reason for it. Your comprehension is decent, and more importantly, your constitution is excellent. Your blood and vital energy are extraordinarily abundant, making you almost too well suited to the Blood Baleful Art. How strange. Where did a poor villager like you get such good nourishment? How did you develop a physique like this?"
He did not let Zhao Changhe see that the hand behind his back was actually trembling a little.
I was too careless. I blocked him casually, never expecting this fellow to hit that hard... this is ridiculous.
Zhao Changhe thought that, when it came to nourishment, even their cult leader might not eat as well as an ordinary modern office worker. Besides, he was someone who enjoyed exercise, and his constitution was better than that of the average fellow student. Come to think of it, those "Eyes Behind the Head" had not been much use so far. After all that, was his physical fitness actually his biggest cheat?
"Of course, there's another reason. Your Original Yang is intact, and your essence and vital energy are plentiful. Overflowing, even... a truly hot-blooded young man." It was impossible to tell whether Instructor Sun was praising or mocking him. He looked Zhao Changhe up and down for a long while, but finally could not stop himself from letting one remark slip. "You're nineteen already, aren't you? How pitiful."
"Fuck." Zhao Changhe stiffened his neck. "Does jerking off not count as losing your Original Yang?"
"On the surface, they seem much the same, but in martial theory, they aren't the same thing. Unless you do it too often... fuck, why am I talking to you about this?"
Zhao Changhe: "..."
Instructor Sun's face was expressionless. "As things stand, you're almost at the introductory stage of the Blood Baleful Art. Spend this month refining it properly and try breaking through to the First Layer. Once you get through the First Layer, you should more or less have reached the first Profound Pass as well."
"One Profound Pass in a month?" Zhao Changhe found that a little unbelievable. He remembered how Luo Qi, who had trained since childhood, had been quite proud of reaching the first Profound Pass at sixteen or seventeen. He wondered whether hearing this news would make him cough up blood.
"That's a demonic art for you. You'll learn the price later. Though you're considerably faster than others even among those practicing demonic arts, you're still within the bounds of what can be explained." Instructor Sun said evenly, "All right. Your progress in the cultivation art is indeed far ahead of your saber skills. You mustn't neglect one for the other. The three moves I taught you yesterday, the downward chop, the horizontal slash, and the Turning Slash-how many times did you practice each?"
Zhao Changhe answered honestly, "I set myself a target of a thousand repetitions, but I forgot to keep count as I chopped. I reckon I wasn't far off."
A thousand repetitions, seriously? Instructor Sun's eyes almost bulged, but he forced himself to remain calm and pointed at a wooden post. "See that mark in the middle? Chop right there. Let me see one strike."
Zhao Changhe drew his saber.
Whoosh! Saber light flashed, striking the mark Instructor Sun had indicated. It did not line up perfectly, missing by a hair. Instructor Sun drew a deep breath and muttered, "Thank goodness."
Zhao Changhe said, "It wasn't that good. I think a bit more practice today should do it."
Still being modest? You think I meant your strike was good? I meant thank goodness your talent with the saber is only average, not as heaven-defying as your aptitude for the Blood Baleful Art. Otherwise, this would be too much.
Instructor Sun looked much more relaxed. "Actually, in terms of talent alone, you aren't particularly gifted. In fact, you're only slightly better than mediocre. After all, this is the simplest kind of slash. An ordinary woodcutter could manage it after chopping firewood for a few more days. What true saber genius would still miss the mark after practicing a thousand times? But the point is that you knew you weren't accurate and could keep practicing a thousand times. Most people can't."
Zhao Changhe: "Uh..."
"If you can maintain this habit of practicing a thousand times every day after learning the Blood Baleful Saber Technique, your achievements will exceed my expectations," Instructor Sun said leisurely. "Of course, once most people learn an advanced saber technique and reach the first Profound Pass, they're already fairly important leaders. Then come big bowls of wine, great hunks of meat, and crowds of lusty women. Not many can keep working hard after that. I don't know how you'll fare."
Zhao Changhe could not be sure what he would be like in the future either. Right now, however, he really was taking this seriously, throwing almost his entire heart and soul into it. It was not merely about becoming stronger or finding his way home. He genuinely found enjoyment in this.
It was like playing games back in the day, wiping over and over against a boss yet refusing to give up, still cursing and reluctant to log off when the server went down for maintenance. This felt a little similar. Fuck, I can't hit that spot? I refuse to accept that. Keep chopping. One day, I'll beat this "boss" any damn way I please.
The same went for the Blood Baleful Art. He found pleasure in the process of growing ever stronger, and he also faintly enjoyed the awe of those around him.
On the Martial Arts Ground, Zhao Changhe grew louder and more boisterous, soon becoming one of the crowd.
Without his noticing, the scholarly air of his university days grew ever fainter, while his bandit swagger grew ever stronger.
It had only been a few short days...
A born bandit.
Smack! At dusk, after a full day of practice, Zhao Changhe put away his saber and clapped a bandit beside him hard on the shoulder. "Once we can get out and have some fun, I'll treat all you brothers to drinks!"
The bandit gave an ingratiating smile. "Naturally, we'll be the ones treating you, Boss Zhao. Just the sheer guts it took to stab Luo Zhenwu to death with one strike deserve a toast from everyone."
"Huh? You were there that day too?"
"Of course we weren't, but these past few days we've heard about it from senior brothers in the cult who took part. You're famous in the martial world now, Boss Zhao."
"Hm? Surely that's an exaggeration. One little Luo Family cur dies, a gust blows through the martial world, and who remembers?"
The bandit said conspiratorially, "They say that a dozen or so years ago, the current emperor went on a tour and stayed with the Luo Family along the way. That old turtle Master Luo wanted to suck up to the emperor, so he sent his wife over to entertain the guest..."
Zhao Changhe froze, turning those words over in his mind several times. "Don't tell me you mean..."
The bandit clapped his hands. "Exactly! Luo Zhenwu might have been the emperor's spawn! That's why the Imperial Family took special care of the Luo Family! Just like that day, there was an Imperial Palace Expert hidden among the Luo Family. If the Vermilion Bird Venerable hadn't intervened, how could we have pulled it off... tell me, Boss, can just any family keep an Imperial Palace Expert hidden away?"
Zhao Changhe struggled for a long while before finally squeezing out a single word: "Fuck!"
How strange. The way Master Luo spoke to his son back then didn't seem at all like he was addressing an imperial prince. That was simply his son, wasn't it? Had they gotten it wrong... or had those two grown used to being father and son over all those years?
The bandit said, "Everyone used to say the Luo Family had ties to the Imperial Family, but nobody could explain exactly what those ties were... it wasn't that they didn't understand. It was that nobody dared say it before! But now, we're the Holy Cult. It's this rotten court we rebel against, and this bullshit prince we kill. Why should we keep their secret?"
Zhao Changhe sighed. He had thought this was some deeply guarded secret he could only ask about after joining the cult, yet here it was, unexpectedly laid out before him.
It had indeed been a secret beforehand, but after succeeding, the Blood God Cult would surely want to proclaim it to the whole world.
So that saber strike of his back then seemed... pretty fucking impressive.
"He was only the emperor's bastard. The fame will only last a little while. In a few days, nobody will mention it anymore." Zhao Changhe offered this seemingly modest remark, intending to end the conversation.
Instead, the other man's eyes widened. "Only a bastard? No, Boss, you really don't understand. The Crown Prince is dead. The emperor has no sons left."
Zhao Changhe froze in the middle of turning to leave, eyes wide and tongue tied.
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