Translator: Dj22031
Editor: Dj22031
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In a martial arts dojo in City S, Qiao Huaize stood in an empty martial arts classroom, gazing at his reflection in the wall of mirrors. At this moment, he was wearing a white dojo uniform, and the gold-rimmed glasses he always wore were now removed and placed aside.
Without the obstruction of his glasses, his long, narrow, dark gray phoenix eyes appeared even more unfathomable, like a deep, ancient pool, exuding a faint coolness.
Qiao Huaize held a sword in his hand, one of the many fine swords he had searched for in this world for many years. It was just a pity that no matter how good the swords were in this world, they could not compare to those in his previous life.
The swords in this world had no soul; they were merely inanimate objects.
Qiao Huaize’s slender fingers gripped the scabbard, and he slowly pulled it out, tossing it aside.
When Wan Ding, the director of the martial arts school, arrived at the door, this was the scene he saw.
Qiao Huaize wielded his sword with fluid grace, sword flowers blooming around him. Every move he made was incredibly fast; ordinary people could only see afterimages. But in reality, Qiao Huaize’s swordsmanship was fast yet steady. Every muscle he stretched, every finger gripping the hilt, even the arc and posture of the sword he swung, was entirely under his control, and executed flawlessly.
Wan Ding stood at the door, gazing intently for a long time. His family had always practiced martial arts, but each generation learned different things. For example, his grandfather practiced swordsmanship, his father practiced boxing, and he practiced Sanda (Chinese kickboxing). After all, times were changing; the things the older generation did were no longer learned by young people today, nor could they learn them.
Wan Ding’s grandfather was a well-known swordsman in the area, but to be frank, Wan Ding thought that Qiao Huaize might be even more skilled than his grandfather.
Watching Qiao Huaize wield his sword was a pleasure in itself. As long as the sword was in his hand, it seemed to become a part of him. Regardless of the sword style, Qiao Huaize always exuded an air of otherworldly elegance.
He was like a noble red-crowned crane, forever elegant, composed, and upright. Qiao Huaize’s swordsmanship was no longer simply sword dancing and martial arts.
That’s art, oh art! Wan Ding thought to himself, tears streaming down his face.
After finishing a set of sword techniques, Qiao Huaize loosened his fingers slightly and flipped his wrist, turning the hilt of the longsword over the back of his hand. Qiao Huaize then gripped the hilt with his other hand and sheathed the sword.
“Great, excellent!” Although he had been watching for several years, Wan Ding still couldn’t help but applaud and greet him.
Qiao Huaize turned his head to the side; after all those movements, not a single drop of sweat had appeared on his forehead. He glanced at the time; it was almost seven o’clock in the evening. He lowered his eyelashes, and just as he was about to pick up the water glass from the floor beside him, Wan Ding, ever the attentive person he was, handed him the water.
“Thank you.” Qiao Huaize didn’t stand on ceremony with him.
Families that practiced martial arts were generally very traditional. Wan Ding was raised by his grandfather when he was young. His grandfather practiced martial arts and taught students, and Wan Ding was his little follower, running around serving tea and water. He was used to it.
Because martial arts, like traditional opera, emphasized the importance of having apprentices. Masters usually treated their apprentices with the same sincerity they would show to their sons, while apprentices would usually respect their masters as if they were honoring their fathers. Some masters didn’t charge money, so the apprentices learnt and lived with their masters for free, so naturally, they should serve their masters in return.
Wan Ding was raised as a junior apprentice in this way. His grandfather was upright, and although he came from a family of martial artists, he was a very good person, very humble and polite, all of which were related to his grandfather’s influence.
In Wan Ding’s eyes, this young man, a few years younger than himself, reminded him of his grandfather. Wan Ding couldn’t quite put his finger on it, not only because Qiao Huaize was a master swordsman, but also because Qiao Huaize’s demeanor and temperament had the air of a master from the past, which made Wan Ding feel a sense of respect involuntarily.
“Mr. Qiao, it’s New Year’s Eve today. Aren’t you going home for the New Year?” Wan Ding asked.
Qiao Huaize shook his head. “I don’t celebrate holidays.”
Wan Ding, being a bit too nosy, had asked about it, recalling that Qiao Huaize had done the same thing a couple of years ago. His identity was shrouded in mystery; he seemed to have no family, and Wan Ding didn’t know where he lived. It was as if he were truly a hermit living in the mountains.
“Would you like to come back with me for the New Year?” Wan Ding suggested. “My father and grandfather are really looking forward to seeing you. My old man is 87 years old, and he was so excited when he saw your video the other day. You two will definitely get along well.”
“Sorry, no thanks,” Qiao Huaize said. “I don’t like crowds.”
Wan Ding could only nod regretfully and watch as Qiao Huaize packed his things.
When Qiao Huaize finished changing his clothes and was about to leave, Wan Ding said to him, “Sir, Happy New Year.”
Qiao Huaize’s icy gray eyes finally softened a little, and he nodded gently.
“The same to you.”
….
It was almost eight o’clock when Qiao Huaize came out of the convenience store.
At this time, apart from some young people who were out having fun, almost every household was already at home preparing for the New Year. Shops that usually stayed open until 10 o’clock were now mostly closed.
He lived in a staff housing building on the outskirts of S City, near the university. Because the university town of S City was only merged into the city in recent years, the staff housing building was basically empty. It was a new city; so locals lived in the city center, while the teachers and students who rented houses were mostly from out of town, and now that it was Chinese New Year, they had all gone home.
In this 30-story building, only four apartments had lights on tonight, scattered and not close together, like four isolated islands in the darkness.
Qiao Huaize didn’t care at all. He had spent too much time alone in his previous life, and he preferred quiet to liveliness.
Once inside the elevator, Qiao Huaize pressed the button for the 30th floor.
The elevator reached the top floor, and Qiao Huaize entered the room.
His house was basically unfurnished, with simple white walls and wooden floors, and no unnecessary decorations. Although the house was 100 square meters, there was no TV or computer, only a bed, a bedside table, two large bookcases piled high with books, and a display cabinet specifically for swords. The living room had a table, two stools, and a sofa, and that was it. The kitchen, however, was fairly well-equipped.
No one would believe that the most famous and popular professor in the university town usually lived in such a simple home, taking the word minimalism to the extreme.
Qiao Huaize arrived home and began his nighttime routine.
He methodically cleaned himself, took a shower, and dried his hair. Afterward, he began polishing his swords, putting the ones he had taken that day back in their place. Then, he began admiring the other swords, taking one out to polish it further.
Two hours later, Qiao Huaize finally put down his sword, took out a dictionary-sized book and a notebook from the bookshelf, sat down at the table and looked at them for a while, occasionally jotting something down in the notebook— yes, he was preparing the content for his classes next semester.
At 11:30, the sound of fireworks rang out outside the window. Only then did Qiao Huaize look up and drink a glass of water.
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