"What?"
Han Yuan was genuinely shocked.
"Soul-Stir usually takes a week to a month, but he did it in one go."
"Then, driving the spiritual qi—Chen Qing succeeded on his very first try with the guidance gun, and the gun was only on setting one!"
"Normally the guidance gun has to be cranked to setting four or five to do anything. Some people even have to lie in a guidance apparatus and run it for several days just to barely learn to drive their qi."
"This talent is terrifying! There's absolutely no way it's only Grade A."
"S, double-S, triple-S—any of them's possible!"
"That..."
"That means he's no longer your student." Han Yuan said helplessly.
In an instant, Wu Kong understood everything.
Mild-mannered as he always was, he too let slip a "holy shit."
"That's so shady of you!"
"Shady my ass!" Han Yuan snapped. "What's the problem? Is there any skill I can't teach him? Any gear I don't have here? Whatever it is, I'll give him quadruple!"
"Besides, he doesn't want to join the Ghost-Slaying Squad anyway—perfect! I'll groom the next captain!"
Wu Kong was speechless.
"He's Grade A, got it? A! AAAAA!"
"..."
Chen Qing opened the necklace and put the Kunwu Saber and gear into the Demon-Suppressing Pagoda.
Then he settled in to focus on running the circulation cycle.
With the guidance gun, it had been like a lighthouse lit in the dark night—just rush everything toward it and be done.
But now it was a tangled chaos again; everything had to be groped out slowly.
Following the acupoint chart, Chen Qing steered his spiritual qi along, bit by bit.
"Chen Qing, I'm home!"
Chen Man called out and pushed the door open.
Seeing Chen Qing practicing, he didn't understand what he was doing, but he didn't ask either.
He ate something on his own, then started his homework.
"Chen Qing, I don't get the first problem."
Chen Qing waved a hand. "Press the bell." And sank back into meditation.
Chen Man pressed the service bell, and the attendant began the agonizing tutoring anew.
Right through dinner, Chen Qing didn't stir.
At nine at night, Chen Man yawned.
Chen Qing's eyes suddenly snapped open!
"Haha! Cleared it!"
The first circulation cycle—complete!
"Good night, Chen Qing." Chen Man brushed his teeth and was soon fast asleep.
Chen Qing hurriedly ate, then began running the cycle again.
This time it was noticeably faster; when he finished the second loop the room was pitch dark, the hour unknown.
So Chen Qing tried starting on the second "circulation cycle."
The acupoints of the second cycle were harder to find, its route more intricate.
His pace slowed dramatically.
Right up until Chen Man ate breakfast and left, Chen Qing was still in cultivation.
It seemed to have a restorative effect on the spirit; a whole night through, and he wasn't tired.
When he opened his eyes again, it was already time for Chen Man to come home from school.
"No wonder secluded cultivation runs to years at a stretch. Time really does fly."
Just as he and Chen Man were eating dinner, the hotel doorbell rang.
Chen Man opened it, and a woman's voice—somewhat familiar, somewhat strange—rang out.
"Ah! Chen Man, you've grown so big, and more adorable by the day!"
Three people walked in.
A middle-aged woman, a case of milk in one hand and a bag of fruit in the other—rather thin, with narrow eyes and heavy lipstick.
A middle-aged man in official-looking attire, big heavy belly, leather gleaming.
And a girl about Chen Qing's age, chewing gum, with her mother's same narrow eyes.
Chen Qing's brow furrowed.
The middle-aged woman was Chen Qing's aunt, Huang Xue. His uncle-in-law, Hong Jian. His cousin, Hong Ya.
They also lived in Riverside Community, and were Chen Qing's only relatives now, though they'd cut ties six or seven years ago.
At Chen Qing's hardest, when the food ran out, he'd gone to beg them.
Chen Qing would never forget it: himself at thirteen, showing up at their door in the bitter winter, just to borrow 200 yuan. Two hundred—what was 200 to a household with two working incomes?
Yet that 200 could have saved him and Chen Man.
He'd worked so hard to please them, using the most abject tone and posture.
And what had he gotten in return?
His aunt sighed and moaned, even dug up a few rotten apples from somewhere to cry poor.
But the plate under the apples was plainly solid silver!
As Chen Qing walked out, soul crushed, he sat in the doorway a good while—and heard the laughter he'd remember all his life:
"That cheap bitch had it in for me from the time we were little, better than me at every single thing, hahahaha—look! Now her cheap little spawn has come begging at my door!"
How piercing it had been!
Chen Qing had never imagined that relatives close as blood would watch him thrash in the mire with a smile on their faces.
It was that lonely, widowed old blind man who'd pulled him out instead.
From his grubby pocket, he'd fished a fistful of grubby small change and saved him and Chen Man—that cold, cold winter.
From then on, though they lived in the same community, Chen Qing never dealt with them again.
Even passing each other, he never greeted them.
"Ah! Chen Qing, you've grown into such a handsome young man! Auntie hardly recognizes you!"
As she spoke, she sized up her surroundings.
Huang Xue sat herself down and sighed. "Your mom and dad passed so early, leaving you two all alone. Every time I think of it, my heart just aches so..."
Saying this, her eyes even reddened.
Chen Qing had stayed silent all along, but in that moment his eyelid gave a hard twitch.
A nameless fire rushed straight up to his forehead.
Her heart ached?!
We live in the same community! Seven years! Did you ever once come to see us?
Getting to her point, Huang Xue's tone turned reproachful: "You go and check out of this room today! Young as you are, no sense of thrift at all."
"Two hundred yuan used to be a star in the sky to me; now 5,000 a night is chump change in my eyes."
Chen Qing stared straight into Huang Xue's eyes. "Auntie, this milk and fruit you brought today—is it even worth 200 yuan?"
Huang Xue's face flickered awkwardly, and she forced a smile. "What are you talking about, child!"
"Heh! Nitpicking over ancient history." Hong Ya rolled her eyes at Chen Qing, chewing her gum. "It's just 200. You're going to hold it against us your whole life? Do you have to be such a cringe little turnoff?"
Chen Qing's eyelid twitched faintly.
His hand went of its own accord to the necklace.
Seeing Chen Qing's mood turning wrong, Hong Jian waved a hand and looked at Hong Ya. "That's enough."
"It's not that we didn't want to visit; these past years there's just been so much going on. I've been busy, your auntie's been busy."
He mused a couple of lines, then nudged the milk and fruit bag forward. "But here we are visiting now, aren't we? This is fine milk, fresh fruit."
Right on cue, Chen Man brought over a big platter of fruit, munching as he watched cartoons; every time he came to a durian he'd frown, pluck it up, and toss it in the nearby trash can.
Hong Jian's face turned a little awkward.
Chen Qing didn't spare the fruit so much as a glance. "My palate's gotten picky these past years—generally won't touch fruit under 200 a piece. Just say it plainly: what did you come for?"
"Here's the thing, Little Qing," Huang Xue began.
"Call me Chen Qing!" Chen Qing frowned. "Not just anyone gets to call me Little Qing."
"What kind of way is that to talk! This is my mother! Your elder!" Hong Ya bristled, eyes fixed on Chen Qing. "You cringe little worm, watch your mouth!"
"All right, all right!" Hong Jian cut in with a frown.
Then said slowly:
"Yesterday we heard from Chenkun that your talent tested Grade S."
"Little Ya didn't do well on hers—she got a C. I've got someone on the inside; you two swap."
"You're joining the Ghost-Control Army anyway, aren't you? The Ghost-Control Army doesn't need talent that high..."
"And we won't let you help for nothing!"
Hong Jian solemnly produced a wad of red bills: "This is 10,000. Once the grades are swapped, I'll give you another 5,000!"