Once he figured out how to unlock the remaining two skills, Jiang Nian glanced at his meager Attention Value—barely over two hundred points—and decisively shut the system panel. Out of sight, out of mind.
At the same time, his current state of poverty stung him deeply. He channeled that frustration and resentment into motivation, throwing himself wholeheartedly into martial arts training.
And just like that, three days flew by!
Thanks to Jiang Nian’s relentless effort, his progress in the Shaolin Child Technique had advanced by leaps and bounds. Its proficiency had now broken through from “Entry Level” to “Minor Achievement” (16/500).
Just like last time, this breakthrough came with another glimpse into Du Gao’s memories. However, this round was rather unremarkable—just more of Du Gao’s recollections related to his martial training. Nothing earth-shattering.
But that wasn’t the main point. The main point was the massive boost in actual strength that accompanied the Shaolin Child Technique’s rank-up.
The most immediate change was his inner energy. At Entry Level, Jiang Nian’s inner energy had been no thicker than a strand of hair. Now, at Minor Achievement, it had swelled to roughly the size of a pigeon’s egg. Beyond just soothing his meridians and easing muscle fatigue, it could now be applied in actual combat. While he still couldn’t strike someone from a distance, he could now cloak his body in a layer of inner energy. On offense, he could inject that energy into an opponent’s body, causing unseen internal damage. On defense, he could use it to shield himself and absorb incoming blows.
It was no exaggeration to say that with this transformation, Jiang Nian now stood at the pinnacle of human capability. As long as no weapons were involved, he was confident that no one in the entire world could best him in close-quarters combat.
The only drawback was the immense energy drain. With his current inner energy reserves, he could sustain a full-power burst for less than a minute before running dry. And fully replenishing it would take at least an hour. In gaming terms, he was the textbook definition of a high-mana-cost, high-burst-damage warrior.
“It’s enough,” Jiang Nian muttered to himself, clenching his fists and feeling the abundant power surging within him. He was just an actor, after all—not a hitman or a professional fighter. Opportunities to actually use his inner energy in daily life were few and far between. The short “mana bar” wouldn’t really impact him much.
He checked the time: 8:00 AM. A couple of days ago, the crew coordinator had messaged him, saying the opening ceremony was at nine, and as one of the cast members, Jiang Nian’s presence was mandatory. He quickly took another shower, changed into fresh clothes, and rushed over to the set.
The production Jiang Nian was involved in was called Chronicles of the Jianghu. It was a web drama with a budget of eight million yuan. In an era where most web dramas were scraping by with budgets of two to five million, this kind of money put it near the top of the heap. Consequently, the opening ceremony was quite a grand affair. They’d invited a whole swarm of reporters and gone through the whole ritualistic song and dance—burning incense, paying respects to deities, laying out offerings. Even the cameras on set were draped in red cloth, supposedly to ward off evil spirits.
Of course, none of this pomp and circumstance had much to do with Jiang Nian. He was just playing a minor role in the show. Minor roles were just there to fill out the background, nothing more. But standing there in a corner, watching people laugh and chatter on stage, proclaiming their lofty ambitions, Jiang Nian couldn’t help but hear Eason Chan’s voice echoing in his head.
“At eighteen, standing at the school dance like a nobody…”
“Right then and there, I swore that everyone in this room would know my name…”
As the final notes of Exaggerated faded in his mind, he zoned out for a bit longer. Finally, the opening ceremony—long and tedious as a grandma’s foot-binding cloth—drew to a close.
Jiang Nian stepped down from the main area and found a quiet corner to light up a cigarette. He’d barely taken his first drag when a voice piped up beside him. “Hey, getting your smoke on?”
Jiang Nian looked over. It was the crew coordinator. He fished out a decent cigarette and offered it. The coordinator took it without a fuss, squatted down next to Jiang Nian, lit up, took a deep pull, and asked, “First time at an opening ceremony, huh? Whaddya think?”
“Less fun than O Shen,” Jiang Nian replied offhandedly.
The coordinator choked for a second, then let out a dry laugh. “You little punk. If you think it’s boring, just say so. What’s with the random nonsense?”
“Alright, fine. It was pretty dull,” Jiang Nian admitted. He glanced at the coordinator. “So, now that the ceremony’s over, when do we actually start shooting?”
“In a few hours, probably,” the coordinator guessed. He wasn’t the director, so he couldn’t say for sure. He was just going off past experience. “By the way, how’s the script looking? Got all your lines down pat?”
Jiang Nian nodded. “Memorized them cold. Don’t worry, there won’t be any issues.”
“Good, good,” the coordinator said, relieved. After all, he’d been the one to pick Jiang Nian. If Jiang Nian messed up during filming, some of the blame would inevitably splash back onto him.
They chatted idly for a while longer until their cigarettes burned down. The coordinator then wandered off to attend to other tasks.
Left to his own devices in the quiet spot, Jiang Nian figured he might as well make use of the time. He started practicing his martial forms right there on the spot.
“Hey, are you a practitioner? Traditional martial arts? Or just modern wushu?”
After some unknown amount of time, a hesitant voice broke his concentration. Jiang Nian opened his eyes to see a brawny, dark-skinned man standing a short distance away, eyeing him with keen curiosity.
Jiang Nian didn’t recognize him and frowned slightly. “And you are…?”
“Allow me to introduce myself. I’m the martial arts choreographer for Chronicles of the Jianghu. My surname’s Li, Li Cheng.”
Jiang Nian’s expression cleared. “Ah, Mr. Li. Nice to meet you. I’m Jiang Nian, playing the role of Du Gao in the show. Is there something I can help you with?”
“Oh, nothing urgent. I was just passing by and saw you training. Got a bit curious,” Li Cheng said. “Young brother Jiang, what you’re practicing there… is it traditional martial arts? Chuan Wu?”
Jiang Nian looked a bit puzzled by the specific term. “Chuan Wu?”
“Yeah! Traditional martial arts—the real old-school stuff!” Li Cheng clarified eagerly.
Jiang Nian’s frown returned slightly. What’s with this guy? he thought. Why not just ask if I practice martial arts? Why the fancy label ‘Chuan Wu’? “Yeah, it is. Why do you ask?”
“No reason in particular, just professional interest. You hardly see any genuine traditional martial artists these days,” Li Cheng said with a grin.
Jiang Nian’s frown deepened. “What do you mean by that?” He was getting an odd vibe from Li Cheng. The man was a martial arts choreographer himself, yet he seemed so awestruck at seeing Jiang Nian train, talking about how rare traditional martial arts were. Weren’t all those action movie stars practitioners?
“I mean exactly what I said,” Li Cheng replied, then paused as realization dawned on him. He looked at Jiang Nian strangely. “Wait, brother Jiang… you mean you really don’t know the state of the traditional martial arts world?”
Jiang Nian shook his head honestly. It had been exactly four days since he’d first dipped his toes into martial arts. And in those four days, he’d done practically nothing but train. He was completely clueless about the broader martial arts scene.
Seeing this, Li Cheng’s face lit up with amusement. A genuine inheritor of traditional martial arts who was simultaneously completely ignorant of the community’s current state? The odds of those two traits coinciding were rarer than spotting a wild panda.
Chuckling, Li Cheng plopped himself down on a nearby step. “Alright, pull up a seat, and let me fill you in on the whole situation with traditional martial arts…”
