After examining him, they found that Lu Changfeng had merely been shaken emotionally, aggravating the injury in his chest and causing him to faint. He was not in serious danger, and only then did Chen Yulian let out a breath of relief.
Pulling Lu Wu-bing aside, she hesitated before saying, "Don't make things difficult for your father. He has spent his life being kind to others. His medical skills are superb, but his temperament is rather stubborn. Especially when it comes to the ancestral precepts—he takes them seriously and guards them strictly."
This was troublesome.
"Mother, if such an inherited item truly exists, it must be what the Eastern Sea Sword Sect is after. At a critical moment, everything must yield to expediency..."
Lu Wu-bing was somewhat anxious as well. The longer the night, the greater the chance of trouble. Whether they could break this deadlock hinged on whether his family truly possessed that thing.
There was a saying from his previous life that put it well: if others suspected you had something, you had better truly have it.
The Eastern Sea Sword Sect had come with great momentum. Whatever they sought, until they achieved their goal, they would surely dig three feet into the ground, leaving neither chickens nor dogs behind. They would never rest until they found it.
"Come with me."
Chen Yulian's brows rose slightly. Only now did he see some of her decisiveness.
"Your father dug a cellar beneath the bedroom and never hid it from me. Though I don't know whether it contains the thing you're looking for, if it truly exists, it should be here."
As she spoke, she moved the wardrobe aside and carefully pried up a blue brick in the corner with a paper-cutting knife. Reaching inside, she turned and twisted the mechanism, and a creaking sound came from within the room.
A hole three feet square opened in one corner of the room, stone steps stretching down into darkness.
"Take a lamp and go inside. I'll stand guard outside."
Chen Yulian sighed and turned to leave.
Lu Wu-bing lit an oil lamp and carried his longsword in hand. Mao Mao darted in from beside his feet to scout ahead, soon letting out a cheerful meow.
Once inside, he found the cellar's furnishings extremely simple. Lumps of quicklime were piled in a corner, while several large chests sat upon a wooden rack in the middle of the room.
He opened several of the chests.
Lu Wu-bing found that their contents were just as simple.
One chest held gold ingots, another silver.
A smaller chest contained several secret manuals: diagrams of the human body's acupoints, methods for cultivating the Six Yang Divine Needles, and secrets for applying the needles.
And, of course, a copy of the Primal Spirit Swordplay, which now looked especially glaring.
Lu Wu-bing flipped through it and found it identical to the family swordplay he had practiced. It contained only moves and sword-handling techniques, nothing else.
Besides those chests, there was also a book-sized rectangular object beside them, tightly wrapped in fine yellow satin.
"Could this be it?"
Lu Wu-bing's heart began to pound.
Though the yellow satin was dust-stained and no longer so bright in color, the blood-red writing upon it remained clearly visible.
He undid the ribbon and glanced at it. He happened to recognize the words and could read them aloud.
"Guanyin Bodhisattva, practicing deeply the Prajna Paramita..."
What exactly was inside? Had it been suppressed with a Buddhist Heart Sutra?
He tore open the seal and opened the box, revealing a yellowed handwritten booklet. Several large characters were written across it: "Yuanling Swordplay Manual."
"It really exists!"
Lu Wu-bing could no longer restrain his urgency. He hurriedly opened the book. On the first page, bright red ink read: "Benevolent and righteous people, do not practice this art. Devour spirits and feed on souls; ten thousand swords return to the sect..."
Lu Wu-bing's heart tightened.
Continuing downward, he saw words written at the bottom of the first page: "Open the Six Divine Meridians; body and intent attain completion, and swordplay reaches the divine."
The following pages detailed the cultivation method.
"First Meridian: Devouring Heaven. Let intent travel through Chengjiang, Fengfu, Huagai, Shendao, Zhiyang, Tianshu, Yuanguan, Quantai..."
"Second Meridian: Scenting Fragrance. Let intent travel through Wushan, Huiwo, Bieyue..."
"Third Meridian: Utmost Bliss... Fourth Meridian: Bathing in Fire... Fifth Meridian: No Gap... Sixth Meridian: Bewildering Heart..."
Each meridian not only came with diagrams of the body's acupoints, but also specified a unique breathing rhythm.
Lu Wu-bing swept his gaze over it, his eyes widening.
Although the original owner had not learned much, the courses of meridians and distribution of acupoints were the deepest memories he possessed. They were needed not only for healing the sick and saving lives, but also for cultivating the family's Six Yang Divine Needles and Six Yang Meridians, where not the slightest deviation was permitted.
All this knowledge existed in his memories.
He knew that besides the twelve primary meridians and eight extraordinary meridians, the human body actually possessed many hidden meridians, which ordinary cultivation methods found difficult to reach.
Legend said that in martial arts, once a hidden meridian was opened, not only would one's techniques greatly increase in power, but all manner of wondrous effects would emerge.
This booklet taught people how to open the Six Divine Meridians—six corresponding hidden meridians. It even had a unique breathing technique to accompany them.
The names of the six meridians subtly corresponded to the six desires, and their conception was lofty. This was a true divine art and secret method.
"The Lu family's Primal Spirit Swordplay lacks its fundamental heart method. It would be strange if it could display any real power."
Lu Wu-bing sighed inwardly. After turning it over in his mind, he still decided to see just how wicked this art was. Perhaps he could practice it.
At least it did not require castration. There was still time to regret it.
"I'll start with the First Meridian: Devouring Heaven method."
No sooner had he thought it than he acted. Following the first meridian's breathing method, he adjusted his breathing rhythm and locked his intent tightly upon the starting point, Chengjiang. Very soon, a thread of breath emerged from the Chengjiang acupoint, turning the impossible into possible as it traveled along a meridian route that did not exist, straight toward Fengfu...
Lu Wu-bing's entire body trembled, and an indescribable violence rose in his heart.
He seemed to smell a fishy sweetness between his nose and mouth, and his heart itched to make a move.
"Stop. Stop, stop for me..."
Lu Wu-bing inwardly cried that things were bad. This technique truly was wicked—it could actually alter his temperament?
With the willpower of a man quitting flour, he forcibly halted the breathing method, pulled back the hand reaching toward the little cat beside him, and slammed a hard palm against his own chest. The blow made him cough violently, and his eyes were already bloodshot.
"Meow..."
Mao Mao, who had been looking up at her master all along, suddenly cried out in alarm. Arching her body, she shot onto the stone steps and sprang away, leaving the cellar in the blink of an eye.
"Huff, huff..."
Lu Wu-bing swayed, his teeth grinding with creaks. In a fluster, he pulled out the small pieces of jerky he carried to feed the cat and wolfed them down like a starving ghost, swallowing them without even chewing.
For that brief instant, he had actually thought the little cat looked delicious. He had wanted to skin her, pull out her bones, devour her raw and whole—he had even been unable to control his own hand.
Moreover, that bloodthirsty impulse would quietly alter his understanding, making him believe that the supreme truth of the world was the strong eating the weak. So what if he killed a few people and treated them as blood food?
So long as he grew strong, controlled his own fate, and ascended to the summit of immortality, why should he care what a few ants thought?
There was no one under heaven who could not be killed!
Once such wicked thoughts appeared, they were like a wildfire sweeping across the plains, impossible to suppress.
"Fortunately, I only tested it. I didn't sink too deeply into it, so I can still pull myself back."
As Lu Wu-bing congratulated himself inwardly, he soon discovered that he had been far too optimistic.
It was not because the aftereffects remained.
It was because he had seen the benefits.
He moved unconsciously and felt strength surging through his arm, a sensation that demanded release. His heart moved, and so did his body. He drew the longsword at his side and thrust forward.
Whoosh...
The keen blade tore through the wind.
A piercing sword cry rang out within the secret chamber.
The jerky he had just swallowed transformed into a torrent in an instant, becoming vital essence. With this thrust, he was actually two parts faster than when he had fought the Life-Severing Sword earlier.
Lu Wu-bing refused to believe it and thrust twice more.
He discovered something even more terrifying.
Though the vital essence transformed from the jerky had already been completely exhausted, his swordplay had, under a trace of strange fluctuation, become permanently a fraction faster.
"This strange fluctuation is like fire and waves. It can drive up sword speed and make the mind more vigorous, as though one had taken a powerful stimulant. Devouring spirits and feeding on souls—what a devouring of spirits and feeding on souls."
He had only tested it, not truly begun cultivating it, yet it already brought such "benefits." To martial artists, what kind of temptation was that?
Without unwavering conviction and noble character, how could one withstand this hunger of the heart—this addiction?
Most wicked of all, it affected the mind until friend and foe were no longer distinguished. Mao Mao was so adorable, yet I actually wanted to eat her.
Pah!
No wonder the original owner's grandfather, Lu Chengyun, had left an ancestral precept forbidding his descendants from touching it. They were not even allowed to look at it.
It was because he understood better than anyone.
Once this thing was cultivated, it would be difficult to ever turn back.
"Benevolent and righteous people, do not practice this art..." Lu Wu-bing's gaze returned to those first words, and a terrifying thought suddenly surfaced in his mind.
Grandfather Lu Chengyun had undoubtedly practiced this art, and he had cultivated it to a profound realm.
Then how exactly had he succeeded in cultivating it?
What sort of truth lay hidden behind the Hall of Returning Spring's healing of the dying and saving of the wounded?
Lu Wu-bing frowned and pondered hard. After thinking it over and over, he carefully read the Buddhist scripture on the box again, only to find that it was no different from the sutra in his memories. Reciting it produced no reaction either.
Most likely, the scripture was merely Grandfather's wishful thought, hoping that he could cross over to the other shore through wisdom. It was useless as shit.
Then where was the method that actually worked?
"Before finding a way to resolve this technique's drawbacks, this sword manual absolutely cannot be practiced. If I lose my mind and slaughter all my own people first, that would be a joke."
"A chicken rib."
Lu Wu-bing looked disappointed. It was indeed a good thing, but he could see it and not eat it.
Compared to the grave flaw of "losing oneself," even that sword art from the story, which merely required cutting off one's cock, seemed somewhat mild.
"For now, I cannot cultivate it while taking such enormous risks. I cannot even test it again. I must first find a way to stabilize my mind..."
For the moment, however, he could use this [chicken rib] to break the Lu family's deadlock first."
Before you continue