Mastering the Sword Manual, sweeping across the globe

A menacing atmosphere lingered on the river, emanating from the location of a bridge.

Looking down, the bridge was congested with traffic, forming a long, stagnant line, with the red and green car bodies reflecting a blinding light in the sunlight.

The bridge was packed with people, a dense crowd, one after another, holding onto the railings and looking down.

Further away, the walkways on both sides of the river were also crowded with people. Some were holding up their phones, some were standing on tiptoe, and some were squeezing into the crowd while holding children.

The entire bridge is like a thorn nailed to the surface of the river; the surrounding blood vessels are blocked, congested, swollen, and unable to breathe.

Zhang Qiliang hovered in mid-air, raised his right hand, and drew a sword incantation with two fingers together:

Why must we have known each other before we meet?

A dozen seconds later, Zhang Qiliang landed on the roof of a sparsely populated residential building.

The footsteps were very light; they entered through the iron gate on the rooftop and quickly appeared on the street.

Zhang Qiliang secured the vase in the crook of his arm and walked towards the bridge.

The noise of the crowd grew closer.

The traffic lights at the bridgehead had completely malfunctioned, and traffic from all four directions was jammed together, unable to move. Some people turned off their cars and stood by the car doors, peering into the middle of the bridge; others rode electric bikes through the gaps, getting cursed at by drivers stuck behind them, but didn't retaliate, instead tiptoeing to look towards the crowd.

Further away, the sirens were still blaring, but no one was making way for it anymore.

Zhang Qiliang squeezed through the crowd, the vase pressed against his chest, being pushed forward by the flow of people.

People around were talking, their voices were very low, but because there were so many people, it was a buzzing sound, like a pot of water that was about to boil.

"I heard it happened in the early hours of the morning..."

"Dawn? Then why is it only now—"

"Doesn't it take time to rescue people? The water is so fast, and it's pitch black..."

"Did you catch it?"

"The person? The one who tried to save him wasn't found. The one who jumped into the river, though, was pulled up."

Someone nearby interjected, "What rescue? Who's rescuing people?"

The person who spoke earlier lowered his voice: "Assistant. In the early hours of the morning, a woman tried to jump into the river. The yamen received a report and three officials rushed over. Two of them climbed over the railing to pull her up, but one of them lost his footing and fell in."

"They fell?!"

"The current was too strong. And it was the middle of the night, so we couldn't see clearly. My colleague chased after him for over a hundred meters on the shore, but couldn't catch him."

"More than a hundred meters, that's... the Dragon Trapped Pool!" someone gasped.

"Has the person been found?"

"...It was found around noon. It's at the mouth of the dam at the downstream hydroelectric power station. When it was found..."

The person who spoke shook their head and didn't continue.

Zhang Qiliang walked through the crowd to the bridge railing.

The river under the bridge was faster than he had expected; it was a murky yellow, swirling and carrying withered branches and foam downstream.

A lifeline that hadn't been taken away was still tied next to the bridge pier, half of it submerged in the water and stretched taut by the current.

Several puddles of water remained on the stone steps along the riverbank, having spread from the river surface all the way to the railing. Most of the water had dried, leaving only dark marks.

A middle-aged man in blue overalls was squatting under the bridge railing, tidying up a lifeboat.

A young man stood next to him, a cigarette between his fingers, the ash burning long but not flicked off.

"I heard the tutoring class is from the South Detention Center?" the young man asked.

"Hmm." The middle-aged man nodded. "From the South Detention Center."

"What was it called again?"

"Ren Yingxiong," the middle-aged man said, "born in 1994. Only thirty-two."

"So young..." The young man's cigarette trembled, and the ash fell to the ground, shattering into small, grayish-white pieces. "You haven't even been working for many years..."

“Who says otherwise? I heard it’s only been three years.” The middle-aged man’s voice was low. “He took the entrance exam for the preparatory class the year before last… and was even recognized as an outstanding student last year.”

As he spoke, the middle-aged man finished tidying up a piece of rope and sighed, "His family is from Nanzhen. His mother is in poor health and has been taking medicine. His father passed away the year before last, leaving only the mother and son. His wife..." He paused, "...and his wife is just pregnant, only a little over two months along."

No one speaks.

The water under the bridge was still flowing, rushing and mingling with the buzzing of the crowd, creating a murky, muffled sound.

Zhang Qiliang stood by the bridge railing, the vase in his arm pressed against his chest, the soil still damp, the coolness seeping through his clothes.

He glanced down downstream; the river curved in the distance, blocked by a row of gray buildings.

There were other people talking nearby. It was an auntie carrying a shopping basket, gesturing to the people next to her: "I heard that the woman's whole body was hanging outside the railing, with only her two hands holding on—the tutor ran over, didn't even catch his breath, and flipped her over the railing in one go..."

"That young man was so naive... He was squatting on that narrow embankment, right where the water was—"

She raised her hand, squinted, and made a gesture even narrower than a fingernail, then quickly pulled it back.

"Seeing his colleague already pulling the woman up there, he squatted down and tried to lift her up... he lifted her with all his might, and finally got her up, but he ran out of strength and couldn't stand anymore—"

At this point, the old woman's voice choked up: "Only thirty-two."

The person next to him didn't respond.

The wind blowing from the river onto the bridge carried the smell of fish and an indescribable coolness.

One life may have been a bit reckless, but after all... it saved another life.

Why is there so much hostility?

After glancing at the little seedling in his arms, Zhang Qiliang turned around and walked out of the crowd.

Some people made way for him, others glanced at him, and then turned back to continue staring at the river.

When we reached the bridgehead, a young auxiliary police officer in uniform, soaking wet, was squatting next to the police car, head down, his shoulders trembling.

Standing beside him was an older man, wearing formal epaulettes, who put his hand on his shoulder: "Take it easy, Xiao Hu, this isn't your fault... You ran two kilometers and searched all night, you did your best..."

"But...but..."

"Try to think positively... It was Ren who wanted to get over this... That's just how he is, he pushes himself too hard..."

"But……"

"No buts!" The official epaulettes' tone became sterner: "Go back now and get some rest... Tomorrow... Tomorrow... take a break too..."

"But, instructor... that woman..." Hearing this, Xiao Hu not only received no comfort, but instead burst into tears: "That woman..."

"She can definitely swim!"

114 figured it out

"what happened?"

In his grief and indignation, Xiao Hu suddenly heard a question coming from beside him.

He turned his head to the side, and a young man was standing next to him.

Wearing an ordinary T-shirt and ordinary trousers, with a bluish-gray vase tucked into the crook of his arm, inside which was a small seedling with just a few tender leaves sprouting.

This outfit wasn't particularly eye-catching among the crowd of onlookers on the bridge, but at this moment—next to the soaking wet tutor and the silent instructor—it seemed somewhat out of place.

"Who are you?" Xiao Hu's voice was still choked with sobs.

“Passersby,” the young man said calmly, “you just said that woman can swim, what’s going on?”

Xiao Hu opened his mouth.

This kind of question involves both the details of the case and the privacy of the parties involved, so it is definitely impossible to disclose it to the public.

But it's okay, there are just too many people around.

In less than two seconds, someone next to him had already answered for him.

“What else could it be?” A man in a gray polo shirt approached. He was in his early forties, with a tanned face that looked like a local. He spoke in a loud and aggressive voice: “That bitch is playing tricks on people!”

As he spoke, the middle-aged man glared fiercely at the bridge railing, even though there was no one there anymore.

"She said it herself?" the young man asked.

"Does she need to say it?" The man in the gray polo shirt raised his voice, pointing to the bridge and then to the riverbank, gesturing to encompass half the river. "For something this big, plenty of people around here know her! She has a gym membership, a swimming pool membership, and yesterday she was posting pictures on her WeChat Moments—'That hot bastard is at the swimming pool! Wearing a bikini! Nine photos!' She posted them herself!"

Someone nearby clicked their tongue. It was a middle-aged man wearing glasses, standing at the back of the crowd: "There's a difference between a swimming pool and natural water..."

"Pah!" The man in the gray polo shirt turned around abruptly and spat fiercely on the ground. Every word seemed to be squeezed out from between his teeth, both harsh and urgent: "I've seen this bitch before... just a month or two ago, also on this river—not on the bridge, but a little further down the riverbank... that time it was even more outrageous, she had already walked into the water."

“It was around 11 or 12 at night. A few of my buddies were drinking at a nearby night market stall. When they heard a noise, they went over to check. One of the guys who could swim saw someone struggling in the water, so he took off his jacket and jumped in.”

"Who knew—once I got into the water, I realized I couldn't reach her no matter what I did."

“When I swam to the left, she would drift a little to the right, and when I swam to the right again, she would drift a little forward. She was always just a few meters away, but I just couldn’t reach her. By the time my buddy realized what was happening, she was already more than ten meters away from the shore.”

At this point, the middle-aged man took a breath, and the entire surrounding area became quiet, even the sound of the water under the bridge became clearer.

"My buddy is a really good swimmer. As for his character—to be honest, if he sees a life at stake, he'll definitely try to save it. But if he's in trouble himself, then I'm sorry… He quickly turned around and swam back."

His voice suddenly became very soft.

"The fun is about to begin... I just got to the shore, and before I even had a chance to pick up my pants, that bitch had already come ashore."

"Impossible, right?" "Really?" "What you're saying is too creepy..."

"Impossible, right?" The man in the gray polo shirt widened his eyes, his face flushed red, and the veins on his neck throbbed. "Damn it, thank goodness someone filmed it!"

As he spoke, the middle-aged man suddenly pulled his phone out of his pocket, tapped the screen a few times, and pulled up a video.

He held up his phone, and people immediately surrounded him.

Zhang Qiliang also took a slight step to the side to find a better angle.

The video has started playing.

The scene begins on a riverbank, with dim streetlights and dappled light reflecting off the water.

There was a figure splashing on the river.

The water splashed quite a bit, and her arms slapped the surface of the water repeatedly, sometimes sinking and sometimes floating. Her hair was scattered on the water, making it impossible to see her face.

Along the riverbank, a few people had already gathered, some squatting by the water looking ahead, others pacing back and forth nearby, as if searching for something.

An old man in a white vest pulled a long bamboo pole from a nearby pile of debris, probed the water, and then pulled it back. A young man squatted on the bank, tested the water depth with his hand, stood up, took two steps back, rubbed his hands, and did not go into the water.

The people on the river were still struggling, their voices coming out intermittently, making it impossible to tell whether they were shouting or choking on water.

The camera swayed slightly, and someone off-screen shouted, "Someone's coming! Someone's coming!"

The screen suddenly shifted.

A group of people were running towards the night market stall.

Five or six people, seven or eight people, more and more people rushed out from under the plastic shed, knocking over stools, tilting tables, and rolling beer bottles on the ground.

The man running in front was wearing a light-colored short-sleeved shirt. As he ran, he kept pulling the shirt down, and after a couple of tugs, the sleeve got stuck on his wrist and he finally managed to pull it off before casually tossing it to the ground.

The man's phone slipped out of his pocket, landed on the stone pavement, bounced, and the screen remained lit. He didn't turn around to pick it up.

He ran to the water's edge, kicked off his shoes, and jumped in.

With a "plop," water splashed up and hit the lens, blurring the image for a second.

The lens was wiped clean and then aimed back at the river.

The man was swimming towards the middle of the river, using the breaststroke. His movements weren't perfect, but he was moving very fast, swinging his arms quickly and splashing water constantly.

Those who arrived later crowded around the railing on the shore. Some shouted, "Be careful!" Others yelled, "Where's the pole? Where's the one from before?" Still others shouted, "Everyone take off your clothes and tie the rope quickly!"

The man gradually approached the figure struggling on the river, but for some reason, the figure was no longer in the same place. It drifted a distance towards the center of the river, getting further and further away from the shore.

In the video, you can vaguely see that her arms are still moving, but it's no longer the kind of haphazard splashing and struggling—the movements are very light and even, paddling gently underwater, with barely any splashes, while her body moves steadily forward.

Those who swam past chased after them.

The two people in the water were always a little distance apart, neither too long nor too short, but they just couldn't reach each other.

Someone on the shore shouted, "Come back! Enough! Come back!" The voice had changed tone, becoming urgent and shrill.

On the water, the man stopped, treaded the water a few times, looked up at the shore, thought for a moment, and then turned back to look ahead.

The person in front was still splashing around, slapping the water's surface with their arms, just like before, unhurriedly.

Someone on the shore shouted again: "Damn it, if we go any further, we'll be trapped in the Dragon Pool! Come back! You fucking come back now!"