Zhou Yi had possessed the Purple Ying Sword for quite some time, nurturing it in his dantian all the while.
When fighting the Fox Immortal, he had treated it as a magical treasure, no different from mirrors, cauldrons, seals, or talismans.
He had simply poured magical power into it, crude and direct, turning it into Purple Ying Sword Qi to amplify its killing power.
Now, blessed with the Swordsmanship divine ability, he instantly felt a bond of blood with the Purple Ying Sword. Even without performing any sword-art techniques, his power when controlling the sword had doubled.
The sword was the ancestor of short weapons, the sovereign of all arms, born for slaughter.
Swordsmanship was the path of killing.
Sword immortals commanded slaughter and excelled in magical combat. They would break before bending, pressing ever forward, their killing power at the pinnacle of their rank.
"With the mysteries of the Earthly Baleful Divine Ability, as long as I understand the principles, I could theoretically create my own sword techniques."
Zhou Yi had watched plenty of films and read plenty of books in his previous life. The swordsmen had always been the coolest.
He had forgotten most other martial arts and spells, but remembered sword techniques such as Imperial Swordsmanship, the Ten Thousand Swords Art, Sword Twenty-Three, and the Nine Swords of Dugu with perfect clarity. Even as an adult, he had often dreamed of being a swordsman.
Riding a sword upon the wind, its chill sweeping the Nine Provinces, taking a head from a thousand miles away as easily as plucking something from a pouch...
"Relying on imagination alone is a little slow. If I use this world's sword techniques as nourishment and let the two illuminate each other, I can wield the sword arts that existed only in my previous life's imagination that much sooner."
Zhou Yi planned to buy some basic sword techniques after finishing work that day.
Previously, he had looked down on ordinary sword techniques. Learning them would have been of little use, after all; in the end, he would still simply bulldoze through with ten thousand years of magical power.
Now that he had supreme talent in swordsmanship, he could start with basic techniques, combining and extrapolating them. With the same amount of magical power, Ten Thousand Swords Return to the Origin would far surpass plain Sword Qi in both style and strength.
As for why he would not buy advanced sword techniques, or even sword arts...
Zhou Yi shed a poor man's tears.
Zhang Cheng walked in with his hands tucked into his sleeves, humming a little tune, and noticed Zhou Yi's distraction.
"Something weighing on your mind? Tell Old Zhang so I can have a laugh."
Ever since his aching back had recovered, Zhang Cheng had returned to his carefree ways.
"Brother Zhang, I want to learn some sword techniques for self-defense. Any recommendations?"
Putting on a shameless face, Zhou Yi said, "I'm not asking for much. Any leftovers from what you learned before would do. I'm not picky."
"..."
Zhang Cheng rolled his eyes. "You're getting more shameless by the day, brat. I heard Fahai invited you to join the Buddhist School. Clearly, he wasn't wrong about you!"
"The Buddhist School is quiet and pure. How could that compare to enjoying myself with you, Brother Zhang?"
Zhou Yi smiled. "I'm just a minor clerk with no connections. If I want to learn something useful, how can I worry about saving face?"
Rather than ask for readily available, high-quality sword techniques for free, he would have to pay for basic swordsmanship. Zhou Yi could not make such an idiotic choice.
Only the weak cared about saving face; the strong trampled it underfoot. Take a certain lofty mighty being, for example: he had cast aside his dignity and addressed the Three Pure Dao Ancestors as senior brothers at every turn, ultimately claiming every advantage and bringing prosperity to the Buddhist School.
"Sword techniques? Of course I have some. But I can't give them to you for nothing."
Zhang Cheng fetched paper and a brush and swiftly filled a page. "This Beast Drunk is troublesome to brew, and I'm busy every day. Brew me ten... a hundred jars."
"A hundred jars? Forget it. The Demon-Slaying Bureau is perfectly safe anyway. I won't learn swordsmanship."
Zhou Yi refused outright.
Zhang Cheng hastily changed his tune. "Ten jars. Just ten. The ten-jin kind."
"You have to teach me the sword techniques first."
"Get lost!"
The western market.
Holding the recipe for Beast Drunk, Zhou Yi bought the ingredients one by one.
The brewing method for Beast Drunk resembled the tiger-bone liquor he had seen in his previous life. It required the bones of eighteen kinds of fierce beasts.
These had to be blended in specific proportions, then combined with more than a dozen medicinal ingredients and added to ordinary clear spirits for repeated distillation, finally producing Beast Drunk.
Zhang Cheng had specified on the paper that the base liquor had to be ten-year-aged Pear Blossom White, costing at least fifteen taels a jar.
Zhou Yi ordered a hundred jars of Pear Blossom White, and more than half his royalties vanished in an instant.
"If he fobs me off with ordinary sword techniques, I'll give him a good scare while he's having a heart-to-heart with some girl. He won't be able to visit the Spring Breeze Pavilion for at least a month."
He soon gathered the eighteen kinds of beast bones, except for tiger bones, which he could find no one selling.
The Myriad Connections Trading House, the largest trading house in Luo Capital, claimed to move goods throughout all sixteen provinces. It sold practically everything available on the market and supposedly had ties to the imperial Li family.
Zhou Yi went there to ask whether they sold tiger bones.
"Sir, we really don't have any tiger bones, but you can place an order."
The shopkeeper checked his records. "Ordinary tiger bones will take about seven or eight days. Tiger teeth and claws... you'll have to wait at least half a year, and even then there's no guarantee."
Zhou Yi asked in puzzlement, "Are tiger bones really that scarce? I've seen plenty of people selling tiger meat, and the price has dropped considerably."
"Heh, tiger meat naturally used to fetch a higher price, but you must not have read this book."
The shopkeeper took a book from behind the counter. "Master Zhu in the northern city was afflicted by something evil while passing through the paupers' burial ground. He called in plenty of famous doctors, but none could cure him. Just when he was about to die, guess what saved him?"
Zhou Yi saw the title clearly: The Complete Tales of the Executioner, by Hermit Willow Spring.
Unfortunately, it was obviously a pirated edition, with poor-quality paper, blurred print, and the cheapest possible thread binding.
Zhou Yi ventured, "Was it something to do with tiger bones?"
Tales of the Executioner contained a hundred and eight accounts, thirty-six of which recorded strange occurrences. The seventh story concerned tiger teeth.
At the end, the story told readers that tigers were savage and violent creatures capable of commanding Tiger Wraiths. Wearing their claws or teeth could fortify one's yang energy, keeping ghosts and evil spirits at bay while also diverting calamity and suppressing baleful intent.
"Clever, young master!"
The shopkeeper turned to a page. "Master Zhu's son bought a dozen or so tiger teeth, made them into a necklace, and put it on his father. The evil affliction cleared up without medicine!"
"Ever since then, tiger claws and teeth have become treasures for warding off evil. Tiger bones are a little less effective, but even a single bone is hard to come by."
"So that's how it is."
Zhou Yi did not know whether to laugh or cry, yet felt rather gratified.
Knowing that Tales of the Executioner had saved one person made him happier than selling several thousand more copies would have.
"Do you still want tiger bones, young master? We're the only shop in the entire western market that can guarantee a supply."
Lowering his voice, the shopkeeper pointed toward the ceiling. "We have people above us. They've put together a special tiger-catching team..."
Zhou Yi nodded. "Yes. A hundred jin of the cheapest tiger bones."
"That will be thirteen hundred taels, with a nonrefundable deposit of one hundred."
Smiling broadly, the shopkeeper brought out a contract.
"..."
Zhou Yi still hoped Tales of the Executioner would sell a few more copies.
Seven or eight days later, Zhou Yi received the tiger bones, fresh and still stained with blood.
Brewing Beast Drunk was an elaborate process. Each kind of beast bone required different treatment, so he could only ask Zhang Cheng about them one by one.
A hundred jin of beast bones yielded only a dozen or so jin of essence after repeated grinding and refining.
It took more than a month to produce the bone powder for Beast Drunk. After he mixed in more than a dozen medicinal ingredients, it turned grayish-white.
The Pear Blossom White was clear. When he sprinkled in the powder, it bubbled and gurgled, reminding Zhou Yi of a wizard brewing potions.
After soaking for three months, the bone powder fully blended into the liquor, which then underwent repeated distillation.
Ten parts yielded one.
When the Beast Drunk was ready, its fragrance spread through the surrounding neighborhood.
Passersby stopped to ask which household was brewing liquor; merely smelling it left them feeling slightly tipsy.
"With this strength, can a normal person even drink it?"
Zhou Yi poured a cup and took a small sip.
The liquor was like blazing fire, passing from his mouth into his throat and burning all the way down through his lungs, organs, stomach, and bowels, leaving his entire body warm.
Hiss-
"Fine liquor!"
Zhou Yi let out a long breath.
Ordinary people truly could not drink this liquor. They would need to have at least entered the ranks of Body Refining, or their internal organs would not withstand it.
The next day.
Zhou Yi carried the liquor to the Ministry of Works.
When Zhang Cheng entered the room, his nose twitched, and he immediately caught its fragrance.
"That's Beast Drunk. Hurry up and bring it out, brat."
"You hand over the sword manual first."
Having spent nearly half a year on this, Zhou Yi had to guard against Zhang Cheng reneging on their bargain.
"Let me look."
Zhang Cheng rummaged through the piles of books in the room, found a booklet, and handed it to Zhou Yi.
The cover bore the date "Jingtai Year Thirty-Two, Jichou Month." It was one of the notebooks he copied into in his spare time. Inside, to Zhou Yi's surprise, were drawings of little figures.
Each drawing showed meridians, with explanations of sword techniques beside it, along with remarks that were clearly personal insights.
Zhang Cheng said, "This is the first volume of the Great Qian Sword Scripture, available only in the palace. They say the founding emperor wrote it himself. You're getting a bargain, brat. Now hand over the liquor."
Zhou Yi offered up the Beast Drunk and asked casually, "Brother Zhang, this swordsmanship doesn't require castration, does it?"
Zhang Cheng frowned. "Yin alone cannot give birth; yang alone cannot grow. Any cultivation method that requires castration must be a crooked side path. Why would the founding emperor record such a thing?"
"Good, then."
Zhou Yi leafed through the Sword Scripture and soon became engrossed.
The instant he encountered the Sword Scripture, his limitless talent in swordsmanship sprang into action.
As the sword techniques entered Zhou Yi's eyes, he rapidly extrapolated their variations, continually combining and overlaying them.
By the time he finished turning the pages, he had thoroughly comprehended the first volume of the Sword Scripture.
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