Chapter 40: Choosing Sides

Just as Zhuang Jin broke through and Xiong Lei and the others gathered around to offer their congratulations, on the other side, Xiang Qichen watched Zhuang Jin surrounded by the crowd, then glanced at himself standing all alone, and felt the sting of neglect. He recalled how Qian Wende used to call him “Boss” at every turn, but just now had addressed him as “Brother Xiang.”

“So what if Zhuang Jin broke through? They’re only flattering him, kissing up to him, even pooling money for a celebration. Isn’t it just last month that they couldn’t pay for a meal and I had to cover the bill? Weren’t they all calling me ‘Boss’ then?”

“And another thing—” Xiang Qichen looked at Xiong Lei, Jiao Kun and the others clustering around Zhuang Jin, and felt as if they were mocking him: “So what if you, Xiang Qichen, were the first to become a formal martial artist? Zhuang Jin’s the first to break through to the second meridian now!”

“Can you keep it down? How’s anyone supposed to practice with all this noise?” Xiang Qichen suddenly exploded, and the lively atmosphere instantly turned silent. Everyone looked over, baffled by his outburst.

Seeing their confused expressions, Xiang Qichen realized his eruption was unwarranted, but he couldn’t possibly voice his true thoughts. Embarrassed and at a loss, he said nothing more and turned to head back into the quiet room. Yet his departing figure seemed, in every way, somewhat disheveled and defeated.

“What’s wrong with the Boss?” Xiong Lei scratched his head.

“Who knows?” Qian Wende replied with a grin, but his eyes narrowed just a little.

Jiao Kun was easygoing and rarely concerned with such matters, merely watching for novelty and not thinking deeply about it. Wu Hao, earnest and diligent but a bit slow, was equally puzzled.

Only Lin Hong and Bi Kai reacted differently. Lin Hong seemed thoughtful, while Bi Kai found the scene eerily familiar and subconsciously rubbed his neck, where it still faintly ached.

Zhuang Jin glanced at Xiang Qichen’s retreating back, his brow furrowing briefly before understanding dawned.

Xiang Qichen, when no one surpassed him and he considered himself the most gifted, always appeared magnanimous, if a bit condescending. But when those around him overtook him, when he realized he was no longer number one and that his source of pride was nothing more than a joke, he couldn’t maintain his sense of superiority. That sense of imbalance twisted into jealousy.

“To think that simply being the first to break through the second meridian would shake Xiang Qichen so badly.” In truth, if not for the possibility of earning an extra monthly stipend, Zhuang Jin might never have revealed his advancement so soon.

“No matter. As I’ve always said, I won’t deliberately do anything nor deliberately refrain; I’ll simply act according to my own rhythm, weighing my own interests… As for Xiang Qichen, we were never truly of the same kind. Why should I care?”

“One thing, though—taking Bi Kai’s lesson to heart, I must be more cautious these days.”

Now that Zhuang Jin had reached the second meridian, as long as he remained alert, there was no way the incident with Wang Rui and Bi Kai would repeat itself. The old sayings—‘every meridian is a new mountain to climb’, ‘first the realm, then the technique’—were no joke.

Having reached the second meridian, Zhuang Jin now truly understood the chasm separating one realm from the next. Put simply: as long as no one else in the dormitory broke through the second meridian, even if someone had mastered the Black Fiend Palm, even if they all ganged up on him, as long as the terrain wasn’t unusually tight or constrained, he could, relying on the more powerful and refined internal energy, with its enhancements and boosts, and with his vastly superior reaction speed and strength, pick them off one by one as though he were flying a kite.

“If no one troubles me, I won’t go out of my way to cause trouble. But if someone really can’t let things go and tries something, then they can’t blame me for being ruthless,” he thought, his eyes deep and cold.

Zhuang Jin’s breakthrough spurred the others in the dormitory, creating a sense of urgency in everyone’s hearts. That afternoon, they were all noticeably more diligent—even Jiao Kun, usually indifferent, made an effort, though the effect on him was limited at best.

But the most affected was Xiang Qichen, who didn’t even join them for dinner. According to Lin Hong, he left ahead of everyone and didn’t respond when called.

During the evening’s extra training, Qian Wende went straight to join Zhuang Jin and the others. Xiong Lei, as usual, went back to rest before heading out. Jiao Kun, for his part, had never taken to extra evening practice. Strangely, Xiang Qichen didn’t show up at the training ground after resting either.

Zhuang Jin, Bi Kai, Wu Hao, and lately Lin Hong, who had begun practicing with them, all kept to their usual routine.

That night, when Zhuang Jin and the others returned from the training ground, they found Xiang Qichen and Jiao Kun back in the dorm, their table set with small dishes and cheap liquor, drinking and chatting.

Xiang Qichen, clearly tipsy, was complaining, “Back in our martial apprentice days, who was Zhuang Jin? He was nothing! We were in the same training hall, and I was the first to master my blood and energy! The first to become a full martial artist—me! And who did Ping Yongfeng value most? Me! Xiang Qichen!”

“Brother Xiang, Zhuang Jin and the others are back,” Jiao Kun said softly, not having drunk much himself and feeling awkward as he saw them enter.

“Brother Xiang? Call me Boss! Don’t imitate that lackey Qian Wende—has he no conscience?” Xiang Qichen retorted, then added, “So what if they’re back? Even if Zhuang Jin’s standing right here, I’d say the same!”

He took another swig, turned toward the doorway, and shouted, “Zhuang Jin, just talking about you! Come have a drink with me!”

“No, thanks,” Zhuang Jin replied coolly, glancing at Xiang Qichen before turning away.

“Don’t even dare to drink? Acting like a woman—pathetic.” Half drunk, Xiang Qichen spat out the insult.

Zhuang Jin’s steps halted.

“Enough, Boss, you’ve had enough for tonight!” Jiao Kun said, mortified to be hearing such words in front of everyone. He tried to smooth things over, explaining that Xiang Qichen was drunk, hoping to appease Zhuang Jin.

“I’m not drunk!” Xiang Qichen waved him off, unconvinced. “Kun, you were in a different training hall back then, you wouldn’t know! I was in the same hall as Zhuang Jin, I know!”

“You know what that kid was before he came here? A beggar! Ha! A beggar, you hear me? There’s no raising someone like that…”

Zhuang Jin’s expression turned icy as he was about to step forward, but someone moved faster.

Smack!

Qian Wende’s palm landed hard on Xiang Qichen’s cheek. “Xiang Qichen, I misjudged you. How could you say that about Brother Zhuang?!”

Xiang Qichen was stunned, instinctively clutching his face.

The others were equally shocked, staring at Qian Wende. After all, until today, Qian Wende had called Xiang Qichen “Boss” at every turn, always friendly, almost like a lackey, and hadn’t gotten along well with Zhuang Jin at all. In fact, they’d once quarreled over bunk assignments—mediated by Xiang Qichen, no less.

No one could have predicted that Qian Wende would now defend Zhuang Jin so forcefully.

Zhuang Jin had seen through Qian Wende’s motives earlier that afternoon: he simply deemed Zhuang Jin to have more potential than Xiang Qichen, more worth investing in and befriending. Since Zhuang Jin didn’t particularly welcome him, even turning down the offer to celebrate together, Qian Wende seized this chance to use Xiang Qichen as a stepping stone to demonstrate loyalty and pick his side.

Everyone knows: choosing sides is always the quickest way to close the distance.