"Is your junior brother really a martial arts fanatic?"
At the wall of their home, Zhao Pengju leaned over the top and looked at a young Daoist in the courtyard, with a meridian chart hanging in front of him.
The young Daoist held a scripture in one hand, consulting the meridian chart as he gestured at something. His lips moved constantly, but his muttering was too quiet to make out.
Zhang Qingyuan sighed helplessly. "Exactly. All you ever see is me swindling people. When have you ever seen my junior brother go out?"
Zhao Pengju thought about it. That was true.
Zhang Qingyuan said mournfully, "The two of us have had a hard life. Back when our master was alive, he took us traveling north and south. Later, mountain bandits killed him while he was protecting us.
"Ever since then, my junior brother has been like a man possessed, determined to learn martial arts and avenge him.
"At first, he wouldn't even eat. He was terribly out of his mind.
"Only recently did he get a little better. At least he can take care of himself now.
"He's gone mad, but I can't go mad along with him. I have to support our household.
"You just think it's wrong for me to swindle people. Yes, I admit I can't tell fortunes. I'm just fooling people. But in times like these, with a junior brother like this to look after, tell me, what else can I do?
"Ever since I was little, my master told me that children from poor families have to shoulder the household early..."
Zhang Qingyuan's eyes reddened, and Zhao Pengju's heart softened.
A different picture emerged in his mind.
To care for his junior brother, Zhang Qingyuan had no choice but to set up a fortune-telling stall on the street.
To make his junior brother happy, he also had to spend all his money on scriptures and meridian charts.
Even cozying up to his mother was no longer an attempt to get martial arts out of him, but merely a way to ask for a few free cabbages so his junior brother could eat something decent.
He apparently didn't just cozy up to his mother. Everyone around him got along well with him.
Zhang Qingyuan didn't know what story he was concocting in his head, but he knew his spiel had worked.
"You've worked hard."
A thousand words condensed into those words as Zhao Pengju patted his shoulder.
In a world of martial heroes, scheming and deception were inevitable, but chivalrous hearts existed too.
Hadn't a certain Khitan who practiced the Eighteen Dragon-Subduing Palms wanted to become sworn brothers after just a few words?
And there was a certain outcast from Mount Hua who treated anyone he hit it off with as a friend, good or evil.
What was pity? Pity was someone above looking down upon the hardships of someone below.
To Zhao Pengju, Zhang Qingyuan was someone below.
Zhang Qingyuan wiped away the tears he had only managed to squeeze out with considerable effort and shook his head. "I'm used to it."
Zhao Pengju was helpless too. He had the heart of a great hero, so after returning from the mountain, he had wiped out the Heavenly Dragon Gang, which committed every evil imaginable, and befriended the leader of the Dry Flood Dragon Gang, which had a good reputation.
But some rules still couldn't be broken.
Unable to bear it, he said, "Although I sympathize deeply with you brothers, teaching you martial arts... the Cangshan Sword Technique cannot be passed on to anyone outside the Cangshan Sword Sect, so..."
"No, no, Brother Ju, since you're here, I'm not asking for your sword technique or your internal cultivation method. You understand the principles of internal cultivation and the basics of swordsmanship, right? I'm begging you to give my junior brother whatever pointers you can. How far he gets will depend on his own fortune.
"That would make my friendship with Auntie Li count for something, too. A few days ago, while you were away, I even patched your roof."
What did great heroes fear? Above all, they feared owing favors.
What worked best on great heroes? Moral blackmail.
I, Zhang Qingyuan, will never become a great hero in this life, because I don't like owing favors, and moral blackmail certainly doesn't work on me.
Over these past few months, Zhang Qingyuan had clearly discovered that calling ancient and modern people's thinking not entirely alike was an understatement. They were worlds apart.
Modern people couldn't understand how a mob of beggars could slander Xiao Feng into speechlessness, nor could they understand why Zhang Cuishan had killed himself despite having such powerful backing.
To modern people, there were many ways to handle a situation.
But in ancient times, perhaps every situation had a fixed way of being handled.
In ancient times, once you swore an oath, you had to fulfill it even at the cost of your life and the end of your path.
In modern times, people swore to quit smoking and drinking, swore to love only one person. Heh, he certainly didn't believe them.
Zhao Pengju walked to the entrance and knocked.
Still immersed in his own world, Zhang Junbao paused, then went over to open the door. Seeing a strange man standing outside with a sword in hand, he was startled.
"Who are you looking for?"
Seeing that Zhang Qingyuan hadn't followed him in, Zhao Pengju smiled pityingly at Zhang Junbao, his sympathy plain on his face. Like someone coaxing a child, he said, "Your senior brother invited me to give you pointers in martial arts. Don't worry. I'm a famous hero here in Sanhe Town. My name is Zhao Pengju."
Zhang Junbao had his doubts, but upon hearing that his senior brother had invited him, he immediately let him in.
He just couldn't understand whether this hero had something wrong with his head. What was that expression supposed to be?
And did all great heroes speak so kindly and warmly?
"Thank you."
Once inside, Zhao Pengju looked around, paying particular attention to the chaotic scribbles on the meridian chart.
Zhang Junbao followed behind him, thought for a moment, then went inside and brought him a bowl of water.
Zhao Pengju accepted the large bowl and took a sip, then pointed his scabbard at the meridian chart. "Wrong. You've drawn this wrong. Internal force follows its own rules when circulating through the meridians.
"Look here. These two meridians aren't connected. Internal force can't circulate here. It has to travel this way to complete a full circuit."
How much did Brother Yuan spend on this?
Was he really this dedicated?
Zhang Junbao knew the man was right. It was as though the tangled weeds blocking his understanding had suddenly been cleared away.
"Thank you for your guidance."
Zhang Junbao bowed deeply, then listened as attentively as a primary school student.
Zhao Pengju didn't teach him any internal cultivation method. He merely explained the rules and principles governing the circulation of internal force through the meridians.
Different internal arts had different cultivation methods and used different meridians.
He only explained the principles. As for how to cultivate, Zhang Junbao would still have to find a secret manual himself.
As for creating martial arts just from knowing the principles?
Hah. Did he think he was a grandmaster?
Everyone knew apples fell downward, but hadn't Newton been the one to study mechanics? It was the same principle.
Although Zhao Pengju was humoring a child, he wasn't the least bit careless with his teaching.
After a while, Zhang Qingyuan returned carrying two jin of pork, ten eggs, a jug of wine, and several kinds of vegetables.
Seeing one teaching and the other learning, Zhang Qingyuan felt deeply gratified.
Then he carried the pork into the kitchen to cook, without joining in.
For dinner, Zhang Qingyuan made six dishes.
At the table, Zhao Pengju continued talking without pause, Zhang Qingyuan frequently toasted him, and Zhang Junbao thanked him over and over.
After three rounds of drinks, the brothers saw Zhao Pengju off.
Back inside, they cleared away the bowls and chopsticks, then sat at the table.
"How was it?" Zhang Qingyuan asked excitedly.
Zhang Junbao nodded, exclaiming in delight, "The weeds have cleared from my mind! I understand the principles of internal cultivation now. I have internal force, and I know how it should circulate. Tonight, I'll try it and see whether I can find a faster, better circulation method."
"There's no rush. Take it slowly. Don't suffer Qi deviation."
"It's fine. I'll be careful."
"Remember, you must incorporate the ideas from the scriptures. That can reduce the risk of Qi deviation."
"Yes, I will."
"How about this? I'll give you a few ideas."
"Go ahead."
Now, what was the general outline of the Nine Yang Divine Skill again? And the Nine Yin Manual? Damn this brain. Think!
After a while, he said, "Let him be strong; the clear breeze brushes the mountain ridge. Let him be overbearing; the bright moon shines upon the great river. Let him be ruthless, let him be vicious; I have a full breath of True Qi within.
"As for the essentials, sink your Qi into the depths, condense your strength at the mountain's roots. Use intent rather than exertion, guiding Qi with intent instead of relying solely on brute force. The practitioner must use intent to guide the circulation of True Qi, keeping intent unbroken even when force breaks."
Zhang Junbao froze, then exclaimed, "What a brilliant idea! Unmoving as a mountain, fierce and powerful in itself. The internal force centers on masculine Qi, yet follows the path of overcoming hardness with softness."
See? That's what a genius is. I only recited the Nine Yang Divine Skill formula from a novel, and he summed it up himself.
"Any ideas?"
"Yes." Zhang Junbao nodded excitedly. "By the way, Brother Yuan, where did you hear this cultivation formula?"
The Heaven Sword and Dragon Saber... Zhang Qingyuan smiled. "From a storyteller's wild fabrications, combined with your Brother Yuan's brilliant imagination."
"You're a genius!"
"You're the genius."
Zhang Junbao cupped his hands toward Zhang Qingyuan. "Senior brother, lofty indeed!"
Zhang Qingyuan returned the salute. "Junior brother, hard indeed!"
They exchanged a smile and said in unison, "The two of us are both lofty and hard!"