Talking Them Around and Con Games

That night, Qin Sang and Mingyue did their evening recitations together and studied the Daoist scriptures.

Like the Netherworld Scripture, Qin Sang could not understand it either. Fortunately, Daoist Jixin patiently explained it to him. Qin Sang studied diligently, finding a piece of charcoal to record what he learned.

Late that night, after returning to his room, Qin Sang took out the Netherworld Scripture again. Comparing it against the characters he had just learned, he tried to make sense of the text. It was exceedingly difficult, but he never tired of it.

The next day, Daoist Jixin went down the mountain to perform a ritual and returned at noon. His donkey carried a sack of coarse grain. That afternoon, Mingyue steamed a pot of vegetable corn buns, pan-fried a jar of salted fish, and helped Daoist Jixin sort out his luggage and medicine chest.

On the ninth day of the month, Qin Sang woke to find Daoist Jixin gone. Only after asking Mingyue did he learn that he had set off at tiger hour. That day, he and Mingyue followed Daoist Jixin's instructions, and nothing went wrong.

Early on the morning of the tenth, Qin Sang's leg hurt less after being treated with medicine every day, and the exhaustion in his body had finally faded. At dawn, he was already outside the house practicing the stances of Tiger Subduing Long Fist.

"Senior Brother, what kind of fist technique are you practicing?"

Holding a bowl of porridge, Mingyue sat on a nearby stone. Seeing how impressive Qin Sang's stances looked, he was itching to give it a try.

"This martial art is called Tiger Subduing Long Fist. What, hasn't the Daoist taught you martial arts?"

Qin Sang merely practiced exerting force, yet he had already broken into a hot sweat. His whole body felt unblocked and refreshed. Wiping away his sweat, he asked in return.

"No." Mingyue shook his head, biting the tip of his chopsticks, his face full of curiosity. "Senior Brother, does Master know martial arts too?"

"How would I know? I've only been here a few days."

Qin Sang rolled his eyes, quietly pondering. He had assumed that since Daoist Jixin dared enter the mountains to gather herbs and feared neither jackals nor tigers, he might possess martial arts to defend himself. That was why he had deliberately practiced in front of Mingyue, hoping to draw him into talking.

If he knew martial arts, there was no reason not to teach his disciple. From their interactions over the past two days, Qin Sang could tell that Daoist Jixin doted on Mingyue and treated him like his own son.

Could he really just be an ordinary Daoist priest?

"Do you normally only study scripture recitation and medicine with the Daoist? Haven't you learned any spells?"

"Spells?"

Mingyue looked utterly baffled. "Most of the time, I recite scriptures and learn characters. I've also studied divination books. I can interpret fortune sticks and written omens, trace and draw talismans, but I'm not skilled at it, so Master still doesn't dare let me do it in front of others. I also know the procedures for rituals and can assist Master. Master has taught me to identify medicinal herbs, diagnose illnesses, and prescribe remedies too, but he says I need another twenty years of study before I can complete my apprenticeship. Otherwise, I'd be risking people's lives."

Qin Sang's eyes lit up. "Aren't talismans spells? That day, I heard that couple say their Household was unsettled. The Daoist gave them a talisman and said it could invite good fortune, avert disaster, and drive away evil spirits. Isn't that a spell?"

Mingyue chuckled, glanced around, then lowered his voice. "Senior Brother, I'll tell you, but don't repeat it outside. Master said it before: all of that is a lie."

A lie?

There were gods above in this world!

Qin Sang said indignantly, "If it doesn't work, aren't you afraid people will come knocking?"

"Who can say what counts as accurate and what doesn't in matters so mysterious and profound?"

Mingyue swayed his head as he spoke. "Even if they do come knocking, there are ways of talking them around. Senior Brother, you'll understand sooner or later."

Qin Sang was deeply wounded. He was listless for the entire day. Mingyue pestered him to teach him Tiger Subduing Long Fist, so Qin Sang could only promise to teach him once his leg had healed.

In the blink of an eye, Qin Sang had spent over twenty days at the Daoist temple, and the master and two disciples had truly become familiar with one another.

During those days, Qin Sang worked hard at practicing his fist technique, reciting scriptures, and learning characters.

Aside from rituals, Daoist Jixin did not avoid Qin Sang when teaching Mingyue medicine, divination, fortune-stick interpretation, and talisman arts. Only then did Qin Sang confirm that it truly was all smooth talk and trickery, and he gave up hope completely.

Still, those tricks concealed many principles that saw clearly through the ways of the world, and he gained quite a bit from them.

The injury on his leg improved day by day. Unable to sit idle, he first cut bamboo into water pipes and diverted water from the stream into the courtyard, where he built a small stone pool.

After trying several methods, he finally succeeded.

With that, Mingyue no longer had to do his heaviest chore. Moreover, water flowed constantly through the bamboo tubes, and the vegetables and medicinal herbs in the garden grew better and better. Not only did Mingyue call him Senior Brother with growing affection, Daoist Jixin's opinion of him also improved somewhat.

Next, Qin Sang made a bamboo ladder, climbed onto the roof, and replaced all the broken tiles on the rooms where the three of them lived.

Later, feeling that the food at the Daoist temple was truly bland, he devised several traps and actually caught a few wild rabbits and pheasants.

Mingyue urged Qin Sang not to kill living creatures at the Daoist temple. If he dirtied the temple, Master would punish him. Qin Sang could only set up an earthen stove by the stream. Outside the Daoist temple, Daoist Jixin could no longer control him.

This world did not have as many seasonings as his previous life, and he knew little of cooking. The grassy and earthy stench of wild game was hard to remove, so he could only roast it and sprinkle it with salt. The taste was passable.

Mingyue could not bear to kill them and did not dare to, but he dared eat them—and ate with relish.

Another ten-odd days passed. The leaves withered, and the weather grew cold.

The wind on the mountain bit harder than it did below. The master and disciples performed their evening recitations in Green Goat Hall. The cold wind found its way through every crack and crevice, blowing into the great hall and making the flame of the oil lamp sway.

Qin Sang stretched, set down his goose-feather pen, and adjusted the lamp wick. Seeing that the master and disciple beside him would need some time to finish their evening recitations, he said softly, "Daoist, I'll return to my room and sleep first."

As he spoke, he picked up the pages he had just written, wrapped his robe tightly around himself, and left the great hall. The bone in his leg had fully healed, and he was planning a trip to Three Witches City.

Reading changed one's fate.

Over the past month, Qin Sang had studied even harder than he had during his final year of high school in his previous life.

Today, he had finally recognized and understood every character in the Netherworld Scripture. Daoist Jixin was widely learned, his knowledge even richer than Qin Sang had imagined, and he was willing to teach patiently. Qin Sang was deeply grateful to him.

After returning to his quarters, Qin Sang first practiced Tiger Subduing Long Fist once to calm his restless heart.

Qin Sang had always followed Bai Jianglan's instructions, practicing Tiger Subduing Long Fist every morning and evening without fail. He could clearly feel his physical condition growing stronger, but he had not seen even the shadow of the legendary True Qi.

After finishing his fist technique and washing away the foul sweat covering him, Qin Sang returned to his room. He took a stack of yellow paper covered in writing from beneath his bed, then compared it to the book and, by moonlight, filled in the final sentence.

The entire Netherworld Scripture had finally been translated.

Holding the yellow-paper manuscript, Qin Sang's palms trembled slightly with excitement. He took a deep breath, calmed himself, and began reading from the beginning.

Again and again, without a single distracting thought, he immersed himself in the Netherworld Scripture. First he read his own translated version, then the original text, pondering it bit by bit before turning back to revise his translation.

Qin Sang did not dare cultivate rashly. Who knew whether one tiny mistake might cause him to go astray and suffer qi deviation?

From his current shallow understanding, the Netherworld Scripture was indeed a cultivation technique that guided people in training. Once the technique was mastered, a stream of qi would flow through the body along its meridians, and it also spoke of things such as heavenly cycles.

Fortunately, he had been studying medical scriptures under Daoist Jixin, so he had learned something about meridians and acupoints and could barely understand it.