A Long Grind to Daoist Monarch-Chapter 56: Entering the Library, a Millennium of Dao Lost
Magic techniques?
It seems that what’s recorded on those two sheets of yellow paper are unremarkable magic techniques!
Bai Qi breathed a huge sigh of relief upon hearing this. He had been somewhat worried that his brother Bai Ming’s ailment might be related to the "tainted air" mentioned by Uncle Dao.
After all, the physician had seen him a few times and said it was "epilepsy" or "possessed by evil spirits."
Lao Dao, assuming Bai Qi was a youth intrigued by the immortals in storybooks, cheerfully advised:
"Young Master Qi, focus a bit more. Martial arts aren’t inferior to Daoist arts. Immortal Masters in the Prefecture City can summon the wind and rain, but our Grandmasters of the Four Trainings can also tread the rivers and break the currents, not any less impressive."
Bai Qi reined in his stray thoughts, and as he swallowed the large bowl of Demon Pill Juice, the surge of powerful and somewhat furious medicine finally began to take effect.
Every inch of muscle, every strand of skin felt coated in chili oil, becoming intensely scorching, prompting an urge to tear and scratch.
"I take back what I said earlier; this is a hundred times more stimulating than Tongwen Hall’s medicinal baths!"
Bai Qi could no longer maintain steady breathing. With energy burning intensely with nowhere to disperse, he stepped out of the kitchen and began practicing the Arhat Hand, repeating the eighteen postures, becoming more adept, nearly ingrained in his bones.
The boiling Qi Blood wrapped around his muscles as if trying to cook them.
Inexpressible heat made his skin flushed red, with veins protruding conspicuously, making him look rather daunting like a Yaksha.
"This is truly remarkable nourishment. If it were me in my younger days, drinking a bowl of this, battling ten women in a brothel would be no problem."
Lao Dao leaned against the kitchen door, munching peanuts with a crisp, crackling sound:
"Young Master Qi, don’t clench your fists too tightly. Keep your shoulders and arms relaxed. The waist and hips are the body’s foundation; turn them agilely and twist them flexibly; that’s how you achieve proficiency.
The Martial Arts Hall teaches hard skills like sandbag punching and stone lock lifting, all for Muscle Training.
The three-year entry-level stance training aims to stretch the muscles, enabling punches to be launched with explosive force, producing a striking and powerful effect."
Listening to the advice, Bai Qi gained significant insights. His arms and hips felt like old parts cleaned of rust, re-lubricated, becoming more relaxed and powerful.
The progress of the skills reflected in the ink talisman seemed like a dry pond receiving sweet rain, with the water level steadily rising.
After finishing a set of Arhat Hand practice, he followed with a set of Golden Core Great Strength Skill’s "Sand Sifting Rider" pose.
Half an hour, an hour...
Only until the sky was slightly dim and the evening sun’s last glow faded did Bai Qi stop and gather his stance.
Sweating profusely, his body evaporated and condensed like salt granules, allowing him to rub off dark yellow dead skin.
"How is it?"
Under Lao Dao’s feet lay a pile of peanut shells, seeming to enjoy the view with no trace of boredom.
"Refreshing! It feels like a complete transformation! I’ve never felt this good before!"
Bai Qi expressed his delight thrice, showcasing his profound joy.
With a smile on his face, he carefully sensed that his internal Qi Blood felt heavier, even carrying some weight rather than the previous lightness.
This was not about breaking into Bone Training but rather the Demon Pill concoction securing the floating Qi Blood, enhancing his strength.
"The Qi Blood, infused with medicinal energy, permeates the fascia, smoother than crude methods like blunt force hitting."
Seeing the Young Master’s new apprentice flourishing, Lao Dao felt quite satisfied:
"The hot water’s ready, Young Master Qi, go wash up quickly."
Bai Qi looked at his peeled-off skin which seemed more delicate than before, with layers of old calluses on his palms revealing a lively, healthy rosy hue.
"Really great, this Demon Pill is some good nourishment!"
Though he didn’t aim to become a pretty face, accomplishing a thorough body transformation was certainly beneficial.
Just like a thriving tree branching and budding, nurturing vitality.
He hauled two large buckets of hot water back into the room, pouring them all in.
Quickly taking off his crumpled clothes, Bai Qi hurriedly sat inside, scrubbing his body with loofah.
Large households use luxury soap; doing without, he made do.
Chunks of dead skin rubbed off, floating on the water’s surface; once clean, he changed into a fresh undergarment and appeared in front of the bronze mirror.
The young man within, hair loose, no longer showed his formerly wind-battered tanned thinness, instead revealing tender skin, wide shoulders, broad back, and long legs. He possessed a prominent, striking vigor.
"You’ve progressed, Bai Qilang! You’ll achieve even more, venture further, see more magnificent sights!"
Bai Qi gazed at his reflection, quietly muttering, solidifying his determination.
He would make his way to the end of the 800-mile Black Water River one day.
What will I be like at that time?
...
...
Collecting books is not an easy task.
Especially in Black River County, if there’s a study at home, it qualifies the family as a truly large household.
If generations show a tendency to read, gradually filling up a collection of one or two hundred large volumes, it wouldn’t be an issue to hang the word "scholarly" at the door.
So when Bai Qi saw the "Dezhen Tower" with bookshelves lining both levels, he couldn’t help but marvel again at the profound heritage of Tongwen Hall.
Just this one place already surpasses all Martial Arts Halls in the Inner City.
"Here’s the key. Young Master Qi, make a copy. Anytime you want to relieve boredom, come over by yourself."
As one of the only two current disciples of Tongwen Hall, Bai Qi receives high treatment; aside from free meals and lodging, the costs for practicing martial arts, every place in the front and back yard is open to him.
There is no real "forbidden area" that he can’t step foot in.
"Thank you, Uncle Dao. Are there any rules for the library here? I’m afraid of unintentionally offending Master Ning."
Bai Qi, cautious and meticulous, sees enrolling in Tongwen Hall as his greatest opportunity and must seize it well.
"Haha, as long as Young Master Qi doesn’t set fire here, besides that, the second floor gathers many boxing manuals from martial arts halls.
Before instructions are given, it’s best not to touch them. It’s not to prevent theft of learning, but the master’s Five Captures encompass hundreds, nearly exhausting the art of fist and foot.
Since he plans to teach you Arhat Hand and Dragon Palm, other things aren’t necessary to look at, lest they hinder your progress."
Lao Dao chuckled with his hands tucked into his sleeves.
"Alright, I’ll just look around on the first floor."
Bai Qi, clever and agreeable, nods repeatedly. He was not here for martial arts but to gain knowledge, which was most important.
Previously limited by low status, he couldn’t explore the vast world outside Black River County, only unfolding feeble imagination and speculation through miscellaneous stories in the "Grass House Notes."
Now, having an opportunity to understand, he certainly wouldn’t miss it.
Bai Qi pushed open the door, holding a lantern in hand, stepped over the threshold into the Dezhen Tower.
The scent of books greeted him, not as a descriptive metaphor but as a genuine experience.
Because books are precious and cherished, to prevent insects from gnawing and damaging paper, big households would place a plant called "Rue Herb."
It has no fragrance itself, but once dried, its faint and fresh scent grows stronger, capable of lasting decades.
Ah Di Bai Ming once huddled in the corner to listen to a lesson and came back telling Bai Qi about a fun story: book-loving families in Yihai County City proudly boast the title of "Unrotten Books" for their libraries.
"Master Ning’s Dezhen Tower is probably similar."
Bai Qi placed the lantern at the door, lit the candle stands with flint and steel, and in a flash, bright light filled the space, expanding his vision.
Five or six rows of large bookshelves came into view, each thread-bound book properly sorted with aesthetic appeal.
He wandered for a full quarter hour, finally picking a book that seemed to be a historical anecdote, "Scattered Records of Travel," and started to read intently.
"This realm, named ’Red County Divine Land,’ was once a prominent Immortal Land, with various Dao and teachings emerging one after another, prevailing across the world, showing traces of immortals and saints...
Three thousand years ago, a Fallen Immortal came from beyond and brought ten days of bloody rain, the ominous cries of ghosts and gods.
Afterwards, ’Dao Loss’ occurred, and spiritual mechanisms were disordered. The frivolous schools extracted souls and refined spirits; evil sect leaders were excessively rampant, resulting in collapse of rites and music, with people resorting to cannibalism, enduring unspeakable suffering..."
Bai Qi read the words as if glimpsing the dark era amassed of heaps of bones.
He had heard the term "Dao Loss" multiple times before, referring to the period before Dragon Court, but never understood its core meaning.
Now, through these snippets, he learns that those practioners, to prolong their existence or inheritance, went to extremes like consuming flesh, devouring souls, and even harvesting essence blood, slaughtering their peers.
Only now did he slightly grasp the horror of "Dao Loss."
"Dragon Court governed the world, suppressed the five regions, restored order, and saved the masses from disasters..." This part was rather vague, full of praises, lacking substance."
Bai Qi flipped through the pages continuously, and suddenly his gaze tightened as a realization dawned on his face.
"No wonder Dragon Court delegates authority. Black River County doesn’t even have a Government Office, and matters of tax collection and conscription are entrusted to clans;
No wonder Uncle Dao stated that unregistered or unnamed practitioners become trivial, struggling to achieve;
No wonder to pursue Dao, one must go to the big Prefecture City; small towns offer no path... So that’s how it is!"
His finger swept over the words, seemingly realizing the majestic grandeur of that distant Dragon Court.
"After Dao Loss, Dragon Court governed the world, harnessing the spiritual mechanisms for its use, nurturing the vitality of all citizens for the long term."
