The aroma of Longjing tea lingered in the air of the jade pavilion, mingling with the scent of recent rain drifting from the imperial gardens. There, in a place where silence was a rule of etiquette, two men stood in stark contrast.
The government representative, wearing an impeccable Western suit and nervously adjusting his fine-rimmed glasses, looked like a statue of anxiety. Across from him, Liu Zhigang — the pillar of the Chinese Martial Arts Association —seemed to merge with the landscape itself.
The official poured the tea with slightly trembling hands.
"Your Excellency..." the government man began, clearing his throat. "Honestly, the leadership is in an uproar. This is a matter of national security. Was sending Li Weizin truly the best choice? His track record... well, you know. He doesn't exactly have a reputation that inspires confidence."
Liu Zhigang let out a short laugh, a sound reminiscent of pebbles rolling in a stream. He brought the porcelain cup to his lips, closing his eyes to savor the flavor before responding.
"Oh, I know my pupil's reputation better than any intelligence report could ever describe. He is an unparalleled good-for-nothing. A first-class loafer."
The official blinked, confused.
"Then... why send him? If he is a risk, why trust the boy to him?"
"Because Li Weizin is a paradox," Zhigang explained, his gaze lost in the city lights in the distance. "He is, simultaneously, the worst and the best choice this country has to offer. Had he been born in Ancient China, or during the turbulent Three Kingdoms Period, legendary figures like Lu Bu or Cao Cao would be remembered today as mere hardworking amateurs next to him. His talent for combat isn't something taught—it's like a force of nature."
"A talent of that level... and you call him a good-for-nothing?" The man in the suit was incredulous.
"Exactly. He possesses a fatal flaw: he was born in the wrong era." The Grandmaster sighed, a hint of genuine disappointment crossing his aged face. "In the past, he would have been forced to fight to survive. Today? He prefers to spend his time gaming, binge-watching Japanese animation, and reading fantasy web novels until dawn. He doesn't train because he finds sweat 'aesthetically unpleasant.' That is why, among the masters, he is known as the Genius of Stagnation."
Meanwhile, miles away, the "Genius of Stagnation" stepped through the airport's automatic doors, carrying only a crossbody bag and a pair of high-end headphones around his neck.
Li Weizin stopped on the sidewalk, brushing back the hair that insisted on falling over his eyes. He breathed in the humid air of the region, looking toward the hills where the target village lay hidden.
"If I run, I can cross the fields in a straight line and be there in less than ten minutes..." he calculated mentally, visualizing the ideal physical trajectory.
But soon, a drop of cold sweat rolled down his temple at the thought of the effort.
"...But that would be far too exhausting. What a waste of caloric energy."
He looked at the line of vehicles, and his hand shot up almost by instinct.
"Hey, taxi!" he shouted with a lazy grin.
As he climbed into the car, the air conditioning welcomed him like an embrace. Weizin slumped into the back seat with the lack of composure of a teenager on vacation, closing his eyes as the driver started the engine.
"After all, what's the rush?" he justified to his own conscience, which still occasionally whispered his master's scoldings. "The brat I've come to fetch is the grandson of the Jade Dragon. The blood of a legend runs in those veins... he surely knows how to handle himself for another thirty minutes. If fate wants him to be kidnapped before I arrive, who am I to fight the cosmos?"
He pulled out his phone, opened a reading app, and dove into a chapter of his favorite novel. The fate of the world and the boy's safety could wait; the story's protagonist, after all, was about to face the Monarch of Destruction!