Mecha and Sword

"Well, Ji is back. Where've you been the past few days, doting on some old lady?"

"Nonsense! Ji never meddles with those old ladies, unlike you, an old man who spends his days square dancing. Ji, how about a game of chess? Haven't played for days. I'll let you ahead by one rook."

"Pah, you, giving Ji one rook? Hasn't he always let you have rooks, knights, and cannons?"

In the green area of the residential community, a group of elderly men and women basking in the sun welcomed the sight of Ji Xinghe who had been missing for days. This was testament to Ji Xinghe's popularity in the community.

This popularity was based on Ji Xinghe being helpful to others, exemplary lifestyle even after his wife's death, and his very comfortable pension and retirement benefits.

"No can do, I am busy, you guys carry on."

Ji Xinghe made a quick response and rushed home. He didn't want to talk about his experiences over the past days, because it meant uttering those words again.

Telling Tu Yuan hadn't been easy and wasn't about gaining sympathy. He didn't want people to feel sorry for him, he only wanted revenge.

The elderly folks found his behavior peculiar.

"Ji is retired, what kind of business could he possibly have?"

"Exactly! What do we have to do? We can't do anything. Shall we go collect eggs? It's just a bus ride of 19 stops, changing three times."

"Why would you need those few eggs?"

"I don't, but aren't we idle otherwise?"

"True, let's go, let's go. It's going to be rush hour soon, the bus will be full."

"Nobody would dare not give up their seat to us."

"Yes, you are right there."

...

The house was deserted and monotonous, with no mess, only necessary items, and clean even after not being cleaned for ten days. In the living room, the furniture and appliances were neatly organized.

There were no forgotten food scraps in the garbage bin in the kitchen and no rotten food in the refrigerator. Instead of wallowing in the gloom of an empty house, Ji Xinghe headed straight for the kitchen and took out two cuts of beef steak he had marinated himself from the freezer. There couldn't be fewer than thirty similar pieces, all neatly packed– they were originally meant to be…

Now, Ji Xinghe would have to eat them by himself.

The pan was heated before butter was added. The vacuum-sealed packet of the steak was torn open and the steak was grasped by washed hands. Placed vertically, the steak was initially seared on the sides before being grilled. Both pieces were quickly cooked to well-done.

This method of cooking steak was not ideal, but Ji Xinghe preferred his beef well-done. If it weren't for Ji Chenxing's preference for steak, he would have chosen carrot beef stew, potato beef stew, or something as simple as red-braised beef.

He didn't use a knife and fork, as he wasn't one for western dining etiquette. The cutlery at home was bought for Ji Chenxing. Ji Xinghe simply used chopsticks to eat the steak in full pieces, biting powerfully and chewing vigorously, as if the steak was his sworn enemy.

Having not eaten properly for a few days, steak wasn't the best of choices for Ji Xinghe. Yet, his digestion and dentition were surprisingly robust, his mouth full of real teeth.

Despite his full head of black hair, Ji was indeed 65 years old and thus, had to pop in two digestion tablets to prevent any physical discomfort caused by indigestion, after he finished the steak.

He had to take care of his health for the upcoming conscription examination in seven days.

Despite feeling extremely tired, Ji Xinghe did not go to bed. He walked into his library instead. One wall was covered with well-organized books. Most of them were professional ones on machinery repairs and other school books for Ji Chenxing. Some other books were about piloting mecha, chosen by Ji Xinghe and bought for his son Ji Chenxing when he said he aspired to be a mecha warrior.

They were updated every year, filling the bookshelves. But, there was no fear of the shelves collapsing as they were built by Ji Xinghe, who had always displayed tremendous hands-on skills, although previously limited to car repairs.

In addition to the three walls of books, in front of the windowed wall, was a desk where Ji Chenxing studied growing up.

At the center of the library room, were only two items, an ergonomically designed chair connected to a power source and a helmet-like device as well as a pair of gloves with a metallic sheen.

This was the login hardware for Star Glory, which required a helmet and pair of gloves for interactive operations at the level of consciousness.

Mechas also contain consciousness interactive devices similar to these helmets, which allow users to control the Mechas more effectively. Compared to the initial voice commands and manual operation mode, this new mode gives the Mechas real life, enabling them to perform a variety of difficult movements.

However, because of this, the physical requirements for Mecha operators in the new era are extremely high. High difficulty Mecha maneuvers can cause an overloading phenomenon, quite like how fighter pilots many years ago would feel, once making super overburden maneuvers, at its mildest causing dizziness and nausea, at its worst knocking them unconscious or even causing sudden death.

No one would believe that 65-year-old Ji Xinghe could withstand it, in fact, he didn't believe it himself, but he wasn't afraid to die.

The last thing in the study was the wooden dummy, which he made himself and practiced on, as did Ji Chenxing.

But his dummy wasn't wooden, it was made of iron. Thirty years ago, Ji Xinghe stopped using wooden dummies; they broke as soon as he exerted force.

When he looked at the wooden dummy, Ji Xinghe recalled the sight of Ji Chenxing practicing on it, crying out in pain for the first time. Chenxing's frustrated voice seemed to resonate in his ears.

"Dad, I'm going to call the police, you are abusing a child."

"This isn't abuse, you want to be a Mecha warrior, don't you? This is helping you increase your combat capabilities so you can survive on the battlefield and kill more enemies."

"If I'm a Mecha warrior, why do I need martial arts? I'm sure my mecha has guns and high-frequency oscillating swords. Whoosh, just like cutting melons and vegetables."

"Son, do you know why Mechas are made in human form? Why all those animal-shaped Mecha designs were abandoned?"

"Why?"

"Because humans are the highest of creatures, and the human form is most suitable for battle."

"But a human can't beat a tiger."

"That's because there's a considerable gap between human and tiger in terms of power, speed, and defensive power. However, if it's a battle between a human-form Mecha and a tiger-form Mecha when power, speed and defensive power are equal, the human-form Mecha is sure to win."

"Why?"

"Because....a human-form can utilize various weapons like spears, swords, daggers, halberds, and firearms, while a tiger only has teeth and claws, or perhaps its tail."

"Then I'll make the tiger's claws into knives, its tail into a long spear, and its mouth a cannon."

"Hahahaha...then your tiger Mecha wouldn't be able to run."

"It can fly, I'll add a flight engine to it."

"That's not unreasonable, but before you can achieve that, you need to learn martial arts with me, including the Eight Chop Sword Skill and Six Stick Skills."

"I won't learn martial arts, I won't punch people with my Mecha's fists. I'll learn sword techniques so my Mecha can slash with a sword. I won't learn stick skills either, you can't kill an enemy Ape with a stick, it doesn't have a gun head, I'll learn about guns."

"Who said a stick without a gun head can't kill? You need to learn boxing too because when your Mecha has no weapons, you only have your fists. Even when you're without your Mecha, you still only have your fists."

"I won't learn, I'm going to call the police, you're abusing me."

If I didn't teach him Wing Chun, if I didn't support him to fulfill his dream and go to a military academy...

With a thud, Ji Xinghe's fist struck the wooden dummy. The dummy rotated and its iron rods hit towards his body, but he blocked them with his elbow and knee.

Because the earlier punch was a bit too strong, the two rods striking him were quite painful, his fist hurt as well.

But Ji Xinghe felt relieved, as if the physical pain could alleviate his emotional torment. In this house full of memories related to Chenxing, how could he not feel pain?

After eating a full meal, he practised martial art to aid digestion. His 65-year-old body exploded with unprecedented strength within a small space.

He applied medicinal creams to treat the bruises he got from training, drank medicinal alcohol that aided vitality and blood, and drank enough to make him pass out so that he wouldn't dream, wouldn't wake up from a dream, and wouldn't wake to find his pillow wet from tears.

On the seventh day, the iron dummy suddenly broke, as if it couldn't bear the burden any longer after thirty years, or maybe it was a sign that Ji Xinghe's martial arts had improved.

The reality was probably the former, but Ji Xinghe hoped it was the latter.

A phrase he had once told Ji Chenxing echoed in his mind: "Son, don't believe in limits, because if you don't believe in them, they don't exist."