MMB Chapter 21 Choosing a Martial Arts University
Chapter 21 Choosing a Martial Arts University
In the days following the release of the college entrance examination results, Lin Fan felt like a machine running at full speed on an assembly line.
Every morning when I open my eyes, there are dozens of unread messages on my phone—from TV stations, martial arts departments, martial arts universities, various media outlets, and even interview calls from other provinces. I don't know where they got my number.
After he finished washing up and left his bedroom, he often found two groups of people already waiting for him in the living room: admissions officers from Beijing Martial Arts University and Shanghai Martial Arts University.
The two groups remained silent, but both stared intently in the direction he had come from, as if they were eyeing a piece of meat that everyone wanted to grab.
The leaders of the martial arts department came several times.
First it was the city, then the province, and finally even the provincial martial arts department sent a deputy director to visit him. The director shook his hand and said a lot of things like "Pride of Jiangcheng" and "Glory of Jiangnan." Before leaving, he left a bronze plaque with the four characters "Martial Arts Talent" engraved on it.
Zhou Lan wiped the bronze plaque clean again and again, gesturing to it on the living room wall several times before finally hanging it in the most prominent position above the television. Lin Jianguo, on the other hand, printed out the photo of him shaking hands with the head of the martial arts department, framed it, and placed it on the coffee table so that everyone who came would have a look.
Choosing a martial arts university didn't take too long. The conditions offered by Kyoto Martial Arts University were indeed tempting—a full scholarship, a private training room, and a one-on-one mentorship from a peak-level Earth-rank instructor.
But Lin Fan ultimately chose Shanghai Martial Arts University for a simple reason: it was closer. Kyoto was too far away, and his parents were getting old; he didn't want to travel too far.
When he told Su Yunlan, the director of the admissions office of Wuhan University in Shanghai, about his decision, the capable-looking female director, wearing gold-rimmed glasses, immediately stood up from her chair, shook his hand and said "good" three times, her eyes crinkling with smiles.
Qin Zhen, the vice principal of Kyoto Martial Arts University, sighed heavily, slapped his thigh for a long time before standing up from the sofa. Before leaving, he insisted on giving Lin Fan a business card, saying that he could call him anytime if he changed his mind.
Next came the interviews. Cameras from provincial TV stations, municipal TV stations, the official Wuzhe Forum, the Huaxia Martial Arts Daily, the Jiangzhou Metropolitan Daily… were set up for two hours at a time.
The reporters' questions followed the same few formulas over and over again—"How did you feel when you learned you were the top martial arts champion?" "What were your training methods?" "What would you like to say to all the candidates across the country?"
At first, Lin Fan would answer seriously, but later he could only mechanically smile, nod, and say "thank you." Once, during a break while changing the lights, he secretly yawned.
He was caught red-handed by the camera, but the footage actually gained him a lot of fans after it was broadcast. The comments were full of things like "Haha, even the top scorer is a normal person" and "His yawn had the lazy feeling of taking down an enemy general from 3,000 meters away."
A few days later, the number of interviews gradually decreased.
But before they could even catch their breath, the gatherings came one after another. First, there was the city's martial arts department's victory celebration banquet, then the provincial martial arts department's commendation ceremony, and then the school's celebration ceremony—Jiangcheng No. 1 Middle School put up a red banner more than ten meters long at the entrance.
The sign read, "Warmest congratulations to our student Lin Fan for winning the national martial arts championship with a score of 3000 jin (1,500 catties)." Each character was bigger than his head. The principal presented him with an "Outstanding Alumni Award" in front of the entire school, even though he had only graduated less than a month ago.
Then came the class reunion. Everyone who could come from the class showed up, and even a few people who didn't usually talk to him squeezed over to take a photo with him.
Lin Fan maintained a polite smile throughout. Compared to the exhaustion he had from dozens of sparring matches when he was a prospective martial artist, taking photos and exchanging pleasantries with people was ten times more tiring than boxing.
Fortunately, he was a martial artist, and his physique at the peak of the Body Refinement Realm was not to be underestimated. Several days of continuous training had left him mentally exhausted, but his body could handle it.
The ones who truly couldn't take it anymore were Lin Jianguo and Zhou Lan. The two elderly people had never experienced anything like this before. Every day they were busy welcoming and seeing off guests, serving tea and water, cooperating with interviews, and dealing with superiors. After several rounds, their eyes were dark from exhaustion.
Lin Fan felt sorry for his parents, so for the last few days he simply turned down all invitations and told them to rest at home. He refused to open the door or see anyone who came.
After finally getting some peace and quiet, Lin Fan received a call from Zhao Xiaoyue.
"Lin Fan! Are you free now? Can you finally catch your breath?" Zhao Xiaoyue's voice was still as crisp and cheerful as ever, like a can of soda just taken out of the refrigerator on a summer day.
"I just saw off the last group of reporters, my ears are practically calloused." Lin Fan leaned back on the sofa, tilting his head, holding his phone between his fingers, and twirling a pen in his hand.
"Come to my house for a visit. My parents keep talking about you. They said they made you some pork ribs, and if you don't come soon, the ribs will fall apart."
Lin Fan chuckled and agreed.
Zhao Xiaoyue's villa was still the same. The flowers in the yard were in full bloom, and several clumps of roses were blooming riotously in the flower bed. The force measuring instrument stood quietly on the bluestone ground next to it. Last time, he was caught red-handed by Sun Hao and his group in front of this instrument.
As soon as he entered the door, Zhao's mother beamed with joy, cutting fruit and serving snacks while muttering, "You've lost weight, you must not be eating properly." Zhao's father came out of the study with an unusually warm smile on his face, patted Lin Fan on the shoulder, and said, "Not bad, you've made Jiangcheng proud."
Lin Fan and Zhao Xiaoyue sat under the trellis in the villa's courtyard, surrounded by dense grapevines. Sunlight filtered through the leaves, casting dappled patterns of light and shadow on the table. Two glasses of chilled watermelon juice sat beside them, a fine layer of water droplets clinging to the outside of the glasses.
The two chatted casually, talking about the college entrance examination, their grades, and Wuhan University in Shanghai—Zhao Xiaoyue's admission notice had also arrived, and they were both going to Wuhan University in Shanghai, where they would be alumni.
Zhao Xiaoyue smiled brightly when she talked about this, saying that if she couldn't keep up with the martial arts classes in college, she could ask him for tutoring.
As they were chatting, Zhao Xiaoyue suddenly seemed to remember something, put down her juice glass, and said with a hint of probing in her voice, "By the way, Sun Hao wants to invite you to his house for a visit."
Lin Fan paused, his hand holding the cup still. Sun Hao. The name made him subconsciously frown.
He didn't have a good impression of this person. From the words "stay away from Zhao Xiaoyue" at the banquet, to the sarcastic remarks in the martial arts class, to the deliberate harassment outside the examination hall, and the lesson he taught by Du Fei at the martial arts school, every single thing was enough for him to cross the name "Sun Hao" off his social list.
"No need," Lin Fan shook his head, his tone indifferent.
Zhao Xiaoyue hesitated for a moment, then pushed her cup forward: "The call was from Sun Hao's father, not Sun Hao himself. His father was very sincere, saying he wanted to ease the tension between you."
She paused, then added, "You don't need to worry about any danger. I'll go with you."
Danger? Lin Fan wasn't worried about that. His current status—national martial arts champion, breaking a twelve-year-old record, a key seed from Shanghai Martial Arts University, and personally commended by the Martial Arts Department—was more effective than any wealthy family background.
If the Sun family father and son dared to do anything to him, he wouldn't even need to lift a finger; the martial arts department and the two major martial arts schools would be able to raze the Sun family's villa to the ground.
"Alright." Lin Fan put down his cup, glanced at Zhao Xiaoyue, and said, "Then I'll give you face and go to his house."
……
Two days later, a black minivan pulled up in front of the Sun family villa.
The Sun family's house was located in a wealthy area of Jiangcheng, three blocks away from Zhao Xiaoyue's house, in an area where detached villas were clustered together.
But the style here is completely different from Zhao Xiaoyue's home—Zhao's villa is modern and technological, with large glass curtain walls and simple lines, and the latest military force measuring instrument is placed in the yard.
The Sun family's villa is in the style of classical Chinese architecture, with blue bricks and gray tiles. Two stone lions stand in front of the gate, and copper nails are inlaid on the vermilion gate. Several old camphor trees grow along the courtyard wall, their canopies blocking out the sun and shading half the street.
When Lin Fan and Zhao Xiaoyue got out of the van, the grand display of the Sun family surprised him. Sun's father stood at the front, wearing a perfectly pressed suit and gleaming leather shoes.
Sun's mother stood beside him, wearing an elegant cheongsam. Her smile was polite, but she seemed a little nervous. Behind them stood several butlers and servants, lined up neatly, as if welcoming some important person on an inspection tour.
Sun Hao stood at the very back, wearing a white shirt with the collar buttoned up meticulously. His posture was somewhat stiff, and the moment his gaze met Lin Fan's, the corner of his mouth twitched unnaturally, as if he was trying to force a smile but couldn't quite manage it.
"Lin Fan! Welcome, welcome! I've heard so much about you!" Mr. Sun stepped forward and grasped Lin Fan's right hand tightly with both of his, his smile as warm as if he were welcoming an old comrade-in-arms he hadn't seen for many years.
"Uncle Sun, you're too kind." Lin Fan nodded slightly, his tone polite but not overly warm. He was neither arrogant nor deliberately obsequious, just like a guest visiting an ordinary classmate's home.
He nodded when he was asked to nod, shook hands when he was asked to shake hands, and then withdrew his hands, his gaze naturally sweeping over the interior of the villa.
The group passed through the foyer and entered the main hall of the villa. The interior decoration of the Sun family's house was consistent with the classical style of the exterior—dark solid wood furniture, several landscape paintings and calligraphy hanging on the walls, and a set of purple clay teaware on the coffee table.
But what attracted Lin Fan's attention the most was not these things, but the two rows of antique display shelves standing against the walls on both sides of the main hall.
The display shelves were filled with antiques: blue and white porcelain vases, bronze tripods, jade carvings, lacquer screens, boxes of ancient coins, and several yellowed scrolls of ancient books... Each piece was spotless and gleamed with a warm luster under the warm yellow spotlights, clearly a carefully maintained collection.
These items are quite special to be placed in the hall of a martial arts family as decorations. Ordinary people might think it's just pretentious, but Lin Fan knows that the more a family has practiced martial arts for generations, the more they understand the value of certain treasures.
A thought struck him. A month ago, at Zhao Xiaoyue's birthday party, the Bodhi seed Zhao Xiaoyue wore was a treasure.
The Bodhi seed caused a dramatic change in his martial soul after he touched it—the woman who had been asleep for three years opened her eyes for the first time. Although it was only for a moment, that moment completely changed the trajectory of his life.
The strength of 3000 jin, the title of national martial arts champion, and the competition between two top martial arts schools—all of this started from that moment.
Could similar items be hidden among these antiques?
Lin Fan unconsciously slowed his pace. His gaze slowly swept across the antique shelves, from the blue and white porcelain vase to the bronze tripod, from the jade carvings to the ancient book scrolls.
His martial spirit floated quietly within his body, without any reaction. But he wasn't in a hurry—before he touched the Bodhi seed last time, his martial spirit hadn't given any warning either; it was only when his fingers actually touched the bead that a thunderclap exploded deep within his mind.
"Lin Fan, this way please, the tea is ready." Father Sun led the way, greeting him warmly.
Lin Fan withdrew his gaze and followed. But his eyes lingered on the antiques, and he silently reserved a place for them in his heart. This trip to the Sun family today might bring unexpected gains.