The carriage rushed by. The interior of the carriage was bathed in a soft yet bright light, and he leaned in, examining the jade pendant closely, fixated on the minute markings.
Only upon this intense scrutiny did he faintly realize that they were not mere patterns, but rather a form of writing.
Li Muzhan frowned, closed his eyes, and clearly recalled the characters etched on the pendant. He magnified them in his mind, studying them intently, yet still could not recognize them.
Though his experience was considerable, his knowledge was far from comprehensive. His understanding of this world's culture stemmed primarily from his Master and the books his elder brother had purchased.
As for what kind of script this was, he had no clue at all.
“Miss?” he breathed out slowly, stretching his neck forward.
Mei Ruolan, who had been speaking with Elder Ouyang and Elder Zhang ahead, turned at the sound of his voice. Floating across the distance of a dozen zhang, she approached gracefully. “What is it?” she inquired, a faint, delicate fragrance preceding her.
Li Muzhan smiled. “I have something to ask you.”
Mei Ruolan glanced at him, then lifted the curtain and entered the carriage, settling opposite him. The sweet scent intensified, drifting straight into his nostrils.
“Miss, are these characters carved here?” Li Muzhan presented the square piece of jade.
Mei Ruolan took it, examined it closely, and nodded. “This is Ding Jian script!”
She smiled. “In that case, this jade pendant is an antiquity of incalculable value… Sect Leader Lin is quite generous!”
Her bright eyes held a knowing, almost teasing glint as she looked at Li Muzhan.
Li Muzhan managed a wry smile. “Miss, can you decipher it?”
Mei Ruolan lowered her gaze to examine it again, then looked up and smiled. “This should be a cultivation manual, likely possessing extraordinary power. Do you really want me to translate it?”
Li Muzhan smiled and extended his hand, signaling her to begin.
Mei Ruolan nodded. “Very well. Though I am not an expert, I know a little. I shall attempt a translation.”
Saying this, she called out loudly, “Xiaoyuan!”
A flash of pink shadow appeared as Xiaoyuan lifted the curtain, chirping, “Miss?”
As she spoke, she shot a quick, sidelong glance at Li Muzhan.
Li Muzhan smiled, pretending not to notice, and looked back at Mei Ruolan.
Mei Ruolan kept her eyes on the jade pendant. “Xiaoyuan, prepare brush and ink.”
“Yes, Miss,” Xiaoyuan agreed, hurrying to the writing desk to grind the inkstone. Her movements were gentle and elegant.
A moment later, Xiaoyuan set down the stone. “Miss, it is ready.”
Mei Ruolan approached the desk, picked up the brush, and dipped it in ink. Characters resembling flower petals appeared on the plain paper. At first glance, they truly looked like floral patterns.
Unless one knew this particular script, it would be nearly impossible to recognize them as writing.
After a short while, she had written about two dozen characters and set down the brush, letting out a sigh of relief.
Xiaoyuan peered at the script, shook her head, unable to recognize it. She tilted her head to the left, then to the right, still seeing nothing. “Miss, what kind of flower is this a drawing of?”
Mei Ruolan glanced at her, shook her head, and said nothing.
Li Muzhan chuckled. “Xiaoyuan, these are characters, not flowers.”
“Nonsense! They are clearly flowers!” Xiaoyuan glared at him, then turned and walked away, knowing she was in the wrong and that staying would only invite more teasing from Li Muzhan.
Li Muzhan watched her with a faint smile, unbothered.
Mei Ruolan remained focused on the script, then glanced at him. “That silly girl, Xiaoyuan!”
Li Muzhan touched his nose, offered a few embarrassed laughs, and then looked at the paper, frowning. “Miss, these characters… are truly a cultivation manual?”
“Let me see,” Mei Ruolan replied, shaking her head. She stared at the two dozen-plus characters, picked up the brush again, frowned in concentration, and slowly wrote out a single character.
For every character, she paused to study it for a full cup of tea’s worth of time before slowly committing it to paper. Li Muzhan stood beside her, watching.
Her face was like white jade; her delicate brows framed phoenix eyes. Seen from this close proximity, the air of pure refinement emanating from her was overwhelming—a truly rare sight.
She furrowed her brow in deep thought, staring at the paper, her expression intensely focused, her luminous eyes sparkling with a captivating haze.
Li Muzhan sighed inwardly. What man in this world could ever capture the heart of such a woman? At least, he certainly couldn't move her.
The thought brought a pang of melancholy.
Xiaoyuan suddenly returned, lighting a lamp inside the carriage. “Miss, we won't reach any populated area tonight. Elder Ouyang said we are making camp on the small hill ahead.”
“Ah, very well,” Mei Ruolan waved her hand, her eyes still glued to the paper.
Xiaoyuan shot Li Muzhan another glare and floated out of the carriage.
Li Muzhan said gently, “Miss, perhaps we should rest a while before continuing the translation.”
“No, it will be done soon,” Mei Ruolan murmured distractedly, frowning deeply at the paper.
Li Muzhan stopped persuading her. He closed his eyes and resumed circulating his internal energy to regulate his breath.
The carriage moved with exceptional smoothness, the slight sway lacking any jarring bumps, a testament to exquisite craftsmanship. Li Muzhan was quite impressed.
Sitting in such a conveyance made one prone to drowsiness. He watched Mei Ruolan for a moment, not wishing to disturb her concentration, so he closed his eyes and began his meditative cycle.
He still carried injuries, though they had been suppressed. Coupled with his extraordinary self-healing abilities, the Jin Wang Bu Huai Shen Gong (Golden Net Indestructible Divine Art), though not yet manifested externally, was ceaselessly at work, exerting enormous influence.
He had taken a strike from the Jin Wang finger technique, leaving a bloody hole in his chest—a blow that would instantly fell an ordinary person, draining all strength. Yet, he remained unharmed, vibrant and vigorous, entirely due to the Jin Wang Bu Huai Shen Gong.
Currently, he had reached the fourth level: the first level refined the five viscera, the second the bones, the third the skin, and the fourth the flesh. If the third and fourth layers were mastered, he could withstand common blades and swords.
His mastery of the first two levels was deep, but the third and fourth were only at minor attainment. Furthermore, all the formidable opponents he had encountered were stronger than him, preventing the true power of the Jin Wang Bu Huai Shen Gong from being displayed.
If he faced someone with lesser internal power, he could simply ignore defenses and meet their force directly. Sadly, such an opportunity had never arisen.
The fourth level, refining the flesh, worked by gradually altering the blood and muscle tissue, making it more resilient and vital. Even when injured, instead of succumbing, the body would tenaciously self-repair.
When struck by the Jin Wang finger, the bleeding stopped immediately. Bolstered by his powerful internal organs, which continuously supplied energy, he appeared unaffected. However, the aftermath inevitably brought weakness, as his body had been forced into extraordinary operation, causing some exhaustion.
He grew ever more confident in the Jin Wang Bu Huai Shen Gong. As his internal strength deepened and the art progressed, its power would increase, allowing him to truly reach the state of utter invulnerability.
“Hoo,” Mei Ruolan suddenly sighed, setting down the brush. A smile touched her lips as she looked at the paper with evident satisfaction.
Li Muzhan opened his eyes and smiled. “Thank you for your trouble, Miss.”
Mei Ruolan picked up the paper, gave it a light puff, and said, “Here, take a look!”
Li Muzhan accepted it. There were forty-odd characters in total: the initial twenty-odd in the previously seen script, followed by elegant, rounded characters resembling plum blossoms below.
Li Muzhan forcefully suppressed his excitement and said, “Miss’s brushwork in this plum blossom script is truly…”
“Alright, hurry up and look!” Mei Ruolan pursed her lips, smiling.
Li Muzhan chuckled lightly, finally lowering his head to read.
“Jiang Xin, Chen Qi, Shen Zhu, Kan Li Dao, Long Hu He, Ling Guang Xian, Chun Lei Dong, Zao Hua Ming.”
Li Muzhan frowned, lifted his head, and gave a wry smile. “Is this really a cultivation manual?”
Mei Ruolan nodded. “Kan Li and Long Hu are both terms from Daoism. This structure is unusual for a martial arts manual. To truly understand it, you will need to consult a master of the Daoist sects.”
“A Daoist master?” Li Muzhan asked, looking up.
Mei Ruolan sank back down, rubbing her shoulders. Despite her high martial arts skill, focusing her spirit so intensely for so long had left her body stiff and slightly fatigued.
Li Muzhan watched her quietly.
Mei Ruolan continued, “In the current age, the martial world is divided. The Seven Great Sects each possess unique arts, holding undeniable authority and status in their domains.”
Li Muzhan nodded. “The Vast Sea Sword Sect, the Changbai Sword Sect, Penglai Pavilion, Holy Snow Peak, Trapped Sky Island, Rantuo Monastery, and the Nangong Clan…”
He had already gathered this intelligence. He knew of these seven major factions, having witnessed the power of Rantuo Monastery when facing the chief bandit, only to realize that even a mere defector from that sect was highly skilled—a skill he coveted immensely with the Jin Wang finger technique. However, obtaining the supreme arts of Rantuo Monastery seemed unlikely.
Mei Ruolan added, “Common people only know these Seven Great Sects, but they are unaware that above them exist Four Sects, transcendental and aloof from the mortal realm.”
“Oh?” Li Muzhan’s spirit lifted, and he leaned forward.
Mei Ruolan stated, “The Supreme Purity Abbey (Shang Qing Guan), Thunder Sound Temple (Lei Yin Si), Heavenly Demon Sect (Tian Mo Zong), and the Ziwei Academy (Zi Wei Shu Yuan)… Have you heard of them?”
Li Muzhan shook his head quickly. “Are these Four Sects stronger than the Seven Great Sects?”
“Indeed,” Mei Ruolan confirmed, sighing. “But these four have not shown themselves in the world for a very long time. Rumor has it they only send disciples out when the world undergoes massive change, or dynasties are overthrown.”
“Has Miss ever seen disciples from these four sects?” Li Muzhan inquired.
Mei Ruolan shook her head. “I have only heard my Master mention them; even she has never seen them. She only said that the cultivation practiced by these four sects pursues not just martial arts, but immortality.”
“Supreme Purity Abbey, Thunder Sound Temple, Heavenly Demon Sect, Ziwei Academy…” Li Muzhan murmured the names to himself, then suddenly looked up. “Is the Supreme Purity Abbey a Daoist sect?”
“Correct,” Mei Ruolan nodded, sighing. “In this age, Buddhism flourishes while Daoism wanes. It is rare to see a Daoist priest now.”
Li Muzhan let out a breath, managing a bitter laugh. “Didn't Miss say that to decipher this manual, I would need to seek out a disciple of the Supreme Purity Abbey?”
Mei Ruolan smiled. “Your fortune is not shallow. Perhaps you might encounter one someday; then you can seek their advice. It won't be too late.”
Li Muzhan looked back at the paper, shaking his head repeatedly. It was like having a choice cut of fatty meat right in front of him, yet being unable to eat it, only to drool—a truly agonizing experience.
He picked up the square jade pendant and examined it again, suddenly exclaiming, “Eh, there are characters here too!”
Mei Ruolan took it back, turned it over, looked for a moment, then picked up her brush and swiftly inscribed something. “It’s these three characters!”
Li Muzhan took the paper to look, then chuckled. “Zi Yang Bei… What a peculiar name.”
“Perhaps it’s an inscription rubbed from a stele somewhere,” Mei Ruolan suggested.
“Alright, you study this carefully now. You have high comprehension; perhaps you can figure it out. If all else fails, you can go to the Jade Immortal Sect,” Mei Ruolan said, her gaze teasing.
Li Muzhan laughed softly, beginning to understand Lin Qiongying’s subtle intentions.
With this bait cast, how could he possibly escape?
He took the plain paper, a sudden resolve hardening in his heart. He refused to believe that with his accumulated knowledge, he couldn't grasp the meaning of these twenty-odd characters, especially since his internal landscape was clear, allowing him to attempt self-experimentation.
“Miss, do you have any Daoist scriptures?” Li Muzhan asked.
Mei Ruolan nodded. “Yes, I have a few Daoist scrolls.”
She rose and went to the couch, bending down to open a small cabinet beneath it, retrieving several books which she handed to him. “Look through these; perhaps you really can glean something.”
“Thank you, Miss,” Li Muzhan said, accepting them without ceremony.
Mei Ruolan left. Li Muzhan sat in the carriage, reciting the twenty-odd characters, frowning in thought, constantly trying to discern their true essence.
Jiang Xin (Sinking the Heart), Chen Qi (Settling the Breath), Shen Zhu (Focusing the Spirit). He understood the literal actions clearly—how to do them. But the crux of the matter remained obscure: sinking the heart to where? Settling the breath where to? Focusing the spirit where to?
In martial cultivation, a hair’s breadth of error leads to a thousand li of deviation. If he got it wrong, the consequences could range from qi deviation and the ruin of his martial arts to the loss of his life.
Kan Li and Long Hu, however, he did not understand well. He opened the Daoist scriptures and began studying them intently.
The carriage stopped; camp was established. He remained hidden, continuing to study the scrolls. By dinnertime, he finally began to grasp the concepts.
Once he understood these two terms, a faint spark of insight illuminated his mind, making him feel he was close to the core meaning.
After hastily finishing his meal, he informed Mei Ruolan that he was leaving the group. He took Xiaoyuan to a patch of woods, chopped down a tree, fashioned a crude couch, and they sat upon it.
Xiaoyuan was clearly displeased, ignoring him, pouting, and occasionally letting out a small hum.
Li Muzhan was wholly absorbed in the twenty-odd characters. He merely smiled, not bothering to argue. Soon, he sat cross-legged in meditation, entering his internal world.
The sinking heart, the settling breath, and the focused spirit gathered in the Dantian, remaining still. Slowly, his mind-spirit and breath merged into one, hazy and indistinct, almost nonexistent.
Li Muzhan’s spirit was powerful, pure, and settled. A response came quickly: suddenly, in the haze, a speck of spiritual light flashed into existence, like a millet grain.
A moment later, the millet-sized point of light exploded, transforming into a vast expanse of spiritual radiance. Immediately, the Dantian shook violently, as if buffeted by a roaring gale, whistling and howling, almost scattering his mind-spirit to pieces.
Li Muzhan’s spirit remained anchored like a dragon, unmoving, weathering the ferocious wind. Two masses of fire erupted from his kidneys, surging forth. The wind fueled the fire, nearly incinerating him to ash.
Yet, Li Muzhan’s spirit remained settled, neither panicked nor rash. During countless previous meditations, he had witnessed countless strange phenomena, always remaining steady. This discipline was why he had reached his current level; a slight lapse in concentration, a moment of distraction, and he would have long since turned to dust.
Despite the confluence of wind and fire, he remained unmoved, his body relaxed. His mouth filled with saliva, which he gently swallowed. His spirit followed the saliva down, sinking into the Dantian.
As the saliva descended, it intersected with the wind and fire.
“BOOM!” His entire body shuddered as a clap of spring thunder exploded near his ears. Instantly, the pores across his body opened, and his joints unlocked—a sensation of boundless, inexpressible comfort.
A ball of hot vapor flew out of the Dantian, blazing like fire, surging directly up the Governing Vessel (Du Mai). It passed the Bai Hui point on his crown, which immediately opened, allowing a drop of sweet dew to descend.
The sweet dew merged with the vapor, transforming into a point of light, a millet seed, which fell deeply into the Dantian.
This millet-sized point of light settled in the Dantian and began incessantly absorbing the internal true qi, rapidly condensing into a pearl the size of a thumb, emanating a faint purple glow.
All the true qi was absorbed, leaving the Dantian utterly empty. He immediately activated the Tian Yuan Tu Na Shu (Heavenly Origin Breathing Technique), causing the pores across his body to open and close, drawing in the essence of heaven and earth, which flowed into the Dantian.