Blessed Land Dao Lord: To Clench a Fist Is to Grasp Power, the Union of Power and Martial Might

The autumn night was deep, and the chill bit to the bone.

A hazy mist spread across the Yudai River.

Splash!

The oars stirred rippling waves, guiding the black-canopied boat, which had drifted slightly off course, back toward shore. The journey had been steady enough.

Yang Lie stood at the bow, working the oars. The cold wind sweeping over the river carried dampness that soaked into his clothes, and he could not help muttering, "Would be nice to have a mouthful of wine."

As a martial artist, his muscles and bones were strong enough that this little cold dampness meant nothing. But being able to endure it did not mean he was immune to heat and cold.

His gaze drifted involuntarily into the cabin, and he eyed the wine flask in Wu Duxiong's hand with considerable longing.

Hong Yuan was no exception. He was soaked through, and though he could feel the icy chill clinging to his skin, his mind grew ever more active.

He was quite concerned about Master Qin. More precisely, what had stirred his thoughts was the "Blood Pact Talisman." He turned his head slightly and watched the cabin for a moment, confirming that Master Qin was still unconscious.

He moved a little closer to Yang Lie, hesitated briefly, then asked in a low voice, "Brother Yang, what happened to that Master Qin?"

"Master Qin?" Yang Lie glanced into the cabin before lowering his voice with a sigh. "He was originally a teacher at the county private school and had known my uncle for nearly twenty years. He had one son, named Qin Ziyue..."

Master Qin and his wife had been childhood sweethearts, deeply devoted husband and wife. Unfortunately, when he was thirty, his wife was suddenly struck by a grave illness and passed away. Master Qin was heartbroken. He never remarried, pouring all his affection into his only son instead.

Over time, Qin Ziyue developed a spoiled and willful temperament. No one knew where he had made acquaintances among all manner of shady characters. Yet because Master Qin loved him too dearly, he could not bear to discipline him with a rod, merely offering verbal warnings. And as a schoolteacher, he could not keep watch over him at all times...

Then, one day, Qin Ziyue disappeared.

Master Qin inquired everywhere, reported it to the authorities, and exhausted every means, but found nothing. In the end, he turned to Yang Erhu for help.

So Yang Erhu is Yang Lie's uncle.

Hong Yuan's attention had clearly gone astray. He had initially guessed the two were father and son, or perhaps master and disciple.

Yang Erhu was a man of loyalty. Seeing his old friend weeping bitterly and begging desperately, how could he refuse?

But he was only a martial man himself, with limited connections. In the blink of an eye, nearly a month passed, and he had uncovered only a few faint traces.

He felt that if things dragged on like this, any hope of saving the boy would grow slimmer by the day. He immediately sent word to the prefectural city for aid, gathering Wu Duxiong and Yang Lie as additional help.

Together with Master Qin, the four had spent immense effort tracking down the so-called "Jade Wutong Immortal Realm." That was how Yang Lie, and even Master Qin, had risked themselves by infiltrating it as undercover agents. Yang Lie spoke eloquently of the dangers along the way, but skimmed over the crucial parts with the brushstrokes of the Spring and Autumn Annals.

"Brother Yang is truly righteous and ever ready to help those in need. I admire you deeply," Hong Yuan said with cupped hands. "Still, Brother Yang, you have suffered greatly."

"Ah, it is a long story!" Yang Lie sighed repeatedly, his youthful face carrying the weathered exhaustion of one who could not bear to look back.

Hong Yuan actually felt that Yang Lie was concealing something. Those jars of fire oil alone were not something three or four people could have prepared, much less smuggled into a heavily guarded manor. But since Yang Lie did not mention it, Hong Yuan could hardly pry.

Hong Yuan expressed some sympathy for Master Qin's tragic circumstances, then let the matter go. After all, he himself was in a miserable state. He had provoked no one and offended no one, yet had somehow been transported here.

"The Blood Pact Talisman—what exactly is it?" Bringing up Master Qin had mainly been Hong Yuan's way of steering the conversation here. The mention of talismans inevitably stirred one's imagination.

"It is merely an unusual talisman art. Once refined, it can use one's own vital blood as a guide to locate the position of a close relative..."

Seeing Hong Yuan's solemn expression, Yang Lie could not help laughing. "Brother Hong is a scholar. You have probably read too many miscellaneous tales of immortals and strange spirits. The unusual arts in this world are not as mysterious as those in books. This Blood Pact Talisman can only lock onto someone within twenty or thirty zhang."

His voice dropped even lower.

"Within twenty or thirty zhang, if they are alive, there is no need for this talisman. Only..."

Yang Lie sighed again.

Hong Yuan immediately changed the subject.

The light boat rode the wind, gliding down the waves.

During their idle conversation, Hong Yuan came to understand Yang Lie a little better. Yang Lie's father and Yang Erhu were not only blood brothers, but fellow disciples from the same school. In their youth, they had roamed the martial world. Now that they were older, one had acquired property in the prefectural city and become a wealthy man, while the other had opened a martial hall in the county to teach disciples.

As for Yang Lie's martial arts, though he had received some instruction from his father, he had not inherited the true teachings. Instead, his father had found another renowned master to train him.

Whenever this came up, Yang Lie was both puzzled and unable to hide a trace of resentment.

Before they realized it, the boat had traveled more than ten li. When faint lights appeared ahead, Yang Lie called out softly, "Uncle Wu, Uncle, we're here!"

The black-canopied boat slowly pulled ashore. Yang Lie jumped onto land first and used a hemp rope from the boat to tie it to a wooden stake by the riverbank.

Hong Yuan leaped down.

Wu Duxiong and Yang Erhu, carrying Master Qin on his back, followed them ashore. Without a word, the group moved silently through the night. The lights grew brighter, and the outline of a small town emerged ahead.

Only when they drew close could they see that the town had merely two streets, one running lengthwise and one crosswise. The houses on either side were low, almost all single-story buildings. Only the center held a two-story tavern and several shops.

The lights came from the tavern. Now and then, noisy voices drifted out, as though some idlers were still drinking and making merry at this late hour. From the surrounding houses came occasional coughs and barking dogs.

Yang Erhu and the others knew this town well. They moved with practiced ease, disturbing no one as they circled around to the tavern's back door and rapped on it with bent fingers.

Knock, knock, knock!

After a while, another few knocks sounded in a measured rhythm.

With a creak, the back door opened slightly. Under the dim lamplight stood a small, skinny old man with a wrinkled, withered face, draped in a long robe.

Hong Yuan saw clearly. The little old man raised his cloudy eyes and swept them quickly over the group, lingering for one extra breath on Hong Yuan alone before lowering his head again and coughing. "You're back!"

"We'll talk inside."

Yang Erhu nodded calmly and led everyone in. Beyond the door was a cramped, cluttered courtyard with several small rooms fit for lodging.

Yang Erhu chose one. There was little decoration inside, nearly nothing beyond a table and a bed. He laid Master Qin on the bed, tucked in the quilt, closed the door, then came out. Seeing Yang Lie and Hong Yuan soaked through, he said to the withered little old man, "Bring two sets of clean clothes."

"Alright, this old man will see to it at once." The gaunt elder nodded.

Yang Erhu waved a hand, indicating for him to wait, then said to Yang Lie and Hong Yuan, "You cannot wear those robes out again. Have the old gentleman dispose of them as well."

The gaunt elder stretched out a dry hand and felt Yang Lie's sleeve. Rubbing his fingers together, he grinned. "Fine silk. At the black market, these two robes could fetch at least twenty taels."

"Give them to him. Bring fifteen taels over tomorrow," Yang Erhu said.

"Then many thanks, many thanks!" The little old man's wrinkled face seemed to bloom like a chrysanthemum.

Listening to their conversation, Hong Yuan felt a powerful sense of disconnection. On one hand, he naturally understood the importance of silver. On the other, he had only just arrived in this world, not even a full night having passed, and felt that nothing really mattered.

The two emotions intertwined, leaving him deeply conflicted.

Yang Erhu and Wu Duxiong felt the contradiction too. They had just seen those women of the Jade Wutong Immortal Realm, pretending to be gods and ghosts, spending money like dirt. Yet now they were suddenly haggling over a few taels of silver. It felt absurd for no reason.

They had considered taking valuable items from the Jade Wutong Immortal Realm to exchange for money. But first, they feared alerting the enemy; second, they feared failing to recognize the value of the goods and selling stolen property straight back to its owner, walking into the trap themselves.

Robes and such were of no concern. They could always be taken apart for cloth and remade.

Hong Yuan and Yang Lie immediately took off their outer robes, leaving only their thin inner garments. Each chose a small room and went inside. There was an oil lamp in the room, but no flame. Fortunately, Hong Yuan could see in the dark, so he went straight to the wooden bed.

The room and even the bedding carried a faint odor, but Hong Yuan had no mind to care at the moment. Having crossed into this world, killed in a sudden burst of violence, and now finally relaxed, he felt exhausted in both body and spirit. Still wrapped in his damp thin clothes, he wanted to drift into sleep.

He forced himself to remain alert, got up, and used the small table and wooden stool in the room to brace the door shut. With a thought, rows upon rows of tiny mosquito-like words floated before him.

Hong Yuan stared fixedly at the words "Blessed Land Dao Lord." The next instant, all the tiny words spun rapidly, becoming a gray-white vortex.

Hong Yuan drew in a breath and relaxed his mind, allowing the pulling force within the vortex to drag at him. In the next instant, the scene before his eyes abruptly changed.

Whoosh!

When he opened his eyes again, Hong Yuan suddenly appeared in a vast gray-white plaza. Yet he could clearly sense that his physical body remained in the little tavern room. What had appeared here was merely a form created by his thoughts.

Hong Yuan looked around. The gray-white plaza was surrounded by circles of pale, mist-shrouded space that could not be seen through, like a heavenly abyss. Only directly ahead stood an enormous gray-white stone gate, seemingly embedded in the mist, appearing and vanishing intermittently.

Below the gray-white stone gate were nine steps, each as tall as a person. Hong Yuan walked toward the gate almost instinctively. But when he reached the first step and was about to reach out to climb it, a gentle force suddenly sent his entire body flying.

Bang!

Hong Yuan was flung far away and landed on the gray-white plaza. He was not hurt, of course. Then again, he had no idea how a body formed from thoughts could be injured.

"What is this?"

As Hong Yuan stared in surprise, the scene before him suddenly shifted.

[Blessed Land Dao Lord (Gray)—Beyond the Gate: Hong Yuan (18)]

[Physique: 2/100]

[Comprehension: 2/100]

[Talents: Qi Through All Bones, Clear Eyes Through the Nether]

The "Blessed Land Dao Lord" entry had changed, gaining the words "Beyond the Gate." Hong Yuan looked at the plaza beneath his feet, the gray-white stone gate, and the nine steps below it, and began to form some guesses.

Then the stone gate hummed and trembled several times. Suddenly, an ancient, weighty stream of thought surged into Hong Yuan's mind.

After a moment, Hong Yuan absorbed the information, his expression shaken.

This stone gate—

More precisely, the world behind the stone gate was called the [Taisui Blessed Land]!

When he had crossed into this world, somehow, he had become bound to the [Taisui Blessed Land] and became its [Blessed Land Dao Lord]. But for now, it was merely a title. To truly take control of it, he had to accomplish two achievements.

Taisui was the Taisui God, the Lord of the Year!

Within a year, it possessed the greatest authority and the strongest martial might. Thus, during that year, it was also called the Son of Heaven of the Year, the leader of all gods.

The key to those words lay in authority and martial might!

For Hong Yuan to ascend the nine tiers of steps, knock open the stone gate, and enter the [Taisui Blessed Land], he likewise had to achieve two things: his personal martial strength must reach the pinnacle, unmatched by any other, and the authority in his grasp must surpass all under heaven.

First in martial might!

First in authority!

A double crown!

Only then would he possess not merely the empty title of [Blessed Land Dao Lord], but tangible benefits. The moment he stepped into the [Taisui Blessed Land], his lifespan would become one with the blessed land. So long as the blessed land endured, his body would remain imperishable, his life as long as heaven itself.

Even in his body of thought, Hong Yuan felt his breathing stagnate, as though his heart were about to leap from this incorporeal form.

Only after a long while did Hong Yuan slowly calm down. This was an enormous pie, but taking a bite out of it would be exceedingly difficult.

First came authority. Great Yin had now abolished the imperial examinations, and commoners had almost entirely lost their path upward. If one wanted to become an official, one had no choice but to become a dog for the powerful clans, great families, and noble houses.

If those important figures were pleased by your licking, perhaps they would toss you a few bones and give you a chance to become an official.

But even if he became an official, wanting to become a powerful minister and carry out the deeds of Wang Mang was nothing but the dream of a fool.

Great Yin had reached this point because the various prefectures and provinces were in reality filled with forces that held their own territories. On the surface, they obeyed the court's decrees. In truth, withholding taxes and turning the court's regular troops into private soldiers were hardly uncommon.

There was no need to mention elsewhere. Linjiang Prefecture, where Hong Yuan was, operated in exactly this manner. Otherwise, how could a single prefecture support three prefectural armies like the White Scale Guard, totaling more than ten thousand troops?

The notion of entering court as an official, then climbing step by step, step by step, to the very top was untenable. There were simply no conditions for reforming things from within.

Even if he rose to the highest rank among ministers, if he wanted to claim first place in authority and become emperor himself, he would still have to fight across the realm and beat all the powerful nobles and warlords into submission. Was that not still rebellion?

"Martial strength. At this stage, personal martial strength is the most important thing!"

No matter how enormous the pie was, he needed to be alive to eat it. Only by constantly growing stronger could he avoid being strangled in the cradle.

Fortunately, Hong Yuan could continuously improve his physique and comprehension. Otherwise, his assessment of his chances of eating that pie would not be merely exceedingly difficult, but nearly impossible.

"Slaughter and battle, medicinal baths—both may be able to increase physique and comprehension."

"So the goal is to improve my martial strength, preserve myself, then use martial strength to seize authority. Only by gripping a fist can one grip power!"

"The union of power and martial might."

Hong Yuan thought silently. There was another issue that concerned him: did this world possess transcendent beings, and if so, just how transcendent were they?

With a thought, Hong Yuan withdrew from the gray-white plaza.

"Having initially come into contact with the gate of the blessed land, your spirit has been elevated and your state of mind transformed. Comprehension +2 wisps."

"Hmm?"

Hong Yuan's expression shifted. A cool current swirled through his mind, giving him that empty, lucid sensation once more. Looking at the [Comprehension: 4/100] entry, he sent his thoughts back into the gray-white plaza.

Several breaths later, Hong Yuan opened his eyes in the pitch-black room, rubbed his chin, and sighed inwardly. As expected, I can't repeatedly farm comprehension...