Volume Four: High Mountains and Flowing Water Chapter Thirty-Five: Born into the World

Chen Chen gives to the world, and Chen Chen reaps from the world.

The two-day school break vanished in the blink of an eye. Arriving at another Monday, Chen Chen walked into the classroom carrying a hint of holiday-induced lethargy. Generally speaking, the break had been relaxing; however, bidding farewell to leisure and returning to the classroom to study, read, and listen attentively felt somewhat dull and restrictive.

Chen Chen arrived relatively early. As time passed, the other students filed into the room, each taking their seats to await the teacher.

When the bell rang, a student, perhaps driven by some unknown impulse, looked around before picking up a stool and walking over to Chen Chen. His aggressive demeanor suggested he was looking for a fight.

"Chen Chen, did Xiao Fang invite you to her house as a guest yesterday?" The boy, Li Chui, was short and wore his hair in a slicked-back style, heavily gelled until it shone black and bright.

"So what if she did? You even brought a stool—are you looking for a fight?" Chen Chen did not back down. In the few years of this particular cycle, he had encountered his fair share of grievances and conflicts.

"It’s nothing much, but Xiao Fang is so cute. When a young girl extends an invitation, you have to show some appreciation, get it?" Li Chui grinned, revealing gaps where his adult teeth had yet to grow, as if mocking Chen Chen for his lack of taste and inability to seize the chance to get close to a girl.

"Not interested. I have things to do on Sundays; I can't just go wherever I please," Chen Chen replied with a touch of helplessness.

"Then do you think I’m a good match for Xiao Fang? Do we look good together?" As Li Chui spoke, he stood next to Xiao Fang, a smile spreading across his face. Both of them were still elementary school students, some of their teeth still missing.

"You look great, happy now?" Chen Chen sighed. He had once possessed such innocent smiles, but for some reason, he could no longer summon them. As he grew older, he found himself burdened with the mindset of an adult while still in his youth. The smiles shared by Li Chui and Xiao Fang seemed to mock him for a decision made yesterday, one that caused him to miss out on something good today.

The class bell rang, and Li Chui carried his stool back to his seat. Xiao Fang sat in front of Chen Chen. Sometimes, when a gentle breeze blew, Chen Chen could catch the faint, clean scent of her shampoo. During the ten-minute breaks, Xiao Fang would occasionally turn around to chat with him. She had become one of the few playmates Chen Chen had in this cycle.

As the lessons progressed—Chinese, math, and self-study—the morning unfolded as expected. Chen Chen gained a bit more knowledge, continuing his steady march along the path of life. When he was idle, Chen Chen liked to daydream. Because his body was not yet strong or tall, he was still years away from being able to stand on his own two feet. He followed the routine of his education, though perhaps he imagined that a bit of the freedom he craved lay just outside the classroom walls. Perhaps the joyous, carefree days were waiting beyond the schoolhouse, but absolute freedom always exacts a price one cannot afford.

In the cycle of reincarnation, Chen Chen gradually came to understand a few things. With a lingering sense of reluctance, he bid farewell to this phase of his life. For many years, he had longed for the life of a mortal. Eventually, his dream led him into the body of this young person, allowing him to experience the innocence and laughter that only children possess.

*Innocent youth, a constant companion in learning;*
*Through cycles of mist and rain, one dreams of years gone by.*
*A smile born of childlike wonder;*
*Waking, one finds the flowers blooming just the same.*

Chen Chen was, after all, merely a passerby, regardless of the mission or attachment that brought him to this human world. The world was bustling and beautiful, and he did not know if he himself carried corruption or sanctity. Yet, he had possessed that childlike innocence in several past lives. He had longed for that laughter for a long time, and today, it served to fill the childhood void of this current life.

When the dream faded and he returned, the flowers of the motherland were growing sturdily, their smiling faces the most beautiful sight of this journey. Childhood drifted away, and in the blink of an eye, several years had passed. The once-prominent boy had grown into a young man. Having left elementary and middle school behind, he had been polished by campus life into a true talent.

He gently waved a paper fan inscribed with the characters for "Clear Fragrance." Dressed in a long gown that complemented his handsome face, he greeted guests with impeccable etiquette. Over the years, Chen Chen had blossomed into a gifted young man. His striking appearance drew the admiring gazes of many, and his refined attire, combined with his aura, made him appear increasingly noble and enigmatic.

Chen Chen survived in this world through the craft of carving. The foundational knowledge he had acquired covered elementary, middle, and even high school levels. His studies spanned from Chinese and mathematics to English, politics, natural science, geography, biology, chemistry, music, and history—a vast and eclectic collection of subjects.

Counting the time, this was already Chen Chen’s twentieth spring in this human life. He was in the prime of his youth, a "hidden dragon" possessing talent but not yet fully unfurled. His carving skills had become increasingly exquisite, and by his early twenties, he already held the reputation of a seasoned master. He excelled at carving practical, everyday household items. Following his grandfather, Elder Chen, he had also learned the craft of carving divine statues.

The process of lacquering and oiling was a bit troublesome; Chen Chen had studied it for many years but still had not mastered that particular step. As he grew older, he left the elementary school of his youth behind. After completing middle school and entering high school, his progress in carving had come to a near standstill. The time he could dedicate to the craft had shifted from practicing whenever he was free to only being able to pick up his carving knife during holidays.

Through years of persistent practice, however, Chen Chen had made genuine progress in his artistry. He stood out in high school, surrounded by thousands of other talented youths. Most had developed well, with many reaching heights of 1.78 meters. Chen Chen had grown tall, and even at his young age, he already displayed the defined biceps usually seen only in middle-aged men.

He had made considerable progress in the martial arts. In his previous cycles, he had mastered many profound techniques. In this life, however, survival required experience and strength. He did not know the "Great Ancestor’s Long Fist," and the "Heavenly Creation Arts" of the past were of no use here. Tai Chi and Bagua were styles belonging to others. Only in "Xingyi Quan"—Form-Intention Boxing—could he find his own form and his own intent, moving as his heart desired.

In his speech and actions, he emphasized scholarship; in his movements, he emphasized form; and in his conduct, he observed etiquette. Sometimes, when he clenched his fist, he knew why he did so, where it was directed, and what emotion fueled it. Every strike was powerful, every ounce of force carried meaning; the form was the surface, and the intent was the truth.

*Stance set, the fist asks for height;*
*Power spent, the fist returns, intent comes home.*
*Again the strike moves the whole body;*
*Palm and fist交 (cross), the intent shakes the enemy.*

Chen Chen felt a sense of melancholy. As time moved forward, he had become a young man in his prime. In this life, he was Chen Chen. The halo of fate gradually tightened, and the person known as Chen Chen had experienced over twenty years of an ordinary human existence. There was no dissipation of his soul in wild pleasure, nor any unbearable suffering leading to another cycle. He was very satisfied with these short twenty years—living in stability.

Stories in the three thousand great worlds played out every day, but only by grasping his own destiny through careful, step-by-step progress could he hope to receive his reward.