Chapter Four: Why Is Our Style So Different?

"Where are you?" Chen Jin asked into the phone.

"I'm just outside your car door." (Beep, beep, beep.)

Hearing both the phone and the tapping at his window, Chen Jin quickly looked up. Outside the car window, a girl was staring back at him, her eyes wide—not with anger, but glazed with mist, as if tears might fall at any moment.

Seeing this, Chen Jin hurriedly opened the car door, pulled her into an embrace, and gently patted her back to comfort her. "It's okay, don't be afraid, don't be scared. It's just thunder, no different than Dad snoring."

The girl was his younger sister, Chen Lan, seventeen years old and in her last year of high school. There was nothing remarkable about her looks, her figure, or her grades—an utterly ordinary girl, if one were to set aside the family she came from.

"It's not that... I just missed you, and Mom and Dad," Chen Lan said, and her tears streamed down.

"Oh, oh, let's go home, let's go home," Chen Jin continued to soothe her, refraining from his usual teasing. His sister was clearly shaken, and his only priority now was to calm her before they got home.

After getting Chen Lan settled in the car, Chen Jin cast a distant glance at the plaza building, then started the engine and drove away.

On the ride home, Chen Lan's tears had dried, but she kept looking at Chen Jin so intently that he grew uncomfortable and finally asked why she was staring.

"I missed you," Chen Lan replied.

At her words, Chen Jin felt his scalp tingle even more. "We're siblings, you know. Don't go catching any strange ideas about me. I have no desire to see the inside of a German orthopedics clinic or a British courtroom."

Chen Lan rolled her eyes. "This is the kind of 'missing' where a sister misses her brother. How did that get so twisted coming out of your mouth?"

Relieved, Chen Jin realized that this, the banter, was his real sister. The sweet and naive version from earlier belonged to another family, not his.

Soon they were home. Chen Lan went to her room, wishing him goodnight, which Chen Jin thought nothing of—until she added that she wanted to say goodnight to their parents as well. In that moment, Chen Jin wondered if she hadn't been struck by lightning after all.

...

Back in his own room, Chen Jin retrieved the so-called low-level Vitality Orb. Like the White Emperor's Profound Energy Sutra, the orb shot into his body, but not into his forehead; instead, it entered just below his heart and lungs, three inches above his navel—the very spot where Wu Song had once pointed out the body's energy center.

Immediately, Chen Jin felt a rush of warmth surge from his diaphragm, spreading through his organs. His breath grew foul and sulfurous, his intestines churned, and he sensed a wave of heat building, needing release.

He rushed to the bathroom, sat down, and began to breathe deeply. Clouds of foul air poured from his mouth, while below, golden filth dropped into the toilet, filling the room with stench despite the exhaust fan running at full power. The odor lingered, relentless, as long as he remained the source.

After half an hour and five or six flushes, Chen Jin finally emerged, his face flushed, eyes bright. He shut the bathroom door tight and let the fan continue to run, while outside he carefully assessed his body.

He felt lighter again, just as he had atop Jingyang Ridge.

"An adventure! Truly an adventure! My life for the past twenty-four years feels like a dream. Does the world really harbor extraordinary powers, just as the novels describe?" Chen Jin mused.

Energized by the Vitality Orb, he didn't sleep all night. He tried to write out the Metal Qi Formula from the White Emperor's Profound Energy Sutra, but every time he completed the five thousand characters on blank paper, they transformed into the Dao De Jing, not the formula as he remembered it.

Baffled, Chen Jin wrote the formula three times, but all he produced was the Dao De Jing. After this, he felt his energy wane and, exhausted, climbed into bed to rest.

...

January 2nd, 8:30 AM. Chen Jin left home on his electric scooter.

Having graduated from college the previous year, he'd spent a year drifting before returning to help his father with the family business. His father ran a building materials company, which had grown alongside the recent construction boom in Xialake County. Still, their share of the market was only about twenty percent.

Not one to put all his eggs in one basket, his father also owned a furniture factory. Chen Jin now worked at one of its affiliated furniture stores as manager.

The Chen family was well-known in Xialake County—even in Jiao City, they were far from ordinary citizens, recognized every year as model taxpayers. Yet, Chen Jin still rode a scooter, because he'd failed his driver's license exam three times and was still trying.

He didn't hide his status as the boss's son, so everyone in the store knew who he was. As soon as he entered, a woman with a serpentine sway sidled up to him.

"Well, well, Young Master Chen, up so early? It's not even nine!" The woman wore a form-fitting cheongsam, showing off her curvaceous figure. Her face was striking—an oval beauty, though not the type favored by the men of the Chen family.

Her name was Li Han. For all her flirtatious mannerisms, she was a good woman... Well, Chen Jin knew she spent her nights bar-hopping and picking up men, but at work, she was diligent and professional—strictly in the sense of not mixing her chaotic private life with her job. For this, Chen Jin had made her assistant manager, with a monthly salary over six thousand and an 8% annual profit share. Given the store's scale and his father's connections, annual net profits hovered around half a million, making her year-end bonus substantial. She drove a Beetle, while Chen Jin was still on his scooter.

"Still need to check in at the factory later—busy day. Have you eaten breakfast? Want to go together?" Chen Jin changed the subject.

"Not yet, let's go," Li Han said, slipping her arm through his.

How could Chen Jin refuse? Who says no when a beautiful woman takes the initiative?

"Anyone else not had breakfast? Young Master Chen is treating today!" Li Han called out to the staff.

Most had already eaten; only one saleswoman joined them.

Across from the furniture store was a noodle shop that also sold steamed buns and dumplings.

Chen Jin ordered a bowl of thick soup and two pan-fried buns. Li Han got the same soup, and the saleswoman chose stir-fried rice noodles.

To be honest, Chen Jin found the shop's sign—"Xialake Authentic Snacks"—a bit annoying, as it sold common fare like stir-fried noodles, rice noodles, buns, and dumplings. The food was good, but since when did such generic snacks define Xialake's cuisine?

The owner was a greasy middle-aged man—at least, that's how he appeared to Chen Jin and most men, but to some women, he was a warm, attractive uncle: tall, handsome, with a magnetic voice and a stylish way of smoking, reminiscent of Leslie Cheung in a Wong Kar-wai film.

Li Han was a regular, always dropping by to chat, though the owner, who apparently didn't care for oval-faced women, kept their conversations casual—nothing suggestive or improper.

His wife had passed away three years ago, and they had no children.

Chen Jin had seen a photo of the man's late wife—a good-looking woman, with features reminiscent of women from Yingzhou province.

And now, he saw her again: dressed in black and white, she sat across from him.