As Old Factory Street's top model student and the well-behaved kid all the neighbors talked about, Qin Shi had, for the first time, begun to suspect he might be illiterate.
The moment Old Liang opened the ancient booklet he'd brought out, Qin Shi saw all sorts of crooked, twisted, chaotic, bizarre symbols.
Their arrangement followed no discernible pattern. They resembled primitive yet complex pictographs, whose intricate and varied meanings made them difficult to understand.
"You don't read it with your eyes."
Old Liang finally looked pleased. Even a once-in-a-generation genius would be baffled the first time he faced this hurdle.
"You have to feel it from the heart."
So now we're doing the cryptic-mystery-man act, huh!
Qin Shi had figured it out. He'd shocked Old Liang one time after another.
The man's pride as a former genius had taken a beating, and now he wanted to get back at him.
"Each wave of the Yangtze pushes the one before it forward! Old Liang, today I'll show you what a prodigy of the new generation looks like!"
He smiled faintly. With his extraordinary powers of comprehension and unmatched mental fortitude, how could he fail to grasp the Spirit Cultivation Technique?
What a joke!
Forty minutes later.
"This is so hard!"
Qin Shi's head was spinning, his eyelids drooping as if they had lead weights hanging from them.
"I really, really can't understand a single character! It makes no sense. I always scored over a hundred in language class at New No. 1 Middle School!"
After all, mastering at least five widely used languages was a graduation requirement at every university in Eastern Xia.
From the Four Great National Universities and top institutions like Qiguang Hengda University and Jiakai Keda University, all the way down to the most ordinary technical colleges, every school offered compulsory language classes.
That was an explicit regulation from the Education Department.
It was also why Qin Shi had been so confident. He'd never once fallen short on his language exams.
Eastern Xia's five major autonomous regions—Tianzhu, Yingzhou, Yamo, Baruo, and Qindao—all had their own language systems.
Qin Shi could basically listen, speak, read, and write in all of them, and communicate without difficulty.
He'd assumed the strange symbols in the ancient booklet were no more than pictographs like oracle bone script or Sumerian.
Even if they were difficult to learn, he could figure out their general meaning by finding similarities between the characters.
"I can't understand it. I can't understand any of it! How are you supposed to feel the words with your heart? If I close my eyes, I won't be able to see anything..."
Qin Shi was deeply confused and discouraged.
Sitting opposite him, Old Liang sipped his cold tea and watched the show.
The Old Martial Arts world had always been rife with outdated customs and bad habits.
Things like "pass it down to men, not women; teach insiders, not outsiders," "once the apprentice learns the trade, the master starves," and "always hold something back."
With such bad habits prevailing, it was easy for a school to decline and its legacy to suddenly die out.
"People in the Old Martial Arts world place great importance on their techniques. They'd rather let them die out than allow them to fall into the hands of outsiders.
"This gave rise to a system of 'secret script.' It was modeled on the characters of ancient Buddhist and Daoist texts, pieced together from selections of Sanskrit and cloud seal script."
Old Liang thought to himself:
Without a master to show you the way in, even the most gifted genius can't understand it.
The proper method was for the master to teach the apprentice how to break down the secret script, then have him memorize it character by character.
Once he knew it by heart and understood it clearly, he'd be able to reproduce it exactly, even with his eyes closed.
Then he'd study it day and night, chewing over the text and refining its "essence."
"He Lanchán sat in the grandmaster's dojo for two whole days before he finally grasped it, and only after receiving some guidance.
"Shi is still too young, too hotheaded, too sure of his own talent."
Old Liang mused that he'd wait another ten minutes, then do as his own master had done: offer a few casual pointers and help Qin Shi see the light.
That would establish his authority as a master!
*Could I take a nap? Deep Sleep only restores my stamina bar. It can't increase my intelligence.
The brain isn't made of muscle, so Muscle Memory probably won't work either.
Qin Shi still refused to give up. He brought up the Monument Panel in his field of vision and considered how to solve the problem.
As he stared at the ancient booklet, whose legacy had been passed down for who knew how many years, a thought suddenly flashed through his mind:
[Food Category: Item] [Quality: Low] [Edible Parts: Pages One, Five, and Seven] [Consumption Effect: Improves reading comprehension, grants the temporary "Enlightenment" trait, and allows the user to grasp "Swift as the Wind"]
"This can be eaten too?"
Qin Shi froze. He thought the definition of "high-nutrient, high-energy substances" used by Overgrowth was far too broad.
In that case!
Sorry about this, Old Liang!
Monument, activate!
"Master Liang..."
Qin Shi hesitated over how to begin.
"What is it? Can't make sense of it? Having trouble figuring it out?"
Old Liang regretted not having a long beard. Then he could have stroked it like the grandmaster and played the wise elder.
"No worries, no worries. Let me give you a few pointers..."
Qin Shi shook his head, and the smile on Old Liang's lips froze once more.
Then the young apprentice asked cautiously:
"Master Liang, is this booklet very valuable?"
"I wouldn't call it valuable. The complete Hong Sheng legacy was turned over to the Martial Arts Association. If you have high enough clearance, you can spend the required points to read it. Spend a little more, and you can download a copy."
Old Liang smiled wryly.
"This one of mine doesn't even count as an original. It's a handwritten copy made by my master. Unfortunately, most of it was missing, so my teacher had to fill in the gaps."
No wonder only pages one, five, and seven were edible.
It seemed Old Liang's master was nowhere near as impressive as the grandmaster.
Qin Shi secretly breathed a sigh of relief, then asked:
"Master Liang, hypothetically speaking—just hypothetically—if this manuscript were gone, would you be heartbroken?"
What was this kid trying to do?
Old Liang frowned.
"'Heartbroken' is a bit much. Even if it got out, nobody could understand it without someone from the Hong Sheng school to explain it.
"As for the grandmaster's manuscript, I've got half a box of them. I keep them all for sentimental reasons."
Qin Shi felt slightly reassured and asked one last question:
"Master Liang, have you ever used this manuscript to wipe your hands or blow your nose?"
"What nonsense are you talking about? I treasure the grandmaster's manuscript. How could I use it for something like—hey, what are you doing!"
Old Liang looked bewildered. He had no idea what Qin Shi was up to.
Before he could finish speaking, he saw his young apprentice grab the ancient booklet and tear out several pages.
Then Qin Shi crumpled them into a ball and swallowed them!
"Oh, no!"
Old Liang wasn't angry. He was just stunned by how crazily Qin Shi was acting.
Has Shi failed to decipher the secret script and suffered a mental breakdown? Did the shock get to him?
He'd gone to the trouble of finding such a promising apprentice. He couldn't let anything happen to the boy!
Qin Shi didn't notice Old Liang's changing expression. He hurriedly said, "Sorry, Master Liang," then chewed and swallowed the pages.
[One high-quality meal consumed (1/20)]
Clear text swept across his field of vision.
"So it really does count."
Qin Shi's mouth twitched. Going by that logic, if he imitated Hannibal and dismembered Lin Yunqing, that bitch, carefully selected the parts, and cooked them to perfection—
Would that count as "eating" or "foraging"?
Could consider her as emergency rations. If I really can't rack up enough meals, I can use Teacher Lin to top up the count.
A joking thought crossed Qin Shi's mind.
If Lin Yunqing heard that idea, the romance she'd been fantasizing about—City Heiress Finds an Old Martial Arts Puppy Boy: Love Me Without Stopping—would have to become a suspenseful horror story: Tender, Tasty Teacher in a Torturous Romance with a Male High School Serial Killer: I Want You to Eat My Pancreas.
Silence settled over the single dorm room for several minutes. Old Liang asked, full of concern:
"Shi, are you all right?"
"Master Liang!"
Qin Shi opened his eyes, which he'd just closed, and looked solemn.
"What is it? If you can't learn it, we can take it slow. Don't get so worked up or go to extremes. It's just the grandmaster's manuscript. You can tear it up if you want. Your master won't blame you."
Old Liang coaxed him like a child, afraid his apprentice might have another episode.
"Master Liang!"
Qin Shi spread his arms. He seemed to hear all sorts of wind rushing past his ears, roaring fiercely and changing in countless ways.
As the sensation of energy within him circulated several times, wisps and strands of "wind" were drawn toward him, swirling around the surface of his body.
At last, they gathered at the tips of his feet, forming an extremely faint lifting force.
"I've got it!"
As Qin Shi felt one of the hundred aspects—the "Swift as the Wind" movement—his mortal body seemed to cast off the heavy burden of its shackles, growing suddenly much lighter.
It was as if, with a mere flicker of thought, he could merge with the ever-changing currents of air—like a drop of water falling into the ocean, stirring not the slightest ripple.
I am the god of the wind!
A powerful emotion took hold of Qin Shi, filling him with this sort of wild arrogance.
The Metropolitan Area's night sky was dazzling, with a tapestry of bright lights woven together like an ocean.
At the Black Flame Grand Hotel, on the thirtieth floor, Qin Lihao stood with his hands in his pockets, dressed in a white suit. He looked coldly down at Wang Long, whom he'd just hauled up there.
"Brother Hao, I really didn't know that female teacher was Lin Xiaohan's sister. Why would a young lady from the Lin Family go to the Youth Palace..."
Qin Lihao kicked out with his right leg, the toe of his gleaming leather shoe striking Wang Long under the chin.
There was a sharp crack. Bone shattered, and blood spattered!
The swaggering young man who'd been wearing sunglasses and designer clothes and driving a convertible that afternoon rolled over like a dead dog. He smashed into the railing behind him, making it clang.
"You're a complete idiot. What can you do besides having a dick and sleeping with women?"
Qin Lihao was furious, the veins twitching at his temples.
"You don't even know that madwoman Lin Yunqing! She nearly broke Ajie's leg, and you still went out of your way to mess with her? I put you in charge of the Righteous Fist Society alongside Abiao, who works for Cheng Ze, and you took a bunch of punks to the Youth Palace to pick up girls?"
He strode over and stomped down, his heavy leather shoe coming down on Wang Long's head again and again.
After a while, the cries of agony grew faint, then stopped. The twitching body fell still.
"Damn it, even I know the rule of the Metropolitan Area: 'Don't mess with Chen; don't fight the Lin Family!' You're just a mangy stray dog with a dick, and you dare hit on a young lady from the Lin Family? You've got more guts than I do!"
Qin Lihao swore as the wind on the rooftop blew open his suit jacket, its button torn off, revealing a large, vicious tattoo.
It was a vicious eagle with its wings spread, swooping down to bite!
"Brother Hao."
One of his underlings crouched beside him, letting Qin Lihao rest his foot on his back. Another wiped the spots of blood from his shoe with his sleeve.
"From now on, if I see another stray dog causing trouble, I'll kick it!"
Qin Lihao let out a breath, his tall frame like a heavy mountain pressing down on everyone's hearts and leaving them too afraid to speak.
"A'si, pick out a substantial gift and take it to Lin Yunqing tomorrow. As for that Smiling Tiger, Lin Xiaohan, I'll go to his place and apologize in person!
"By the way, I heard Wang Long took a bunch of guys over there, and they all got knocked down? And the other guy was a student?"
The underling who'd wiped Qin Lihao's shoe answered:
"That's right. A student who worked at the Youth Palace."
Qin Lihao frowned.
"A student that tough? What's his name?"
The underling lowered his head.
"We haven't found out. We only know his surname is Qin..."
Qin Lihao raised his foot and kicked again.
"You useless piece of trash! What do I keep you around for? Qin? There are plenty of people surnamed Qin in Hengzhou. I'm a Qin too!"
After he'd vented his anger, he pulled out a handkerchief, wiped his face, and let it go, leaving the wind to carry it away.
A student?
If the kid was just a small fry, there was no point worrying about him.
He wasn't even worth a bite; he'd only get stuck between his teeth.
"Call that stray dog Aze and hurry him up. Tell him to buy more land, fast. Approval for the Old Factory Street redevelopment is coming through. Don't let him get in the way of me making a fortune."
Qin Lihao held a Nine Heavens Tower cigarette worth a thousand yuan between his lips. In the dense night, its ember flickered, then he exhaled a cloud of blue smoke.
"The Yancheng Qin Family has been building up its power for years. Truth be told, if we really had to fight the Lin Family, we'd do just fine."
He grinned and looked toward Old Factory Street, like a starving beast waiting for its meal.
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