Mystic Dragon Secret Medicine

21st Year of Jiajing, Lunar December

"Thank you for the reminder, Uncle Zhao. I'll be careful." Lin Zhao cupped his hands in thanks, his knuckles whitening slightly from the force. Yet his mind was racing: cultivating every day consumed two jin of beef and three jin of millet, while Uncle Zhao needed meat to replenish himself for his hard body technique as well. At this rate, poor Wulong Pond could not afford to support two martial artists practicing inner techniques.

It seemed he had to find some extra income—either sell wild game such as Mystic Frost Foxes in town, or figure out how to develop Wulong Pond's aquatic produce. He could not simply sit back and eat through his savings.

Zhao Tieying did not notice his thoughts. Nodding, he continued, "From now on, you must cultivate every day wearing thirty jin of Refined Mountain Pattern Armor and carrying an Iron-rimmed Rattan Shield. Martial artists mostly fight in battle formations. Only by getting used to the weight of armor first can you properly wield the force of the Breathing Technique in a real fight, without the armor slowing your movements and disrupting your breathing."

He paused, suddenly recalling something, then added, "Oh, right. The Silk Scroll Notes also contain the recipe for the Mystic Dragon Secret Medicine at the end. Has Young Master memorized it all?"

Lin Zhao nodded. "I have memorized it all. Rest easy, Uncle Zhao."

He knew perfectly well that cultivating upper-grade inner techniques generally required supplementary secret medicines. They could accelerate the accumulation of force, nourish the meridians, and reduce the risk of cultivation deviation.

The recipe for this Mystic Dragon Secret Medicine was not especially demanding: nine qian of adult Black Dragon Blood, one adult Black Dragon Gallbladder, calcined Mystic Armored Spirit Turtle Shell powder, Moon Spirit Grass, Nine Profound Rot, Pangolin Dragon Essence, and Azure Spirit Jade Dust.

Other than Pangolin Dragon Essence, the remaining ingredients could all be found in the medicine markets of Yingtian Prefecture. Calcined Mystic Armored Spirit Turtle Shell powder was more expensive, but could still be bought if he scraped together enough money. Moon Spirit Grass and Nine Profound Rot were common herbs in the wilds, while Azure Spirit Jade Dust could be obtained by buying scraps from jade craftsmen.

Even Black Dragon Blood and Black Dragon Gallbladders were not particular about the species. Water dragons and mountain dragons from the Jianghuai region would do; rarer breeds merely produced stronger medicinal effects.

But this Pangolin Dragon Essence had become a hard bone blocking his path.

According to the Great Ming Exotic Beasts Illustrated Record, the Pangolin Dragon was the fiercest exotic beast from Jianghuai to the Northern Frontier, aside from the Pond Fiend. It was over three zhang long, its scales as hard as refined iron. One bite could snap a tree trunk as thick as a bowl's mouth. Possessing boundless strength and skilled at burrowing, it gave ordinary Martial Trainees no chance even to flee.

This thing was not only an "alchemy treasure material" in the mouths of martial artists, but also scarce "exotic beast material" within the military. Even Imperial Guard hunting parties often formed teams to hunt them in the Northern Frontier.

More strangely, Pangolin Dragons had an "obsession with treasure." Silver ingots, jade artifacts, even gold-inlaid weapons—anything that glittered would be dragged into their dens and kept as a "collection."

To deal with an adult Pangolin Dragon, one either had to hire a Grandmaster Warrior wielding a Hundred-refined Treasure Blade to meet it head-on, or gather more than five peak Martial Masters. They would first lay traps coated in Scale Dissolving Powder, bind its limbs with Trip Ropes, then use Strong Crossbows to volley at the gaps in its scales, wearing it down until it was exhausted before they could kill it.

Before the Legendary Master Warrior Marquis Dingyuan Qiu Fu became famous, he had accomplished the feat of fighting a Pangolin Dragon alone. That Northern Frontier Pangolin Dragon had previously wounded three Garrison Martial Masters and even slapped a newly advanced young Martial Master to death alive. Yet Qiu Fu chased it for three days and three nights with a Yang Family Spear, eventually slaying it inside a mountain cave. He even dug ten thousand taels of silver and two chests of jade artifacts from the previous dynasty out of its lair. To this day, the matter was still told as a fine tale among the Border Army.

Such a vicious exotic beast naturally had Dragon Essence expensive enough to terrify people. In Yingtian Prefecture's medicine markets, a small porcelain bottle of Pangolin Dragon Essence cost three hundred taels of silver. That sum could buy five sets of Refined Mountain Pattern Armor, twenty adult Tenant Farmers, or one hundred plow oxen—equal to two years of Lin Family Fortress's Land Rent income.

With Lin Zhao's current assets, even if he sold all the poor farmland along Wulong Pond, he could not scrape together that much silver.

"I've only just entered the Martial Trainee Realm. Millet and wheat, along with beef to nourish my body, are enough to sustain my qi and blood. I have no immediate use for secret medicine, so there's no hurry. I can look for it slowly." Lin Zhao spoke lightly, but his fingers quietly clenched. He knew that he would probably have to wait until he entered the Martial Master Realm and could condense Mystic Dragon Aura to protect his body before he had the ability to obtain Pangolin Dragon Essence.

In the days that followed, Lin Zhao threw himself completely into cultivation. Every day, he rose at Mao Hour and first practiced the Mystic Dragon Breathing Technique for one shichen. After breakfast at Chen Hour, he donned Mountain Pattern Armor, carried an Iron-rimmed Rattan Shield, and ran around Lin Family Fortress. Once he had completed fifty laps, he practiced shield blocks. After lunch at Wu Hour, he rested for half a shichen before practicing the basic forms of the Mystic Dragon Sword Technique. At Shen Hour, he learned how to break down moves from Zhao Tieying. At You Hour, he practiced the Breathing Technique for another shichen. With the Proficiency Panel, he could see progress in every sword swing and every breath, so he did not find it dull in the slightest.

Outside of cultivation, Zhao Tieying also taught him common martial knowledge from the jianghu and military, saving him from taking many detours.

According to Zhao Tieying, the core of inner breathing was to use specific Breathing Rhythms together with bodily movements to stimulate the hidden force within one's bloodline, then fuse that force into the sinews and bones to strengthen the physique in every aspect.

This strengthening was far fiercer than ordinary exercise, which was why one had to eat heavily after every cultivation session. Do not listen to the nonsense spread through the jianghu about "Fasting Qi Training"; those were all deceptive tricks. No matter how formidable a martial artist was, they still had to eat to replenish qi and blood. A Grandmaster Warrior could eat thirty jin of beef in one meal, while the Legendary Master Warrior Qiu Fu could eat an entire ox in one sitting.

Although all inner techniques strengthened the body, each had its own focus. The Mystic Dragon Breathing Technique excelled most at defense. Once it reached minor mastery and one condensed a Qi Seed to enter the Martial Master Realm, one's strength and speed would both double, while one's ability to withstand blows would far surpass that of ordinary people. By then, a thin layer of pale-blue aura would condense over the surface of both arms. It felt as if they were covered in a layer of Soft Iron. Though it could not make one impervious to blades and spears, an ordinary Ring-pommel Sword could at most leave a white mark, while blunt weapons would have more than half their force dispersed.

This thin aura was called "Mystic Dragon Aura" by jianghu people. The Ministry of War classified it as Military Inner Force, while the Northern Guard Office of the Imperial Guard called it Body Protecting True Energy. To win over martial artists, they had even concocted the claim that it was the "Great Ancestor's Personal Inner Force Method, passed down through the army to protect the Ming Dynasty."

Lin Zhao secretly laughed when he heard that. That was probably made up by the Ministry of War. But jokes aside, he also understood that no matter what it was called, Mystic Dragon Aura was a genuine life-saving ability.

Once one cultivated to the Grandmaster Warrior Realm, Mystic Dragon Aura could cover the entire body. At that point, even dressed in a single layer of clothing, one could take an arrow from a Ten-stone Strong Crossbow head-on. Its resistance to blows would rival the scales of a Pangolin Dragon. That was a true "expert," someone who could charge through a rain of arrows on the battlefield and tear open the enemy's formation by his own strength.

That was precisely why Lin Zhao had never believed the claim that his father had "died in battle at the frontier."

His father, Lin Yuanshan, had been a Grandmaster Warrior capable of condensing Mystic Dragon Aura over his entire body. Even the Tatar Eagle Archers could not shoot through his hard body technique. How could he have died so easily on a battlefield?

Even if he encountered a Tatar Thousand-man Squad, if he could not win and wanted to flee, no one could stop him. Even a Grandmaster Warrior of the same level would have to pay the price of severe injuries to keep him behind.

As for a Legendary Master Warrior making a move?

That was even less likely. Those peak experts either lived in seclusion or guarded an entire region. They had long risen above ordinary conflicts. Back then, Duke Wei Xu Qin had needed to prepare One Hundred Thousand Taels of Gold just to ask Mister Ye to act, and even then it depended on Mister Ye's mood.

The tree that rose above the forest would be destroyed first by the wind.

Lin Zhao understood it as clearly as a mirror: his father's death had most likely been a trap jointly laid by court nobles and factions within the Imperial Guard. His father had refused Duke Wei Xu Qin's recruitment and obstructed the private mine profits of the Bloody Hand General Zhou Yan at Anvil Mountain. He had made many enemies to begin with. Without the strength of a Grandmaster Warrior to back him, the fall of Lin Family Fortress had only been a matter of time.

Therefore, he had to keep his composure. Before he possessed absolute strength, the proper path was to stay quietly hidden in Lin Family Fortress and cultivate the Mystic Dragon Breathing Technique until it was solid.

The Great Ancestor Emperor's nine-character maxim from when he had conquered the realm—"Build high walls, store abundant grain, claim the throne slowly"—still suited him now. Only, he had no desire to claim kingship or dominate the world. He merely wanted to become a small fortress master capable of protecting his family property.

Power had always been meat on the edge of a blade. Without the ability, one should not touch it. As for courtly maneuvering, he knew himself that he was still far from capable.

[Mystic Dragon Breathing Technique Proficiency +3]

[Mystic Dragon Breathing Technique Proficiency +2]

[Mystic Dragon Sword Technique (Basic) Proficiency +1]

The numbers on the panel rose every day, and Lin Zhao cultivated with even greater enthusiasm. Aside from eating and sleeping, he poured almost all his time into cultivation, truly like a tireless "cultivation machine."

The servants of Lin Family Fortress rarely saw him in ordinary times. When they occasionally encountered him in the courtyard, he was either holding the "Dragon Coiling Pillar" breathing posture without moving, or wearing Mountain Pattern Armor and raising a Rattan Shield to receive Zhao Tieying's storm-like blade strikes. The Ring-pommel Sword in Zhao Tieying's hand had no edge, but it struck the shield with repeated bangs, numbing Lin Zhao's arms. Yet it also made his shield blocks increasingly proficient.

"Our Young Master is so young, yet he works himself so hard. When he practices, he cannot even be bothered to eat. It truly puts us to shame." Seeing that their fortress master could endure hardship better than they could, how could the Estate Guards still have the face to be lazy?

One Estate Guard had previously wanted to hide in the Woodshed and bask in the sun. The moment he heard that Lin Zhao was still practicing with his shield, he immediately picked up a woodcutter's axe and went to chop firewood. How could the Young Master be desperately cultivating while servants loafed around?

If word got out, not only would they receive Zhao Tieying's whip, they might even be driven out of the fortress.

Later, the Estate Guards resigned themselves to it. "Young Master is made for inner techniques. We can't compare. We should just chop firewood and farm properly, and make sure we don't hold him back."

Seeing Lin Zhao so focused, Zhao Tieying felt gratified from the bottom of his heart.

While Lin Zhao cultivated, Zhao Tieying and the Old Steward handled the fortress's miscellaneous affairs: collecting Land Rent, repairing Farm Tools, and dealing with Grain Merchants in town. They did not let trivial matters delay Lin Zhao in the slightest.

But there were some matters he could not decide himself—for example, Field Boundary Disputes between Tenant Farmers, or Livestock Crop Damage caused by cattle and sheep from neighboring villages. Lin Zhao had to personally judge such cases.

Only then could the Estate Guards and Tenant Farmers acknowledge him as their fortress master and establish his authority.

Lin Zhao was not afraid of such matters. In his previous life, he had read a vernacular edition of the Great Ming Code in modern times. He handled these small disputes between neighbors with ease, judging every case fairly enough that the Tenant Farmers accepted his rulings.

The north wind grew increasingly fierce, and each frost and snowfall was heavier than the last. In the blink of an eye, Lunar December arrived. For Lin Family Fortress north of the river, Lunar December meant raging cold waves and snow heavy enough to seal the doors. Even the surface of Wulong Pond froze beneath half a chi of ice.

Many Tenant Farmers' thatched huts had long fallen into disrepair. Three collapsed one after another in the wind and snow, leaving the Tenant Farmers clutching their children and stamping their feet against the cold.

There was no way to repair houses in such weather. Lin Zhao's heart softened, and he had Zhao Tieying temporarily settle those Tenant Farmers in the fortress's empty rooms. He assigned them work according to age: young wives helped in the kitchen, cooking and mending; strong adult men were incorporated into the Fort Guards, training Ring-pommel Sword chops and Pear Blossom Spear thrusts under Zhao Tieying; the elderly dried grain and fed livestock; while children helped gather firewood and sweep the floors.

With that, Lin Family Fortress's Fort Guard force suddenly expanded to fifty men.

All of these Fort Guards were commanded by Zhao Tieying. Every day, aside from practicing martial arts for two shichen, they had to repair the fortress walls and clear snow. When spring came, they would also have to plant crops. Lin Family Fortress's current assets could not support full-time soldiers, so they could only farm half the time and train the other half.

Everyone received rations according to their labor: one mixed millet-and-wheat flour bun each day, along with a bowl of radish vegetable soup. If they trained diligently, they could receive an extra small spoonful of wheat bran in the evening.

These millet-and-wheat buns were softer than pure coarse-grain cakes, but they were far inferior to white-flour steamed buns. With Lin Family Fortress's current harvest, only Lin Zhao and Zhao Tieying could eat white flour. After all, those practicing inner techniques consumed great amounts of qi and blood, and coarse grains alone could not sustain them.

Lin Zhao's appetite had become especially frightening. In one meal, he could eat five white-flour steamed buns, three jin of beef, and drink a bowl of goat milk. His three meals a day equaled five days' worth of food for an ordinary strong farmhand.

Most of that food was transformed into force by the Mystic Dragon Breathing Technique and fused into his sinews and bones. Only a small portion became waste and was expelled. Even that small portion made him visit the latrine three times a day. Zhao Tieying would tease him, saying, "You eat a lot and pass it quickly. You're good material for inner techniques."

Zhao Tieying, on the other hand, had long passed the period of rapid inner force growth. The Eagle Soaring Hard Body Technique he practiced was also a lower-grade inner technique. When he was not deliberately circulating his power, his appetite was only twice that of an ordinary farmhand. One jin of beef and two millet-and-wheat buns were enough for a meal.

Lin Zhao's generosity left the Tenant Farmers deeply grateful. In private, they all praised him. "Our Young Master may be young, but his heart is kind. Not only does he give us a place to live, he feeds us too. He's far better than Fortress Master Zhang next door!" "From now on, whatever Young Master tells us to do, we'll do it without hesitation!"

As for Lin Zhao himself, he remained buried in cultivation. Each day, watching the number "Mystic Dragon Breathing Technique: First Level (333/1000)" slowly rise on the panel filled him with a sense of accomplishment.

But he had not let down his guard. Lunar December was precisely when roving soldiers and bandits ran wildest. In the region north of the river, scattered Border Army deserters and road-blocking bandits often formed groups to raid fortresses.

To those desperate outlaws, Lin Family Fortress might be poor, but it had grain and livestock. It was still a piece of "fat meat."

Fortunately, Zhao Tieying was there. This former officer of the Northern Guard Office of the Imperial Guard had killed Tatar soldiers with his Eagle Soaring Hard Body Technique. The name "Iron Arm Zhao" still carried some deterrent power within a hundred li of Wulong Pond. Ordinary petty thieves in groups of three or five did not dare come near once they heard Zhao Tieying was guarding the fortress.