I deliver food in a bizarre world

"Teacher," Chen Mo greeted respectfully from the courtyard gate.

The old man slowly stopped his movements and turned around.

His face was thin and wrinkled, but his eyes were surprisingly bright, like an ancient well with a cold pool, sharp and unparalleled, as if they could pierce through people's hearts.

His gaze first fell on Chen Mo, and he nodded slightly before looking at Chen Xing beside him.

When Chen Xing was swept by that gaze, he subconsciously straightened his back, and the husky-like wildness on his body instantly disappeared, making him extremely docile.

"Teacher, this is my younger brother, Chen Xing," Chen Mo introduced.

"Greetings, Master!" Chen Xing bowed quickly, his voice much more respectful than usual.

Song Zhuoqing didn't say anything, but walked to the stone table next to him, sat down, picked up the purple clay teapot, and slowly poured three cups of tea.

The tea was a bright orange-yellow color, with wisps of steam rising from it.

"Sit down." He pointed to the stone bench opposite him.

Chen Mo pulled the slightly reserved Chen Xing to sit down.

"Can you bring the knife?" Master Song took a sip of tea, his voice calm yet carrying an underlying pressure.

Chen Mo took off his backpack, unfastened his Tang sword, and presented it with both hands: "I brought it."

Master Song took the knife, his fingers brushing against the cold scabbard, his eyes narrowing slightly.

He slowly drew a section of the blade, the gleaming blade reflecting his sharp gaze.

"Hmm, the material and quenching are both good, and it has a strong inner aura; it's a fine knife." He closed the knife, placed it on the stone table, and looked at Chen Mo with a gaze as deep as a mirror.

"But those who wield knives are not at peace."

Upon hearing this, Chen Mo was taken aback, and Chen Xing also subconsciously looked at his older brother.

"Your breath is unsteady." Master Song put down his teacup, his gaze sharp as a knife. "Have you encountered something that you can't resolve?"

Chen Mo pondered for a moment, then nodded: "Yes, I encountered some..."

"Try practicing a few moves." Song Zhuoqing raised his chin and didn't ask any more questions.

Chen Mo got up, walked to the open space in the center of the courtyard, took a deep breath, and gripped the hilt of his knife.

The Tang sword was drawn, bringing with it a cool, gleaming arc.

He was demonstrating the basic knife techniques taught by Master Song: chopping, slashing, sweeping, and hanging—simple, direct, and without any fancy moves.

The movements were precise, and the force was still powerful, but even Chen Xing, who was an amateur, could see that something was wrong.

Chen Mo's movements lacked the fluidity and ease they used to have.

After completing a set of sword techniques, Chen Mo's forehead was slightly sweaty. He sheathed his sword, stood up, and looked at his teacher.

Instead of commenting on his knife skills, Master Song asked, "How much force did you use just now?"

"Eight points," Chen Mo replied.

"But you're putting in your full effort," Master Song said calmly. "Your strength hasn't even been applied, yet your intention is already exhausted! Before you've even drawn your sword, you're already thinking about how to defend yourself and how your opponent will counterattack. This mindset is fatal for a Tang sword."

Chen Mo's body trembled slightly.

Since being drawn into the bizarre events and acquiring the "contract," he appears calm and composed, but deep down, he remains constantly on edge.

The ghosts were extremely strange, and their attack methods were even more bizarre. After doing the tasks issued by the "contract" for a long time, vigilance and defense against the unknown had unknowingly permeated his every move.

"The knife is an extension of the arm, and the mind is the master of the knife. If your mind is in turmoil, the knife will be even more chaotic." Master Song stood up, walked to Chen Mo, took the knife from his hand, and said, "Watch carefully."

He casually swung his hand, without a whistling wind or a sharp killing intent; it was just a simple horizontal slash, the movement even somewhat slow.

The tip of the knife finally stopped in mid-air, motionless, as if it had always been there.

Chen Mo could clearly see the trajectory of the blade as it sliced ​​through the air, carrying a resolute determination to sever all hesitation and distractions.

"Can you feel it?" Master Song asked.

Chen Mo stared at the terrifyingly steady blade tip and slowly nodded: "I sensed it... it's stillness."

"It's not stillness, it's composure." Master Song sheathed his knife and handed it back to Chen Mo. "The outside world is chaotic, but I remain steadfast. Whatever demons or monsters they may be, you must hold the knife tightly and first guard your own heart. Only when your heart is calm can the knife be sharp."

He sat back down on the stone bench, picked up his teacup, and said, "I may not be an expert on what you've been doing lately, but the principles are the same. If you understand one principle, you understand all principles."

As Chen Mo gripped the knife, the cool touch of the hilt strangely calmed the turmoil in his heart.

"Master Song, um..." Chen Xing, who had been holding back for a while, finally couldn't help but speak in a low voice, "I... can I learn swordsmanship from you?"

Master Song glanced at him, but didn't answer directly. Instead, he said to Chen Mo, "Take your brother to the back storeroom, bring out that pile of bamboo knives used for training, and clean them."

Chen Mo immediately understood that this was a signal of the teacher's approval, and also the first test for Chen Xing.

He tugged at Chen Xing, who was still in a daze: "Aren't you going to thank the teacher?"

"Thank you, teacher!" Chen Xing was overjoyed and changed his address.

The two brothers spent most of the morning working in the backyard storeroom, cleaning each of the piled-up bamboo knives.

Chen Xing was initially very enthusiastic, but soon he started to grimac and show his teeth.

There are just too many!

Moreover, bamboo is not easy to clean once it accumulates dust.

"You can't even handle this?" Chen Mo looked at him. "Practicing swordsmanship is much harder than this."

Chen Xing said with a bitter face, "Brother, you started like this too..."

Halfway through the question, he suddenly remembered that when Chen Mo was in high school, he was still in elementary school, and Chen Mo seemed to have much more energy back then than he does now…

Thinking of this, he couldn't help but shudder.

"Wipe the knife, practice stances, swing the knife... repeat this every day." Chen Mo said calmly, "You always have to pay a price for what you want to gain."

Chen Xing looked at his brother's calm profile, said nothing, and buried himself in his work.

At noon, Master Song invited them to stay for a simple vegetarian meal.

After the meal, the old man took out an old bamboo knife and taught Chen Xing a basic standing posture for holding the knife.

"Lower your center of gravity, relax your shoulders, focus your mind on your lower abdomen... Keep your back straight, not sticking your butt out!"

Song Zhuoqing's reprimand echoed in the courtyard. Chen Xing frantically tried to adjust himself, sweating profusely, but remained silent.

Chen Mo watched quietly from the side, occasionally adjusting the angle slightly for Chen Xing based on the teacher's guidance.

The two brothers said goodbye and left as the sun set.

Chen Xing's back ached, his muscles were protesting, but he had a satisfied smile on his face.

Chen Mo was used to this level of work intensity and remained unfazed.

"Brother, our teacher is amazing..."

"Nonsense! Among the top Tang sword masters in the country, there are very few who can match my teacher's skills. If it weren't for his connection with my grandfather, he wouldn't bother teaching him!"

"So, do I need to come every week from now on?"

"It's up to you. If you can't stick with it or give up halfway, you won't have to go anymore after that one time." Chen Mo said, driving with his eyes on the road ahead.

"Is it that serious?"

"Yeah, then you won't have as much time to play games with me anymore. I'll drop you off every Friday and pick you up on Sunday, okay?"

"Hmm... okay!"

Chen Mo's lips curled up slightly.

Chen Xing's personality is somewhat similar to his; they both possess a tenacious spirit, and the greater the pressure, the faster they grow...