Mysterious Scripture

This was precisely one of the movements from the Ox Demon Great Strength Fist, known as the "Ox Demon Horn Thrust." Just as he was about to head out, a piece of dark gold paper suddenly appeared amidst the ashes of the Martial Classic that had been burning in the brazier. It was densely covered in tiny script and illustrations; it seemed to be gold leaf, yet it had not been consumed by the fire.

"What? Father is back? Why is he calling for me? What could he possibly have to say?" The Marquis's estate remained the same as ever; it had not changed simply because he had been away. The entire estate, with its seven or eight hundred people, was bustling with excitement in preparation for the New Year. Only his small room remained cold and desolate, with no one coming to visit, as if he were an outcast from the rest of the household.

"This is bad. The Martial Classic is a forbidden book. And it bears the seal of the Great Zen Temple. If my father were to find out... It is fortunate that the other volumes were well hidden, but it is too late to hide this one." Seeing the book burn to ash in the brazier, Hong Yi set his mind at ease, stood up to straighten his clothes, opened the door, and followed the old steward to see his father. Throughout the entire estate, the only person who treated him with any courtesy was this old steward.

"I wonder if I have reached the level of a Martial Student yet? Probably not. I have only been training for half a month. Although I have had the 'Jade Nectar' wine from Bai Ziyue to nourish my body for four or five days, along with his careful guidance, I am still lacking in refinement." The person who had come was a white-haired old man dressed in black. Suddenly, a steady sound of footsteps echoed at the entrance of his small courtyard.

Patrons of these large shops included young princes and nobles in fine clothes and spirited horses, scholars in green robes, wealthy merchants, and groups of idle capital officials and literati. Hong Yi recognized this old man as the head steward of the entire estate. He belonged neither to the faction of Lady Zhao, the first wife, nor to the "Yunting Studio" of the second wife, nor to the people of the third wife; he was the head steward who answered directly to his father, Marquis Wuwen.

This movement—grabbing the thigh, then the calf, pressing the abdomen, and stepping forward—was like a great ox thrusting its horns, yet it was far more than a simple stride. It was like sailing on the vast ocean; as long as the ship was sturdy, the heart would naturally remain calm. No matter how the winds and waves rose, one could sit firmly on the fishing platform.

Returning to the estate now, he felt as if he had lived through a lifetime. In his small room, Hong Yi stood with his legs one in front of the other, bent his body, and grabbed the tendons of his thighs with both hands. With a violent shake, he channeled his strength into his thighs, and suddenly, the two tendons in his legs emitted a soft, snapping sound.

And now, it was too late to hide it properly.

"No wonder scholars are required to practice archery and horsemanship. Strengthening the physique can also steady the mind and bolster one's self-confidence."

"Who could be coming to my small courtyard? Could it be that maid, Xiao Ning?" Hong Yi pushed open the paper-covered window to look out and was immediately taken aback. He could not rest easy leaving this book in his study. If he went out and someone happened to enter and discover this forbidden book, the trouble would be immense.

Hong Yi performed several more movements, feeling the large muscles in his limbs, abdomen, chest, and back grow noticeably hot and filled with a sense of power. He held his breath, curled his tongue against his teeth, and focused his spirit on his fist, throwing a punch into the empty air.

Hong Yi was deeply shocked. Although Marquis Wuwen was his father, he had only seen him a few times. Among his dozen or so siblings, he was the most inconspicuous and lowest in status; there was no reason for Hong Xuanji to call for him.

Hah! Every time Hong Xuanji stayed late at the Cabinet in the Forbidden City handling state affairs, it was this man who delivered his clothes and food boxes.

The heavy snow had just ceased, and Yujing City had returned to its bustling prosperity. The streets were filled with people, and the large shops were particularly lively: the food and banquets of the Gathering Origin Pavilion, the courtesans of the Flower Scattering Pavilion, the brushes and ink of the Pine and Bamboo Studio, the silks of the Songjiang Shop, the antiques of the Ancient Intent Pavilion, and the jewelry of the Gold and Jade Hall—all were the most vibrant spots in Yujing.

"It is best if these people do not bother me. I can close my door to practice martial arts and study. Besides, my body has felt very comfortable lately, and my limbs feel much stronger."

However, he now had money, so he did not lack those things. When the Pure Fox Clan moved, they had gifted him ten gold coins. Even standard gold could be exchanged at a rate of one to fifteen, let alone pure gold. Ten pure gold coins, if taken to the Gold and Jade Hall to be exchanged for silver, would fetch at least two hundred taels. That was enough for Hong Yi to live on for a long time.

Hong Yi had already returned from West Mountain, but his thoughts remained entirely in that secluded valley.

His entire body's large muscles vibrated with that punch, as if some of their power had gathered in his fist, creating an indescribable feeling of tingling comfort and strength.

Regardless of the bustle inside and outside the estate or the liveliness of Yujing City, none of it had anything to do with Hong Yi.

"I am no longer a scholar with no strength to truss a chicken. As long as I keep training like this, I will only grow stronger." Hong Yi sensed the strength in his body, feeling a satisfied joy and a greater sense of stability.

This Martial Classic was a collection from the Great Zen Temple, annotated by a monk named Zen Master Yinyue. Although many parts were incomplete and untrainable, the underlying principles were explained thoroughly, allowing Hong Yi to gain a deeper understanding of the Ox Demon Great Strength Fist.

If the ship is not sturdy, even a stable mind will have nothing to rely on and will fear the coming of the storm. Of course, the old steward was courteous to everyone; it was said that in all these years, no one had ever seen him lose his temper.

Hong Yi sometimes even wondered if Hong Xuanji was even aware that he had a son like him. These past ten days—meeting the foxes, teaching, organizing books, cultivating his soul and practicing martial arts, and meeting Bai Ziyue to drink and talk for four or five days—all felt like a vivid dream.

Hong Yi wondered to himself if he had reached the level of hardening and filling out his muscles, the level of a "Martial Student" as defined by the military's Martial Hall.

Marquis Wuwen, Hong Xuanji, governed his household with strict ritual and law. The rules were rigid; one was required to arrive immediately, or else face the family law. Furthermore, Hong Yi himself was a shrewd scholar, most adept at discerning a speaker's intent from their words.

Hong Yi finally understood why scholars placed such importance on archery and horsemanship. It turned out that strengthening the physique could also steady one's mind; when the body is strong, the heart is at peace.

Especially now that it was the twelfth lunar month, approaching the end of the year. The Emperor was to perform the rites of heaven and receive envoys from various nations. Envoys from the Huoluo Kingdom of the Western Regions, the Yunmeng Kingdom of the East, the Yuantu Kingdom of the North, and the southern island nations like Divine Wind and Liuzhu had all taken up residence in the guesthouses of Yujing. These people in their strange and exotic clothing often walked about, admiring the prosperity of Yujing, the greatest city of the Great Gan Dynasty, adding even more excitement to the capital.

In this sixtieth year, the golden age of the Great Gan had reached its peak. Ever since the Great Gan had soundly defeated the invading iron cavalry of Yunmeng twenty years ago and counter-attacked, forcing a peace treaty at Qingsha Pass that forbade further war, the Great Gan Dynasty had entered a period of prosperity, becoming the most massive empire on the entire continent.

"The old steward?"

Setting aside the bustle of Yujing City, the estate of Marquis Wuwen had also become lively. Servants began to clean, scrubbing every corner until it was spotless, hanging lanterns and streamers in preparation for the New Year.

Hong Yi suddenly remembered something and, acting decisively, threw the Martial Classic into the brazier, watching it catch fire. The servants, stewards, maids, and guards would all be given gifts of clothing and silver for the New Year, but none of it ever reached him.

Following this, he quickly switched hands to grab his calf muscles, shook them in the same manner, released, pressed his hands against his abdomen, thrust forward, and took a step.

Seeing Hong Yi, the old steward stopped and nodded, revealing a smile: "Young Master Yi, the Marquis has returned and wants you to come over. He has something to say."

Filled with joy, Hong Yi sat at the table and opened a volume of the Martial Classic to continue reading and pondering.

When Hong Yi creaked the window open, the old steward's eyes had looked over in that exact instant, as if synchronized with Hong Yi's movement, possessing a sense of premonition.

Hong Yi knew that once, when Hong Gui, the son of the third wife, had gotten drunk and happened to be late when Hong Xuanji returned to test his studies, the Marquis had sent for him. Because he was late, he was subjected to the family law, his legs broken, and he had to lie in bed for a full half-year to recover.