Chaotic World Book

Zhao Changhe, having left the crowd, turned a corner and quickly leaned against the wall, gasping for breath, his body feeling drained.

The Blood Evil Skill was truly ferocious; not only was the speed of that strike astounding, but also the strength it provided. Several people tried to pull him away afterward and couldn't budge him; this strength was a bit outrageous. And he had only practiced it for one night and a morning...

But there were indeed serious problems. He felt somewhat drained after just a short while. He wondered whether it was a side effect of overexerting his vital blood and energy, or whether it was because he felt guilty at the moment.

He had certainly put on a show, and the energy had been released, but Zhang Quan—was he dead or not? Engaging in in-fighting as a newcomer, what kind of punishment would he face?

However, in that moment of heated blood, who the hell cares about that... Maybe this was one of the consequences of practicing Blood Evil Skill? Or was it that he already had such a ferocity within him?

"Regrets?" Son Jiaoxi's voice suddenly came from around the corner.

Zhao Changhe turned his head and saw Son Jiaoxi, arms folded, leaning against a wall not far away, looking at him with a mocking smile.

Zhao Changhe did have respect for Son Jiaoxi. He lowered his head and said, "I have nothing to regret. Whatever the punishment, I accept it. If I don't fight for my standing, will I end up meekly letting others take my meals? I can't live such a pathetic life."

"Ha..." Son Jiaoxi interrupted, "The killer, Zhao Changhe! I knew you had it in you, there's no need to say it. What I'm asking is, do you regret practicing the Blood Evil Skill? That feeling of your reason being influenced."

"Uh..." So it really was the influence of the magic skill, and not that he was naturally this brutal. Zhao Changhe felt greatly relieved and answered, "For the time being, I have no regrets. It's a pretty badass magic skill, and I have no time to consider anything else. Speaking of which, does this mean, Teacher Son, that Zhang Quan..."

"Dead," Son Jiaoxi said, quite indifferently, "He dared to compete for the meat I arranged? He provoked first and got killed afterward; stupid and weak, deserving of death."

Zhao Changhe knew that most likely Son Jiaoxi had covered for him. He said with a humble demeanor, "Thank you, Teacher Son..."

"Cut that cultured scholar act," Son Jiaoxi swore, "Are you fucking here to take the Scholar exam?"

Zhao Changhe: "?"

So saying thank you is also wrong?

"Just now, you started off speaking softly with Zhang Quan—was that any use? Now, who doesn't fear you a little? That's how respect is earned!" Son Jiaoxi sneered, "I was there when you killed Luo Zhenwu. I saw your boldness and knew you had the making of a natural bandit, which is why I gave you a few more pointers. To survive in the Worldly Society without tarnishing the prestige of our Holy Sect! Or did you think I took a special liking to you because you have a tender butt?"

A natural bandit... Zhao Changhe was somewhat speechless.

Indeed, there was no love or hatred without reason. There were always two sides to everything. The matter of killing Luo Zhenwu, while the squad leader disliked it, Son Jiaoxi actually appreciated it.

The civility of modern society really didn't fit in with this world, especially not in a den of bandits like this. Even though he was already a fairly tough person, and "having killed people in dreams" was a frequent occurrence, he had long grown accustomed to the feeling of taking a life. If a more normal classmate came here, he really wouldn't know how they could cope.

After thinking for a while, Zhao Changhe asked, "This is still our own base. Some things must be done with a sense of propriety, right?... If everyone acted like today..."

Son Jiaoxi coldly stared at him for a long time, "You are already in the Worldly Society."

Having said that, he turned and left, "In one hour, come find me to learn saber techniques. Every morning you'll practice cultivation, in the afternoon learn the saber, and in the evening you'll take care of your own business."

Zhao Changhe watched his retreating back and pursed his lips without saying a word.

This is not the Worldly Society I wanted.

......

An hour later, Zhao Changhe appeared on time at the Martial Arts Arena.

Son Jiaoxi looked at him with amusement. The kid had looked worn out and had not eaten, looking like a frostbitten eggplant earlier, but now he was full of vigor.

He had a little report. He knew what Zhao Changhe had done in the past hour.

The guy had gone and beaten up all of Zhang Quan's buddies, taken their food and eaten three large bowls of it—more than his own portion—then contentedly went and had a nap.

A polite young fellow who had thought about maintaining harmony within had swiftly begun transforming into a fierce bandit.

In the Worldly Society, it was like this. No matter who is thrown into the ink vat, they will ultimately become as black as the ink.

Son Jiaoxi couldn't help but feel a bit of a sigh, "Come here, let's start by learning the basic saber techniques with everyone."

Zhao Changhe still habitually lined up, honestly walking to the back of the queue to listen to the lecture.

As a result, when people saw him approaching, they all shuddered, subconsciously parting to create a path for him, as if respectfully taking him to the front row. With a sneer, Zhao Changhe didn't hesitate to stride forward, directly standing face-to-face with Teacher Sun, only then did everyone earnestly reassemble into line.

Teacher Sun's eyes seemed to twinkle with mirth, he made no comment but proceeded directly with the lesson, "Among all weapons, the saber has relatively the fewest basic movements—chopping, slashing, and scooping. All variations adhere to this principle, and even the most advanced saber technique cannot escape this pattern. Your foundational skills determine your future limit, how fast, precise, and stable you can be, depending entirely on how solid your foundation is. This isn't something that any top-level magic skill can teach you."

"Just like the returning slash we practiced this morning, any saber technique deployed against an enemy behind you is simply a variation of this basic slash, whether it emphasizes energy transfer, changing angles, or setting up different follow-throughs. These are the unique subtleties of different sects. But how steady and precise your slashes are still depends on your foundational skills today. On the other hand, once the basics are mastered, no matter what saber technique you acquire in the future, you can quickly grasp its essence and turn it into your own."

"Many say our Demon Skill enables rapid success... but rapid success doesn't apply here, there are no shortcuts to foundational skills!"

Teacher Sun's gaze swept across the crowd, noting that most harbored disappointment in their eyes. Who wouldn't want a shortcut to mastering Demon Skill? But then they're told to practice daily basics, how different is that from any other sect...

Only a few individuals had sparkling eyes that seemed to take his words to heart.

Zhao Changhe was among them.

With a smile, Teacher Sun continued, "Now let's go through the vertical chop and horizontal slash again. Don't think these are moves any child with a saber can play around with... like the returning slash, there's a method to it. Watch carefully!"

Zhao Changhe watched Teacher Sun's deliberately slowed movements without blinking, subconsciously mimicking with his hands, he felt he'd never been this focused in his whole life... Had he been this dedicated back then, perhaps he would have made it into Qingbei.

A born bandit?

Perhaps.

The scar on his face reminded him that in this world, it mattered more than Qingbei.

An afternoon passed quickly, and as dusk fell, Zhao Changhe sat exhaustedly on a stone at the edge of the martial arts arena, massaging his arms, which were sore and out of shape. The Blood Evil Skill still circulated within him, miraculously easing the soreness.

Teacher Sun casually walked over to him, "You do have an aptitude; you've gotten the gist of it after just an afternoon... Go back and rest, you have an extra piece of meat for dinner—the rule here is the best performer gets an extra piece of meat, let's see how many days' meat you can earn."

Zhao Changhe was somewhat surprised, "We can just keep practicing martial arts and eating meat here without having to work?"

Teacher Sun's smile held a hint of sarcasm, "We're teaching you martial arts and feeding you meat, of course, so you can be put to use. Did you think we're raising you for fun?"

Zhao Changhe ventured to ask, "Then..."

He was interrupted by Teacher Sun before he could finish, "That's why you'd better train hard these days. Or else, if you die on a task, I'll just have someone drag your body to feed the dogs."

Zhao Changhe shut his mouth.

Teacher Sun departed leisurely, "You're a credited man, so you'll be given some privilege for now. That brother who came with you has already been sent on a task. I don't know if you'll be the only one living in your room from now on, but having more space is nice, isn't it?"

Zhao Changhe tensed up inside.

No wonder Luo Qi wasn't there when he returned at noon; he had already been sent on a task.

To join the Demon Sect is fundamentally different from being a servant in the Luo Family; it's a matter of life and death... He wondered if Luo Qi had returned yet?

From another angle, Zhao Changhe found his current path ironic.

Why did he kill Luo Zhenwu? Although partly in self-defense, the main reason was to avenge the villagers of Zhao Mansion who had been slaughtered.

Yet now, he was part of a group that did the very same thing, and there might come a day when he would have to do it himself.

If he had felt that the Luo Family's actions were vile and not much different from the Demon Sect's, now he saw there was still a difference after all... The biggest difference being that the Luo Family didn't rely on such deeds for a living, whereas it was one of the main operations of the Demon Sect.

But was there really a choice? Circumstances had compelled him to act this way back then, but could he still turn back now?

Zhao Changhe looked down at the rice in his bowl, his eyes deep and rippling.

A born bandit, huh...

"Hope you can keep your innocence in the future, and when we meet again in the Worldly Society, I can still hear you call me sister."

Zhao Changhe gazed absently into the sky; the characters that filled the night before had long since vanished, as if they had never existed.