Gouchen

Inner Canon stated plainly: "The pulse should accord with the four seasons: wiry in spring, hooked in summer, floating in autumn, and stone-like in winter." Classic of Difficulties explained "stone-like" as "deep," and later generations all followed this interpretation. Since "hooked" corresponded to summer and "deep" to winter, "Gouchen" in fact referred to summer and winter, much like "spring and autumn."

Xia Dong opened his eyes groggily, and the faint echo of a bell rang in his mind.

It seemed far away in the heavens, yet also as though it had emerged from deep underground, inspiring an involuntary chill and reverence.

In an instant, many things became clear to him.

He had crossed into another world, and his current name was also Xia Dong.

This was... an ancient world.

At that moment, an old, mottled Bronze Ancient Bell resided in his mind.

Xia Dong could even "see" it clearly.

Crimson, twisted characters slowly appeared across the bell's surface.

They looked like oracle-bone script.

Xia Dong hadn't known this kind of writing before.

But when he "gazed" at the bell, he naturally understood what the characters meant.

Name: Xia Dong.

Codename: Gouchen.

Talent: One Proof Eternal Proof.

Spirit Root: None.

Great You Dynasty, Pingyang County.

Xia Dong was eighteen this year.

His parents had died young, leaving behind no valuable possessions. The only thing of any worth was probably this cramped little courtyard.

For the past three months, the neighbors had seldom seen Xia Dong.

But they often heard the sound of reading coming from the Xia Family's courtyard.

The clear, sonorous recitation carried a sense of calm and peace.

Whenever the neighborhood rascals passed by, they would unconsciously quiet down and behave.

Three days ago, county yamen runners had beaten gongs and drums as they posted a red notice outside the courtyard gate. Only then did the neighbors learn that the orphan in their alley—the young master of the Xia Family—had quietly passed the prefectural examination and become a licentiate.

With a respectable man among the neighbors, naturally, many came to offer their congratulations.

A licentiate wasn't a lord, but he didn't have to kneel even when meeting one.

There were plenty of other advantages, too.

For instance, if anyone in the neighborhood got into trouble and had to go to the yamen, at least they'd know a neighbor who could help get word to the county authorities.

Everyone happily chipped in to pay for several tables of food for Xia Dong, and the gathering was lively and boisterous.

Several days later, the commotion faded into quiet.

Dark moss grew between the courtyard's blue bricks.

Xia Dong stood with his eyes closed, legs slightly bent and one foot touching the ground. His arms unfolded slowly, like a crane spreading its wings.

This was the stance-training exercise of the internal martial arts from his previous life on Earth—the Crane Stance.

It wasn't meant to injure or kill an enemy, only to strengthen the body, regulate qi, and improve circulation.

Xia Dong drew his breath down to his heels and let it out as softly as silk.

Sweat struck the blue bricks and shattered into droplets.

His mind gradually sank into profound stillness.

In a daze, he seemed to become a lone crane standing beside a cold pool.

Though the waves of the turbid world surged to the heavens, I would calmly guard my own small patch of ground.

A faint crack sounded from his joints. His stagnant qi and blood flowed freely through his limbs and bones, like spring water breaking through ice.

The Crane Stance had reached perfection.

At that moment, deep in his sea of consciousness, a Bronze Ancient Bell the size of a small bell, suspended in the shadow that had long been still and undisturbed, gave a slight tremor.

Dong.

A clear, ancient bell chime drifted through the depths of Xia Dong's soul. Like the morning bell of an old monastery, it washed over his spirit.

The ancient bell trembled faintly, and an indescribably profound Dao resonance coursed through his entire body.

One Proof Eternal Proof.

Ordinary people training in martial arts were like boats rowing upstream: if they didn't train for one day, they lost ten days' worth of progress. It was exceedingly difficult to maintain the body's peak condition. Age, injuries, and slackening effort could all cause one's cultivation to decline.

But the moment the ancient bell rang, every insight he had gained from perfecting the Crane Stance, along with the ultimate pathways of his qi and blood, was engraved into Xia Dong's bones and blood as if carved by knife and chisel.

Even if he didn't practice the stance for ten years, even if he suffered grievous injuries, the moment he spread his arms, he would still possess the most perfect bearing of a white crane.

Unchanging and unwavering, constant as one.

Xia Dong slowly opened his eyes.

His limbs and bones weren't sore and weak as they usually were after training.

Instead, a gentle, enduring breath had arisen inside him, silently nourishing his internal organs.

With every breath, he truly seemed to be breathing like a white crane—light and graceful, yet steady.

He lowered his stance and glanced at an autumn leaf that had fallen into the courtyard at some point.

There was a jujube tree in the courtyard, and beside it stood a Withered Well.

It was fortunate the well was dry.

Otherwise, the Xia Dong who had lived here before might not have been able to keep this little courtyard.

In the county town, courtyards with their own wells belonged to wealthy families.

The Xia Family had acquired this courtyard through a twist of fate.

Someone had died in the Withered Well.

Perhaps the well had once held water, but stopped flowing after the death. Or perhaps it had been filled in.

In any case, it was an ill omen.

After passing the licentiate examination, Xia Dong had learned more from the neighbors about this alley.

This place had originally been a sprawling manor.

After someone died in the family's well, the property was gradually divided into many separate homes.

Some who didn't believe in bad omens had rented or bought the place, but later moved away for one reason or another.

In the end, Xia Dong's parents had bought this courtyard.

And there was something unusual about Xia Dong's parents, too.

His father had been a Daoist priest.

As for his mother...

He'd heard she came from a theatrical troupe in the capital.

After they passed away, everything had been handled by one of his father's old friends, Squire Qin from Prefecture City.

Back then, the two families had even drawn up a marriage agreement between the next generation. The intended bride was Qin Wan, Squire Qin's daughter.

Xia Dong had planned to put off dealing with this old matter for a while, but he hadn't expected the Qin Family to arrive so quickly.

Leading them was the old steward of the Qin Estate.

In the cramped reception room, the old steward didn't sit down. He merely cupped his hands in a slight bow, his manner carrying the practiced courtesy of a worldly man and an almost imperceptible scrutiny. "Scholar Xia, my master instructed me to say that the Qin Family truly apologizes for breaking off the engagement. It's just that Miss is blessed with profound fortune and has already caught the eye of the Qixia Immortal Sect. This worldly marriage can no longer be honored."

At this point, the old steward deliberately paused and lowered his voice. "The immortal master examined her. Miss possesses an extraordinary Spirit Root."

Then the old steward patiently explained the details.

To common folk, this was the stuff of wild fantasy, but to families with even a little standing, it was no great secret.

The Great You Dynasty had not only government officials, but also lofty cultivators. The territory of Linyuan Prefecture was the Qixia Immortal Sect's domain. It was a colossus before which even the prefect had to show the respect due to an elder.

The difference between immortals and mortals was like the distance between clouds and mud.

The only bridge across that chasm was the "Spirit Root."

Without a Spirit Root, one could only toil in the mortal world.

And extraordinary Spirit Roots were rare talents even within an immortal sect, with boundless prospects on the path to immortality.

"When children are young, their qi and blood aren't settled, so their Spirit Roots are difficult to detect," the old steward explained in a measured tone. "Most have to wait until they're a little older, between ten and fifteen, for the signs to manifest. Once they're past fifteen, even if they possess a Spirit Root, they've missed the best time to open their meridians, and the immortal sects generally won't take them. Our young miss will turn fifteen on the fifteenth day of the seventh month next year."

After hearing this, Xia Dong didn't erupt in fury at being humiliated, as the old steward had expected a young man to do. Nor did he weep bitterly in shame like a poor scholar.

He sat quietly in his chair, his expression as unruffled as an ancient well.

That extraordinary calm instead made the old steward's heart skip. This newly minted licentiate, the former "son-in-law," seemed far more shrewd than he'd imagined.

Xia Dong gently rubbed his fingers against the coarse porcelain teacup. After a moment's thought, he looked up and asked, "So I'm eighteen this year. Even if I had a Spirit Root, my path to immortality would already be hopeless, is that right?"

The old steward sighed inwardly and bowed. "Scholar Xia, my master instructed this old servant to tell you the truth. A few years ago, he secretly asked an immortal from the sect to examine you. You... have no Spirit Root and are destined to be unable to cultivate. My master also cautioned that you mustn't inquire further about the world of cultivation, lest you bring trouble upon yourself."

"Bring trouble upon myself?" Xia Dong caught the unspoken meaning. "What does this 'trouble' mean?"

He didn't believe Squire Qin was bluffing. The man seemed more to be warning him in veiled terms.

The old steward shook his head, his expression inscrutable. "My master didn't go into detail. He only told you not to probe further. He also said that if you still have many questions, you can come to Prefecture City for next year's autumn provincial examination and call on him in person."

"Why wait until next year? Can't I go now?"

"My master's exact words were that, at present... the timing is unsuitable."

Xia Dong nodded slightly and asked no more.

He stood up, took the yellowed marriage contract from his sleeve, and laid it flat on the table. His voice was calm. "I'll accept the compensation. Take the marriage contract back with you. If I have the chance next year, I'll visit the estate and pay my respects to Uncle Qin."

The old steward breathed a sigh of relief and quickly gathered up the marriage contract. At least he'd managed to finish this thankless errand. The young master of the Xia Family might be a licentiate, but mortals and immortals were worlds apart. Though breaking off the engagement was unfair, it was simply following the will of Heaven.

Once the Qin Family's people had left, the courtyard sank into silence again.

Xia Dong latched the reception-room door and turned to inventory the several redwood chests the Qin Family had left behind.

Inside were fifty taels of silver in neat stacks, along with several superb-quality old ginseng roots.

He really was short on money. Since crossing over, his mind had been full of countless ways to make a fortune, but before he'd passed the licentiate examination and gained the respectable veneer recognized by the authorities, he hadn't dared put them into practice.

After all, a common man was innocent, but carrying a jade treasure was a crime.

"Cultivation..."

Xia Dong held a silver ingot in his palm, feeling the cold metal against his skin. A trace of longing flickered in his eyes.

Squire Qin hadn't lied. Xia Dong truly had no Spirit Root.

The mysterious Bronze Ancient Bell in his sea of consciousness had already confirmed that.

It would be a lie to say he felt no regret. But there was no way he would accept his fate and meekly live the rest of his life as an ant.

Since he had come to this world, he had to see the scenery at its highest point.

Besides, he still had that ancient bell and his heaven-defying talent, One Proof Eternal Proof.

Even now, though, he still hadn't figured out what the codename "Gouchen" inscribed on the bell meant.

Was it some kind of inheritance? Or had his predecessor belonged to a secret organization?

"If there's no path to immortality, then I'll train in martial arts. Since immortals exist in this world, the martial path can't possibly stop at strengthening the body."

Xia Dong put the silver away carefully, pushed open the door, and returned to the courtyard.

He closed his eyes, focused his mind, and assumed his stance. The Crane Stance flowed from one movement to the next like a running stream.

Since perfecting the stance, he had not only gained far more energy than before, but also developed a faint yet genuine "qi" within his body.

This qi silently nourished his internal organs and brought about a wondrous transformation.

Xia Dong guided that wisp of qi through his meridians and into his limbs and bones. In an instant, his body seemed to shed its heavy shell and become extraordinarily light.

It wasn't an illusion. As his qi and blood surged, he even felt that a light touch of his toes would let him spread his wings and soar into the air.

He slowly opened his eyes and suppressed the agitation in his heart.

"With this money, a lot of things will be easier to arrange." Though Xia Dong had passed the licentiate examination, he hadn't passed the provincial examination, so the congratulatory gifts he'd received were limited.

With the Qin Family's compensation for breaking off the engagement, he finally had a bit more money on hand.

Actually, he held no resentment toward the Qin Family. On the contrary, in his previous life, plenty of people might have praised their actions.

In his previous life, even getting the betrothal gifts returned could be difficult, let alone receiving compensation.

So there was no "don't bully a young man just because he's poor," nor any "thirty years east of the river, thirty years west."

Xia Dong first took the money and went to a nearby apothecary to buy the finest wound salve, medicated liniment, and other such items.

There was something he needed to verify first.

Night deepened. The courtyard was utterly quiet, with only the jujube tree beside the Withered Well occasionally rustling in the autumn wind.

Xia Dong sat beneath a dim oil lamp, turning over a short kitchen knife he'd taken from the kitchen. Its blade was slightly nicked but still sharp, and he had sterilized it.

"I have to figure out exactly where the limits of One Proof Eternal Proof lie."

He murmured to himself. The world of cultivation stood high above, and mortal lives were as insignificant as blades of grass.

Before he truly set foot in that world, the Bronze Ancient Bell in his sea of consciousness was his only trump card. He couldn't afford to indulge in any unrealistic fantasies about it.

If One Proof Eternal Proof could regrow severed limbs, then he could take a far more reckless path in the future. If it couldn't, any rash move he made now could lead to utter ruin.

Xia Dong didn't hesitate. He rolled up his left sleeve, exposing his forearm.

He took a deep breath, gripped the short knife tightly, and slashed a cut about an inch long into the muscle of his left forearm.

His flesh split open, and bright red blood immediately welled out, trickling down his arm and dripping onto the blue bricks with a soft patter. A sharp sting shot through his nerves to his brain, making his breathing quicken involuntarily.

Xia Dong stared hard at the wound, his brows slightly furrowed, and waited in silence.

Ten breaths, twenty breaths, half an incense stick's time passed.

The Bronze Ancient Bell deep in his sea of consciousness remained silent. The wound was still bleeding, and there was no sign of the torn muscle healing. Apart from the flow of blood slowing slightly due to clotting, his arm didn't scab over in an instant like some legendary spirit creature's.

"So it seems creating something from nothing and regrowing severed limbs are impossible. The body still follows the material laws of this world."

Xia Dong took a clean piece of linen and calmly wrapped it tightly around the wound. The intense pain made his left hand tremble slightly, severely hampering his ability to exert force. An ordinary martial artist couldn't possibly maintain a perfect stance after suffering an external injury like this, since even one small injury could affect the whole body. Forcing oneself to train could even send one's qi and blood into disarray.

"Then what exactly does One Proof Eternal Proof do?"

Xia Dong stood up, walked to the center of the courtyard, and closed his eyes.

He endured the tearing pain in his left arm and began following his perfect memory of the Crane Stance, lowering his shoulders and elbows, slightly bending his legs, and slowly raising both arms like a white crane spreading its wings.

The moment he raised his left arm, the damaged muscles sent such sharp pain through him that his instinct was to curl up and take the strain off.

But at that very instant—

"Clang."

Deep in his sea of consciousness, that clear, ancient bell rang out once more.

Something wondrous happened.

Xia Dong felt it clearly: though his body still registered the pain, some unfathomable "law" or "instinct" took over, and his left arm didn't tremble at all. It held steady at the most precise, perfect height.

And that wasn't all.

The faint, warm "qi" that had emerged when he perfected the Crane Stance began circulating through his body. When it reached the injured meridians and muscle groups in his left arm, it neither dispersed nor met any obstruction from the physical damage.

That "qi" seemed to possess a perfect memory of its own. With an incredible degree of fine adjustment, it skirted the ruptured capillaries and muscle fibers, forming a flawless channel through the damaged area and continuing to flow smoothly throughout his body!

After completing the stance routine, Xia Dong's forehead was covered in cold sweat from the pain, yet his breathing remained long and steady, like that of an old tortoise. The qi and blood coursing through his body met not the slightest hitch.

He finished the stance and stood still. As he looked at the coarse cloth dotted with blood, an intensely bright light flashed in his eyes.

I understand now.

Xia Dong quickly sorted out three conclusions in his mind:

First, matter was conserved. The Bronze Ancient Bell couldn't conjure flesh and blood from thin air.

"One Proof Eternal Proof" couldn't directly interfere with physical damage. If his hand was cut off, it was gone; if he lost blood, that blood was lost.

Second, his realm remained absolutely constant. What the Ancient Bell locked in place was the "Dao"—his "realm."

Third, it perfectly accommodated abnormal states.

If physical depletion and injury won't cause my realm to collapse... His thoughts raced ahead. Doesn't that mean that those unorthodox methods or self-maiming forbidden arts that burn essence and overdraw potential could have no side effects for me, as long as I replenish the lost "matter" afterward?

In this world of immortal cultivators, ordinary martial arts naturally had the problem of a low ceiling. But demonic cultivation methods and forbidden arts with such a heavy price that no one dared practice them might instead become an aid to his cultivation.