"Exactly what I need!"
Fang Han A faint smile appeared on the corner of his mouth and he continued to read back.
The second page is the general outline, which explains the cultivation principles and core key points of <Shadowveil>. The text is simple and profound.
The main text begins on the third page, densely packed with small regular script and supplemented by several complex diagrams of the human body's meridians.
It is marked with the route of Internal Qi's operation, the method of converging Qi and blood, and the formula for coordinating the mind and body.
Fang Han Read it word for word.
Although these words are difficult and these meridians diagrams are complicated, with his current attainments in the secret arts and the exaggerated Secret Art Talent after Talent Amplification, it is not too difficult to understand them.
He continued to scroll down, but he felt something was wrong.
At first there was just a vague sense of dissonance.
It's like two piano strings that are supposed to resonate at the same frequency, but are so slightly different that it always sounds like they're not harmonious enough.
He stopped reading, closed his eyes, and re-read the pages he had just read in his mind.
This time, he did not swallow it wholeheartedly, but went over it word by word, corroborating the general outline, main text, and illustrations with each other.
Then, his brows slowly frowned.
"Something's wrong!"
Fang Han opened his eyes and his gaze fell on the animal skin booklet in his hand.
He started reading from the beginning again, this time reading more slowly and carefully.
Every formula was chewed over and over again, every map was carefully compared, and every Internal Qi running route was repeatedly deduced in my mind.
When he turned to the fifth page, he finally found the source of the dissonance.
This page records a formula about "Internal Qi operation".
According to the cultivation principle of <Return to Ruin Essence Concealment Art>, the core of the art of breath concentration lies in "convergence".
It is necessary to keep all the Internal Qi, Qi, blood, and vitality within the body, so that one's own breath can be integrated with the surrounding environment like water dripping into the sea.
However, this mantra requires the practitioner to draw Internal Qi out of the body and attach it to the body surface when operating the secret technique.
"There's something wrong with this technique!"
Fang Han's brows furrowed tighter and tighter.
He deduced the exercise route of this mantra over and over again in his mind, and finally came to a conclusion.
If you practice according to this formula, at least it will be difficult to achieve the secret technique, and at worst, you will Internal Qi act randomly, your meridians will be damaged, and you will suffer backlash.
"This master's secret technique is fake!"
Fang Han put down the booklet and was silent for a moment.
He will practice Perfection Realm with a copy of High Grade Breath Concealment Secret Technique. He has profound attainments in the secret arts.
In addition, after taking Secret Art Fruit, Secret Art Talent has greatly improved, and my intuition in secret skill cultivation is far sharper than before.
Only then can we smell the slightest hint of inconsistency in this seemingly inscrutable secret book.
"It's actually a fake secret book."
Fang Han whispered these three words, and the sound echoed gently in the silent cave.
I thought this was a master-level book, Breath Concealment Secret Technique, which could make up for his shortcomings in collecting breath.
Little did he know that what he had worked so hard to grab was actually a fake secret book.
The level of fraud in this fake secret book is indeed extremely high.
If he hadn't been profoundly accomplished in the secret arts and had a very high level of Secret Art Talent, he might not have noticed the problem at all. He would have regarded it as a real master's secret technique and started practicing it excitedly.
Then, either the secret technique is difficult to achieve and a lot of time and energy are wasted, or Internal Qi goes retrograde, suffers backlash, and is seriously injured.
"Who is he and why did he fake it?"
Fang Han suppressed the disappointment in his heart and fell into deep thought.
Who is faking it?
Why do this?
The information currently known is extremely limited, and it is difficult for him to speculate on the purpose of the counterfeiters behind the scenes.
"No matter what the reason is, this person most likely has the real master's secret technique in his hands."
Fang Han's eyes flashed slightly.
Being able to make the fake look real and almost deceive him is definitely not something that ordinary people can do.
This is only possible if there is a mixture of truth and falsehood. This person most likely has the real master's secret technique in his hands.
"If we can find this person, we are very likely to be able to harvest a real master's secret technique!"
Fang Han closes <Shadowveil> and activates <Thousand-Mile Soul Lock> with all its strength.
Perfection Realm and Tracking Secret Technique unfolded without reservation, sensing the secret book in their hands.
His mind was highly concentrated, and he was able to distinguish the remaining breath on this animal skin book one by one from the vast sea of breath.
The smell of the lean man, the smell of the bald man, and the smell of the men in black--
These were all acquired in the woodland outside Songbridge City. It only lasted half a day, but the smell was still strong.
And under these several breaths, there is also an extremely thin, indistinct breath.
The aura was so light that if he hadn't pushed <Thousand-Mile Soul Lock> to the extreme and concentrated his mind, he wouldn't have noticed it at all.
And this breath does not belong to the lean man, nor to the bald man, nor to those men in black.
"It's most likely the breath of the counterfeiter."
Fang Han opened his eyes, a glimmer of light flashed in his eyes, and he firmly remembered this extremely weak breath.
"As long as this person appears within ten miles of me, I can recognize him."
Fang Han stood up, took out the map to identify the direction, deployed <Wind God Step>, and headed towards the nearest city.
Because the smell was too weak and only remained on the fake secret books, he was unable to track the forger.
However, as long as you search city after city, you can always find traces of counterfeiters.
Although it will take a lot of time, it is completely worth it for a master's secret book.
In the next few days, Fang Han visited every city within a radius of several hundred miles.
Whenever he arrived at a city, he did not enter the city, but stood in an inconspicuous corner outside the city gate, pushing <Thousand-Mile Soul Lock> to the extreme, sensing every breath in the city.
On the first day, he visited three cities.
Not found.
The next day, he visited four more cities.
Still haven't found it.
On the third day, he came to a small town named "Green Creek City".
The city wall is low, and the banners on the city head hang listlessly in the dusk.
"Buzz--"
Fang Han stopped under an ancient tree outside the city gate, <Thousand-Mile Soul Lock> pushed with all his strength, and sensed sweeping toward the city.
Diners in restaurants, travelers in inns, passers-by on the streets, residents in houses--
Countless scents intertwined together, turning into an extremely complex scent picture.
He swept from the East City to the West City, and from South City to the North City.
Then, his perception suddenly condensed.
In an inconspicuous courtyard in the west of the city, a breath entered his perception. It was restrained and had a faint coldness that was not easy to detect.
"Found it."
Fang Han slowly opened his eyes, a faint smile appeared on the corner of his mouth. It took him a few days to finally find this breath.
Wearing Human Skin Mask, he stepped into the city.
Instead of rushing to where the breath was, I found a small shop to drink tea and listen to storytelling.
It wasn't until nightfall that he left the teahouse and rushed to where the breath was.
Green Creek City is not that big. The west part of the city is mostly populated by civilians. The lanes are narrow and winding, and the bluestone pavement is bumpy due to disrepair.
Under the moonlight, Fang Han followed the direction from which the breath came, passed through several narrow alleys that could only accommodate two people side by side, and stopped in front of an inconspicuous courtyard.
The courtyard wall is low, with mottled green bricks, and a few half-dry vines crawling on the top of the wall.
The courtyard door was closed tightly, and the New Year pictures of the Door God taped to the door panel had faded into only a few blurry patches of color.
"Buzz--"
Fang Han did not rush to sneak in. Instead, he activated <Thousand-Mile Soul Lock> to the extreme, and his senses poured into the hospital like a tide to confirm the situation in the hospital.
"There is only one breath."
From the perception, there is only one person in the courtyard. Judging from the breath, this person is most likely a Third Grade warrior.
"Hopefully something will come of it!"
Fang Han carefully smoothed the wrinkles on the temples of Human Skin Mask. After confirming that there were no problems, he climbed over the wall and sneaked in.
After climbing over the wall, the soles of Fang Han's boots fell on the green bricks in the courtyard, making no sound.
The yard is not big, and there are several half-person-high pottery urns piled in the corner. The mouths of the urns are sealed with red cloth, and there is a faint smell of pungent potion.
The door to the main room was ajar, and a dim light shone through the crack in the door, casting a long and thin shadow on the stone steps in front of the door.
"Whoosh!"
Opening the door, Fang Han quickly stepped in.
A Third Grade warrior, even among the powerful, is enough to be a guest, but the furnishings in the house are simple and almost shabby.
There is a table, a chair, a bed, and a wooden cabinet standing in the corner.
Seven or eight distressed animal skins were spread out on the table, and a few pottery bowls were placed next to them, with half-dried ink and paint in the bowls.
The air was filled with an unpleasant smell of potion, which was exactly the same as the smell emanating from the pottery urns in the courtyard.
There is a man sitting behind the table.
The man was about fifty years old, and he was so thin that he almost lost his appearance. He had high cheekbones and deep-set eye sockets. His eyes glowed with a cold luster under the dim light.
Wearing a gray cloth gown, there were a few ink stains on the cuffs, his fingers were as slender as dead branches, and his knuckles were covered with calluses.
"Who?"
Hearing the noise, the man suddenly raised his head and saw Fang Han dodging into the room.
His pupils shrank suddenly, and his right hand reached under the table like lightning, touching the bottom of the table.
There, a short gun was placed.
However, Fang Han obviously will not give him a chance.
"Whoosh!"
Fang Han moved.
His figure was like an invisible wisp of wind, and he reached the man's side in an instant.
His right hand clasped the opponent's left wrist that was reaching under the table, and his left hand had already grabbed the opponent's throat.
Three hundred thousand kilograms of physical strength exploded without reservation, lifting the man into the air and slamming him against the wall.
The wall shook violently, and a few wisps of plaster fell.
The man groaned, and the Third Grade warrior's protective body Internal Qi surged wildly under Fang Han's palm, but was shattered like waves hitting a rock.
He wanted to raise his leg and kick Fang Han in the waist and abdomen, but Fang Han just hit the man's abdomen with his knee. A sharp pain spread from his abdomen, and the man temporarily lost his strength in pain.
"Who are you...?"
The man asked in a low voice.
Those eyes reflected the flickering flame of the oil lamp, flickering brightly and dimly.
"I ask, you answer."
Without answering the man's question, Fang Han strangled the man's throat and tightened his fingers slightly.