Myriad Scrolls Pavilion

In the small courtyard, deathly silence reigned.

Qin Jue sat cross-legged on the bed, his chest rising and falling slightly. With each breath, the surrounding air seemed to form a tiny vortex. After a long while, he slowly opened his eyes and exhaled a mouthful of turbid qi.

"Hundred Refinements Third Layer—still far too weak."

Qin Jue looked down at his own hands, his brows furrowing slightly.

That battle yesterday, though it appeared to be an easy victory, had been fraught with peril. Ning Zhiyuan, for all his arrogance, possessed genuine Hundred Refinements Fourth Layer cultivation. His final Rippling Waves Third Strike had carried a terrifying force of two thousand jin!

If not for his own [Void Clarity Sword Heart], which allowed him to perceive that momentary pause in his opponent's technique, and had he met force with force, he would likely be the one lying on the ground right now.

Recalling the shattered iron sword on the Martial Arena, Qin Jue couldn't help but shake his head.

That sword was forged from ordinary iron—a common street commodity that could be bought for ten gold coins. When he executed [Tide Surging Stance], the explosive force unleashed in an instant was terrifying. Such mundane iron simply couldn't withstand the dual infusion of blood qi and power. It was already the limit that it held out until the battle ended before shattering.

"An ordinary Mundane Iron Sword has extremely low efficiency in channeling blood qi and power. Pour in ten parts of force, and at most only seven parts are brought to bear. The remaining three parts are lost during transmission, even backlashing against the sword itself."

"If I had a 'Hundred-Refined Steel Sword' in hand, even if it were only a mid-grade Mundane Artifact, breaking Ning Zhiyuan's blade stance wouldn't have required so much effort."

To do a good job, one must first sharpen one's tools.

For a martial artist, a weapon is a second life.

Qin Jue reached into his bosom and pulled out the cyan identity jade token. As a wisp of blood qi infused it, a faint fluorescence rippled across the token's surface, and a line of numbers clearly emerged:

[Battle Merit: One hundred and eighty-six]

Of these one hundred and eighty-six Battle Merits, one hundred and sixty had been carved from Ning Zhiyuan's hide.

"One hundred and eighty-six..."

Qin Jue's fingers gently rubbed the jade token as he quickly calculated in his mind.

At Qingcang Academy, Battle Merits were a symbol of a disciple's status and authority. The higher one's Battle Merits, the better the treatment one enjoyed within the academy, and the more advanced the resources one could access.

"According to academy rules, once accumulated Battle Merits exceed one hundred points, one may enter the first floor of the Myriad Scrolls Pavilion to borrow cultivation techniques."

"And exceeding one hundred and sixty points marks a watershed."

Qin Jue recalled the records in the Outer Court Disciple Codex: "Any disciple whose Battle Merits reach one hundred and sixty points may borrow two martial skills or cultivation techniques from the first floor of the Myriad Scrolls Pavilion each month. Moreover, upon reaching this threshold for the first time, one may claim one mid-grade Mundane Artifact weapon free of charge from the Hundred Refinements Workshop."

"One hundred and eighty-six—enough."

This meant he could not only obtain a suitable weapon for free but also select two desired techniques from the Myriad Scrolls Pavilion.

"First the Myriad Scrolls Pavilion, then the Hundred Refinements Workshop to claim the sword."

Qin Jue stood up and straightened his robes simply.

Since he had Battle Merits, he naturally had to convert them into strength as quickly as possible.

Stepping out of the small courtyard, the sunlight was somewhat blinding.

Qin Jue walked along the bluestone path deeper into the academy.

Passing through several halls, the terrain gradually rose. As Qin Jue reached a corner of a long corridor, his steps suddenly halted.

This was a high point of the Outer Court, known as the Star Gazing Platform.

Standing here, one could overlook the entire Qingcang Academy, even taking in the entirety of Skywind Martial City at the foot of the mountain.

Qin Jue walked to the railing and gazed into the distance.

The Qingcang Academy was built against the mountain, its layout grand and imposing, with countless cyan halls arranged in orderly splendor. Beyond the academy, Skywind Martial City sprawled across the land like a colossal beast. Within the city, bustling prosperity reigned; the hundred-zhang-tall "Four Seas Pavilion" gleamed with gold and splendor, a gathering place for merchants. To the west of the city, the "Hundred Battles Martial Training Ground" exuded a fierce Sha Qi, a place where martial artists fought for their lives.

Looking further into the distance, at the edge of sight, lay an endless black mountain range—the Dragon Severing Mountain Range.

Even from thousands of li away, Qin Jue could still sense the terrifying aura emanating from that mountain range. Thick dark clouds perpetually pressed down upon its peaks, with faint flashes of lightning visible. It was a forbidden zone for humans and a paradise for Fierce Beasts.

It was said that deep within the Dragon Severing Mountain Range lurked calamity beasts equivalent to the human Divine Palace Realm, capable of destroying an entire city with a single breath.

"Huangwu Divine Dynasty... Xuanhuang Domain..."

Qin Jue mused inwardly as fragments of his original body's memories surged up.

Though Skywind Martial City was prosperous, within the entire territory of the Huangwu Divine Dynasty, it was merely a grain of sand on the southeastern border. And the Huangwu Divine Dynasty, within the vast and boundless Xuanhuang Domain, was nothing but a drop in the ocean.

"In my past life on Blue Star, bound by the laws of heaven and earth, even cultivating a mortal body to its limit, I was only a match for a hundred men. But in this world, there are infinite possibilities."

In this heaven and earth, the martial path could reach the divine.

Stepping into the Nascent Core Realm, one's dantian transformed into a sea, Yuanli condensed into a core, and one's lifespan could reach two hundred years.

As for mighty experts of the Divine Palace Realm, their divine thoughts could leave their bodies, manipulate objects from afar, control flying swords, and unleash divine might. At the mere release of their pressure, the weak would feel their knees go weak, while even the strong would find themselves constrained, as if struggling against the very momentum of heaven and earth.

"Below Nascent Core, all are ants; beyond Divine Palace, the sky is unseen."

Qin Jue murmured softly.

What was there to be proud of in defeating a Ning Zhiyuan?

In the eyes of these frogs at the bottom of a well in the Outer Court, yesterday's battle might have been earth-shattering. But placed before true experts, it was nothing more than two children rolling in the mud—not even worthy of being idle chatter over tea.

"The road is still long."

The Myriad Scrolls Pavilion stood at the center of the academy, a seven-story tower rising majestically with soaring eaves and interlocking brackets, its presence imposing.

Just as Qin Jue stepped onto the bluestone square before the pavilion, a somewhat oily voice came from an angle.

"Isn't this Qin Jue, Brother Qin, the one who shattered a thousand waves with a single sword and now shakes the Outer Court? What a pleasure! I've heard so much!"

Before the words had even faded, the man was already right in front of him.

A youth in a drab gray robe, a chipped gourd of wine swinging at his waist, stood grinning as he blocked Qin Jue's path.

Qin Jue's brow furrowed slightly, his steps halting abruptly. His right hand had already drifted to his empty waist—though his sword was shattered, the vigilance honed over sixty years was etched into his very bones.

"Hey, hey, hey! Brother Qin, go easy! We're on the same side!"

The youth flinched like a cat whose tail had been stepped on, shrinking his neck and waving both hands frantically, his face plastered with a fawning smile. "This humble one is Mo Xingkong, just an Outer Court Disciple. I've long admired Brother Qin's reputation and came specially today to pay my respects. No ill intent whatsoever!"

Hearing this, Qin Jue finally gave the newcomer a thorough once-over.

The visitor looked about eighteen or nineteen, with utterly unremarkable features that would blend into any crowd. His attire was equally plain, giving off an air of idle incompetence.

Yet, with just a glance, Qin Jue spotted the truth. The man's stance seemed casual, but his feet were subtly aligned with the Eight Trigrams, his lower body planted as solid as a boulder—clearly trained in some exceedingly refined movement technique.

"Interesting."

Qin Jue withdrew his hand from his waist, his expression unchanged. "What business?"

Mo Xingkong sidled up with the ease of an old friend, lowering his voice. "Brother Qin, that fight of yours at the Martial Arena yesterday really did us proud! That sword surge—tsk, tsk—absolutely divine! Half the Outer Court's buzzing, saying you're a hidden monster, and even that snooty Ning Zhiyuan got beaten into a dead dog!"

At the words "dead dog," a glint of schadenfreude flickered across Mo Xingkong's face.

Qin Jue remained unmoved by the flattery, replying flatly, "Just luck."

"Luck? Brother Qin, you're being modest."

Mo Xingkong pursed his lips, wearing an expression that screamed "don't try to fool me." "Luck doesn't send a Hundred Refinements Fourth Layer Jade Bone Realm cultivator coughing up blood and passing out. That Ning Zhiyuan might have lousy character, but his Hundred Bones Thunderous Sound Art isn't made of paper. If breaking through his defense was luck, I'd like to try my hand at it too."

Seeing Qin Jue stay silent, Mo Xingkong's eyes darted around. He suddenly dropped his playful grin and leaned in with a mysterious air.

"But Brother Qin, as a brother, I've got to warn you."

Mo Xingkong's voice dropped to a whisper only the two of them could hear. "You won this time, but you've also stirred up a hornet's nest. That Ning Zhiyuan is narrow-minded and vengeful. Losing face like this, he won't let it go. And what's more..."

He pointed toward the Inner Court, his tone loaded with implication. "The reason Ning Zhiyuan dares to throw his weight around the Outer Court isn't just the Ning Family—it's also Senior Brother Li Changfeng from the Inner Court. By slapping Ning Zhiyuan's face, you've essentially offended Li Changfeng."

At this, Qin Jue's eyes sharpened.

Li Changfeng.

That name was naturally present in the original body's memories. A genius in the Inner Court's top ten, said to have already reached the Hundred Refinements Ninth Layer—a true figure of renown.

"Thanks for the warning."

Qin Jue glanced at Mo Xingkong, his tone softening slightly.

Though he didn't know why Mo Xingkong had gone out of his way to tell him this, the reminder held some value.

"Hey, no need to be polite!"

Seeing Qin Jue acknowledge the favor, Mo Xingkong's face lit up with a grin. His earlier restraint melted away, and his street-smart demeanor resurfaced.

"So... Brother Qin, since we're friends now, I won't hold back."

Mo Xingkong rubbed his hands together, looking every bit the sly merchant as he pulled a crumpled little booklet from his robe. "This humble one may not be much in a fight, but when it comes to gathering info, if I say I'm second in the Outer Court, no one dares claim first. Whether it's a senior sister's preferences, the inside scoop on Deacon Hall bounties, or the Black Market auction list—if Brother Qin wants to know, I've got it all!"

"From now on, if Brother Qin needs any intelligence, just come to me. I'll give you a friend's discount—twenty percent off! How about it?"

Qin Jue studied Mo Xingkong, a flicker of thought crossing his mind.

Intelligence.

That was exactly what he needed most right now.

Newly arrived in this world, his understanding came mostly from the original body's limited memories. The hidden rules, the distribution of power, the channels for resources—all of it was a blank to him.

And this Mo Xingkong, slick as he seemed, had clear eyes and didn't come off as a villain. His movement technique was no joke, marking him as someone smart enough to avoid trouble.

Dealing with a clever man was often less hassle than befriending a fool.

"Alright."

Qin Jue nodded. "If I need something, I'll find you. As long as the information is accurate, I'll trade with equivalent resources."

"Deal! Brother Qin, you're generous!"

At the words "equivalent resources," Mo Xingkong's eyes lit up like candles in the dead of night. He took a swig from the gourd at his waist, cupped his hands toward Qin Jue, and said, "I won't keep you from picking treasures at the Myriad Scrolls Pavilion. See you around!"

With that, the fellow's feet slid, and he slipped into the crowd like an eel. His movement was so bizarre and agile that those nearby only saw a blur before he vanished.

"Flowing Cloud Movement Technique..."

Qin Jue gazed at the spot where Mo Xingkong had disappeared, lost in thought.

Though this technique was only Mortal Tier Mid-grade, in Mo Xingkong's hands, it carried a flowing, effortless grace—clearly honed over years.

"So the Outer Court truly hides dragons and crouching tigers."

Qin Jue withdrew his gaze and turned to face the towering Myriad Scrolls Pavilion before him.

The massive pagoda, built entirely of black ironwood, exuded a blend of sandalwood and the scent of old books. Above the entrance hung a giant plaque inscribed with three gilded characters—"Myriad Scrolls Pavilion"—the strokes bold and forceful, faintly radiating a pressure of their own.