In this world, cultivation hinged on one thing: the heart.
If your mind and will fell short, then even with countless divine arts laid out before you, you would struggle to get started. No amount of diligence would help.
Conversely, if your mind and will were up to the task, then even if you cultivated only basic techniques, given enough time, you could still reach an exceedingly high level.
Of course, there was another kind of person: one with extraordinary character and all manner of divine arts at their disposal. Such a person was all but Invincible.
In this world, this way of thinking was practically common knowledge.
But common knowledge was still just common knowledge. Knowing something did not mean you could do it.
There was a saying: "I know all the reasoning already." That only meant you understood it.
So Zhou Yu knew that Zhao Cheng's joke was entirely grounded in reality.
And because it was grounded in reality, it cut all the deeper—truly, one strike to kill.
Still, Zhou Yu stubbornly insisted, "It wasn't me. Don't make things up. Heaven may grow old and earth may fall to ruin, but my love lasts forever."
Zhao Cheng laughed. "I know. Love doesn't disappear; it just shifts to someone else. A month ago, you called Yui your wife. Half a month ago, you called Mai your wife. Now you want to marry your senior. You're still you. Your love really does last forever..."
At that, Zhou Yu stammered a couple of times, unable to think of how to keep insisting otherwise.
Zhou Yu wasn't lacking in cultivation talent. On top of that, he was physically imposing and naturally strong—in short, he was born to cultivate.
He was simply too young and too fickle, and that held back his progress.
The first realm of cultivation was called Quietude, a process of purifying one's thoughts.
In ancient times, before the Way of cultivation had become widespread, some people spent most of their lives studying, pursuing knowledge, understanding principles, and cultivating themselves and their families. Then, in middle age, they would suddenly obtain the methods of cultivation and leap straight past the first realm.
Of course, before Zhao Cheng's memories had awakened, his thoughts had been even more scattered than Zhou Yu's.
After all, they were young. Few of them could keep their minds settled.
In his previous life, Zhao Cheng had graduated and entered the workforce. It took a few years of getting beaten down by society before his mind gradually settled.
Such life experience was undoubtedly an advantage, especially when it came to cultivation in this world.
Time always flew by when they were chatting.
Ding-a-ling!
At the sound of the bell, the classroom fell abruptly silent. Then whispers broke out, buzzing like a swarm of mosquitoes.
It wasn't until the teacher walked into the classroom that it finally quieted down completely.
The shift between bustle and silence, together with the sunlight outside the window and the scent of books, always nourished Zhao Cheng's spirit.
In a sense, this was also a way of nurturing the mind.
But it only worked for someone like Zhao Cheng, who was in a special position. The other students had never been beaten down by society and didn't know how precious this peaceful life was.
History came after physics. In this world, the arts and sciences were not separated.
The reason was simple: they sought to develop the mind in all its breadth.
Without investigating things, one could not know the truth; without understanding history, one could not carry on virtue!
Mathematics, physics, and chemistry revealed the truth; politics, history, and geography carried on morality.
The former taught the principles governing how the world worked. Once you learned them, you wouldn't fall for superstition. The latter taught you the past and the present, and helped you understand how society changed and evolved.
And cultivation, which flourished in this world, placed even greater emphasis on the heart. If the heart was not upright, nothing could be achieved; if the heart was not sincere, nothing could be achieved. Naturally, they would not choose to walk on one leg alone.
As for dividing knowledge into ever more specialized fields, that was for university. In high school, the emphasis was on cultivating a broad foundation.
Compared with a precise subject like physics, history was different. Zhao Cheng spent most of the class daydreaming and only listened now and then, but by the time it ended, he had still learned something.
Besides, Zhao Cheng had always been interested in history.
After all, the history of this world had diverged from that of his previous life after the Shang dynasty, tracing a crisscrossing path like two intersecting hyperbolas.
There were many people and things that resembled those from his old world, but there were also many differences.
Take the Spring and Autumn period, for instance. Back then, Confucius traveled from state to state, raising a city gate with one hand and standing unrivaled in courage.
Most importantly, this fearsome Confucius had gone around to reason with people, not to test his martial strength.
Even today, the museum in Qufu, Luoyang, still preserved the massive sword Confucius had worn when he traveled among the states.
Though a thousand years had passed, the sword still retained Confucius's Sword Intent of Benevolence.
Later, Qin unified the realm. The First Emperor was peerless in his divine arts, and with the Emperor Sword Technique, he carved the Nine Provinces in two. Wherever his blade passed, none could stand against him.
Yet after Qin fell, it was not Han that inherited the Nine Provinces, but Chu.
In his previous life, individual martial strength had little power to influence the outcome of a war. In this world, things were different.
But a mere thirty years after the death of Chu's Grand Ancestor, the state had gone through six emperors. In the end, Li Zicheng, who had risen from humble beginnings, swept across the land with a three-foot sword and founded the Han dynasty.
The twists and turns of it all might not seem very interesting if you looked only at the history of one world. But put the histories of two worlds side by side, and the subject became utterly fascinating.
Zhao Cheng had no idea what principles lay behind it. History had changed so drastically, yet there were always similar people who appeared to "correct" it, keeping the history of this world from becoming completely unrecognizable after the Shang dynasty.
All Zhao Cheng could do was speculate with the amateur-scientist knowledge he'd brought from his previous life. Perhaps it had something to do with interference between parallel universes.
There was no doubt that the two worlds were connected. After all, the very existence of Zhao Cheng himself was the clearest evidence he could see.
If the two worlds had nothing to do with each other, he could never have crossed over into this one.
But as for how close the connection was, from where he stood, even the closest connection was an infinitely distant one. He had no way to cross it.
The teacher at the podium had a deep grasp of history. He didn't simply recite from the textbook. Instead, he wove little stories into the history, occasionally leaping between eras to connect people and events from different times into a whole.
Yet even while teaching this way, he never seemed disorganized. Everything was methodical, a clear display of his skill.
That day, he was teaching modern history. He spoke of how, after the fall of Ming, Li Zicheng had obtained the First Emperor's legacy and fought his way across the land, driving out the northern invaders. At Shanhai Pass, he killed Huang Taiji with five sword strikes, nailing him to the Wolf-Suppressing Stone. His blood dripped for three whole days and nights before it finally dried.
The teacher told the story with such vivid detail that certain parts sounded more like a tale told by a storyteller, as if he himself had witnessed them.
It was worth mentioning that the teacher's surname was Li.
What caught Zhao Cheng's attention wasn't that Li Zicheng had killed Huang Taiji, but the detail about the blood dripping for three days and three nights.
In his previous life, that would undoubtedly have been a storyteller's exaggeration. In this world, it was clearly just a factual account.
Huang Taiji's life force had been astonishingly powerful. Even after he was killed, his body would keep producing blood. Letting it drip for three days and three nights was no exaggeration.