Hua clearly understood now—Shenzhou martial arts could not save the people of Shenzhou.
From childhood, Hua had been different from other girls.
Other daughters liked jewelry and dresses, chatting about dollhouses and outfits. Hua, on the other hand, was captivated by the solid, flesh-striking fights in martial arts films.
Perhaps one's environment shaped the person. Hua had grown up in her father's martial arts school, immersed in its strong atmosphere. She admired the chivalry and strength of martial artists and hoped to become like the heroic swordswomen in novels such as Legend of the Mystic Fairy—valiant and graceful, wearing a bamboo hat, carrying a sword case on her back, roaming the jianghu, saving people from disaster, and earning the love of the common folk.
As for her father's oft-repeated saying, "The greatest heroes fight for the country and the people," Hua did not harbor such grand ambitions. She only wanted to use the martial skills she had learned to help those she wished to help, to punch down every ugliness in the world.
"I am the guardian of Shenzhou, sovereign of the blackened ashes."
"Hmph, have you arrived, my destined nemesis, evil dragon Tasrak? A thousand years of struggle ends today!"
Standing atop the jungle gym in the park, Hua declared this to the children below who were fighting over a toy.
She covered her left eye with her hand, then snapped her fingers open dramatically.
"Behold! Grand Illusory Dream—All-Manifesting Frenzied Judgment Eye!"
Feeling the mysterious pressure emanating from her, the children below stopped fighting and scattered in a panic.
"Hmph. Have you retreated after sensing my hidden primordial power?"
"Little Hua, time to come home for dinner!" her father called from afar.
"Oz, my familiar, bring forth a feast worthy of my appetite!"
Clearly, such flamboyant behavior did not help Hua blend in with her peers.
After entering middle school, she restrained her conduct considerably and became much more composed. Yet she still found it difficult to fit into ordinary social circles.
Leaving aside the lack of shared hobbies, Hua trained in martial arts with her father every day. He kept her under strict control—no arcade halls, no ramen shops. (To prevent his daughter from relapsing into delusions.)
Her appetite was far larger than that of her peers, and to maintain balanced nutrition, she brought her own meals. After one girl once discovered this and spread it around as a joke, Hua never dared to eat with others again.
Her strength far exceeded that of other slender girls. During physical education classes, she frequently injured her classmates by accident. As a result, the other girls avoided her as though she were some kind of calamity beast.
Admittedly, Hua had sharp features and a handsome appearance, yet no one her age became her friend.
In the end, Hua was alone.
Very few people ever spoke to her.
Even though the senior disciples at the martial arts school praised her as a prodigy with the bearing of a grandmaster, Hua still felt uneasy.
She knew that choosing to practice martial arts with her father had been her own decision.
But now, though she wanted to give up, she could not bring herself to say it.
Her father had always said that a martial artist must not be defeated by setbacks.
Hua was aware of her own immaturity. She looked forward to change in the future, yet lacked the courage to truly hope for it.
She could only attend school step by step.
Train step by step.
And then, step by step, await whatever came next.
Change did come.
It simply did not move in a positive direction.
Modern martial arts schools declined. One by one, the dojos run by masters around them shut down. In contrast, gyms rose in popularity.
Hua did not understand why those foreign trainers with unsteady steps could earn fortunes every day. When passing her father's school, they would often sneer, while flexing exaggerated muscles built from protein powder.
One day, two trainers even bullied a student who had just finished class at the martial arts school. Hua stepped in to stop them, only to be met with their fists.
Fortunately, her years of martial arts training had not been in vain. Within a few moves, she subdued the two burly men, leaving them clutching their stomachs as they stormed off angrily.
However, the student she had protected with her "cool kung fu" never returned to the martial arts school.
Instead, Hua received disciplinary punishment from her own school. She had been wearing her school uniform when she fought back against the foreign trainers. No one knew whether it was the two trainers who reported her—or some passerby enamored with foreign worship.
When foreigners bullied fellow citizens of Shenzhou, people turned a blind eye.
When a person of Shenzhou fought back, those same people struck without hesitation.
Hua had encountered far too many such people.
Everything was so strange.
Yet so real.
Real enough that Hua clearly understood—even the strongest martial arts had no place in today's land of Shenzhou.
Her father seemed to realize this as well.
He stopped restricting her in all aspects and, through certain connections, transferred her to a high school in Sapphire City. He hoped she could start anew, no longer bound by her past in martial arts.
He had already delayed his daughter's life for too long.
"Stop practicing martial arts, Hua. Pursue scholarship, go into business, politics, or the military—that's where the future lies. In this world, you need capital to have a way out."
Hua arrived in this unfamiliar city.
But she felt lost.
Not because of the new environment.
But because of life itself.
Freed from restraint and from her only pursuit, she no longer knew what her future was.
All she could do was continue to discipline herself according to her father's former expectations—complete her studies step by step, then find a job step by step that could support herself and her hospitalized father.
It seemed like there was a future.
And yet, there was none.
The times changed too quickly, and she had already become an antique—waiting to be eliminated.
High school in Sapphire City was no different from before.
Though Hua did her utmost to conceal her differences, the aura of an old relic clung to her, refusing to let others accept her.
Her classmates' gazes tormented her.
She did not know how to interact with those her age. Every conversation felt like public execution. She feared her "dullness" would be discovered, yet also feared her "difference" would be exposed.
Sigh... I don't want to attend physical education class.
Although her athletic performance was excellent, that only made her stand out even more.
The martial arts she had once trained in with pride now brought her not pride, but deep inferiority.
She was afraid her classmates would find out she practiced martial arts—as though martial arts itself symbolized backward feudalism and deserved scorn.
The whispering of her classmates always sounded like mocking murmurs.
At least, that was how it felt to her.
Recently, however, there had been small changes.
For example, tonight's dinner—she chose to eat noodles in the city after school.
In the past, her father would never have allowed it. Noodles, being starch-heavy, could easily lead a martial artist with her appetite to consume excess calories. Extra fat would hinder combat.
"The noodles are really good... If I exercise restraint, it should be fine, right? Once a month... no, once every half month."
By the time she left the ramen shop, it was already late. Darkness had fallen.
Hua walked slowly toward her dormitory.
"Ahh!"
A girl's scream rang out from around the corner.
Hua's expression changed. She quickened her pace and turned into the dead-end alley.
There, she saw a strange figure about to attack a lively-looking girl with white hair and dark skin.
"Stop!"
Assuming it was a lecher committing sexual assault, Hua stepped forward in a flash and positioned herself in front of the girl, raising her martial stance.
Yet the staggering "pervert" seemed deaf to her shout.
His bloodless face made Hua's heart jolt.
"What is this...?"