Half a Year

Daoist Master Jixin's words made Qin Sang realize that Old Wu was less than forty years old.

Old Wu was from Jiaoming County in the Northern Territory. He originally had two sons and one daughter, and made a living by farming. Although they were poor, they could get by.

Last year, a series of major disasters struck. The northern counties erupted in conflict, with rebel armies acting like bandits and slaughtering innocent people.

Old Wu's village was looted by the rebel soldiers, and his wife and children were tragically killed. He managed to escape with only his youngest daughter, but shortly after, his daughter fell gravely ill. With no money for treatment, she died on the road.

A happy family of five was reduced to just Old Wu. He wandered aimlessly, following his fellow villagers to Three Witches City, where he worked as a boat tracker at the first ferry crossing to make ends meet, sleeping under the eaves or in doorways at night.

The old Daoist, seeing his plight, took him in to live on the mountain.

Who could have imagined that the situation in the Northern Territory had deteriorated to such an extent? It was unknown when this vast kingdom would ever find peace again.

Spring turned to autumn.

Waking up in the morning, he could see fallen leaves scattered all over the courtyard by the mountain wind. Without realizing it, he had been in this world for a full year. Qin Sang tightened his clothes and walked towards Green Goat Hall to start the fire and prepare medicine.

After starting the fire, while practicing his punches in the courtyard, he ran into Old Wu.

They nodded to each other. Old Wu, with his back hunched, walked away silently.

Watching Old Wu's stooped figure disappear outside the Daoist temple, Qin Sang shook his head.

He truly hadn't expected that Old Wu's seemingly frail body possessed so much strength. He had been working as a boat tracker for over half a year and hadn't even mentioned returning to his hometown.

For the past six months, Old Wu had been leaving early and returning late, working as a boat tracker every day without a single day off. Sometimes, when Qin Sang woke up late, he wouldn't see him at all throughout the day.

Seeing Old Wu's appearance, Qin Sang felt ashamed and redoubled his efforts, rarely slacking off.

Qin Sang had never seen Old Wu smile, and since he was mute, when they met, Old Wu would only raise his hand in response, his face devoid of any expression.

Qin Sang wondered if Old Wu hadn't recovered from the immense changes, if his heart had already died, and he was uninterested in anything. To Qin Sang, he seemed like a walking corpse.

Although they shared the same living space, Qin Sang didn't find it particularly inconvenient and gradually got used to it.

For the past six months, his boxing, cultivation, and medicinal baths had been continuous. Knowing the effects of the medicinal baths, Qin Sang was extremely diligent, accompanying the old Daoist up the mountain to gather herbs every time. He had traversed dozens of peaks in Huanghuang Mountain.

The mountains on both sides of the Wuling River were steep, and wild beasts roamed in packs. It was inevitable that they would encounter danger when venturing deep into the mountains to gather herbs.

The most dangerous encounter was with a pack of wolves.

It was nighttime. Qin Sang and the old Daoist were making food in a cave when a pack of over a dozen wolves was attracted by the firelight. By the time Qin Sang heard the wolves' howls and tried to extinguish the campfire, it was too late. He only had an iron rod he had acquired from a stonemason.

The wolves surrounded the cave entrance. The old Daoist's beast-repelling powder, made from the dung of fierce beasts, was completely ineffective in driving them away. Their only hope of survival was to fight.

Qin Sang, holding the iron rod, stood alone at the cave entrance, blocking the way. He used the rod in place of his fists, employing the Tiger Subduing Long Fist.

He had expected a tough battle, but to his surprise, Qin Sang found it surprisingly easy. Since the cave entrance was narrow, only three wolves could squeeze in at a time, and Qin Sang could handle three fierce wolves with ease.

With the iron rod, Qin Sang smashed the head wolf's skull, killing it instantly. Then, with lightning-fast movements, he killed several more. The other wolves turned tail and fled.

After that, without Qin Sang having to ask, the old Daoist made sure to bring him along whenever they went to gather herbs.

After this real combat experience, Qin Sang finally realized that his strength was indeed not weak.

Later, to confirm his feelings, he sparred with disciples of Yang Zhen at the Wuwei Escort Agency's mountain villa. Although he always feigned defeat, Qin Sang knew that he was only using five-tenths of his strength.

Their boxing techniques were far superior to the Tiger Subduing Long Fist. Their moves appeared powerful, but to Qin Sang, they seemed very slow. If he wished, he could easily find their flaws and counter them.

With this martial skill, Qin Sang's thoughts inevitably became more active.

The rebellion in the Northern Territory had not subsided for a long time. Various counties had raised banners of rebellion, one after another. However, the regional kings were passively resisting, leaving the imperial army exhausted and overwhelmed.

In the middle of the year, the Holy Emperor issued a decree, calling upon all virtuous and upright individuals to go to the Northern Territory and join the army to quell the rebellion. It was said that if they achieved unparalleled merit, they could be enfeoffed as kings or marquises.

When the imperial decree arrived, Three Witches City buzzed with excitement. Many ambitious individuals headed north to defend the emperor. Three of Yang Zhen's disciples set off together, seeking to establish their achievements.

Qin Sang was also tempted, but he wasn't motivated by wealth or status.

Qin Sang kept Daoist Master Jixin's words in his heart. Even immortal masters couldn't cast aside their emotions and desires; they also enjoyed worldly pleasures. By getting close to royalty and nobles, he might be able to encounter immortal masters.

However, Qin Sang had not experienced war before, and he felt a little apprehensive. The battlefield was merciless. If he were to be accidentally killed by a stray arrow, wouldn't that be a great loss?

Moreover, there were many talented individuals in the world. How strong was his martial arts truly? How did it compare to martial arts masters who possessed Inner Force? Could he truly stand out?

It was precisely because of these doubts that Qin Sang found it difficult to make a decision. In the end, he decided to stay in the Daoist temple and patiently cultivate the Netherworld Scripture. After breaking through the first level, he would make further plans.

Qin Sang cultivated day after day. The wisp of qi within his body grew from the size of a hair strand to a small stream, flowing through his meridians, and was finally on the verge of breaking through.

The medicinal bath today was a new batch. As Qin Sang neared a breakthrough, his need for medicinal potency increased. The previous batch had only lasted five days.

In the evening, Qin Sang patiently completed his evening prayers. When the night was deep and quiet, he closed the doors and windows securely, sat cross-legged on his bed, and recited the Pure Serenity Scripture more than ten times before calming his mind. He entered a state of deep concentration and activated his cultivation technique.

In the blink of an eye, five cycles passed. The qi flowed through his meridians. Qin Sang had a vague premonition that after the next cycle, he would break through!

The Netherworld Scripture did not mention whether there were any other bottlenecks between the two levels. Qin Sang nervously activated his cultivation technique. After one cycle, the qi returned to his dantian.

Qin Sang suddenly let out a muffled groan. The qi in his dantian churned. Intense, swollen pain began in his dantian and quickly spread to all the meridians in his body, followed by a tearing agony.

Fortunately, the pain was fierce but fleeting. After the intense pain, it was replaced by a feeling of immense relief!

A look of great joy appeared on Qin Sang's face. He suddenly remembered the internal visualization mentioned in the Netherworld Scripture and subconsciously 'looked' towards his dantian. With a 'boom', his mind cleared, and he could finally genuinely 'see' the qi.

The blue airflow coiled within his dantian, beautiful and intoxicating.

With a thought from Qin Sang, the qi moved according to his will, entering his meridians like a rushing river, circulating within them at several times the previous speed. He completed a cycle very quickly, and the improvement was even more significant than during the first level.

He continued to cultivate without stopping. By the tenth cycle, the painful memories did not reappear, and Qin Sang was greatly surprised. He decided to pause for the time being.