The latter half of the night passed, with the moon hidden and the stars sinking.
Zhang Yu continued sitting in meditation with his eyes closed, circulating his energy through the heavenly cycle and consolidating the hard-won realm he had attained.
Opening his Dantian and generating Internal Energy was only the first step.
Among martial artists, there were many factors that determined their strength. It did not all depend on the depth of their Internal Energy; otherwise, the Mount Hua Sect would never have suffered the Qi Sword Dispute back then.
There had once been a martial elder in Xiang who devoted himself entirely to breathing exercises. His Internal Energy was profound, but he had no combat experience whatsoever. He was defeated by a newly emerged junior using exquisite sword techniques. Feeling too ashamed to face his fellow martial artists, he threw himself into the river and died, becoming the subject of ridicule for many years.
But that was ultimately an isolated case. All things considered, the realm of Internal Energy remained the clearest standard for distinguishing martial cultivation.
Sixty years ago, Shaolin monk Kongwu and Daoist Qingming, the newly appointed head of Wudang, had discussed the Dao on the Kunlun Mountains. They classified the realms of Internal Energy into six levels, and martial artists throughout the world had mostly followed their system ever since.
Dan Energy, Armor-Breaking, Qi Sea, Houtian, Xiantian, and Grandmaster.
It was like climbing a sheer cliff. The overwhelming majority remained trapped at the foot of the mountain for their entire lives. Only a handful could climb to the mountainside, and those who could go higher were rarer than phoenix feathers and qilin horns.
The Grandmaster realm above Xiantian symbolized the rise and fall of every generation of the martial world.
Those who had left the Central Plains or secluded themselves from the world were excluded.
There were only two and a half universally acknowledged Grandmasters in the present age.
The Demonic Cult Leader, Dongfang Bubai.
Master Fangzheng of Shaolin Temple.
Chongxu was merely at perfected Xiantian, but his Taiji Swordsmanship was immensely powerful, so he could barely be considered half a step into the Grandmaster realm.
The bonfire gradually dwindled, and moonlight filtered through the branches onto the forest floor.
"Bzzz, bzzz~"
The army of mosquitoes lying in ambush all around them seemed to have received a signal and launched an all-out assault.
"You're certainly diligent!"
Yue Lingshan tossed and turned, still unable to sleep. There were simply too many mosquitoes in the forest, and with her hands tied, she could not swat them away fast enough.
She looked toward Zhang Yu, only to find that he was completely unaffected. He could even guide his breath in and out.
"Could it be that mosquitoes only bite me?"
Yue Lingshan edged closer. Sure enough, there were no mosquitoes within a foot of Zhang Yu. She sniffed him, but there was no mugwort smoke on his clothes. Could those damned buzzing pests bully only the weak?
"I've only heard that someone at perfected Houtian can keep mosquitoes from landing on him and remain untouched by dust. How can he do it too?"
With the mosquitoes no longer harassing her, sleepiness washed over her. Yue Lingshan leaned against Zhang Yu and fell asleep.
The night split open, and the morning sun rose.
Zhang Yu exhaled the stale air and immediately removed the Green Jade Thumb Ring from his left thumb.
After putting on the ring, the speed at which he circulated his energy tripled. In other words, his Internal Energy cultivation progressed three times faster.
The longer he wore it each time, the tighter it became when he removed it. This time, it had almost fused with his flesh.
"Is this the price?" He put away the Green Jade Thumb Ring, a faint unease stirring in his heart.
Yue Lingshan opened her beautiful eyes and felt refreshed. It had been a long time since she had slept so peacefully. A moment later, she realized that her head was resting between Zhang Yu's legs, in an intimate and bizarre position. She quickly sat up and moved aside, pretending to arrange her hair.
"Fortunately, no one saw."
Zhang Yu looked at the glistening patch on his trouser leg and sighed faintly. "Otherwise, people might think I wet the bed. If word got out, how would I continue traveling the martial world? Heroine Yue, don't you agree?"
Yue Lingshan wiped the saliva from the corner of her mouth and said, her face flushed, "Stop talking nonsense! That was dew."
Zhang Yu extended his left hand and asked, "Be honest. Did you dream about chicken legs? How many did you eat?"
Yue Lingshan looked at the mangled flesh of his left thumb in disbelief. "This... I bit this?"
Zhang Yu looked around the woods. "Is there a third person here?"
"That's impossible. I've never ground my teeth in my sleep."
Yue Lingshan stared blankly ahead, questioning everything she knew about life.
Pingyang was a city at the easternmost edge of the Three Jin region.
The official road was filled with the noise of carts and horses.
Besides the martial heroes carrying sabers and swords, soldiers in fiery-red battle robes occasionally passed by.
This city lay at the intersection of the authorities and the martial factions.
"Open your mouth."
Zhang Yu pinched her chin.
Yue Lingshan smacked her lips and savored the taste. "What did you feed me? It's sour."
Zhang Yu said flatly, "The Three Corpses Brain God Pill. Never heard of it?"
He flicked his sword and severed the ox-tendon rope, casually spinning a tale. "This pill contains three corpse worms. They normally remain dormant, but on the seventh, seventeenth, and twenty-seventh of every month, if there's no antidote, the worms emerge from hiding, burrow tunnels and build nests inside your body, and devour your flesh. The pain is unbearable."
"Once we enter Pingyang City, you'll do everything I say. Otherwise, don't even think about getting the antidote."
Yue Lingshan rubbed her jade-like wrists, which were marked red from the bindings, and muttered, "You little Demonic Cult scoundrel. I knew you were no good."
The two were just about to enter the city.
Fifty or sixty swift horses came roaring down the official road.
Their hooves struck like drumbeats, growing faster and faster.
"Jing jing!"
"Jing jing jing!"
The men wore black gauze hats and Flying Fish Robes, with standard-issue sabers at their waists and powerful crossbows strapped to their backs. Every one of them radiated the fierce aura of an elite forged in blood and iron.
The rider in the middle carried a banner bearing the words: "Pingyang City Imperial Guard Battalion of the Great Ming."
"Flying Fish Robes and Spring Embroidered Sabers?"
This was Zhang Yu's first time seeing the Imperial Guards. As far as he knew, although this world resembled the Ming Dynasty of his previous life by seventy or eighty percent, it was not entirely the same.
For instance, the dynasty was called Ming, but the emperor's surname was not Zhu. It was Han.
"They have Imperial Guards here too?"
The two hurriedly moved aside.
The Imperial Guards surged into the city without any intention of slowing down, throwing the city gate into chaos. The old soldiers guarding the gate did not even dare look at these fiends and kept far away. Only after they had passed did the guards come over to restore order.
"Such a sin!" An old woman knelt on the ground, trembling as she gathered the white flour and put it back into her empty, deflated cloth sack.
Exchanging this sack of white flour for the lowest-grade aged coarse grain might allow her to eat for two months.
No one cared what a poor old woman was thinking.
The hooves of all kinds of livestock trampled across the flour, leaving their marks behind.
"Old woman, get out of the way. Don't block the city gate."
The guards drove her away, and the horses trampled the flour. In the end, she managed to gather only half a sack, mixed with dust and mud. She feared it would not fetch much of a price.
The old woman turned away dejectedly.
Zhang Yu stepped forward and asked with a smile, "Granny, are you selling that sack of flour?"
"I am... It spilled onto the ground and got covered in dust. It isn't clean, Young Master, you..."
The old woman looked at Zhang Yu. He wore ordinary cloth clothes, but he was handsome, with a long sword at his waist and a graceful maidservant following behind him. He was clearly no ordinary person, and she feared he had come merely to make sport of her.
Zhang Yu smiled. "If it isn't dry, it isn't clean. Eat it and you won't get sick."
"Then, Young Master... would fifty coins do?"
Zhang Yu searched through his money pouch and found only thirty-nine coins. The Mount Song Sect disciples really were poor. Between the two of them, they had scraped together only seven or eight taels of loose silver.
"These will do too."
The old woman hurriedly agreed. Exchanging these copper coins for some chaff would at least let her and her grandson survive a little longer.
As the two passed each other, a silver ingot slipped into the cloth sack.
Yue Lingshan noticed it and smiled. "I didn't expect you to have a bit of kindness in you."
Zhang Yu asked, "How much silver does the Mount Hua Sect give its disciples each month?"
Yue Lingshan asked in confusion, "Why would they give us money? We're all one family. Wouldn't giving out money make us strangers?"
Zhang Yu thought to himself, The Mount Hua Sect is even more ruthless than the Mount Song Sect. No wonder it was able to have the last laugh in the internal struggle among the Five Great Sword Sects.
Talking as they went, the two passed through the city gate passage.
The main street was bustling with traffic, with brothels and taverns standing in rows.
Pingyang lay on the border between two provinces. Merchant caravans came and went without end, and the steady flow of silver supported a prosperity that made the city an entirely different world from the land beyond its walls.
Zhang Yu noticed that there were many martial artists carrying weapons in the city, including no shortage of long spears and iron bows explicitly prohibited by the Taizu's Martial Arts Ban. As long as they did not cause trouble, the patrolling soldiers turned a blind eye.
As the dynasty entered its middle and late periods, it was advancing irresistibly toward decline.
Military preparedness had fallen into disrepair, border troubles continued without end, and the court was powerless to control matters within its borders.
Otherwise, it would never have stood by while a martial force like the Sun Moon Divine Cult gathered thirty thousand followers and occupied strategic passes. Even if it was not rebellion, it was rebellion in all but name.
During the reigns of the Taizu and Taizong emperors, which sect would have dared to defy the authorities?
And dared to shout, "Virtuous and Martial, may they endure for ten thousand generations"?
The imperial army would have trampled their sect gates and sent their heads throughout the martial world long ago.
Unfortunately, that had been a century ago. Now, with Emperor Yousheng on the throne, the court could no longer spare the strength to trample the martial world. It could only hope that the martial factions would fight each other to mutual destruction within the bounds of their own rules.
Suddenly, a wave of people surged through the street. Two young servants in blue robes beat gongs and drums while shouting loudly.
"Quick, go south of the city! It's starting!"
"Let's go together! Come see the number-one beauty of Pingyang City!"
"Brother, what's happening?"
"The Lin Family's martial tournament to choose a husband has begun again."
"Which Lin Family?"
"In Pingyang City, besides Lin Kun of the Dragon Scale Association, which other Lin Family is there?"
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