Day Cultivating Zen Martial Arts, Night Bearing the Demonic Mandate, Sword Pointed at the Plainclothes Sect

Zhu Yingxiong had already stepped out of his room when the sky had just begun to lighten.

The courtyard was quiet and still. Morning dew had yet to dry, and wisps of mist drifted leisurely beneath the eaves.

He took a deep breath of crisp air, planted himself in the courtyard, and prepared to begin the day's training.

Of the ten supreme techniques he had chosen for himself, he had, at most, only barely mastered four.

At that thought, his chest tightened—

Why did it feel like there was never enough time?

He cultivated demonic sect techniques at night and Buddhist sect techniques by day.

Even after splitting one day into two, why was he still grinding so hard?

He shook his head, casting aside his stray thoughts and settling his mind.

He first warmed up with the finger technique and leg technique he knew best.

His figure darted through the courtyard, shifting left and right as layers of leg shadows overlapped. The index finger of his right hand stabbed out repeatedly, splitting the air with faint hissing sounds.

A moment later, he came to a stop and drew the treasured sword the beauty had left him from his waist.

Dharma Swordplay.

His sword moves flowed without end. Sword light gleamed like a ribbon, carving cold arcs through the morning light.

He performed all one hundred and eight forms in a single breath, then withdrew his sword stance and slowly regulated his breathing for a while.

After one complete set of swordplay, he felt the blood and qi throughout his body fully stimulated. True qi coursed through his meridians, faintly carrying the force of a rushing torrent.

Next came the Prajna Zen Palm.

He had only used this palm technique once, hastily, when facing Tan Yingshou. At the time, he had merely slapped out in desperation, and it had not even counted as scratching the surface. Now, he needed to calm down and study it carefully.

The essential meanings analyzed by the cheat flowed through his mind one by one.

Prajna Zen Palm: silent yet mighty. The palm strikes without sound, yet contains wind and thunder. It balances hardness and softness, growing stronger with practice, with no end to its advancement.

Zhu Yingxiong practiced according to the diagrams of its essential meanings. On his first run-through, his palm force whipped up gusts of wind, appearing quite formidable. Yet that was merely force spilling outward; he had not truly entered the gate.

By the second run-through, his palm force had gradually condensed. The escaping gusts lessened somewhat, and his palm movements became far steadier. This could be considered a preliminary entry.

He did not stop. Instead, he combined the key pointers from the essential meanings and pondered and practiced the technique over and over.

A third time, a fourth time, a fifth time...

Gradually, he entered a state of complete self-forgetfulness. His heart was free of distractions, his mind empty of stray thoughts. There were only palms rising, falling, opening, and closing.

He did not know which repetition he had reached when, suddenly, the wind around his palms vanished.

He pushed out a palm strike without the slightest sound, as though casually waving his hand, carrying not a trace of force. Yet in the direction his palm faced, an imposing aura, dense and weighty as a mountain, quietly spread.

Delight rose in his heart. This was "silent yet mighty"—force hidden within, like iron wrapped in cotton!

Only at this point could he be said to have truly grasped its essence and understood its real meaning.

He withdrew his stance and stopped, quietly savoring the feeling of that palm strike.

The lingering aftertaste of true qi gathering within the acupoints still remained in his palm.

With his eyes closed, he carefully replayed every detail of that strike.

Not only the palm technique's movements, but also the routes of true qi circulation and the points where it gathered...

A moment later, he opened his eyes, looking thoughtful.

The route of true qi through the meridians in the Prajna Zen Palm was quite different from that of One-Finger Zen.

Both used the Hand Shaoyang Triple Burner Meridian, but One-Finger Zen focused on the Shangyang Acupoint of the index finger. True qi began at the Guanchong Acupoint, passed through the Yangchi Acupoint and Zhigou Acupoint, then shot straight out through the Shangyang Acupoint.

It followed a straight line, sharp as an arrow. Thus, its finger force possessed extraordinarily strong penetration, specifically meant to break through protective true qi.

The Prajna Palm was different. Its true qi likewise followed the meridian upward, passing through the Yangchi Acupoint, Zhigou Acupoint, Sidu Acupoint... but it spiraled and circulated repeatedly among many acupoints along the way. Only after passing through the Tianyou Acupoint and reaching the Yifeng Acupoint did it finally gather in the Laogong Acupoint of the palm.

It followed a winding, twisting path. True qi was repeatedly tempered between the acupoints, making its force increasingly dense and enduring. Thus, the palm could strike without sound while concealing tremendous might.

He suddenly understood a little.

As the number of supreme techniques he cultivated increased, his understanding of the relationship between "meridians and acupoints" and "true qi circulation" grew deeper and deeper.

The same meridians, but different acupoints of emphasis and different routes of true qi circulation, could produce utterly different martial arts. The difference of one acupoint or the deviation of a fraction could mean the distance between heaven and earth. All countless transformations stemmed from this.

This was why Shaolin elders often said that one must not cultivate too many supreme techniques at once.

Every supreme technique had its own unique method of circulating qi. The more one cultivated, the more complicated the paths of true qi became, and the greater the risk of mutual interference and conflict.

With the slightest carelessness, one might suffer qi deviation; in severe cases, one's meridians could be completely ruined.

Naturally, this principle was not limited to Shaolin martial arts. All martial arts under heaven were the same.

As for why he dared to cultivate so many techniques without restraint, even practicing demonic sect techniques alongside them, it was naturally not only because he relied on the cheat, but also because of the Muscle-Tendon Transformation Scripture.

This scripture was hailed as "the source of Shaolin's myriad arts." Its fundamental mystery lay in tempering the body's meridians and opening all manner of acupoints.

If the meridians were strong and resilient, they could withstand the impact of more true qi. If the acupoints flowed freely, they could adapt to different qi-circulation paths. In this way, the risks of cultivating multiple supreme techniques would be greatly reduced.

And now that he thought of it, the seemingly unremarkable support technique, the Miscellaneous Agama Skill, appeared even more precious.

It could harmonize the conflicts between different supreme techniques, organize the circulation of true qi, and allow the various qi-circulation methods to each remain in their proper place within the meridians, each following its own course without interfering with the others.

By this reckoning, the value of the Miscellaneous Agama Skill was far greater than he had originally imagined.

Today, he would first master this technique.

He settled his mind and analyzed the Miscellaneous Agama Skill. After carefully pondering its key principles, he began attempting to cultivate it.

This technique involved neither killing nor combat, neither offense nor defense. It followed a path of gentle nourishment and harmonization.

True qi flowed smoothly as water, slowly coursing through the meridians.

Ordinarily, it did not reveal itself. It was like a mild little stream, incapable of stirring even the faintest ripple.

Yet once he began cultivating or using supreme techniques, the mysteries hidden beneath that calmness quietly surfaced.

Several streams of true qi surged through his meridians at once. They should have collided and interfered with one another.

But under the nourishment of this tranquil true qi, the stagnation and clashes caused by cultivating different supreme techniques were guided apart one by one.

It was inconspicuous in ordinary times, but only when used did its wonder become apparent.

Delight rose in his heart, and he immersed himself in the practice even more deeply.

Other than eating, he spent the entire day cultivating in the courtyard without knowing fatigue.

When dusk closed in on all sides and the evening bell rang, he withdrew his stance and stood straight, exhaling a long breath of stale air.

Now, with One-Finger Zen, Shadow-Following Leg, Dharma Swordplay, Prajna Zen Palm, and the Miscellaneous Agama Skill he had mastered today, he had cultivated six of the ten supreme techniques.

When night had deepened, he changed his clothes and quietly slipped out of Anguo Temple.

The manor remained still and silent. Deng Yin had long been waiting by the side gate. Seeing him arrive, he merely bowed slightly without saying much.

Zhu Yingxiong crossed courtyard after courtyard and entered that secret chamber once more.

The candlelight was as dim as a bean, illuminating rows upon rows of bookshelves. He took a deep breath, approached them, and searched for demonic sect fragments in both pain and delight.

Among the many incomplete manuals, he found the incomplete Deathless Seal Technique, Heavenly Heart Chain, Ziwu True Astral Force, and Ren-Bing Swordplay.

One after another, they were all demonic sect supreme arts lost for ages.

He did not greedily seek too much at once. Instead, he first immersed his mind in the still-incomplete Illusory Demon Movement Technique.

The cheat activated. Within his sea of consciousness, the essential meanings of the newly recorded fragments corroborated and supplemented the Illusory Demon Movement Technique.

Routes of qi circulation took shape in his mind one after another. Variations of movement techniques slowly unfolded. The once-vague key points gradually became clear.

Time passed in silence.

He did not know how long had gone by when the Illusory Demon Movement Technique in his field of vision had been deduced to ninety percent completion.

He took a deep breath and was just about to continue recording and deducing—

Knock, knock, knock.

The door to the secret chamber was lightly tapped.

He frowned slightly and looked up.

Deng Yin's voice came through the door, low and subdued.

"Young Master, this old servant requests an audience."

The incomplete manual in Zhu Yingxiong's hand paused.

He looked at the mountain of fragmented manuals, then at the stalled progress of the deduction in his sea of consciousness. Though reluctant, he knew Deng Yin must have come for an important matter.

He set down the incomplete manual, rose, and opened the door.

Outside, Deng Yin stood with his hands lowered at his sides.

"Elder Deng, what is it?"

Deng Yin raised his eyes slightly and looked at him before slowly speaking.

"Now that the Young Master has been newly appointed, by custom, the elders and disciples of the sect should have been summoned to pay their respects."

He paused, his tone growing more solemn.

"But after considering it again and again, the Sect Master believes that the Young Master has only just arrived and has yet to establish any achievements. If everyone is summoned with great fanfare now, I fear... there will inevitably be those who remain unconvinced."

Seeing Zhu Yingxiong's calm expression, Deng Yin nodded inwardly and continued.

"There is currently a matter that requires the Young Master to share the sect's burdens. It may also be used to establish merit."

Zhu Yingxiong understood. This was still a test, and one meant for the people in the sect to see.

Whether the newly appointed Young Master was worthy of their submission would have to be proven with something tangible.

"What matter is it?" Zhu Yingxiong asked.

"The Yingui Sect has lurked in the martial world for a long time, living in the shadows these past years with little reputation to speak of." Deng Yin lowered his voice even further. "Now, the Sect Master intends to revitalize the Sacred Gate and establish Luoyang as the main base of our Sacred Gate."

As he spoke, his gaze fell upon Zhu Yingxiong's face, his tone becoming increasingly grave.

"However, three major forces are still entrenched within Luoyang City. Their roots run deep and their interests are tangled. The Sect Master hopes... that the Young Master can share the Sacred Gate's burdens."

Zhu Yingxiong understood inwardly.

This was the true purpose of tonight.

He did not answer at once. After a brief pause, he asked, "Does Elder Deng have detailed information on these three major forces?"

At his words, a trace of barely perceptible approval flashed through Deng Yin's eyes. He drew a stack of papers from his sleeve and presented them with both hands. "They have been prepared for the Young Master."

So they had been prepared for this all along.

Zhu Yingxiong accepted the documents and read through them page by page in the dim candlelight of the secret chamber. The pages densely recorded the origins, backgrounds, personal connections, spheres of influence, and every other detail regarding the three major forces. Everything was organized clearly and comprehensively.

A moment later, his hand stopped turning the pages. He pulled out one sheet and handed it to Deng Yin.

Deng Yin accepted it and lowered his head to look.

At the top of that page were three neatly written characters—

"Plainclothes Sect."

Zhu Yingxiong's voice was calm and even.

"Let's begin with this one."