“All things with a spirit possess qi, and those with qi have fortune. Corpse ghosts are born from the qi of the netherworld, so they naturally carry their own fortune.”
“Understood, thank you!”
Lu Zheng donated another string of merit money, then took his leave.
…
“Master, this young master is so generous, and I can see his yang qi is strong. That corpse ghost might come after him again. If he falls to a ghostly calamity, wouldn’t it be a pity?”
“No matter. He’s already escaped once yesterday, so he may not encounter it again. Even if the corpse ghost does find him, my peace talisman can shield him from one disaster.”
Daoist Mingzhang shook his head. “What, should I go searching the county aimlessly? In a county of tens of thousands, with the corpse ghost using its skin-painting art, where would I even find it?”
“Uh, Master, you’re not using this young master as bait, are you?”
“Don’t talk nonsense. Young Master Lu’s eyes hold a divine light. When he heard that even mortals can face corpse ghosts, he calmed down at once.”
Daoist Mingzhang said thoughtfully, “Perhaps this time, I won’t even need to act.”
“What, you mean…”
…
On the way home.
Lu Zheng, jolted by the cart, leaned against the carriage wall, arms crossed, deep in thought.
To plan is to succeed; to not plan is to fail. Even if he wanted to adapt slowly, build his foundation, gather fortune, seek cultivation opportunities, and gradually uncover this world’s truths to see if immortality was possible, he had to be prepared.
As a newcomer, he had no immediate means to cultivate.
So, he had to consider the possibility of real accidents.
Rather than letting three strands of fortune light gather dust in the jade seal, he should bolster his ability to handle unexpected threats.
Though he could escape to the modern world at any time, using up fortune to prepare thoroughly would ensure that if the corpse ghost came for him, he wouldn’t let its fortune slip away.
…
He’d left early today and hadn’t stayed long at Baiyun Temple, so Lu Zheng returned home shortly after noon.
Dismissing Li Bo to rest, Lu Zheng locked his bedroom door and crossed back to the modern world.
He opened his phone, searched for Xiuchun blades, found shops, and located one in Haicheng.
Washed, changed, hailed a taxi, and off he went!
In the taxi, Lu Zheng kept busy, searching online for practical sabre techniques.
Traditional Chinese sabre techniques boiled down to basics: slash, chop, block, flick, stab, hang, sweep, pick, press, conceal, back, push, guard, and pull—a dozen or so moves.
Images and videos of these moves were all online.
They might seem simple, but they evolved from real combat, refined yet unadorned.
Different schools’ sabre techniques combined these basics with their unique experiences, forming distinct styles.
But with modern firearms, martial arts had become performative routines. The ancient masters’ skill of training each move, combining them freely, and adapting on the spot had been lost.
Don’t say martial arts are useless. With equal physical ability, you might swing clumsy fists, but a trained fighter could focus strength or wield a weapon, with a dozen variations ready to counter you.
The outcome’s obvious, isn’t it?
Don’t compare to modern frauds. Judging martial arts without considering physical conditioning and real combat experience is nonsense.
In wuxia novels, even young heroes fresh from training could be floored by a seasoned thug with a brick. How much more so in reality?
…
Lu Zheng absorbed sabre basics as he arrived at his destination.
Wanren Ancient Sword Hall.
Specialising in antique weapon replicas.
But… though replicas, the materials were genuine, just unsharpened.
In ancient times, these would’ve been priceless divine weapons.
China’s industrial prowess had long surpassed the past. Could forging a blade be harder than crafting submarine steel?
The Great Jing Dynasty might have immortals and qi refining, but no blast furnaces for steel.
So…
If the corpse ghost didn’t come, fine. If it did, Lu Zheng would settle the score with one strike.
“Welcome, sir!”
A sweet voice snapped him out of his thoughts, deflating his momentum.
What’s with the two cheongsam-clad girls at the entrance of Ancient Sword Hall?
Does having beauties around spark men’s desire to buy weapons?
You’re selling blades, not… wait, they actually have spears?
…
Wanren Ancient Sword Hall was spacious, filled with all sorts of blades and swords.
True to its name as a replica shop, the colours, the patterns…
One had twin dragons vying for a pearl, another bore sun, moon, and stars—some on scabbards, others carved on blades.
Beautiful, truly, but suited for display, not combat. It’d be a waste to use them in a fight.
The shop was busy, mostly with tourists admiring the wares. The staff, used to this, only occasionally stopped people from taking photos, showing no impatience.
How do they make money?
Then Lu Zheng saw the Longquan sword in front of him.
Name: Gilded Nine-Curve Dragon Sword
Material: Ancient Hundred-Folded Steel
Craftsmanship: Hand-forged by a master of intangible cultural heritage
Price: 188,888
Tch, fancy!
“Hello.” Lu Zheng approached a pretty staff member.
“Hello, sir, what do you need?” Her eyes lit up.
In such shops, those who ask directly usually mean to buy. Her commission was coming.
“Do you have Xiuchun blades that can actually be used in combat?”
She gave a knowing smile. “Rest assured, our Xiuchun blades are forged from high-carbon steel, the same material as military knives worldwide…”
“Don’t mislead me,” Lu Zheng cut her off. “Military knives are short, so they’re hard and brittle. Traditional blades are longer, with tougher steel. They use different materials.”
Staff member: (*°ω°*)ﾉ
Is that so?
“You’re a connoisseur, sir,” a magnetic voice said.
Lu Zheng turned to see a middle-aged man.
“And you are?”
“I’m the owner of this shop.”
What’s with this? Are all shop owners middle-aged men these days?
“Hello, I’m no expert, just did a quick online search.”
That stung…
Staff member: /(ㄒoㄒ)/~~
My commission’s gone…
The owner smiled, glancing at the staff member, who left looking crestfallen.
“Looking to buy a blade, sir?”
Lu Zheng nodded. “A Xiuchun blade, one that can hold up in real combat.”
The Xiuchun blade, a type of waist sabre, was famed thanks to the Ming Dynasty’s Jinyiwei and two movies.
“Real combat?”
The owner’s mouth twitched. Who needs that in modern times?
What are you planning?
“Can you do it?”
“Of course,” the owner explained. “In modern times, yes, but in ancient times, every blade in my shop would be a divine weapon.”
Lu Zheng nodded, as he’d suspected.
“And can you sharpen it?”
Owner: (꒪⌓꒪)!!!
What exactly are you up to?
