You attained a rank? Are you pulling my leg?

Xu Qingxiao was rather surprised.

He had never expected to attain a rank overnight.

The tenth rank of the Confucian Dao.

The tenth rank was called [Qi-Nurturing].

It meant nurturing Righteous Haoran Qi.

With righteous qi in the heart, the brush moved as though guided by a god.

Among those sixteen books, one specifically explained the Qi-Nourishing Realm, so Xu Qingxiao understood its importance.

Confucian scholars nurtured qi. With righteous qi in their hearts, they could manifest their literary backbone, and their brushwork would carry righteous qi as well.

Ordinary people could sense nothing from this righteous qi, but the deeper a person's cultivation, the more clearly they could perceive its extraordinary nature.

For demons in particular, Righteous Haoran Qi was the most intensely yang qi between heaven and earth, even more so than the power of lightning.

Thus, when Zhou Ling had said yesterday that evil spirits dared not approach within thirty feet of him, he had not been entirely boasting.

Thirty feet might have been a little exaggerated, but ten feet should have been possible.

And that was with Zhou Ling still having yet to attain a rank.

He had spent decades poring over the Sages' Books while teaching and educating others, yet he still had not attained a rank. That alone showed how difficult it was to enter the ranks of the Confucian Dao.

Yet Xu Qingxiao had attained a rank after reading only sixteen books?

That... was a little absurd.

"Could it be that I should have followed the Confucian Dao all along, and the Martial Dao only held me back?"

Curiosity stirred within Xu Qingxiao.

He had cultivated the Martial Dao for decades without attaining a rank, only managing it with the help of an unorthodox art.

Yet when cultivating the Confucian Dao, he had not even considered attaining a rank, and then he had done so overnight.

The gap between the two was rather enormous.

How could Xu Qingxiao not wonder whether he had taken the wrong path?

But soon, Xu Qingxiao shook his head and murmured to himself.

"Perhaps it has something to do with the Literary Palace."

It was not that Xu Qingxiao lacked confidence in himself. Mainly, he had never possessed any particular talents growing up, nor had he displayed any special strengths. Thinking too highly of himself would do him no good.

Besides, the Heaven and Earth Literary Palace was itself connected to Confucianism, so linking the two was perfectly reasonable.

"Either way, the Confucian Dao should suit me, but I can't neglect the Martial Dao."

"It's just a shame this isn't a world ruled by the Confucian Dao. Otherwise, making it my main pursuit wouldn't be out of the question."

Xu Qingxiao soon made up his mind.

Since he had a talent for the Confucian Dao, he would study it properly, but the Martial Dao would remain his priority.

After all, this was not a world ruled by the Confucian Dao. He could not conjure manifestations to attack others by reciting a poem, nor could he secure a nation with a single essay.

But the Confucian Dao had its advantages too. Cultivating one's character and prolonging one's life were only the basics. Powerful Confucian scholars bore the fortune of heaven and earth, restrained evil spirits, suppressed demons, and could even impeach anyone.

In other words, he could berate anyone he disliked, and they could do nothing to him.

After all, they bore the fortune of heaven and earth, while even the emperor was merely the Son of Heaven. Daring to kill a Confucian scholar would cause the nation's fortune to decline.

That was no joke.

It was fairly good in every respect, especially for navigating the imperial court.

But the prerequisite was becoming a great Confucian scholar, possessing prestige and renown, and receiving heaven and earth's recognition. Otherwise, if an ordinary scholar actually dared point at the emperor's nose and give him a vicious tongue-lashing, he would be exiled the next day for stepping into court with his left foot first.

Naturally, Xu Qingxiao would not indulge in such grand daydreams, nor did he expect to become a great Confucian scholar someday.

Ultimately, he had embarked on the Confucian Dao in hopes of suppressing the sinister demonic seed within his body.

"I still need to visit Master Zhou today."

After pondering for a while, Xu Qingxiao decided to visit Zhou Ling again that day.

After all, Zhou Ling was the only Confucian scholar in all of Ping'an County.

Xu Qingxiao knew he should avoid asking others for help whenever possible and think things through himself, lest he invite trouble.

But there were many things he neither knew nor understood, and these were unusual times. Xu Qingxiao did not dare leave Ping'an County lightly. If leaving confirmed suspicions that he had fled out of guilt, wouldn't he be cursed with the worst possible luck?

Thus, Xu Qingxiao still planned to visit Zhou Ling. Troublesome as it might be, it was better than sitting around waiting to die.

But when he glanced at the sky, it was still early. It would not be proper to disturb him now.

And so, Xu Qingxiao began cultivating in earnest.

Although he had entered the tenth rank of the Martial Dao a few days earlier, he had never had time to truly begin cultivating.

Now that the county office had given him a month-long leave, he had nothing to do and could cultivate in peace.

He stepped out of his room and basked in the golden sunlight.

First, Xu Qingxiao practiced a set of fist techniques.

The fist technique had no name. It had been passed down through the county office to strengthen the body, provide combat and self-defense skills, and set one's blood qi surging.

For martial artists, cultivation primarily meant cultivating the physical body.

Blood qi was the key.

The Martial Dao had ten ranks, and supposedly, one's blood qi grew more terrifying the further one advanced. After the seventh rank, it was said to undergo a qualitative transformation, with every drop of blood becoming like a miraculous elixir capable of prolonging an ordinary person's life.

But that was only what people said. As for the seventh rank, it was far too distant for Xu Qingxiao.

Without an unorthodox art, even reaching the tenth rank might have taken another dozen years or more.

Now, he had attained a rank.

Practicing this nameless fist technique produced different results for Xu Qingxiao as well.

From his memories, practicing it in the past had merely made his movements look somewhat fierce.

Now, however, his fists stirred gust after gust of wind, and every movement appeared overwhelmingly fierce and forceful.

After several rounds, Xu Qingxiao felt heat coursing through his body, his blood qi churning.

He immediately sat cross-legged and began cultivating the Pure Yang Art.

The fist technique had no name.

But the Pure Yang Art was a cultivation method bestowed by the imperial court. It had a proper name and an impressive pedigree.

It was one of the finest Martial Dao cultivation methods in the world.

Of course, that referred to the original version. The Pure Yang Art available to constables had naturally been stripped down into a basic version. Once they earned merit and gained promotion, they would receive a new cultivation method.

It had some effect, but it was not a major problem. After all, that was how things were for those of humble origins. They inevitably had to suffer some disadvantages, but they could still bring benefits to their descendants.

Xu Qingxiao began cultivating the Pure Yang Art.

He basked in the golden sunlight.

The blood qi within him churned, strands of it circulating through his body and nourishing his flesh. Once his physical body reached perfection, he could transform blood into qi and open his qi veins.

To enter the ninth rank, the Meridian Condensation Realm.

He needed to direct blood qi against his qi veins, and the blood qi would disappear as it struck them. Put simply, he would convert blood qi into nourishment, first moistening the qi veins, then opening them in one concentrated push.

Thus, this process was called "Qi Transformation and Meridian Nourishment."

Even a single qi vein required a hundred strands of blood qi to nourish it.

By cultivating the Golden Crow Body Tempering Art, Xu Qingxiao had already nurtured ten strands of blood qi.

He was still ninety strands short.

Yet after four full hours, he had failed to condense even a wisp of blood qi, let alone an entire strand.

The simplest way to condense it quickly was to consume blood-replenishing medicinal herbs or the meat of certain demonic beasts.

But such things were extremely expensive. Xu Qingxiao had no money, and even if he did, he might not bear to buy them.

After all, these things did not provide instant advancement. They still required sustained consumption over time.

He might as well buy a large residence and wait for its value to rise.

As the old saying went, buying a home early beat ten years of study.

Still, the one advantage was that Martial Dao cultivation had no real restrictions. If he wished, he could sit there practicing all day.

It was simply that the effects would diminish the longer he practiced.

"By comparison, cultivating an unorthodox art once would probably condense dozens of strands of blood qi. No wonder people dare risk practicing them."

After making the comparison in his mind, Xu Qingxiao understood the advantages of unorthodox arts even more clearly.

With normal cultivation, even ten years might not bring him to the ninth rank.

Yet a single session with an unorthodox art could spare him years of arduous cultivation. Who would not be tempted?

But those thoughts merely flashed through his mind, and Xu Qingxiao stopped dwelling on them.

Seeing that it was getting late.

Xu Qingxiao rose, returned to his room to tidy up, packed the books, and left.

He headed toward Zhou Ling's home.

Along the way, Xu Qingxiao bought a few things as well. Having disturbed them repeatedly, he ought to bring something as a gesture of appreciation.

It was half past seven in the evening.

Xu Qingxiao arrived outside Zhou Ling's home.

The sky had already darkened.

Lamplight shone inside, and the front gate was tightly shut.

When Xu Qingxiao knocked, the voice of Zhou Ling's wife, Wu, soon rang out.

"Who is it?"

"It's me, Qingxiao."

Xu Qingxiao called out. Footsteps immediately approached, and the courtyard gate opened.

"Qingxiao, what brings you here at this hour? Come in, quickly."

Wu was somewhat surprised to see Xu Qingxiao, but she immediately invited him inside.

"I bought a few things for Master Zhou. Please accept them."

Xu Qingxiao handed her what he was carrying and spoke politely.

"You could have just come. Why bring gifts? Qingxiao, don't do this next time."

Wu was a little surprised. Despite her words, having a visitor bring gifts naturally pleased her, and her fondness for Xu Qingxiao multiplied.

After accepting the gifts, Wu asked with concern.

"Have you eaten? Let me make you a couple of dishes."

"No, no need. I came today to ask Master Zhou a few questions. Is he busy?"

Xu Qingxiao asked.

"Not at all. He's reading. Just go straight to him. I'll warm up a couple of dishes for you."

Wu waved her hand and, regardless of what Xu Qingxiao said, went straight to the kitchen to warm the food.

Xu Qingxiao gave a wry chuckle, but he did not linger and immediately went to the study to find Zhou Ling.

The study was brightly lit.

Zhou Ling was reading, undisturbed by the activity outside.

Only when Xu Qingxiao entered did Zhou Ling notice that someone had come.

"What brings you here?"

Zhou Ling was somewhat surprised. It was already evening, and people generally did not visit at this hour without important business.

"Master, your student came today to ask you a few questions."

"Oh, and... your student has attained a rank."

Xu Qingxiao spoke without hesitation, directly revealing that he had attained a rank.

It was precisely because he had attained a rank that Xu Qingxiao called himself a student. After all, Zhou Ling had guided him onto this path, so there was nothing improper about addressing himself that way.

"Oh, so you've attained a rank. I understand that."

"What?"

"You've attained a rank?"

"Are you pulling my leg?"

Zhou Ling had remained calm upon hearing that Xu Qingxiao had attained a rank, but after giving an instinctive reply, he abruptly realized what had been said.

Attained a rank?

A rank in the Confucian Dao?

He had studied for decades and still stood just short of crossing the threshold. Xu Qingxiao had known absolutely nothing about the Confucian Dao yesterday, yet today he had attained a rank?

Zhou Ling could not believe it.

The next moment, he gathered the scant Righteous Haoran Qi within his body and channeled it into his eyes.

Then he examined Xu Qingxiao with the utmost care.

Sure enough, at that moment, faint white qi surrounded Xu Qingxiao.

This was Righteous Haoran Qi. It could not be faked.

Ordinary people could not see this literary qi. Only scholars, cultivators, or martial artists who had opened their heavenly eye could perceive it.

And when the literary qi appeared.

Zhou Ling froze.

He stood rooted to the spot in a daze, his entire body stiff, without reacting even as the book in his hand fell to the floor.