Life Book

005 Life Book

In the battle before, Ming Shu's past-life memories had been awakened. In one of his previous lives—perhaps even more than one—he had likely been assassinated, or else ambushed by bandits on the road and killed by them.

After these memories surfaced, Ming Shu tried flipping to a random page in the Life Book and jotting down fragments of those recollections.

Unexpectedly, this actually awakened the record on that page. He only wrote down a few fragments, and the remaining content was triggered and emerged on its own.

The specific time and place remained hidden, but the corresponding process, experience, and feelings were all written down.

It read like a final testament. Perhaps it was the last record left behind by a lingering soul after death, inscribed upon the Life Book.

In another life, he had been fleeing along a road, pursued by enemies deep into the mountains and forests, until all dozen or so members of his family were slaughtered there.

This further confirmed Ming Shu's earlier speculation: he had been carrying this miraculous Life Book through many cycles of reincarnation.

In his very first life, by some twist of fate, he had bound this Life Book.

Later, the Life Book's special power preserved the integrity of his soul, allowing him to be reborn again and again.

The targets of his rebirths were always young people—youths, children, or even infants.

There might be other unknown conditions, but for now, he had no way to verify them.

In this era, where immortals had long since departed from the world, there was no chance to obtain Immortal Qi. Without it, he could not activate the Life Book; he could only use it passively, seizing limited opportunities to record some information on its pages.

What else had been written? That was something he would have to explore slowly on his own.

After swallowing the discarded Immortal Pill and activating the Life Book, what new changes had it brought him? What new abilities had he gained? All of this, too, required gradual exploration.

For instance, information related to [Demon Spirit: Pillar of Heaven] had automatically appeared in the Life Book, offering a wealth of useful knowledge.

For now, he didn't know whether this was the Life Book's own ability or something recorded by one of his past lives.

And what method would he need to use to obtain the power of this kind of demon spirit? To make his own combat strength formidable?

In this world, were there many powers similar to this demon spirit?

Ming Shu tried again, writing the two characters for "demon spirit" on the page, but gained no new information.

He then thought of writing other things—Martial Artist, Scholar, Taoist, Demon—but each yielded only the barest scraps of information, essentially just literal definitions and simple explanations.

But what did this mean? It seemed like he had gained nothing at all.

Still, it wasn't entirely without gain. Since immortals existed, and demon spirits existed, then demons, ghosts, and gods—might they also exist?

Could he himself cultivate?

Martial arts like Old Zhao's could be taught; at least Little Zhao had learned them. Although Ming Shu didn't necessarily have to study Old Zhao's techniques, finding some other suitable cultivation method to practice should be possible, shouldn't it?

Ming Shu calmed down. Consulting the written records that had already appeared, he flipped to a random page and wrote down his recent experiences, especially organizing everything from the beginning—the memories of the past three-plus years, starting from the Cold Palace.

His maternal uncle's family was merely a merchant clan, possessing only basic cultivation techniques. In the last decade or so, they had scraped together enough capital to begin transitioning into the scholar-official class.

Because a few of the clan's concubine-born daughters had been sent into the palace as maidservants, one of them had the fortune to serve the late Emperor, bearing him Ming Shu, a concubine's son and prince.

After that, his uncle's family managed to enter the circle of the imperial merchants.

Somehow, they then wormed their way into the circle of a certain prince.

In the end, that led to the tragedy: a failed rebellion that dragged down the mother and son in the palace.

According to Old Zhao, the Imperial Race generally only intermarried with the three great families: [Han, Zhao, Wei].

These three families had fought alongside the Grand Ancestor since the founding of the dynasty, and they had jointly established an agreement back then: the three families would take turns providing the Empress.

Normally, the Imperial Palace only housed one Empress and two Imperial Noble Consorts. These three positions were basically monopolized by women from these three families, rotating among them.

Their internal struggles were confined to a very small scope. But when facing outsiders, the three families were relatively united.

To some extent, they could even check the emperor's power.

As for the princes who had a chance to contend for the throne, almost all of them were born to consorts from these three families. Other princes were considered concubine's sons and were generally sent far, far away.

This was also the Grand Ancestor's way of leaving a sliver of hope for his own descendants.

No matter what kind of strife erupted in the Royal Capital, as long as they didn't jump into it themselves and kept their distance, they still had some chance of surviving.

In this rebellion, Ming Shu had merely been stripped of his princely status by the Imperial Clan Court, reduced to a commoner, and exiled far away. From then on, another branch of the Grand Ancestor's descendants had been added—though they could not bear the surname Si.

The main lineage of the Great Jin Immortal Dynasty's imperial clan bore the surname Si. Originally, as the emperor's son, Ming Shu could also have been surnamed Si.

But because he was a concubine's son, his descendants could no longer bear the surname Si. The Imperial Clan Court had a complete set of rules for this.

For such concubine-born offspring, only one generation was allowed the surname Yuan; from then on, they had to take the surname Bai.

Si—Yuan—Bai: that was the rule.

As for those so-called Direct Descendant princes, under normal circumstances, their descendants could continue to bear the surname Si.

Until their father lost the throne, at which point, according to the Imperial Clan Court's latest arrangements, the newly born descendants would be given the surname Yuan. Further down the line, whether they ended up with Yuan or Bai depended entirely on the new emperor's whim.

Because of the remnants left by immortals and the existence of cultivation power, imperial clan members—especially the emperor who held real power—could, as long as their bodies weren't congenitally deficient, rely on a large number of life-extending Spiritual Items to remain on the throne and in power for at least a hundred years.

During that time, he could produce a vast number of offspring.

Thus, the Imperial Clan Court would do its best to send these concubine-born sons out to various regions.

The goal was to have them establish their own small families in those places, while also linking them to many different industries.

Nearly half the output from these industries had to be handed over to the Imperial Clan Court.

The more powerful local officials might receive half a percent as tax revenue, but most local officials couldn't benefit from it at all.

This turned the Imperial Clan Court into the emperor's personal treasury.

These resources became the emperor's private property.

The loopholes were countless. Oversight and management were basically nonexistent.

The Si, Yuan, and Bai—the Grand Ancestor Emperor was naturally of the Si bloodline, Yuan was his mother's surname, and as for the Bai surname, it was said to be the Grand Ancestor's Empress's surname. These stories from a thousand years ago had all been buried. People today could only listen to them as tales.

But this system had continued all the way to the present.

Along with the surnames Han, Zhao, and Wei—Ming Shu couldn't consider any of them either. Old Zhao might have some connection to the Zhao Clan from countless generations ago, but in that case, they wouldn't interfere.

The Zhao Clan, and even the other great clans, all had the power to manage their own branches across the entire realm.

If Ming Shu wanted to avoid drawing their attention, he definitely couldn't choose one of those major surnames.

Pick an ordinary surname, resettle himself, establish a family. Then blend into the mundane world. Stay far from the storm at the center of power.

That was the standard move for most imperial clan members exiled to the borderlands.

Could Donghai Prefecture count as borderlands? According to Old Zhao, pirate activity there had grown increasingly rampant over the past decade—worse than the borderlands, even.

And the territory the Imperial Clan Court had allocated to Ming Shu wasn't large—just a small town. The branch family of the Bai surname that had been there earlier had been slaughtered by pirates over a decade ago.

Later, the surviving members of that family had changed their names, sold off their assets, and disappeared somewhere.

After years of failing to submit revenue, the Imperial Clan Court would inevitably conduct an audit. Once reclaimed, the land had gone untended for ten years, lying desolate for a long time.

Besides, the Imperial Clan Court didn't have enough troops to send here to fend off pirates.

Ming Shu recorded all of this. Though he hadn't gained any new information from the Life Book, he had a new sense of his own position.

Moreover, he had learned a few useful terms from Old Zhao and Little Zhao—the first five realms of a Martial Artist:

First Tier: Body Strengthening Realm;

Second Tier: Bronze Skin Iron Bones Realm;

Third Tier: Meridian Circulation and Qi Condensation Realm;

Fourth Tier: Meridian Breaking and Origin Opening Realm;

Fifth Tier: Hua Jin Gui Yuan Realm.

After Ming Shu recorded this information in the Life Book, he automatically gained the relevant knowledge.

It seemed that one of his past lives had also cultivated the Martial Dao, and had been at least a Fifth Tier Martial Arts Master.

According to Old Zhao, a Martial Artist only barely surpassed ordinary mortals. Only upon reaching the Sixth Tier could one be said to have truly entered the Martial Dao—using martial arts to step onto the path.

Old Zhao was teaching Ming Shu with all his heart, pouring out everything he knew.

A day after they had left battle behind, the group welcomed two new companions.

One was a master from Qingtian Gate named Ren Yuan—the burly man who had transformed that night. Ming Shu recognized him at a glance.

The other was a young woman of eighteen or nineteen. By her own introduction, she was a castaway from the Sky-Toppling Observatory, named Chong Li, with strength at the Three-Arts Master Tier [Star Condensation Realm].