Chapter Fifty-One: The Grand Promotion of True Mastery

The flame of the oil lamp flickered, casting jumping sparks. Wisps of blue smoke curled upward, threading through the still air.

With his sleeves gathered, Qi Xiu sat at the table. Before him, five complete manuals of true cultivation lay neatly arranged. He could hardly have imagined it—those true techniques he had once sought so tirelessly, now set before him as though they were no more precious than cabbages in the eyes of the Daoist cultivators.

Staring at the manuals, Qi Xiu couldn’t help but reveal a wry smile. Such was the chasm between worlds, wrought by status.

The five manuals, gathered from the Western Wind Army, were each a secret text passed down among the soldiers. Yuan Baiyi had made it clear: Qi Xiu was allowed to read them, but forbidden to share their contents.

They were: The Diagram of the Four Directions True Art, The Elephant-Swallowing Spirit Transformation True Art, The Water and Fire True Art, The Immortal Ape Plum Blossom True Art, and The Purple Sun True Art.

Unlike ordinary martial arts, the essence of these true techniques lay in their visualization diagrams. From the very first stage, the practitioner must contemplate the diagram, rather than tempering only a single part of the body as with lesser arts. In the Body-Tempering Stage, a true art would strengthen the entire form, using breathwork, tendon-stretching postures, secret medicinal formulas, and external strikes to permeate every inch of flesh.

This process was so demanding and intricate that even the highest martial skills could not compare. Upon reaching the Qi-Condensation Stage, the practitioner would form a spring of energy within, internal energy circulating endlessly through every breath, never to be depleted. This spring was the key to further advancement.

At the stage of True Intent, the practitioner would first consolidate their intent, mastering its power completely. Then, they would refine both intent and energy spring into a singular point—a threshold.

This point was the very gate to the Dao, known in ancient times as Gathering the Celestial Gang.

As for how to step through that gate, and what lay beyond, those were secrets not recorded in these texts—secrets that even Yuan Baiyi could not offer as bargaining chips.

No wonder all those who practiced martial arts yearned for true techniques, pursuing them with near-madness. The difference between a practitioner of true art and an ordinary martial artist was the difference between heaven and earth. Perhaps at the Body-Tempering Stage, experience and willpower could make some difference, but at the Qi-Condensation Stage, the existence of the energy spring meant the practitioner could recover endlessly with every breath. The most advanced martial arts could manage only three breaths for recovery. In a battle between the two, the true art user could unleash torrents of inner energy, while the ordinary fighter would be hard-pressed to survive even ten exchanges.

And that was not to mention the level of True Intent.

Having perused all five manuals, Qi Xiu couldn’t help but click his tongue in secret. The difference between people was indeed vast.

On the whole, the five true arts were roughly equivalent, but in terms of sheer power, the Water and Fire True Art was supreme. Its two opposing streams of inner energy—one icy, one blazing—were astonishingly potent, and when water and fire collided, the destructive force was terrifying.

Yet, Qi Xiu felt little interest in this art. He believed in developing his strength quietly, favoring steady progress over reckless power. Sheer destructive force did not suit his path.

His gaze wandered over the five manuals before finally settling on the one at the far left: The Purple Sun True Art.

Among the five, it was not outstanding—lacking the power of Water and Fire, the speed of Immortal Ape Plum Blossom, and the physical refinement of Four Directions and Elephant-Swallowing. Yet it possessed one quality none of the others could match: Qi Xiu had an inexplicable sense that it could harmonize with the martial arts he already practiced.

If this was true, then this was the one he must choose. Such harmony would spare him the time of retraining from the very beginning, perhaps even allowing him to leapfrog the first two stages and enter the third directly.

Times were chaotic and demons appeared frequently. The sooner he could deepen his strength, the safer he would be.

Yuan Baiyi was urging haste; true cultivation would have to wait until his return. For now, Qi Xiu decided to copy all five manuals. The young commander believed the essence of the true arts lay in the visualization diagrams and therefore thought Qi Xiu could not replicate them. How naive, he thought—underestimating Qi Xiu would be a costly mistake.

Under the dim light, the scholar in gathered sleeves chuckled quietly, then turned to fetch a scroll of blank paper and several boxes of pigments.

Three days later, at the city gate of Baoxian County.

Yuan Baiyi stood at the gate, hands behind his back, clad in a black fitted uniform with a longsword at his waist. Beside him, Nie Xun held the reins of three swift horses, a golden tiger-head spear strapped to the saddle, scanning the surroundings.

After waiting for a while, Qi Xiu arrived—dressed in a plain blue robe and cloth shoes, a gray-blue bundle on his back, and a bamboo staff at his waist, looking every bit the scholarly examinee.

“You two arrived early?” Qi Xiu cupped his hands in greeting, seeing that Yuan Baiyi and Nie Xun were already present. The agreed time was the hour of the dragon, and he was a quarter of an hour early—hardly late.

“Good morning, Daoist Qi!” Nie Xun grinned widely. He held a great deal of affection for this Daoist who had saved several of his brothers and aided the commander in removing the demon poison. “It seems your master is not entirely indifferent to you,” he added, his eyes alighting on the bamboo staff at Qi Xiu’s waist.

Yuan Baiyi’s gaze sharpened—such a dense, ferocious aura! Brutal and venomous, thirsting for blood. This artifact was at least forged from a demon of the Bone-Steeped Stage. To give such a dangerous item to a disciple not yet initiated—was it intentional, or simple neglect?

Observing Qi Xiu, who showed no concern at all for the perilous artifact at his side, Yuan Baiyi pursed his lips. It seemed the latter was more likely.

Given their prior acquaintance, and the dangers of the upcoming journey into the mountains, Qi Xiu had thought carefully before bringing along the autumn sandalwood staff. Another means at his disposal meant another layer of safety. Though Yuan Baiyi had said those two demons were gravely wounded, with little strength left to resist, Qi Xiu preferred to trust in himself.

“Now that everyone’s here, let’s set out. Nie Xun, give one of the horses to Brother Qi.”

Nie Xun led a horse to Qi Xiu, who scratched his head awkwardly. “I… don’t really know how to ride,” he admitted.

“You can’t ride?” Yuan Baiyi exchanged a look with Nie Xun. “Then you’ll have to share a horse with Nie Xun.”

“No problem, Daoist Qi. My horsemanship’s top-notch—come on up!” Nie Xun patted the horse’s back with a boastful grin, inviting Qi Xiu to mount.

Glancing at Nie Xun’s muscular chest and eager smile, Qi Xiu felt an odd chill at his back. “No need. I’ll just keep pace with you using lightness technique.”

“Lightness technique?” Yuan Baiyi recalled how Qi Xiu had once outpaced a berserk beast by several hundred meters and nodded. “Very well. The journey isn’t far, and we’ll need to dismount to enter the mountains anyway.”

“Let’s be on our way, then.”

Avoiding Nie Xun’s plaintive look, Qi Xiu cleared his throat, gathered his sleeves, and kept his gaze fixed straight ahead.

And so, they set out together.