Chapter 5

"Fist Manual, Flight Over Grass? What kind of Secret Manuals are these?" Bai Lang finally had some free time of his own. There were not actually that many fights to be had as a guard; the various factions had long since worked out their divisions. The main purpose of guards was to intimidate customers, and sometimes to go elsewhere to stand in formation and make up the numbers. This also showed that the higher-ups did not think much of these newly recruited gang members—only the first-place finisher from each location would be sent to the main headquarters for the Elders to choose from. The second-place finishers and everyone below them all received the same treatment.

Since Bai Lang had ranked near the top, the work assigned to him was relatively easy, leaving him with more time to train. Food and lodging here were free, but the monthly pay was indeed meager—just one tael of silver a month.

Holding the two so-called Secret Manuals, Bai Lang flipped through them with a rustle. The mnemonics inside were simple enough to understand, but the human figures were rather abstract. Fortunately, there were arrows and extensive annotations beside them, which at least gave Bai Lang some understanding of the paths through which qi circulated and how true qi combined with the body. Now I know why you need a master to teach you in person. How did those people who supposedly jumped off cliffs and found Secret Manuals manage to cultivate peerless divine arts? All he could say was that protagonists never died.

But Bai Lang did not think he looked much like a protagonist. There was one benefit to working at this brokerage: news from all corners of the land flowed through it. Bai Lang was still young, and he was immediately captivated by the stories told here. It turned out that martial arts were divided into various realms, though the people here knew only as far as Xiantian Masters. Beyond that, their accounts became vague; he had only heard of distinctions such as the Spirit Realm and Dharma Body. The Gang Leader of the Changle Gang was an expert who had stepped into Xiantian.

Looking at it that way, Bai Lang felt that he might not necessarily be able to enter Xiantian in this life. Could one reach Xiantian just by relying on this rudimentary qigong and things like Long Fist? Even if someone said so, Bai Lang would have to believe it. Still, Long Fist combined with the techniques in the Fist Manual covered an astonishingly wide range. From what Bai Lang remembered, it seemed that most of the so-called National Martial Arts styles from the world before he "transmigrated" were included within it. As for Flight Over Grass, this "lightness skill" was something those so-called National Martial Arts could never truly possess—because this world cultivated true qi and inner force.

Flight Over Grass circulated inner force through the meridians in the legs and lungs, granting the practitioner greater running speed. According to the manual, once one reached a certain level of mastery, one could gather qi and step upon the grass to glide, passing over it without pressing it down. Since he had cultivated a breath of true qi, Bai Lang accepted that this skill was real and began practicing it seriously—the main task being to circulate his inner force and open his meridians.

After coming to this world, Bai Lang had little interest in such lowly pleasures. He found the singing and dancing here rather dull, while lingering among flowers was impossible for him first because his body was not yet ready, and second because his purse was empty. With a monthly wage of one tael of patterned silver, it was already quite good if he could support himself. And he wanted to visit a brothel? Even the cheapest yellow fish would be beyond his reach more than a few times. The brokerage did have opportunities for extra income, but he had only just arrived, so the others were not ready to bring him along yet.

Fortunately, he slept warmly and ate his fill. On top of his monthly wages, the gang even issued a bottle of Clarified Butter every month. It could be applied to the body and massaged in using a specific method; it treated bruises and injuries, while also strengthening the tendons and bones and increasing one's strength. It's probably much better than something like Tiger Bone Paste. That was what Bai Lang thought after applying it for the first time and massaging himself, only to be scalded by it. The heat seeped directly into his muscles and reached his marrow, making him feel as though he were being tempered in a furnace.

Since he had no meaningless daily distractions, Bai Lang naturally had plenty of spare time, which he of course used to practice martial arts. What could be more interesting than martial arts in this world? And once martial cultivation reached a profound level, one could supposedly become like an Immortal on Land. It was even said that becoming a Buddha or an ancestor was not impossible. Martial arts and cultivating the Dao were not so different to begin with. With only these few martial arts in hand, he naturally practiced them over and over while trying to find a way to acquire others.

Winter passed and spring came, and three years slipped away. Though Bai Lang was not entirely sure of his true age, he now looked like a youth of seventeen or eighteen. Martial training and sufficient nourishment had made him taller and stronger than his actual age should have allowed, at least compared to his circumstances before transmigrating. He had fully mastered the Fist Manual and Long Fist. As his true qi circulated, he had also opened the Ren Meridian and three of the Twelve Primary Meridians, bringing Flight Over Grass to minor accomplishment.

Though he could throw out Fist Wind, it had no power from several feet away. A skill like the Void Splitting Palm was something Bai Lang had not even begun to develop. If his fist struck someone, however, he could make inner force seep into the opponent's body through the force of his punch and wreak destruction. At the very least, if he punched a stone, Bai Lang could now shatter it into small pieces. Of course, the stone was only about half a person's height.

That day, as was his habit of many years, Bai Lang rose in the morning to practice his fistwork and train. He was now a somewhat respected guard at the brokerage and earned three taels a month. The others had long since become slick and worldly; few still practiced martial arts in their daily lives. Unable to see any road ahead, their hearts had naturally died. Bai Lang alone trained diligently every day, rain or shine, and had now become the strongest martial artist in the brokerage. That day, he was sitting in the establishment according to the rules, guarding the place, when several underlings went out to collect debts and returned with a pile of junk.

The men cursed as they dragged in the man who could not pay his debts and gave him a sound beating. Bai Lang did not bother with them. He knew the man—a street thug who was addicted to gambling and regularly cheated, swindled, and deceived others. He truly did owe the brokerage some money, so he was often dragged in and beaten. But the junk brought in as payment caught Bai Lang's interest. Perhaps there might be some hidden Secret Manual among it? In any case, Bai Lang always rummaged through such things.

After searching through it all, he found nothing but junk. In the end, Bai Lang followed the crowd and picked out a small Jade Fish that looked like it might be worth something. This was an accepted perk for the brokerage's thugs; refusing to take anything would have been against the rules. The Jade Fish was only half a finger long, and the jade itself appeared rather poor. Bai Lang paid it no mind, merely rolling it back and forth between his fingers like a coin. Unexpectedly, he used a little too much force and snapped the Jade Fish into two pieces.

The shattered Jade Fish immediately cut Bai Lang's finger. A thread of blood seeped onto it, and suddenly the Jade Fish closed back together. It flicked its tail like a real fish, and Bai Lang instantly vanished from his room.