A Visit to the Ancestral Court

Wang Ming climbed out of the water pit, stepped onto the shore, and changed into the dry clothes he had brought in advance.

This trip to the Ancient Tomb had been a waste. He had hoped to find the upper volume of the Nine Yin Manual here, but most of what was inside turned out to be the lower volume, basically useless.

"Tch. Other protagonists come here to grab an experience pack. What a load of crap. Never mind whether a modern person can even read it—without the general outline and internal cultivation methods, sure, you could train into an expert, but you'd most likely end up looking like Chen Xuanfeng and Mei Chaofeng."

Leaving empty-handed like this gnawed at him. Traveling in ancient times wasn't like the modern era with high-speed trains or planes—comfortable transport that could get you there in half a day at most.

It had taken half a month driving a horse-drawn carriage to reach Zhongnan Mountain. The journey was torturous; his body felt nearly shaken apart. That wasn't an exaggeration from Wang Ming. The carriage wheels were made of wood, with no shock absorption whatsoever—every jolt was fully absorbed by the passengers inside.

Suddenly, a series of bell tolls rang out from the mountain.

They jolted Wang Ming from his thoughts. He looked toward the direction of the sound.

"Quanzhen Sect?" he murmured under his breath.

His eyes lit up. He activated his Lightness Skill and swiftly rushed from the Ancient Tomb toward Chongyang Palace.

The Quanzhen Sect as it stood now posed no real threat to Wang Ming. Wang Chongyang had long since cooled off, and Zhou Botong was trapped on Peach Blossom Island by Huang Yaoshi. He had met Ma Yu in the desert; from his fight with Mei Chaofeng, Ma Yu was at best a peak first-rate expert, just shy of the Houtian realm. The other Seven Disciples of Quanzhen were about the same—nothing to fear.

The Heavenly Dipper Array was the last resort old Wang had left his disciples. Formed properly, it could trap Huang Yaoshi, which showed its power wasn't trivial. Impressive as the array was, Wang Ming wasn't afraid. He knew its weakness—what was there to fear?

Wang Ming slipped into Chongyang Palace without a hitch. No one noticed an intruder. If a bunch of ordinary disciples could spot him, he might as well go find a block of tofu and bash his head against it—his martial arts would be as good as wasted.

By the time he reached Chongyang Palace, the sky had darkened. He had spent quite a while exploring the Ancient Tomb.

After searching around for a bit, he finally located the Quanzhen Sect's Scripture Library. A few disciples stood guard outside, but such sparse defenses couldn't stop him.

Sneaking inside, he found the first and second floors packed with Daoist scriptures, Buddhist sutras, and Confucian classics. That made sense—this was the Quanzhen Sect, which emphasized the unity of the Three Teachings.

But none of this was useful to him. He didn't linger and continued searching for something worthwhile.

On the third and fourth floors, he finally found various martial arts manuals, but they were all common stuff—Five Tigers Severing Gate Saber, Eagle Claw Skill...

Disappointed, he headed for the top floor. This level was much smaller than the ones below, barely the size of an attic. He found only three books there, each stored in an exquisite wooden box with thread-bound pages.

One was Wang Chongyang's memoir. Another was the Quanzhen Sect's Lightness Skill, Golden Goose Skill.

The last was the sect's basic sword technique, with the mysteries of the Heavenly Dipper Array appended at the end.

He flipped through the memoir. It had little substance. It rambled on mystically, claiming that Wang Chongyang had achieved perfect merit and could undergo Feathered Ascension. Dying was dying, but he had to play this game, leaving his descendants with a lingering hope. Sure enough, others founded sects, but he founded a religion—a religion needed doctrine and aspirations.

Sects lasted at most a century before vanishing; only religions could endure through the ages. Shaolin and Wudang were clear examples. Even if the Quanzhen Sect's ancestral temple was destroyed, its legacy still spread through the world.

The Quanzhen sword technique was decent. Its moves weren't as exquisite as Five Peaks Swordplay, but its efficiency in utilizing true qi was something Five Peaks Swordplay couldn't match.

Wang Ming didn't think much of Golden Goose Skill at first—he had plenty of Lightness Skills in his repertoire. But when he flipped through it, he was startled. The name sounded utterly low-class, but the skill itself was formidable. A master of it could walk thirty-seven steps in midair, rising three feet straight up—astonishing and unparalleled.

Wang Ming quickly memorized the manual, then continued searching the attic for hidden compartments or the like.

Unfortunately, it was a wasted effort. The Quanzhen Inner Skill and Innate Skill weren't in this Scripture Library. After three thorough searches, he still found nothing. Helpless, Wang Ming had to leave.

He glanced back at the attic behind him.

"This defense is way too simple? It's practically unguarded."

It didn't take long for Wang Ming to figure it out.

Sure, his infiltration had been easy, almost like there was no defense at all. But that was because his cultivation had reached the Houtian realm. How many in the current martial world had that level of skill? Those who did would find those manuals useless—they couldn't improve their strength anymore. Having them or not made no difference. It was like a top high school student picking up elementary textbooks—the effect on improving their grades was nearly zero.

The real core was the inner skill. It was actually decent—Wang Ming had studied it from Guo Jing—but the top experts in the martial world looked down on it. The training speed was too slow. Practicing it in the martial world was like asking for death; the rivers and lakes were full of constant, brutal conflict, and this skill couldn't keep up. The Quanzhen Sect was all Daoists, plus they had numbers on their side, with the First Under Heaven Wang Chongyang and later Zhou Botong. They rarely traveled the martial world, avoiding frequent fights, so they could cultivate in peace.

Wang Ming walked to a main hall in Chongyang Palace and looked at the portrait of Wang Chongyang hanging in the center. Suddenly, a thought struck him—Lin Yuantu had left the Bixie Sword Manual hidden in a portrait. Could this be the same?

He entered the hall, took down the portrait, and sure enough, there was a hidden compartment behind it.

He pulled out the book inside. It was what he had been most hoping for this time—Innate Skill.

As he flipped through the manual, some of his doubts were cleared. No wonder Wang Chongyang had abandoned a beautiful woman who loved him to become a Daoist monk.

This skill was something like a virginity-preserving art—a practice that required maintaining one's chastity. Breaking its precepts before mastering it would either severely damage one's vitality or, in the worst case, cause instant death.

The restrictions were heavy, but the advantages were many. Innate Skill was a Daoist breathing and exhalation cultivation method, the very martial art Wang Chongyang had used to dominate the Mount Hua Sword Debate and suppress all rivals. What Wang Chongyang cultivated was this exclusive, untaught secret—Innate Skill. The mysteries within could push a person's potential and awareness to their limits, plunging their martial arts into an unfathomable, transcendent realm.

After reading the manual, he put it back in the compartment, restored the traces, and left the hall. Just as he was about to leave Zhongnan Mountain, he overheard two young Daoists talking.

He learned that one of them was called Zhen Zhibing. He immediately stopped and sized up this famous Dragon Knight.

This guy was truly impressive!

Among the NPCs Wang Ming knew, he was one of the few who had successfully slept with a female lead.

So, Wang Ming knocked out both Daoists and sent a stream of true qi into Zhen Zhibing's body.

This stream of true qi...

Whatever it was, from now on, Zhen Zhibing would definitely be a Daoist devoted to the Way. Maybe he could even lead the Quanzhen Sect to new heights.

To be honest, among the third-generation disciples of Quanzhen, the most capable were Zhen Zhibing and Zhao Zhijing. But Zhao Zhijing was dead set on becoming sect leader and turned traitor.

Zhen Zhibing, maybe he thought being a Daoist wasn't flashy enough, so he stubbornly reclassed as a Dragon Knight.

"Ah, forget it. Time to scram. If someone finds two knocked-out little Daoists, I won't be able to get out so easily."

With that, he quietly slipped out of Chongyang Palace, flicked his sleeves, took not a single cloud with him, and vanished into the shadows, his deeds and name hidden.

Earlier, to head for the Ancient Tomb, he'd stashed his unwieldy greatsword and luggage in a cave. Back at that cave now, Wang Ming sat cross-legged on a large rock and began tallying his gains from this trip.

The Ancient Tomb had basically been a wasted trip—hardly any real harvest.

What he'd gotten from Chongyang Palace was Quanzhen Swordplay, the Golden Goose Skill, and the Innate Skill.

"Purple Mist True Qi is falling behind more and more now. Those few palm strikes I traded with Hong Qigong clearly lacked staying power. The Innate Skill is a virgin's art, but I've got no interest in keeping my chastity in this world anyway. Practicing it won't hurt."

Wang Ming hesitated, weighing whether to switch techniques.

After some thought, he decided to make the switch. In this world, the only thing that could match the Innate Skill was the Nine Yin Manual. But compared to the Nine Yin Manual, the Innate Skill was still the better choice for Wang Ming.

The Primal Chaos Technique, Purple Mist True Qi, and the Innate Skill were all inner arts from the same lineage. They could be converted smoothly without needing to disperse his cultivation and start over. The Nine Yin Manual might require him to scrap his current cultivation and rebuild.

Wang Ming slowly began converting the Purple Mist True Qi within him. The process went very smoothly—after all, the Purple Haze Divine Skill was originally created by Hao Datong, and its foundation was the Quanzhen Sect's inner arts.

All that dense Purple Mist True Qi inside him, when converted to cultivate the Innate Skill, was only enough for Wang Ming to break through to the fourth layer.

Still, the newly formed Innate Skill was exceptionally pure. When he used it to execute the Five Peaks Swordplay, its power was even greater than before.