Saber techniques

Early the next morning, Zhao Changhe stared speechlessly at the steamed cornmeal buns a servant had brought over, then complained resentfully, "This is breakfast? Even the inns on the road served better food."

Luo Qi hesitated. After all that nonsense last night, this guy had gone back to practicing bow and horse stances for another hour, only sleeping once he was utterly exhausted. The moment he put his head down on the table, he started snoring, keeping Luo Qi awake all night too.

Still, his dedication was genuinely commendable.

Luo Qi did not know whether to mock him for overestimating himself or encourage him. Quietly chewing his bun, he said, "It's the dead of winter. You're lucky to have anything to eat. We even had chicken legs last night. Do you know how many people were drooling over those?"

Zhao Changhe understood. Whether this was a world of martial might or one where scholarship stood above all else, it was still modeled on ancient society. With ancient levels of production, even landlords might not have meat at every meal, much less in these "troubled times," when countless people went hungry. Having enough to fill his belly first thing in the morning was already fairly decent...

That thought left him a little worried. The Blood Baleful Art's demands on the body's nutrition were no joke. Cornmeal buns would not cut it. He wondered whether there were missions he could take to earn food.

Would I have to go rob people too?

The buns were not the only thing he struggled to adjust to. All sorts of other things were inconvenient.

For instance, there was a waterfall behind the Mountain Stronghold, spilling into a pool before branching into streams that ran down the mountain. The scenery was actually quite nice. Servants fetched the daily water supply from there... but nobody would fetch water for you to wash with. That water was for drinking. Who could jump into the pool to bathe in this weather? How was anyone supposed to live like this...

Luo Qi scratched an itch and complained too. "I've never gone this many days without bathing... what a goddamn place. So many people would kill to live as comfortably as we did with the Luo Family, but you had to go and make us wanted criminals."

"Oh, come on," Zhao Changhe said. "Why bring that up again now..."

Luo Qi turned away and ignored him. He knew he was being unreasonable. There was no real justification for blaming Zhao Changhe.

Actually, Zhao Changhe was in the same boat. His comfortable modern life had turned into this shit, so he understood Luo Qi's unreasonable complaints all too well. If that blind person stood before him now, Zhao Changhe reckoned he would slap them across the face.

He had no idea how other bandit chiefs managed to enjoy themselves... but he knew that however they did it, you had to be the chief, not some lowly grunt.

"I'm done arguing. I'm going to practice." Zhao Changhe said no more. Still chewing his bun, he headed straight to the Martial Arts Ground in the stronghold.

As a complete novice who had never encountered martial arts, he could not learn anything just by reading a "secret manual." He needed someone to answer his questions; otherwise, he could not even understand much of the terminology. Luo Qi's methods were entirely different from the Blood God Cult's, so asking him would not help.

As the Sub-Helm master, Fang Buping did not teach here himself. A Teaching Instructor was responsible for instruction, and Zhao Changhe could simply go and learn from him.

There was no snow today. When he reached the Martial Arts Ground, quite a few people were already practicing. Zhao Changhe noticed that they were all training with sabers.

The Teaching Instructor's voice echoed across the grounds. "A saber may be easy to pick up, but that doesn't mean you can just hack and slash at random! Look at this simple turning slash. How many times have I told you? Don't make the movement too wide, or you'll leave openings everywhere and won't recover in time to defend. Zhang Quan! Look at how you're twisting your waist. Do you think you're your mother doing a folk dance?"

Zhao Changhe carefully watched Zhang Quan, whom the Teaching Deacon had pointed out. Zhang Quan turned and slashed with tremendous speed, looking as though he could cut anyone sneaking up behind him clean in two, yet he was getting a thorough tongue-lashing.

The Teaching Instructor snatched the saber from Zhang Quan. "I'll demonstrate one more time. Watch closely!"

He bent his knees slightly, shifted his feet, and twisted his waist. Zhao Changhe saw only a flash of steel before the saber stopped steadily behind him at a ninety-degree angle.

The slash was clearly faster than Zhang Quan's, yet it stopped perfectly steady, without advancing another fraction, as though a wall had blocked its path.

The Teaching Instructor said loudly, "Don't exhaust your strength, and you'll have room to maneuver. With a slash like this, whether or not you achieve the result you intended, you still have strength left and can change your next move!"

So that was it. So that was it.

How had I gotten killed in the dream back then?

Even the simplest martial arts had their subtleties. If he had practiced a move like this back then, even just the fundamentals, perhaps things would have ended differently...

Wasn't learning these things the whole point of "entering the dream"?

After all those twists and turns, I've finally begun... though I've probably long since strayed from what that blind person originally planned. Maybe that's a good thing...

Then Zhang Quan said, "But Instructor, it's not like I meant to use that much strength. You also want us to swing fast, and once I speed up, I can't stop it..."

"You have to practice! Just this one turning slash-how much strength to use, where to stop-practice it a thousand times a day, and you'll learn!" Instructor Sun's voice was still booming. "Besides, did you understand how I coordinated the force from my waist and legs just now? I don't make you hold bow and horse stances because they look pretty!"

"Huh?" Zhang Quan scratched his head. "No, I didn't see it clearly. Could you do it again, Instructor..."

"Hmm?" Instructor Sun glared.

Zhang Quan shrank back with an ingratiating smile.

The other cultists chimed in. "None of us saw it clearly. Show us again, Instructor..."

Instructor Sun shook his head, deeply disappointed. This was not the first time he had explained it. They were all as dull as cattle, forgetting today what they had learned yesterday, yet every one of them had the gall to claim they had not seen it clearly.

He looked around, hoping to find someone who had understood, and immediately spotted Zhao Changhe standing some distance away with a thoughtful expression.

"You there, Zhao Changhe, right?" Instructor Sun called. "What's that look on your face? Did you understand?"

"Oh..." Zhao Changhe came back to himself and stepped forward hesitantly. "Could I have a saber to try?"

Instructor Sun held the saber out, but added, "Head up, chest out! Speak louder! How the fuck are you going to be an outlaw if you talk in that soft little voice? Are you sitting the scholar's examination?"

Zhao Changhe's cheek twitched. "I joined the Demon Cult. Don't some of those people speak in sinister whispers...?"

"Shit, you sure know how to argue! You haven't joined the cult yet. Right now you're just a... never mind." Instructor Sun waved a hand, stopping himself. "Just speak louder. Haven't you eaten?"

Zhao Changhe shouted, "Give me the damn saber and let me try!"

Thoroughly satisfied, Instructor Sun handed it over.

Zhao Changhe: "..."

What kind of person was this?

Taking the saber, he found it damn light, probably only two or three jin... It was an ordinary single saber, like the one he had stabbed Luo Zhenwu to death with, not the broad saber weighing dozens of jin from his dream. He suspected sabers like that did not exist in reality at all.

When swinging the broad saber, he had needed to fling it backward with every ounce of strength he had. There was no way he could control where it stopped, but with this single saber, it seemed possible. Zhao Changhe recalled Instructor Sun's movements, turned in a bow stance, and sent the saber slashing swiftly backward with a swish, trying to stop it where Instructor Sun had. It looked fairly convincing.

Instructor Sun looked a little surprised. "You've got a good grasp of things! With comprehension like that, and such a good physique and natural aptitude, how are you only just starting to learn martial arts? What a pity. What a pity."

Zhao Changhe handed the saber back and cupped his fist. "Please instruct me."

"Your hand isn't steady enough, and your positioning isn't precise enough either. That takes practice... here..." Instructor Sun adjusted Zhao Changhe's hand, guiding it to a particular position. "Remember how this position feels. Get it right, then swing your saber like this every day, as many times as you can. That's how your swings will grow faster and steadier. This is the essence of every martial technique under heaven!"

Zhao Changhe let out a breath and said sincerely, "Thank you, Instructor."

Instructor Sun eyed him sidelong for a while, then suddenly turned and shouted at everyone on the Martial Arts Ground. "What are you all standing around for? Practice! Learn from Zhao Changhe! His first lesson, and he's already doing this well. Aren't you ashamed? If your slashes are still all crooked and misshapen, none of you gets to eat today!"

The whole crowd glared at Zhao Changhe with hostile eyes.

The corner of Zhao Changhe's mouth twitched. The dreaded "learn from so-and-so"-had he offended every classmate on his very first day?