Chapter Twenty-Three: Truly Knowing Yourself

It was as if a bomb detonated deep within his heart, sending his blood surging violently, threatening to burst through every vein in his body. Chen Cao, who had been lying flat on his bed, suddenly noticed a chill on his back—a cold sweat had drenched him, and the breeze only intensified the sensation.

“Damn!” he muttered, feeling the turbulence within growing stronger. Goosebumps erupted across his arms like bamboo shoots after the rain. Hurriedly, he sat up cross-legged, striving to relax his body and regulate his breathing.

This was the meditation technique Master Tang Bo had taught him since childhood. Although he’d always dismissed it as a child’s game, a useless trick, there were times when, unable to control his own emotions, Tang Bo would have him practice this sitting meditation. To his surprise, it had always worked rather well. But ever since joining the military, he’d relied on sheer willpower to master his feelings, neglecting the practice entirely.

Gradually, Chen Cao felt his breath grow long and deep, his scattered thoughts slowly drawing together, his mind clearing. He slipped, almost unknowingly, into his own world, a world where only the rhythm of his inhalations and exhalations existed.

Never before had his mind been so lucid. Nation, country, family—these were words he had never truly pondered, words of such weight and depth. Duan Tianya had once said he would see a world he had never seen before. What kind of world would that be? What would await him there?

Breath after breath, Chen Cao realized he had entered a state of profound meditation. He had never reflected in this manner before—a feeling entirely without precedent, unheralded and unique.

It was like dreaming, but in the waking world.

When the first rays of morning pierced his eyelids, Chen Cao stretched lazily. A comfort unlike any he had ever known surged from the soles of his feet to the crown of his head. As he stretched, every joint in his body cracked and popped, every cell seemed to come alive.

The first person he saw upon opening his eyes was Duan Tianya, clad in black, standing silently in a corner, twin swords in hand, gazing quietly at Chen Cao.

Seeing him awake, Duan Tianya lifted his eyelids and asked, “How was your dream?”

By now, Chen Cao was used to Duan Tianya’s uncanny insight, his ability to see through people’s hearts. He replied lazily, “Not bad.”

Duan Tianya smiled faintly, then turned and opened the small window of the room. A rush of fresh air flooded in. Chen Cao couldn’t help but take a deep breath, his lungs feeling newly awakened.

“Let me guess, it wasn’t about the women you’ve courted,” Duan Tianya said, his gaze settled on the emerging red sun at the foot of the distant mountains. “You were thinking about Chen Qingzhi’s sword, Tang Bo’s Bajiquan, and about the connection between Wang Husheng’s feng shui secrets and your world, weren’t you?”

“How do you always know?” Chen Cao muttered helplessly, curling his lip.

“Don’t mistake me for some martial arts master—Baoli likes to think that. I’m just guessing, with the heart of a soldier.” Duan Tianya turned, tossed one of the swords to Chen Cao, and said, “Since you can’t choose, isn’t it time to begin your training?”

Instinctively, Chen Cao caught the sword. “This is a long sword,” he said, puzzled. “My God, you’re not really going to make me become a martial arts master, fighting guns with a sword, are you?”

“Of course not,” Duan Tianya replied. “It’s just a gift. Didn’t you train last night? Now, it’s time for your test.”

Chen Cao leapt from the bed, drawing the sword with a swish—only to find it suddenly light in his hand. What had been a three-foot-long ancient sword was now, hilt included, barely half a foot long—a modified dagger, no more.

“What the...?” He pulled the other sword from its sheath—another dagger, nearly identical in length. Apart from the two ancient characters still etched on the hilts, there was no sign these had ever been long swords.

Though he was used to Duan Tianya’s eccentricities, this left Chen Cao completely dumbfounded.

“Chen Cao, you must understand that to become an outstanding warrior, you have a long road ahead. Having the prerequisites is not enough!” Duan Tianya coughed lightly into a handkerchief, glanced at it quickly, then tucked it away and continued, “An excellent warrior can turn anything, at any time, in any place, into a weapon. The path you and I walk will be different.”

“Alright, enough with the speeches. What’s this test about? You know I’ve never undergone formal training, so you’re setting me up to fail!” Chen Cao played with the two ‘daggers’ in his hands. Oddly enough, he found himself quite attached to these swords turned knives.

“Haven’t you been trained enough? Since you were born, your uncles have been teaching you—Bajiquan, swordplay. When you joined Unit 0611, you might have served as an orderly, but on the training ground and in classes, you soaked up everything. Don’t tell me you don’t know the methods by heart.”

As Duan Tianya spoke, images flooded Chen Cao’s mind like a film—Tang Bo’s Bajiquan, Chen Qingzhi’s sword, the training grounds, the instructors of every subject. So this was it. Sometimes, listening from the sidelines left a deeper mark than direct study—self-doubt could sear lessons into the soul.

As Chen Cao pondered this, Duan Tianya had already stepped outside, his voice lingering in the air: “Come on, Chen Cao, it’s time. Go unleash the lion inside you, let out the emotions you’ve suppressed for so long. To truly know yourself, you must give everything.”

“Damn it!” Chen Cao’s thoughts snapped back. He couldn’t help but curse: “Can’t you at least tell me what I’m being tested on?”

As he spoke, he grabbed the two daggers and stepped outside. Duan Tianya’s military vehicle was already waiting in the open space. The window rolled down, revealing Duan Tianya’s face. “You’ll find out once you reach the jungle. There’s still time—go, and get to know the self you’ve been yearning for.”

With that, Duan Tianya rolled up the window and told the driver, “Let’s go.”

At the command, the driver wasted no time. The engine roared to life, leaving Chen Cao standing in a cloud of exhaust.

“What the hell? Still keeping me in the dark,” Chen Cao grumbled. But recalling Duan Tianya’s words, the restless energy in his heart surged anew. That line about rediscovering himself nagged at him. Gazing at the nearby jungle, he smiled faintly and murmured to himself, “Maybe it’s time to have some fun.” With that, he sprinted toward the forest.

. . .

Cao Yehu stood with binoculars, gazing at the open valley not far off. Behind him stood a group of instructors, while Guo Qianshuang sat at a field table, her attention fixed on a military-green laptop.

When Duan Tianya’s car pulled in with a rumble, he stepped out unhurriedly. All the instructors except Qiu Yu snapped to attention, giving him a crisp military salute.

Duan Tianya waved it off and walked straight to Cao Yehu’s side, who was peering through binoculars at the distant valley.

“He must have gone in by now,” Cao Yehu muttered, still watching.

Instead of replying directly, Duan Tianya asked, “How’s the progress?”

“Not bad. They’re giving it their all. We’ve already eliminated a few, but the contest continues.” Cao Yehu set down his binoculars and smiled faintly at his old comrade—clearly, he was in good spirits today.

Duan Tianya pulled out a pocket watch, snapped it open, checked the time, and said, “So, he should make it in time to face the strong.”

“That’s not certain. Since we’ve already used the ‘medicine’, let’s make the dose even stronger,” Cao Yehu replied, patting the stars on his shoulder with a sly grin.

“Oh?” Duan Tianya looked at him.

“Old Duan, do you know about dog fighting? It’s an old aristocratic pastime. The rule is, the winner gets food, the loser starves and suffers the master’s scorn and abuse. Can you imagine the despair of a hungry dog? But if you give it one more chance, won’t it fight with everything it has?”

Cao Yehu looked at Duan Tianya, smiling slightly. “It’s the same with these eliminated trainees. They’re not lacking in quality, and they all have honor in their hearts. If given another chance, how do you think they’ll perform?”

“They’ll unleash a hundred times their usual potential,” Duan Tianya replied, his eyes glinting as he suddenly laughed. “When it comes to cunning, I’m still no match for you.”

Cao Yehu exchanged a look with Qiu Yu, then turned away. “Not necessarily—compared to the Chen brothers, Chen Fusheng and Chen Fugui, we’re still lacking.”

. . .

Chen Cao sprinted forward. In the distance, he heard gunshots. Drawing on what he’d overheard at the shooting range, he recognized the sound—a Mauser rifle. He smiled, “Good choice. At long range, these old weapons excel. They’re light, easy to conceal, and their firing and reaction time can beat even the most advanced, precision sniper rifles by a fraction of a second—at least, in the hands of a master.”

With that, he slipped into the forest. Armed with only two seemingly ornamental daggers, he had no intention of foolishly facing guns with blades, no matter how many years of sword training he had. Nor did he want to be eliminated the moment he entered.

Once inside, he quickly found a small, pale green tree frog. Popping it into his mouth, he chewed. These thumb-sized frogs secreted a green collagen—perfect for camouflage, as he’d learned from his literature teacher, who never watered down such lessons, even for auditing students like him.

It didn’t taste great—like soap mixed with disinfectant.

. . .