Chapter 15 — Satellite Channel

As for Old Man Wei, once he learned that Wei Zhao was cultivating the Xuanyuan Dragon-Taming Art, he had by and large adopted a stance of tacit consent — neither instructing nor interfering, letting Wei Zhao develop as he pleased.

Yet after cultivating the Xuanyuan Dragon-Taming Art, though Wei Zhao felt his constitution had risen markedly, he could see little change in his martial skill; by no means was he a match for Old Man Wei.

Old Man Wei was like a boss in a game dungeon: when Wei Zhao grew stronger, he grew stronger; when Wei Zhao grew weaker, he grew weaker too. It was a thing that left Wei Zhao thoroughly exasperated.

If he had to name any change in himself, it was that his senses had grown far keener than before — in hearing and in sight, a shade sharper than they once had been.

Day after day, year after year, with no one to guide him, Wei Zhao had more or less cultivated the first stage of the Xuanyuan Dragon-Taming Art to a rough completion.

In the blink of an eye the five-year term arrived. It was another night of the full moon, and Wei Zhao once more entered the stone door of that cave at the foot of West Star Mountain. To his regret, however, this time he did not open the stone door behind the great hall.

The outcome did not surprise Wei Zhao, for he knew that his first stage, the Heavenly Silkworm stage, had not broken through; after reaching the middle phase, it had made no progress at all.

He had told Old Man Wei of his plight, but Old Man Wei had only smiled and shaken his head, making clear there was nothing he could do.

The second five-year term was almost upon him, and the anxiety in Wei Zhao's heart grew sharper by the day. All these years, and he was still stalled at the middle phase of the first stage. If things went on this way, he would return empty-handed once again.

By now Wei Zhao understood that the Xuanyuan Dragon-Taming Art he was cultivating was not a martial art at all, but a secret manual of the sort used for the cultivation of the Dao. It sounded shocking to the ear, but Wei Zhao knew that this, in truth, was what he was practicing.

And when he thought back to Old Man Wei's strange behavior on that first night of the full moon, Wei Zhao even suspected that the whole thing had been premeditated — a trap deliberately laid, to kick him down West Star Mountain and into that stone door. Otherwise, why should Old Man Wei, of all times, have chosen to test his skill in the dead of night on a full-moon night?

And even if he meant to test him, there was no need to run all the way up to the mountaintop, was there? And even if he went up to the mountaintop, he need not have struck with deadly force, need he? And even if he struck with deadly force, he need not have kicked him, by such a coincidence, right to the mouth of the cave, need he?

Fine — even granting that he had been kicked to the cave mouth by coincidence, why did Old Man Wei wait until he had come out of the cave before seeking him out? And after Wei Zhao told him all he had seen and heard, the indifferent look on Old Man Wei's face was that of a man who had known it all along. Every last bit of it made Wei Zhao deeply suspicious.

Yet whenever Wei Zhao raised his suspicions with Old Man Wei, Old Man Wei gave no answer. In time Wei Zhao could not be bothered to ask; deliberate or not, he would cultivate his own...

When Wei Zhao came out of his meditative state, the sky beyond the window had already turned the pale white of a fish's belly. Wei Zhao shook his head helplessly. Each time he finished his practice he felt some small progress, and his whole body felt fresh and clear, yet still there was no great breakthrough.

He hurried to the bathroom, took a cold shower and washed up, rinsing the sweat from his body, then pulled on the No. 1 Middle School uniform and walked out of the room.

The whole villa was still quiet. Wei Zhao looked up toward the stairs — the two girls were probably still asleep. He sat down on the sofa, turned on the sixty-inch LCD television in the living room, muted the sound, and began to watch.

A big TV really was a pleasure. Wei Zhao lay back on the sofa at his ease; this was the first time he had ever watched such a splendid television. Back home, apart from a knockoff netbook that could show a few flickering images, there had been nothing but an ordinary twenty-five-inch flat-screen CRT.

"Achoo!" Wei Zhao sneezed. He had not expected that even his constitution could catch a cold. But then he reflected that he had always lived in the south, and this was the north; though it was summer, the difference between day and night temperatures was considerable, so a bit of trouble adjusting to the climate was only natural.

Wei Zhao pulled two tissues from the box on the coffee table, wiped his nose, and tossed them aside.

But it was early in the morning, and most channels had no programming. Wei Zhao pressed the channel button on the remote in his hand. He pressed for quite a while, yet the television did not respond, still showing the same big globe and the words "no signal."

"Damn, this remote can't be out of batteries, can it?" Wei Zhao muttered. Then he thought again — no, that could not be right. Had he not just used this very remote to turn the television on?

At that thought, Wei Zhao looked more carefully at the television. So the villa had satellite television installed, and changing channels required the remote for the set-top box; the television's own remote could control only the power and the volume.

Though Wei Zhao came from a mountain village, Old Man Wei had bought him a knockoff netbook, and through the internet he had picked up a good deal about the technology and knowledge of the outside world, so he did not make too much of a fool of himself now.

He searched around and, sure enough, found the satellite set-top box's remote beneath the coffee table. Wei Zhao picked it up and began flipping through the channels.

"Satellite TV really is great — so many channels." Wei Zhao had gone through dozens of channels and had yet to find a single repeat.

"This channel is an adult channel and has been locked with a parental lock. Please enter the password. Default password: 000000."

When Wei Zhao switched to one particular channel, this line of text appeared on the screen.

No way. These two girls had an adult channel in their house? Wei Zhao had long heard that a "big dish" could pick up certain adult programs, though he had never actually seen one.

The widow Wang at the head of the village had satellite television installed too, but the channels she could get were no more than the free provincial satellite stations; a paid adult channel like this was out of the question.

An itch stirred in Wei Zhao's heart. He wondered whether the password had been set by Gu Pengzhan, or by that spoiled young lady Gu Mengyao, or perhaps by Shen Yushu. Mm, very likely — that girl looked flirtatious enough, and she talked in a pretty forward way too... Wei Zhao thought, his mind running wild.

He casually entered the password: "123456." The television promptly informed him that the password was incorrect and asked him to enter it again.

"888888," Wei Zhao tried again. The television still informed him that the password was incorrect and asked him to enter it again.

Wei Zhao scratched his head, and this time entered "000000." This time no incorrect-password notice appeared; instead the screen seemed to freeze, and he could not tell whether it was verifying the password or had simply crashed.

Just as Wei Zhao was about to press some other key at random to see what would happen, a picture appeared on the television.