Breathing Technique and Old Family Affairs

"Uncle Zhao, you flatter me. I'm still far from good enough." Lin Zhao turned around, his hands unconsciously clenching as unwillingness and determination filled his young face. "I want to begin cultivating the Internal School Breathing Technique as soon as possible and become a true martial artist.

The ground is frozen now. Refugees and defeated border soldiers around Jianghuai often pillage the countryside. Lin Family Fortress stands in a remote location, without garrison troops to protect us. Disaster could strike at any time.

I can't rely on Uncle Zhao's Iron Shirt to protect me for the rest of my life, becoming a useless heir steward who only knows how to guard a few meager fields."

His voice lowered a few degrees. "After Father died, we lost Furong Manor in Jiangnan and Anvil Mountain in Eastern Zhejiang. These thin fields by Wulong Pond are already the Lin family's last foundation. I am the Lin family's only heir steward. For the honor of our ancestors, for the continuation of our family line, I must grow stronger!"

"The Black Dragon Holding Pearl family crest cannot be stained in my hands! Uncle Zhao, I am ready!"

Lin Zhao's words rang with force, yet a faint, imperceptible calculation hid in his eyes—Black Dragon Holding Pearl was the Lin family's symbol. Back then, his father Lin Yuanshan had earned great renown in the army through his Hard Body Technique and Internal Cultivation, gaining the title of Black Dragon General. Thus, the Lin family came to be known as the Black Dragon Lin Family.

His father had been far more than a Garrison Commander.

In his early years, he had followed Emperor Jiajing in pacifying the Japanese Pirates. Rising through the ranks by military merit, he became a General of Cavalry, a Principal Second Rank official, and one of the Eight Steeds of Jianghuai. He held a thousand fertile mu at Furong Manor and an officially supervised, commercially operated mine at Anvil Mountain. He had been a noble with true power.

Compared to the Wulong Pond region—where snow and ice covered the land for half the year, where the soil was so barren that even hardy millet could barely yield a decent harvest—Furong Manor and Anvil Mountain had been heaven.

Furong Manor lay in Jiangnan, where the climate was mild and moist and paddy fields stretched in unbroken patches, yielding tens of thousands of shi of grain every year. Anvil Mountain was steep and perilous, yet rich in refined iron and copper ore. It was a crucial place for forging military weapons; even the Armaments Bureau of the Yingtian Garrison purchased raw materials from there.

Before Lin Zhao turned ten, his father had been at the height of his glory.

At that time, the Lin family not only commanded five thousand garrison soldiers assigned by the court, but also maintained five hundred fully armed household cavalry with the profits from Anvil Mountain's mines. Every one of those retainers had trained in basic fist and kicking techniques and carried ring-pommel swords and Pear Blossom Spears. In these times, even some commanders of remote garrisons might not have so many elite troops beneath them.

Yet all of it had rested upon Lin Yuanshan's strength as a Grandmaster Warrior.

If ordinary martial artists were mere street performers of the martial world, then Martial Masters were masters of a regional martial school. Grandmaster Warriors, meanwhile, stood alongside the foremost renowned masters of Southern Fist, Northern Leg—the pinnacle of mortal martial arts.

Across the entire Ming Dynasty, only a handful of Legendary Master Warriors could surpass a Grandmaster Warrior. There was Marquis Dingyuan Qiu Fu, who guarded the Northern Frontier and wielded the Yang Family Spear; Duke of Qian Mu Sheng, who held the western frontier and was skilled in Miao Territory Poisons and Internal Martial Arts; Commander Ji Gang of the Imperial Guard, who had cultivated the Indestructible Diamond Body; and Mister Ye, who lived in seclusion in Jinling and was famed for the Trace-less Sword.

Such people were like the legendary Qi Jiguang and Yu Dayou, masters who lived within tales of armies and the martial world. Ordinary people found it difficult even to see them once.

At his peak, Lin Yuanshan had been one of those figures standing atop the pyramid of martial arts.

Yet such a Grandmaster Warrior had answered the court's summons three years ago and gone to Liaodong to resist the Tatar, never to return.

What ultimately reached Lin Zhao's ears was the terrible news that his father and Three Hundred Guards had encountered the main Tatar force on the grasslands, fought bitterly, and died for their country.

According to Great Ming Law, the titles and lands of nobles could be inherited. Lin Yuanshan's three territories should have passed to his only son, Lin Zhao; all that had remained was for the court to send an Imperial Censor to certify it.

After the Imperial Censor arrived, Lin Zhao became the nominal master of Furong Manor, Anvil Mountain, and Wulong Pond.

But he knew perfectly well that it was only an empty title. Bloody Hand General Zhou Yan and White Shirt General Wang Jun, who had long coveted the Lin family's territories, had quietly sent retainers to seize control of Furong Manor's granaries and Anvil Mountain's mines—with the tacit approval of their patron, Duke Wei Xu Qin, who guarded Nanjing.

The court turned a blind eye. Without Lin Yuanshan, that great tree, the Lin family had long lost the means to contend with others.

Though the Great Ming Law · Household Law stipulated that "noble lands shall be inherited forever and may not be occupied by others," the noble circles of today had long ceased to settle everything by law alone.

Open rivalry, secret strife, clever seizure, and brazen plunder were common among the great families. Lin Zhao had no desire to carry two "scalding hot taros" and invite disaster upon himself.

He had simply submitted a memorial of his own accord, offering Furong Manor and Anvil Mountain to Duke Wei.

This Grandmaster Warrior, who held military authority over the Nanjing Capital Camp and was also the eldest in seniority among the Eight Steeds of Jianghuai, had long wanted to expand his influence into Jiangnan and Eastern Zhejiang. Lin Zhao's "understanding of the times" suited him perfectly. Not only did he reward the Lin family with one hundred taels of silver, he also issued documents guaranteeing that the Lin family's fields around Wulong Pond would remain untouched, temporarily sparing the family from the danger of being swallowed whole.

In Lin Zhao's view, "a common man commits no crime, but possession of jade becomes his crime." Without a Grandmaster Warrior to hold the fort and without enough household guards, keeping those two treasured places was simply courting death.

Besides, he had the Proficiency Panel. Rather than that, he might as well retreat to remote Wulong Pond, become a steady Fort Commander, and hide his light while gathering strength.

He had no interest in becoming king or hegemon. He only wanted to calmly master the Breathing Technique, rely on the panel to advance step by step from martial artist to Martial Master, Grandmaster Warrior, and perhaps even Legendary Master Warrior, then seek traces of Internal Martial Arts Grandmasters. Only such masters, who could open the Extraordinary Meridians and cultivate Innate True Qi, might help him explore higher realms of martial arts. Only they could truly deal with evil things such as Pond Fiends.

However, he would not tell anyone these thoughts, especially Zhao Tieying.

This trusted confidant of his father was utterly loyal to the Lin family. Lin Zhao had to put on the appearance of "reviving the family's glory" before him, both to reassure him and to obtain the Breathing Technique smoothly. After all, martial training consumed immense resources. Poverty in Scholarship, Wealth in Martial Arts held true in every age. Cultivating an Internal Martial Arts Manual required large amounts of meat and medicinal herbs to replenish qi and blood. Without Zhao Tieying managing the fields and contacting merchant caravans for purchases, he would have difficulty gathering the resources cultivation required.

Zhao Tieying listened silently to the end. A gratified smile appeared on the old general's face, his temples already flecked with white, and even the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes eased open.

He stepped forward and bowed slightly, his tone respectful yet filled with anticipation. "Young Master, your mind and physique are indeed sufficient for cultivating an Internal Martial Arts Manual. Come with me. Before the Assistant Regional Commander passed away, he entrusted the Manual Notes and Cultivation Insights to me. He had been waiting for the day you were ready."

Deep within the cellar of Lin Family Fortress lay a Secret Room Lin Zhao had never entered.

Zhao Tieying turned a blue brick in the corner of the wall, carved with a Black Dragon Pattern. With a click, a white marble table slowly rose from the ground.

Spread flat across it was a yellowed silk scroll, upon which cinnabar depicted dozens of strangely posed humanoid figures. Some crouched like Crouching Tigers, some stood like strong pines, some stretched their arms like probing claws, and some bent their knees as though storing force, all arranged in a circle.

Outside the figures, a Black Armored Dragon coiled and wound its way around them. Its head was raised high, its whiskers flared, and beneath its chin it held a flaming pearl. The halo traced in cinnabar seemed capable of driving away darkness—it was precisely the Lin family's Black Dragon Holding Pearl crest.

"This is the Lin family's ancestral Internal Martial Arts Manual—the Mystic Dragon Breathing Technique." Zhao Tieying's tone was solemn as his fingers brushed the worn edges of the silk scroll. "It is the foundation upon which the Lin family established itself among military households, and the Lin family bloodline within you is the sole key to cultivating it. This Upper Grade internal art is more precious than all of Wulong Pond's fields put together. The Late General relied on it to cultivate a Qi Seed in three years and enter the Grandmaster Warrior realm in ten."

Lin Zhao held his breath, his gaze fixed tightly on the silk scroll—he was finally about to embark upon the true path of martial arts!

As far as he knew, martial artists categorized internal cultivation methods into six grades based on their intricacy and potential: Mortal Grade, Lower Grade, Middle Grade, Upper Grade, Supreme Grade, and Divine Grade.

Over ninety percent of cultivation methods were Mortal Grade. Those who cultivated such arts mostly remained Martial Trainees their entire lives. Being able to condense a Qi Seed and become a Martial Master was already an enormous stroke of fortune; advancing to Grandmaster Warrior was harder than climbing to heaven. Zhao Tieying's Eagle Soaring Hard Body Technique was such a Lower Grade cultivation method. After twenty years of training, he had only reached the peak of Martial Master.

Even an Upper Grade cultivation method was merely a stepping stone that knocked upon the door to Grandmaster Warrior.

To truly enter the hall, one still needed nine parts talent, nine parts opportunity, and twelve parts bitter cultivation.

As for Supreme Grade cultivation methods, only imperial clansmen or ducal families might possess them. There were no more than ten in the entire Ming Dynasty. The Xu Family Hereditary Heart Method of Duke Wei's Residence was one of them.

Divine Grade cultivation methods, like Legendary Master Warriors, existed only in legend. Some said Yue Fei's Wumu's Legacy concealed a Divine Grade cultivation method, but no one had ever seen the original text.

Cultivation methods above Upper Grade mostly required a family bloodline to cultivate. The martial world called them Bloodline Secret Arts.

As for why, even the foremost martial artists could not explain it.

They only knew that throughout history, people had seized other families' secret cultivation methods and tried to practice them by force. The result was either qi and blood flowing in reverse, leaving them unable to advance for life, or deviation and madness, with blood pouring from all seven orifices until they died.

Some said it was the martial will of the ancestors protecting the cultivation method. Lin Zhao did not care. He was originally the direct son of the Lin family, pure in bloodline and the best possible candidate to cultivate the Mystic Dragon Breathing Technique.

Because the Mystic Dragon Breathing Technique was so precious, Lin Zhao did not bring the silk scroll out of the Secret Room. He cultivated there only under Zhao Tieying's guidance.

This training lasted Half a Month.

Although Zhao Tieying did not understand this cultivation method, he had traveled far and wide for many years and had seen much. Guiding Lin Zhao in adjusting his breathing rhythm and correcting his breathing postures was more than within his abilities.

One morning, Lin Zhao awoke from the final breathing posture of Dragon Probing the Sea.

Though he had not exercised violently, his entire body was drenched in sweat. The veins on his arms bulged like coiled dragons, his face was as red as a ripe persimmon, and his breathing was as heavy as a bellows.

The qi and blood within his body seemed to burn in blazing fire. The force he had accumulated over Half a Month was being wildly consumed, and an extreme hunger surged into his mind, making him want to swallow a live sheep whole.

"Hungry..." His voice was low and hoarse, carrying the roughness of a wild beast.

Zhao Tieying had prepared beforehand. Turning around, he brought over a black lacquer tray: a plate of glistening roast beef, a bowl of warm goat milk with red dates and goji berries, four white flour cakes filled with walnut kernels, and a small dish of lightly stir-fried frost-bitten cabbage.

Such a combination filled the stomach with grain, replenished qi and blood with meat and milk, and regulated the spleen and stomach with vegetables. It was precisely the finest diet for one cultivating an Internal Martial Arts Manual.

He wolfed it down, sweeping away every scrap of food like a wind scattering clouds. Only then did the hunger in his belly ease slightly, and color gradually returned to his face.

This single meal equaled two meals for an ordinary adult male, yet it only left him eighty percent full.

With a thought, the Proficiency Panel appeared:

Lin Zhao-----

-Mystic Dragon Breathing Technique: First Level (1/1000)

-...

From his previous experience, a skill appearing on the panel meant that he had already entered its gates.

All he needed to do next was cultivate steadily and accumulate proficiency.

Initially mastering the Breathing Technique was precisely the sign of entering the Martial Trainee realm.

"Shield-bearing Martial Trainee, Sword-Wielding Martial Trainee, Quasi-Martial Master." These were the three stages before becoming an official Martial Master, collectively known as Martial Trainees.

At the shield-bearing stage, besides cultivating the Breathing Technique to temper qi and blood, one also had to master shield techniques. Whether one would use a shield in the future or not, shield techniques were an essential defensive method for martial artists. For soldiers of the Yingtian Garrison, their first lesson upon enlisting was to practice blocking with rattan shields.

At the sword-wielding stage, one had to learn true swordsmanship killing moves rather than the Basic Sword Forms practiced before. In the martial world, anything called a killing move was a combat technique tempered through Hundred Refinements. For instance, the Black Dragon Three Forms passed down by the Lin family struck directly at vital points with every move. They required years, perhaps even decades, of bitter training and were a martial artist's most central source of strength besides the Breathing Technique.

Simply put, the Breathing Technique was the "foundation of internal power," while swordsmanship killing moves were the "methods of external power." The two complemented each other; neither could be lacking.

Once the Breathing Technique reached minor completion and could make qi and blood circulate through the meridians, one entered the Quasi-Martial Master stage. This was the most crucial step, requiring one to condense the qi and blood within the body into a Qi Seed.

Success meant entering the Martial Master Realm and becoming a valiant warrior on the battlefield capable of fighting ten men alone. Failure meant the Qi Seed would disperse and could never again be condensed, leaving one forever at the Martial Trainee stage, fit only to be an ordinary common fighter.

Seeing that he had recovered, Zhao Tieying stroked the short beard on his chin and smiled. "Young Master has already initially mastered the Mystic Dragon Breathing Technique. Though you are somewhat slower than the Late General, who entered its gates in three days, among the Lin family's generations of heir stewards, you are still above average. Next, your dietary supplements must keep up. I have already sent a merchant caravan to Yingtian Prefecture to purchase astragalus and Angelica Sinensis, along with some fresh venison, to help stabilize your qi and blood."