Chaotic World Book

The bed was actually quite large, covered with some straw and a padded blanket. There were two quilts, after all it was a "double room", and their status wasn't at the bottom, considered to be leaders, so the treatment was fairly decent.

At night, Zhao Changhe still practiced outside in the snow while Luo Qi slipped into bed first, taking the spot closer to the interior. Wrapped in the quilts, he intently watched Zhao Changhe practicing his horse stance and chopping motions at the doorway, noting the rhythmic sound of the blade hitting the wooden stake.

He was so serious that he didn't turn his head once.

Luo Qi smirked, then suddenly asked, "Don't those high-intensity practices from morning till night cause your muscles to ache?"

Without turning around, Zhao Changhe replied, "The 'Blood Evil Skill' is quite interesting—seems like it takes care of that problem; indeed, I don't feel pain."

"Don't you feel fatigued?"

"That, I do. And it seems to tire me out more easily, needing occasional rests. Basically, it's like overusing my inner energy, formidable in the moment but leaving me drained afterwards. I got into a fight today too, and that strain was even more noticeable than during practice."

Luo Qi pondered, "Demon Skills really are peculiar... You've only practiced for two days and already feel such distinct effects. If it were a cultivation technique from the Luo family, sensing the energy flow in a month would be considered highly talented."

"There must be some trick to it, otherwise who would practice the Demon Sect?"

"What do you mean by 'Demon Sect'? Wait, you mentioned you had a fight? With whom?" Luo Qi suddenly realized, his expression turning stern.

Zhao Changhe finally turned to look at him, saw his expression, and grinned, "Does elder brother plan to defend me? Tch, I always forget how much stronger you actually are than me."

"I am indeed much stronger than you!"

"So why are you scared to sleep, think I'm gonna blow your cover? I'm the one who should be afraid of you."

"You get familiar and start talking nonsense like this; you weren't like this before..." Luo Qi touched his forehead, "I'm asking who you fought with, do you need help?"

"Don't they start talking nonsense when they get familiar? Anyway, I won, no worries."

Luo Qi, tired of the conversation, turned towards the wall, "Since he's a friend, remember to call me in the future if anything happens. If I'm not around, just hide—revenge can wait. Don't be too reckless when you've only been learning for two days; that physical size of yours is actually not very useful."

"Alright, alright." Zhao Changhe was quite pleased; now there was a real sense of friendship. But seeing how Luo Qi just went to bed after eating, Zhao Changhe was puzzled, "I say, I've never seen you practicing. Don't you need to practice?"

"I practice 'Inner Breath'; I can do it lying down."

"…That easy? Why then do others need to sit cross-legged, aligning themselves toward the heavens?"

"That's Mystic Sect stuff. The world is full of various schools. Some cultivate while walking or running; it's not rare to find cultivation that can be done lying down." Luo Qi suddenly smiled, "What, regretting not learning the external mental method of the Luo family?"

Zhao Changhe's expression turned a bit grim, and after a long pause, he sighed, "No regrets. What I seek isn't comfort, but speed."

"So you practice day and night?"

"Um…"

"The path of martial arts preaches balance between tension and relaxation; forcing it might not be good. Take a break." Luo Qi paused, realizing that this statement and inviting him to bed were not much different, quickly added, "Just don't randomly touch me when you're up here, that's disgusting."

Zhao Changhe replied irritably, "You really think I'm into that? Wouldn't that be disgusting for me too?"

He then chopped another time, feeling not yet exhausted, "You sleep first. Tonight, I want to reach a thousand chops."

Luo Qi widened his eyes, "You're mad."

"Mad?" Zhao Changhe whispered softly, "If I'm not mad, how can I protect what I don't want to lose?"

Luo Qi's expression grew complex as he watched Zhao Changhe in the dark, sweating through his practice. There was an indistinct resentment in his eyes, yet also an undeniable admiration, which finally turned into a deep sigh as he closed his eyes.

Though he seemed to be sleeping, he was actually practicing his Inner Breath.

Inside and outside, still and active, in the utterly silent snowy night, they formed a unique scenery.

I don't know how long it had been, but Zhao Changhe didn't know how many chops he had made either. Finally exhausted, he still felt satisfied inside.

He found a sense of it, gaining some control, his speed getting faster, steadier, and more precise. Initially, when chopping at the wooden stake, the marks were messy and hard to land accurately. Now the marks were increasingly concentrated, approaching a straight line.

The legendary "As Arm Points" and "Where the mind goes, the knife goes" philosophy could indeed be achieved through long-term practice.

Nothing else, only proficiency, a timeless truth that never changes.

"Damn, I'm all sweaty, there's no place to bathe, it's really uncomfortable." Zhao Changhe wiped his sweat as he returned to the room, complaining. However, seeing Luo Qi seemingly asleep, he stopped talking.

He practiced so hard also with the intention of staying warm. In the dead of winter with thin clothing, if he didn't keep moving, he could truly freeze to death. But every time he stopped, the cold wind made him feel even colder.

Zhao Changhe reluctantly hung up his sweat-drenched shirt to dry and wiped down his body before crawling into his own covers.

Luo Qi shrank back a little, moving further inside.

"Aren't you sleeping?"

"Your chopping was too loud, who could sleep?"

Zhao Changhe felt a bit embarrassed, "Then I won't practice chopping at night, just other exercises."

"No need," Luo Qi said stiffly, "If you need to improve your strength quickly, you can't stop for such trivial reasons. I don't mind it, and as for what others think, to hell with them."

"If you don't mind, you should sleep. I'm dead tired anyway, I'm going to sleep first."

"..."

The room became quiet for a moment.

Zhao Changhe was truly exhausted and immediately closed his eyes to sleep. Each in their own blanket, they actually couldn't touch each other, not like what Luo Qi imagined of bumping and brushing against each other. They each did truly smell, which was an unpleasant experience.

He had no interest in figuring out whether the other person was male or female, his mind full of troubles, who had the mood to ponder these things. As he said, it's better not to be a female; if truly a female, it would only add trouble. A male would save much unnecessary hassle.

Zhao Changhe, with no other thoughts, quickly fell asleep. On the other side, Luo Qi, clutching the blanket with tensed nerves, seemed to turn towards the wall, but actually his eyes were wide open, his body tensed as if his heart might jump out of his throat.

"Would he dare to embrace me? He probably wouldn't. He said he wouldn't hug, he finds it disgusting, right?"

"But what if he unconsciously embraces me in his sleep?"

"If he's unconscious, he wouldn't realize it, right?"

"But what if he wakes up and I'm still asleep? Then he would know."

Luo Qi's mind was a mess, leading to complete insomnia.

Soon, snores loud as thunder filled the room, and Zhao Changhe was sleeping deeply. Luo Qi irritably turned over, raising his foot as if to kick, but hesitated and slowly put it down.

He stared at the side of Zhao Changhe's face in the dark, the scar there still striking even in the night.

To say Zhao Changhe's scar was ugly seemed insincere – it wasn't, it even had a wild beauty to it, very masculine.

Because Zhao Changhe himself was robust and handsome, a handsome person can sport any style and it would just be another cool appearance, ugly ones shouldn't try.

Zhao Changhe slept very soundly, not moving at all. Luo Qi watched him for a long time, gradually relaxing. Not knowing when, utterly worn out, he could no longer hold on and finally drifted off into a drowsy sleep.

In his dreams, it seemed as if someone gently brought him food.

He faintly heard himself asking, "Mom, why aren't you eating?"

The person in his dream rubbed his head, "Mom had lunch already, I'm not hungry."

The face of the person was blurred, just a memory from when he was a few years old, long forgotten.