Nine Realms

Chen Ping'an looked skeptical. Ning Yao glared at him and pointed at that string of words. "It really is pronounced 'Roll'! This fist move was comprehended while watching rain in Great Li. Its momentum rolls onward, its fist force like an ink-wash downpour. After falling into the mortal world, it rolls across the Dragon Wall of the Great Li Imperial Palace, pouring straight down!"

Chen Ping'an focused on the several diagrams of fist momentum, each completed in a single flowing stroke. Like troops arrayed for battle, they were crowded onto one page, so each little figure throwing a punch was not large. The charcoal drawings were not particularly detailed either. Fortunately, Chen Ping'an had sharp eyes and could still see every last detail beneath the dim lamplight. After hearing Miss Ning's words, which he did not entirely understand, the young man murmured, "That fist move sounds pretty formidable."

Ning Yao leaned her head slightly closer and looked at those diagrams in the picture album. Nodding, she said, "There's a fist technique that has been passed down through the martial world for thousands of years without ever being lost. It bears some resemblance to this fist manual."

Chen Ping'an turned his head and asked curiously, "How so?"

In the dusky yellow firelight, the girl's long brows curved slightly, like a peach branch bent by the spring breeze.

Holding back a smile, she said, "There's a fist technique in the martial world that young and old alike can use. It's called Turtle Fist. You just flail wildly, and you're guaranteed to beat an old master to death with a barrage of random punches."

The young man said helplessly, "Who talks about it like that?"

Chen Ping'an pictured it in his mind. Wasn't that Gu Can's specialty and famous ultimate art? As he remembered it, Gu Can's mother had once had an unpleasant dispute many years ago, outside a cosmetics shop in Apricot Blossom Alley. At the time, Gu Can had only just learned to walk. His father, being an Outsider and rarely ever home, had long since been forgotten by the neighbors of Mud Bottle Alley. Back then, the women had begun to worry that whenever their men passed the widow Madam Gu's door, they would unconsciously slow their steps. The mere clothes the woman had hung out on bamboo poles could effortlessly hook away their men's souls. Later, Granny Ma gathered five or six women and went together to block Madam Gu's courtyard gate. Madam Gu suffered quite a bit in that battle, but Granny Ma and the others did not come away with much advantage either. Both sides were wounded. Yet as the fight dragged on, Madam Gu was ultimately outnumbered; two fists could not defeat four hands. Even her clothes were torn apart. Her garments had been thin to begin with, and in that instant, springtime splendor spilled into view. It drove those women, already ashamed of their own inferiority, into a frenzy. They scratched, clawed, bit, and used every means at their disposal, while the men around the alley swallowed mouthful after mouthful of saliva.

Fortunately, Chen Ping'an happened to return to town from the Dragon Kiln at that time. Madam Gu had looked after him for years, so he stepped forward and helped Gu Can's mother block many underhanded attacks. From beginning to end, the straw-sandaled youth had not dared fight back. Chen Ping'an was not afraid of causing trouble; he was afraid that one punch from him would kill someone.

By then, amid Old Man Yao's shouts and curses, the young man had already crossed countless mountains and rivers. At merely twelve or thirteen, he had walked roads that many old townsfolk had not covered in several lifetimes.

At the time, the young man and the woman sat at the courtyard gate, while Gu Can remained locked inside. Presumably, she had not wanted her child to see his mother in such a bedraggled state.

The young man turned and pointed to the corner of the woman's mouth.

The woman casually curled her lip, then stretched out her thumb and roughly wiped away the blood at the corner of her mouth.

Inside the courtyard, the child cried his heart out, calling for his mother again and again.

The woman first smiled at the straw-sandaled youth, then with a rush, tears rolled from her eyes.

The next day, an unwilling little tagalong appeared beside the straw-sandaled youth.

Ning Yao's question interrupted Chen Ping'an's distant thoughts. "What are you thinking about?"

Chen Ping'an asked, "You said that after Gu Can and his mother left town, they followed the River-Cutting True Lord to Book Scroll Lake. Can they really live good lives there?"

Ning Yao asked in return, "Do you think that mother and son lived badly in Mud Bottle Alley?"

Chen Ping'an thought for a moment. "That brat Gu Can doesn't have much of a conscience, and he was young, so he definitely didn't think life was hard. But Gu Can's mother... she probably didn't think the town was a good place, especially not the women of Mud Bottle Alley and Apricot Blossom Alley. She didn't like a single one of them. And I think Gu Can's mother seemed born not to belong in this town. She always felt unwilling to accept things. According to Old Man Yao, that was called an unsettled heart. When a man's heart is unsettled, it's called having his ambitions in faraway places; when a woman's heart is unsettled, she's bound to become a red apricot reaching over the wall. I don't think that's quite right..."

Ning Yao suddenly straightened up and slapped the table. "What nonsense are you spouting? Are you learning the fist manual or not?!"

Chen Ping'an jumped. "Please continue, Miss Ning."

Ning Yao said irritably, "There's no point telling you about cultivation, because you are destined to be unable to cultivate. So I can only tell you about martial learning, about the martial path."

Chen Ping'an had just been about to say something when the girl continued on her own. "The martial path has Nine Realms. Of course, some say there is actually a Tenth Realm beyond the Ninth, just as every great dynasty keeps a group of Imperial Chess Players..."

At this point, the girl's mood brightened considerably. Smiling sweetly, she asked, "Chen Ping'an, do you know what an Imperial Chess Player is?"

Chen Ping'an honestly shook his head.

Radiance flowed across the girl's face. "In Go, ninth dan is the highest rank, equivalent to a first-rank grand official in the imperial court, I suppose. But some once-in-a-century geniuses are honored as 'tenth-dan national masters.' Those people then receive all sorts of fancy, exclusive titles. Your Great Li Dynasty's Imperial Chess Players are especially embarrassing. I hear your ninth dan is only as strong as the Sui Dynasty's seventh dan. In all of Great Li, only that fellow nicknamed Embroidered Tiger is truly regarded as an opponent by the Sui chess world. Oh, right. Do you know what Go is?"

Chen Ping'an nodded. "I do. I know some of the rules too, though I can't play myself. Song Jixin and Zhi Gui have a board and chess pieces at home."

The girl was full of disappointment. "Is that so?"

After the girl circled around the matter for so long, the young man still had no idea what the "Nine Realms" actually were.

The girl seemed to realize that she had been a little unreliable too. She coughed and said solemnly, "My mother once said that the Nine Realms of Martial Arts rise one step at a time, one stair at a time. But even if you reach the summit of the Ninth Realm, the final sight is like standing on one mountain and looking up at another in the distance, only to see its halfway point."

Chen Ping'an seemed thoughtful. "I understand."

Because the young man had seen such a scene with his own eyes.

The girl did not care whether he truly understood. She said, "The Nine Realms of Martial Arts are divided into body refinement, qi refinement, and spirit refinement, each with three levels. You must climb step by step. You cannot afford even one misstep, much less a wrong one. The firmer your footing, the better. Whether you move fast or slow is actually not so important. This differs somewhat from cultivation."

"The three realms of body refinement begin with the Mud Embryo Realm. You can tell from the name that it is as rough and crude as the Mud Bottle Alley where your house stands. But once you cultivate it to peak completion, your body becomes like a Mud Bodhisattva. Though formed from clay, it carries an extraordinary bearing. With Qi Sinks to Dantian, unmoving as a mountain, you have truly entered the martial path. In short, the essence of this realm lies in the word 'scatter,' and also the word 'sink.' A martial artist's talent, comprehension, and guiding master can all be seen at a glance."

"The second level is the Wood Embryo Realm. It means your physique begins to change from coarse to fine. At great completion, the texture of your skin will become intricate and orderly, as though talismans have been carved all over your body. Like... yes, like this Snake Gallstone picked from the stream. Though it may resemble an ordinary pebble on the outside, its inner nature is already completely different. The deeper meaning of this realm is 'Founding Disciple': widening the meridians, turning a narrow pathway like a goat's intestine into a broad highway that can accommodate passing carriages. Whether a martial artist's innate bones are good or poor will be decisively revealed in this realm."

As she spoke, the black-clothed girl held high the stone the young man had given her.

She gazed at the beautiful stone reflected in the lamplight and said softly, "The final realm of body refinement is called the Quicksilver Mirror Realm. Your blood becomes thick like mercury, yet lighter in weight, while your qi and blood gather into one. To cross its threshold, you must pass a tribulation called Mud Bodhisattva Crossing the River. Whether you can clear that final threshold, like Carp Leaping Over the Dragon Gate, depends on a martial artist's luck."

Chen Ping'an listened in a daze and stared blankly at the oil lamp. Its flame swayed, and his mind swayed with it.

The girl yawned and lay sprawled across the table. Lazily, she said, "That's about enough for now. The three realms of body refinement alone stop eighty percent of ranked martial artists, making it difficult for them to advance any further. You know the saying: the poor study literature, the rich study martial arts. Apart from my hometown, it holds true everywhere under heaven. Given your family circumstances and your comprehension, I reckon you should burn incense in gratitude if you can reach the second realm in this life."

Chen Ping'an asked, "Then how do I practice this fist manual?"

The girl raised a brow. "Tomorrow. I'm a little sleepy."

Chen Ping'an gave an acknowledging sound. "Then I'll take my basket to gather stones. I'll come find Miss Ning tomorrow."

The girl said, "If you trust me, leave the fist manual here. I'll take another look and see whether there are any flaws, whether it might be a trap or something."

Chen Ping'an smiled. "All right. But Miss Ning, please be careful with it. I still have to return this Mountain Shaking Manual to Gu Can exactly as it is someday."

The girl turned and frowned. "How many times do you need to say it before you can rest easy?!"

The young man smiled, went to the corner, slung the basket over his back, and as he left the house, did not forget to remind her, "Miss Ning, don't forget to lock the courtyard gate."

The girl lay on the table without turning around and waved her hand weakly. "I know, I know. Why do you have more to say than my father?"

Light as a swallow, the young man vanished into the alley.

Once Chen Ping'an had presumably left Mud Bottle Alley, the girl immediately sat upright. With eyes as though she were glaring at a mortal enemy, she fiercely stared at the Mountain Shaking Manual. Then her entire body instantly sagged, and she flopped back onto the table, looking utterly miserable as she muttered to herself, "How am I supposed to teach this thing? I was born with the finest Sword Immortal physique in the world. Why would I ever need to walk these foothill roads? I can't even remember all the names of the three hundred and sixty-five acupoints, and as for how qi naturally circulates, I've known that since I was in my mother's womb..."

The girl clutched at her hair with both hands, grief-stricken and indignant.

Suddenly, a timid voice sounded from outside the door. "Miss Ning?"

Ning Yao's body stiffened as she slowly turned around and saw an exceptionally punchable dark face.

She put on a stern expression and said nothing.

The young man swallowed and apologized. "I was afraid you might forget to lock the gate, so I came back to remind you. Also, if Miss Ning gets hungry tonight, I can first go to Liu Xianyang's house and make some late-night food, bring it over for you, and then head to the stream."

The girl swept out one hand.

The young man immediately ran away.

All along the way, Chen Ping'an's mind was filled with the image of the fist manual's first move.

The fist moved and the body followed, feet never leaving the ground, as though wading through rotten mud. Its momentum was like heavy snow reaching the knees, advancing slowly.

The young man himself did not notice that when he tried to practice the fist stance according to the diagrams, he unconsciously changed the pace, length, and depth of every breath.

The young man even had a wild thought: wouldn't practicing fists in the stream be even better?

Before Qi Jingchun lay two seals carved from the finest Snake Gallstone. Neither was large, and neither had yet been engraved with seal script.

During the day, that young scholar with a temperament as gentle as jade had visited the school. Later, in private conversation, the Confucian gentleman who had come from afar asked him a question. "Sir, would you be willing to inherit someone's final wish and continue to bring peace to all ages?"

Qi Jingchun had answered then, "Allow me to consider it."

This was clearly not a particularly satisfying answer. Yet that young gentleman, renowned throughout half a continent, had not pressed him relentlessly. With Mr. Qi, whom he had long admired, he chatted about the local customs of the town and the shifting winds and clouds beyond it, then took his leave.

From beginning to end, the young gentleman had not asked how that jade tablet would be dealt with.

But Qi Jingchun knew perfectly well that the gentleman from the Confucian academies of East Treasure Bottle Continent could endure it. The Golden Boy Jade Girl from the Daoist sect, the scripture-protecting masters from the great and small Buddhist Chan temples, that ascetic monk famous beyond the seas, and the representative of the Military Strategists—none of those three factions would likely care much for Cliff Academy's dignity. They especially would not heed Qi Jingchun's wishes, and would surely retrieve their respective suppressive objects without hesitation.

But all of this was within his expectations.

Qi Jingchun sat upright, carving knife in hand. For once, he found himself somewhat troubled, unsure what seal script to engrave upon the seals. "'To kill oneself and achieve benevolence, sacrifice one's life for righteousness.' For that child, it seems a little too grand, neither appropriate nor auspicious. 'Let the heart rest in peace, let the body stand upright'—is that too hollow? But if I casually chisel out three hastily made seals, would that not seem far too insincere?"

Qi Jingchun turned to look out at the night sky. Within the curtain of darkness, stars dotted the heavens like luminous pearls suspended upon black silk.

Qi Jingchun stared blankly, lost in thought. Only after a long while did he return to himself, pick up one seal, and begin carving.

In the end, he carved four simple, ancient seal-script characters: Calm Heart, Content Spirit. In particular, the first character, "Calm," was fullest in spirit and meaning, encompassing all things.

Qi Jingchun gently set down the seal in his hand, with its underside facing upward.

Qi Jingchun felt as though a heavy burden had been lifted.

At a slight stirring of intent from this Confucian scholar with frosted temples, he casually swept his sleeve. Soon, Prosperity and Progress arose across the tabletop, mountains and rivers undulating as they unfolded in sequence.

At last, Qi Jingchun focused his gaze and saw the young man and girl sitting side by side within the ruined ancestral house in a shabby town alley, discussing the broad outline of the Nine Realms of Martial Arts.

Beyond the Nine Realms of Martial Arts, there was a Tenth Realm.

Qi Jingchun had long read ten thousand volumes, and was no stranger to either court or martial world. Naturally, he knew the matters of martial arts.

A trace of amusement surfaced on Qi Jingchun's nearly rigid face.

So this Confucian Sage, who presided over one corner of heaven and earth, made a harmless joke.

On the second personal seal, he engraved three characters.

Chen Shiyi.