Great Medicine

"Uncle, I've practiced the Jade Sword True Canon for half a year. Why is my Sword Qi still unable to kill enemies?"

In a dilapidated little courtyard, a boy of fifteen or sixteen sought guidance from a burly-looking man.

The man raised his thick brows and said, "Didn't I tell you that you cultivated your first breath of True Qi after just three days of breathing exercises, then formed your first strand of Sword Qi three days later? That makes you a once-in-ten-thousand swordsmanship prodigy."

The boy replied, "Yes, Uncle. You did say that half a year ago."

Having lived in poverty since childhood and often suffered humiliation, he had not even dared confess to the childhood sweetheart he loved. In the end, he could only watch helplessly as she married someone else. He desperately hoped this sword art would change his life.

"Then show me a finger sword thrust," said the burly-looking man.

"Alright."

The boy lowered his left arm, extended his index finger, and thrust it forward like a divine sword leaving its sheath.

A streak of white Sword Qi immediately shot from his fingertip, its momentum astonishing.

Faced with the incoming white Sword Qi, the burly man paid it no heed at all. He stood there without moving.

There was a soft smack.

The Sword Qi struck his clothes, leaving only a tiny dent that vanished in an instant.

The boy revealed a dejected expression. "It's been half a year. This Sword Qi can only knock off a little dust."

The man burst into laughter. "That's because the Jade Sword True Qi in your body is too insubstantial. To cultivate genuine Jade Sword True Qi, you must turn deficiency into solidity."

The boy looked at him eagerly. "Uncle, how do I turn deficiency into solidity?"

"You need medicine."

"What medicine?"

"Great Medicine."

"What kind of Great Medicine?"

The boy looked at the big man's thick-browed, large-eyed face, his eyes full of hope.

"This kind of Great Medicine."

As he spoke, the man extended his left index finger like the boy had and thrust it forward.

A gleam of white Sword Qi shot from his fingertip and struck the boy's belly with a bang.

The boy lowered his head and saw the flesh of his abdomen split open, blood pouring out.

Confusion filled his eyes. "Uncle, what are you...?"

The man said with a serious expression, "You are my Great Medicine."

The man thrust out another finger. This time, the Sword Qi entered through the wound it had just made and pierced straight through the boy's abdomen.

The boy clutched his wound and fell to his knees. He looked up, his eyes filled with confusion and terror.

The previously bold and straightforward uncle was still smiling heartily, no different from the great heroes in idle tales.

How he wished this were only a nightmare.

He had yet to master the sword, had yet to kill those who had humiliated him, had yet to kill A-Mei's husband and his entire Household, then snatch A-Mei back and violate—

At that moment, another uncle with the exact same appearance walked over.

That uncle took out a huge pot and began boiling water.

"Don't waste this Great Medicine."

With a thud, the sword-practicing boy was tossed into the boiling pot. He struggled and tried to scream, but no sound came from his throat.

The two identical burly men scattered colorful herbs into the pot.

The flames lit up their faces, making them look broad and brawny, incomparably bold.

At dusk, Duan Yun curled up on his bed, his expression exhausted and pained.

That afternoon, after returning from a house call, he had stopped to buy some vegetables. Then someone suddenly kicked him flying.

Also kicked flying were the middle-aged woman selling him vegetables and a firewood-cutter uncle standing nearby.

The person who kicked them told them to get lost and stop blocking the road because their gang leader would be passing through.

Thus, Duan Yun could only grit his teeth and crawl to his feet. The woman, however, could not get up for a while and received another kick.

Treating people like cuju balls and kicking them around just because a gang leader was passing by—anyone who did not know better would think the emperor was coming through.

It sounded absurd, yet it had truly happened.

In this place, where county magistrates were frequently murdered by bandits and every sort of ugliness was on display, the leader of a local gang in which everyone practiced martial arts truly existed like a petty emperor.

Duan Yun was not one to hold grudges. He only knew that the man who had kicked him belonged to the Black Bear Gang.

Everyone in the Black Bear Gang practiced martial arts. Its accomplished elites had palms as broad and thick as bear paws, capable of killing a person with a single slap.

Likewise, these people were often especially irritable and unreasonable, like children unable to control their tempers. The man casually kicking people today was the best proof.

It was said this was a side effect of practicing the Black Bear Palm.

Duan Yun did not want to concern himself with any of that. He only knew that he felt awful.

That man's kick had been heavy, so heavy that it felt as though a ball of fire were burning inside his belly, searing him with pain.

At the same time, Duan Yun's pride burned as well.

It had been ten days since he transmigrated here. Before transmigrating, he had been an office drone who worked himself to the bone and was often manipulated by others. Afterward, though his parents had died, he inherited his father's profession and barely became a doctor.

Though he was only the lowest-ranked and least needed, least respected kind of doctor here—a gynecologist—he was still a doctor.

Duan Yun had thought he would receive some respect, but instead—

After lying down for about an hour, night had fully fallen. Duan Yun struggled into a sitting position.

The pain had eased considerably, but the man's gaze, as though looking at an ant, and that cuju-kicking footwork kept replaying in his mind.

Though Duan Yun was exhausted and injured, he did not want to sleep.

He could not sleep!

He still had to practice martial arts!

He had finally understood. In this world of fighting, killing, and every kind of ugliness, medical ethics and being a gynecologist were useless. Only martial arts offered a way forward.

Otherwise, he could only be casually slapped to death or kicked to death, without the slightest dignity.

Duan Yun fumbled beneath his pillow and pulled out a booklet. Four words were written on its cover—"Jade Sword True Canon."

He had bought this martial arts manual from an old man yesterday.

The old man had said Duan Yun possessed extraordinary bones, was suited to cultivation, and had a fated connection with him, then asked for one tael of silver.

Duan Yun had countered with one mace of silver, and the old man had actually agreed.

He had been so eager to sell it at a ninety-percent discount that it did not look like quality goods.

But sometimes, all a person lacked was a little hope.

So he had taken out the one mace of silver he had earned after several days of house calls and bought himself that hope.

Before, Duan Yun had wanted to scrape by as a doctor while practicing martial arts on the side, hoping to change his life as if he had won the lottery.

But today's experience had completely changed his mind.

He now regarded martial arts as far more important.

Filled with complicated yet intense emotions, Duan Yun opened the Jade Sword True Canon, which he had not had time to practice before.

The Jade Sword True Canon had four forms in total. The first was the "Jade Sword Stance," which used stance training as its foundation to regulate one's breathing and circulate qi, thereby cultivating a breath of Jade Sword True Qi.

This was the beginning of the Jade Sword True Canon. Without Jade Sword True Qi, there was no hope of mastering the latter three sword techniques.

But this very first form stumped Duan Yun.

The stance itself was not difficult, similar to holding a horse stance, but the meridian diagram was another matter.

It was not that he did not recognize meridians and acupoints. As a gynecologist, he possessed that much knowledge. The problem was that half the page containing the meridian diagram had been stained with grease, making it a blurry mess. He could not tell which meridian was which at all.

He could only blame himself for rushing off on a house call and failing to inspect the goods properly. Did this not also prove the saying, "You get what you pay for"?

Damn it!

Duan Yun's dream of becoming a peerless Sword God had collapsed on the very first page, leaving him deeply frustrated.

Still unwilling to give up, he lit an oil lamp and tried to let its light shine through the grease stains.

Squinting through the blur, Duan Yun seemed to make out several acupoints.

"Dazhui, Yangxi, Xiabai, Shousanli..."

Duan Yun did not know whether they were correct.

If this manual, which contained all his hopes for life, became waste paper without him even trying it, he found that hard to accept.

Duan Yun decided to give it a try!

He had nearly been kicked to death. Why the hell was he still hesitating?

Following the manual's description, Duan Yun assumed the stance and began breathing in a pattern of nine shallow breaths and one deep breath.

At the same time, he visualized the breath he inhaled entering the meridians within his body, passing through acupoints such as Dazhui and Yangxi.

His initial breathing exercises did not go smoothly, because his mind was not entirely clear and he kept thinking about other matters.

But gradually, he entered a meditative state.

For a time, Duan Yun felt that the entire world had become quiet. After passing through his meridians, the breath he inhaled gradually sank into his dantian and vanished.

He stood there in his stance, breathing continuously, unaware of time passing.

After an unknown period of time, ripples suddenly appeared within his tranquil dantian, as though a swimming fish had broken the stillness of the water's surface.

The ripples spread, and a breath of qi leaped up from his dantian into his meridians.

Duan Yun could tell that this qi was completely different from the air he had previously inhaled and exhaled.

He had succeeded!