Chapter 3

### Chapter 3: Uncle Wu's Shop

"Hey, Wang Yue, is that you?"

Just as Wang Yue was trying to mimic the movements, the old man walked over. Seeing Wang Yue imitating his actions, his eyes seemed to light up, and he then smiled, calling out Wang Yue's name.

"Huh?" Wang Yue was taken aback, looked up, and saw the old man standing in front of him. He was momentarily stunned, but then quickly recalled the memories associated with the old man.

"It's Uncle Wu. You're out so early for exercise, and I was just about to head to your shop!"

"It's not early, not early at all. When you get old, you sleep lightly, go to bed early, and wake up early. Morning exercises are good for your health and can help you live a few more years." The old man smiled faintly, his voice low, but his eyes were bright and spirited. Perhaps because he had just finished exercising, his complexion was good, his skin rosy, and he looked more energetic than usual.

This old man, surnamed Wu, was also an immigrant from the Eastern Continent. Perhaps because of their similar backgrounds, Wang Yue and he always got along well, almost like a friendship that transcended age.

"Hey, Wang Yue, are you interested in this thing?" As he spoke, Uncle Wu raised the black cloth sword sheath in his hand.

"Not really, I just felt that your sword practice was a bit different from what I'm used to." Wang Yue smiled awkwardly.

He was no longer the original Wang Yue and knew that watching someone practice swordsmanship, even for exercise, was considered very impolite in this world. Fortunately, they were very familiar with each other, so Uncle Wu probably wouldn't be too angry.

"Oh? You can see the difference?" A hint of surprise flashed in Uncle Wu's eyes. "Then tell me, what's special about my sword practice?"

"Well... I can't quite explain it, but I feel there's something different about it." Wang Yue and the old man walked and talked. Hearing Uncle Wu's question, he paused to think. "Uncle Wu, you know I've always been in poor health, so after starting university, I joined the amateur martial arts club at school. I've seen people practice fencing there. Their swords are fast and light, and they focus on speed and precision during practice, but it doesn't have the same feel as your sword practice."

"I once heard my father say that the cultural differences between the East and the West are huge. In the Asya-Tang Empire, the people are strong and martial arts are highly valued. Many people start practicing combat skills from a young age. If I'm not mistaken, the sword technique you were practicing is from the East, but it seems to be more for exercise rather than practical combat."

Wang Yue didn't hide his thoughts. Although his combined age from his past and present lives wasn't much younger than Uncle Wu's, he had very little experience with swordsmanship. In his previous life, humans had long entered the space age, and the outcome of wars was determined by energy and warships. Various powerful space weapons, from particle beam pistols to galaxy-class Peng-type fortresses, were constantly being developed. In space, with enough energy and time, a single antimatter annihilation cannon could destroy an entire planet.

Even if the battle progressed to a ground war, elite federal soldiers were equipped with powerful single-soldier mecha weapons, and mentalists often engaged in mental battles, never coming to close combat. Although the federal army had various hand-to-hand combat techniques and cold weapons like daggers and military knives, swordsmanship had long become a historical relic due to its lack of practicality. Only a few martial artists still practiced it, and the tradition was almost completely lost.

In contrast, in this world, due to the slow development of technology and the limited power of firearms, cold weapons and martial arts still had a certain "market." In many countries, many people practiced them.

Especially in the Eastern Continent, it was said that even the elderly in the Asya-Tang Empire, despite their age and weaker physical condition, often chose to practice boxing and swordsmanship for exercise, much like how many elderly people in China practice Tai Chi and Tai Chi sword in parks every morning.

However, in the West, morning exercises were mostly running, and it was rare to see someone like Uncle Wu practicing swordsmanship for exercise in Yorkshire.

Moreover, Wang Yue knew that the use of swordsmanship differed greatly between the East and the West. Western swordsmanship largely evolved from the wars and religious conflicts of the royal era, from the heavy cross swords with counterweights to the elegant and artistic court knight swords popular among the nobility in the Middle Ages, and finally to the modern sport of fencing. This clearly shows that Western swordsmanship had "degenerated" from a purely practical and combat-oriented art into a more flashy and showy sport, losing its original purpose and essence.

In a sense, this was a regression. However, in the context of the times, it was inevitable.

The more technology developed, the more ways there were to replace human labor. While liberating humans from arduous work, it inevitably eliminated things that were no longer adapted to the times. Although the firearms in this world were not very powerful, their impact on cold weapon civilizations was fundamental and fatal.

"You have a good understanding, but it's a pity you grew up in Yorkshire. Some things from home, if explained in depth, you might not understand. Take some time to read more books from home, don't forget your roots, it will be good for you..." Hearing Wang Yue's words, Uncle Wu didn't show much reaction, just advised him not to forget his roots, and then changed the subject.

Wang Yue was still pondering the impact of the old man's final footstep on his spirit when he saw Uncle Wu quickly cross the road and open the door to a shop across the street.

This street was the busiest commercial street in the neighborhood, lined with shops on both sides. Although it was just after dawn, around six in the morning, there were already many people hurrying along, and many merchants were cleaning the streets and windows. For some reason, looking at this familiar scene, Wang Yue suddenly felt an overwhelming sense of strangeness.

Standing in the middle of the road, he looked around at the bustling crowd, a mix of familiarity and strangeness, which made him feel suffocated. An indescribable sadness welled up in his heart, making it hard for him to calm down.

It was as if he were standing on a street in a strange city, with no one he knew, feeling utterly alone, as if the world were vast but he were the only person in it.

Wang Yue had never felt this way before. The urge to ask Uncle Wu more questions faded, and he couldn't help but laugh bitterly. He slowly crossed the road and entered Uncle Wu's shop.

This was a "Ceramic House" that was very familiar to him. Everything inside was Eastern-style Tang Dynasty ceramics, all made and managed by Uncle Wu himself.

Uncle Wu stood among the dark brown, antique wooden shelves, changed into a black robe, and was brewing tea. Seeing Wang Yue enter, he didn't look up, just waved his hand. "Everything is inside. In the few days you haven't been here, I made a few fine-bodied vases. They've already been fired once, and just need to be painted."

"Understood. I have enough time today. I'll finish by the end of the shift."

Wang Yue responded softly, didn't stop to talk, and went straight to the workshop at the back of the shop. He turned on the desk lamp and saw that there were indeed six or seven vases of various sizes lined up on the workbench. He turned around, picked up the bottles and jars on the shelf, and began to mix the coloring materials.

Although Wang Yue's family wasn't wealthy, his parents were civil servants in the city, with his father working at the Yorkshire Police Department and his mother as a clerk in the city government. Their income was decent, and with his family's financial situation, he didn't need to work to earn money. Helping Uncle Wu was just a hobby.

Uncle Wu's shop was very famous in the area, not only for making and firing ceramics but also for providing DIY services, where customers could make their own under his guidance. About a year ago, he stumbled upon this shop and started trying to make ceramics. He was quickly drawn in, and it turned out he had a talent for painting. When he helped Uncle Wu paint the ceramic bodies, his work was very lively and received high praise from customers. Since then, he was a regular at Uncle Wu's shop.

In a sense, Wang Yue in this world was just a simple, ordinary teenager, doing things based on his interests and instinctively resisting all constraints.

Adjusting the light on the desk to a suitable level, Wang Yue found the corresponding original paintings in the scrolls on the desk and carefully examined them. Painting and coloring ceramic bodies, especially those with Eastern characteristics, required a lot of attention to detail and a complex process. Without professional training in Eastern painting techniques, it was very difficult to do. Fortunately, Uncle Wu had already laid out the patterns and sketched a base after the first firing, so Wang Yue just needed to fill in the colors according to the original paintings.

Closing his eyes, he verified the patterns in his mind, then reached for the ceramic body. The texture was very smooth, like a child's skin. Calming his mind, he picked up a "small branch brush," paused for a moment, and then, with a steady hand, the brush tip glided smoothly over the ceramic body.

Painting and coloring ceramic bodies was a meticulous task, testing one's eyesight and intuition. The key was to complete it in one go, without repeating the coloring. Therefore, skilled artisans had to thoroughly understand and familiarize themselves with the patterns before starting, ensuring they had a clear plan in mind. Otherwise, a single mistake could ruin the entire piece.