The Wordless Heavenly Book

In a back alley in Chama City where troublemakers gathered, an old man in his eighties sat cross-legged on a stone slab. His gray-white beard reached down to his belly. He held two metal balls in his left hand, and a cane made from an old tree root rested against the wall at his right.

Yimo walked into the alley alone. At a glance, he spotted the old man, and his eyes lit up. He quickened his pace and walked toward him.

During this stretch of free time, Yimo had asked around through Huang Mao and other channels about the true masters of the Martial Forest living in seclusion in Chama City. He had visited them one by one, hoping to learn some kung fu.

That was right. Yimo had never given up on learning martial arts.

To someday be able to rely on strength and break through all techniques without relying on his brain—that was Yimo's dream!

If he could charge straight in and go on a rampage, who would want to stay in the back row and draw aggro?

Unfortunately, over the past few days, Yimo had visited more than ten masters. After seeing him, every one of them gave roughly the same response.

Reclusive master: "Young man, I can see that you have extraordinary bones."

Yimo: "Oh? So does that mean I can learn your profound martial art?"

The reclusive master looked at Yimo's burning gaze and couldn't help turning his head away. "These days, the truly capable people all pursue civil service and become officials. Not only can they command martial artists, they can also make life difficult for military officers in front of the king!"

"Hey, that sounds amazing!"

"I can tell you have a real talent for that. Why learn martial arts?"

"As it