2 I Learned From My Short Life...

After studying the Formless Secret Treasury for several years, He Ping gradually noticed something strange: his physical constitution was deteriorating.

In truth, the techniques within the Formless Secret Treasury possessed inherent flaws, and practitioners were warned against impatience and rash advancement.

Because the methods of the Puppet Immortal Cult required the expenditure of one's own vital essence and blood energy to craft or command puppets, combined with the insidious nature of the techniques practiced, he had sacrificed a significant portion of his lifespan during his training.

On the other hand, for the past few years, he had been unable to dream of Wu Yousheng, nor could he seek help from this "Shadow Master."

Moreover, having reached this point, He Ping realized that the techniques passed down through the Formless Secret Treasury contained severe, systemic defects.

Regrettably, he realized this only when it was already too late.

His body was so depleted that he had only a few years of life remaining.

He Ping was naturally unwilling to accept this; he sought many remedies, such as searching for eccentric experts and fellow practitioners, yet he remained empty-handed.

He also secretly consulted many renowned physicians, but their conclusions were all grim.

One physician told him that he suffered from "Blood Wither," as if there were a funnel inside his body draining away his vital essence and blood energy; no matter what miraculous medicine or technique was used, this terminal condition could not be cured.

Later, He Ping secretly entrusted others to inquire about the "Immortal Puppet Sect," only to be shocked to discover that it was a clandestine sect that had vanished nearly a century ago—an evil cult strictly prohibited by the imperial government, rumored to have been wiped out by the army.

Upon learning this, He Ping dared not let a single word slip about his own situation, fearing the repercussions from the authorities.

Even if the He Family held some power in Suian City, they could not be compared to the government of the Great You Dynasty; if word leaked out and he were captured as a cultist, it would be a troublesome affair.

Wu Yousheng might be a descendant of the Immortal Puppet Sect. It is truly strange—if he possessed such abilities, why would he have fallen to such a state?

He Ping felt immense confusion regarding Wu Yousheng's later fate, while simultaneously feeling lost and uneasy about his own future.

Could it be that I have no choice but to select the forbidden technique in the final chapter of the Formless Secret Treasury? If I want to survive, must I use puppet arts to reconstruct myself, replacing all my flesh and blood to become a living puppet?

He flipped the Formless Secret Treasury to the final page, where an extraordinary secret technique was recorded. Through this technique, labeled as "forbidden," one could transform into an ageless, immortal living puppet.

A living puppet is a puppet transformed from a human; it requires the use of sorcery to replace flesh and blood with puppet limbs, even replacing the internal organs and viscera. This has its advantages: first, because the core is a puppet, it is equivalent to eternal life;

Second, no matter what injuries are sustained later, as long as the damaged part is replaced, there is no lasting impact.

"If this technique succeeds, I will no longer be human, but an inhuman existence. Once I become a living puppet, I will never again be able to enjoy the pleasures of the mortal world." He Ping sighed in his heart.

Yet, he knew he had few choices; this forbidden method might be his final path.

"If I must cease to be human, then so be it!"

He secretly steeled his resolve.

"After all, I have learned from my brief life that human ability has its limits... unless one transcends humanity."

—Indeed, that is a profound truth!

However, one must be fully prepared to cultivate a forbidden technique.

The methods used by the Immortal Puppet Sect to refine puppets are particularly demanding in terms of time, wealth, and resources.

Over the past two years, he had spent considerable manpower and resources to procure the Millennium Camphor Wood, which could only be found in the Southern Border, and crafted this "Nine-Death Substitute Witch Puppet" specifically to prepare for this endeavor.

"But before that, there is one thing I must clarify."

He Ping recalled the old man named "Wu Yousheng" who had taught him the Formless Secret Treasury. Now, reflecting on the events of that year, doubts stirred in the depths of his heart.

"My contact with Wu Yousheng back then, that incident at the Mountain God Temple—could it be that there were hidden secrets?"

He felt it necessary to visit that Mountain God Temple once more to unravel the mysteries hidden within that affair.

"Dig! Keep digging, put your backs into it!!"

The He Family steward, He Fusheng, shouted sternly.

"Did you all skip your meals? Use your hands and feet!"

Night had fallen, starless and moonless. In a desolate graveyard not far from the Mountain God Temple, guards hired by the He Family, dressed in black, held torches aloft and surrounded the area.

Dozens of He Family servants in plain, short-sleeved tunics were wielding hoes, laboring to dig a large pit in front of a grave.

He Ping sat before a temporarily erected bamboo shed nearby. His complexion was sickly, and he was draped in a pure white fox-fur cloak. He held a cup of ginseng tea in his hands, his expression tinged with indifference.

After a while, the steward He Fusheng ran over, holding a lantern in excitement.

"Young Master, the coffin has been unearthed. Shall we lift it out, or would you like to see it yourself?"

Upon hearing He Fusheng's words, He Ping's eyes brightened.

"I will see it myself."

"Very well, Young Master, please watch your step." Steward He Fusheng raised the lantern and led him to the deep pit that had been excavated.

He Ping approached the solitary grave. A deep pit had been dug in front of it, and as he stood at the edge, he saw a thin coffin three inches thick.

This thin coffin was made of cypress wood—the cheap, preferred choice for the poor—colloquially known as a "Dog-Bumper," meaning that if it encountered a wild dog scavenging in a mass grave, a few head-butts would be enough to smash through it.

"Open it."

He stood outside the pit and gave the order, and several servants pried open the lid. The moment the lid was lifted, a moldy, putrid stench wafted into the air, and everyone instinctively recoiled.

It was then that He Ping jumped down. He held a lantern in one hand and covered his nose and mouth with a cloth soaked in medicinal liquid with the other, drawing closer.

Unexpectedly, inside the coffin, there was no skeleton, but the corpse of an old man with white hair and tattered clothes.

"...Wu Yousheng."

He Ping stared fixedly at the incorruptible corpse, his eyes dark and profound.

He loosened the cloth covering his nose and mouth, extended his right hand, and began to grope the old man's body. Pressing down on the chest, he found the skin soft and the bones sturdy, as if the man had only just died.

"So that's how it is."

He grabbed one of the hands and snapped it hard at the joint. With a crisp crack, the arm broke off.

He Ping raised his lantern, picked up the severed hand, and peered at the fracture, unable to help but let out a dry laugh.

"Human bones forged from Soro Ghost Wood, and the muscles and skin made from Glue Skin and tree resin. Oh, Wu Yousheng, Wu Yousheng, you truly deceived me so thoroughly..."

He knew clearly now that the fortuitous encounter ten years ago, along with the so-called "Yin Master Dharma Transmission," had all been a meticulously crafted ruse.

The old man who had frozen to death in the Mountain God Temple was nothing more than a fabricated corpse. In truth, he should have realized long ago that if that Wu Yousheng had really been a master of the strange and extraordinary arts from the Formless Secret Treasury, he would never have fallen into such a wretched state.

"This might be a trap; I was being played from the very beginning."

The more He Ping thought about it, the colder he felt, and the more his heart trembled.

"My health has been deteriorating day by day—could that also have been part of the design? Was their ultimate goal to force me to cultivate the final forbidden chapter, hoping I would refine myself into a living puppet?"

Suddenly, a flash of inspiration struck his mind, and his heart sank abruptly.

After investigating through various means, He Ping discovered that the Immortal Puppet Sect was a faction labeled as a heretical cult by the Great You imperial court, known for their skill in crafting all manner of bizarre puppets.

For reasons unknown, this heretical sect had offended the authorities and was subsequently wiped out by the Great You army.

"The imperial court—the government of this world is not simple either. Logically speaking, the legacy of the Immortal Puppet Sect was not weak. How did the Great You court manage to exterminate them?"

He Ping also discovered that the common people of this world had very shallow knowledge of supernatural intelligence. The authorities seemed to be secretly controlling and monitoring information, strictly forbidding ordinary people from probing into such matters. As for their management methods, they started from the most basic level: books.

The Great You government monopolized papermaking and printing technology, regulating and controlling all types of books circulating among the populace. The vast majority of historical records and documents involving previous dynasties had been confiscated.

Against this backdrop, private possession of books by ordinary citizens was a crime. The government explicitly banned the private carving and printing of books; all texts concerning divination, prophecy, fortune-telling, and technical arts were classified as forbidden books and were not allowed to circulate. Because of these bans, the court had even initiated several great purges, arresting many people and severing many heads.

As a transmigrator, He Ping possessed a unique perspective, and combined with his keen mind, he sensed something abnormal. His intuition told him that the government seemed to be intentionally implementing a policy of benighting the people, all to prevent the flow of knowledge.