Lu Zheng handed the Xiuchun blade, ready to be sharpened, to the shop assistant, and took the cloud-patterned Longquan sword, examining it from side to side.
“Good sword!”
“Though the material and sharpness are similar, this sword is far inferior to that blade, it’s not suited for heavy slashing,” Du Lin reminded.
Lu Zheng nodded, “Got it, don’t worry.”
Last time, when delivering the ghoul’s remains to Daoist Mingzhang at Baiyun Temple, Lu Zheng noticed a sword hanging on his wall.
Judging by the hilt, the Daoist was likely someone who practised swordsmanship regularly, so Lu Zheng thought to appeal to his interests.
With a fine sword and his own talent for cultivating a sense of qi in just half a month, could he coax something more from the Daoist?
Sheathing the cloud-patterned sword, Lu Zheng happily took a taxi home.
“Hm?”
As he entered, about to change into slippers, Lu Zheng’s eyes narrowed, and his brow furrowed.
Someone had been in his home!
It happened while he was out.
The slippers by the door, which he distinctly remembered kicking askew before leaving, were now slightly realigned!
He was certain of it, he’d even glanced at them before leaving but was too lazy to bend down and fix them, so Lu Zheng was sure his memory was correct.
A thief? In broad daylight?
That bold?
Expressionless, Lu Zheng checked his valuables, but nothing seemed stolen.
If not for the clearly moved slippers, he might’ve thought he was imagining things.
“No way, did a thief come in, find nothing worth taking, and just leave?”
Opening the door, he looked down the silent corridor, no sound at all.
Frowning, Lu Zheng could only set aside his doubts.
Nothing was missing, and calling the police over a slightly moved slipper would likely earn him a lecture on wasting public resources.
“Time to change the lock, maybe a keypad would be safer?”
He relocated the box containing his ID and bank cards, then thoroughly checked the house for hidden cameras.
Thankfully, nothing.
That afternoon, Lu Zheng travelled to ancient times, first sending Li Bo to the carriage station to book a ride for the next morning, then practising his breathing techniques and the Eighteen Forms of Burden Mountain to strengthen his inner qi and vitality.
He also occasionally returned to the modern world to handle phone messages, like his mum’s check-ins and encouragement, or Tong Muxuan’s teasing and boasting.
The day passed monotonously.
…
The next day, at Baiyun Temple.
“Young Master Lu, what brings you here today, burning incense again?” Daoist Mingzhang smiled.
Lu Zheng donated a string of merit money as usual, then carried a box into the Daoist’s quiet chamber.
“Young Master, this is…”
“Thanks to the breathing technique you gave me,” Lu Zheng began, “the ghoul’s remains were a small matter, you helped ease my burden. I may not be talented, but I understand gratitude.”
“You’re too kind, Young Master. Those two scriptures brought me some merit as well, no need for modesty.”
Lu Zheng smiled, “I came today for two reasons: first, I recently acquired a fine sword, which I offer as a token of thanks, second, I’ve cultivated a sense of qi through the Meridian Breathing Method and wish to ask if you have any transmissible techniques to teach me.”
At the mention of the sword, Daoist Mingzhang stroked his beard with a smile, but when Lu Zheng finished, he was visibly surprised.
“You’ve already cultivated a sense of qi?”
“Indeed.”
The Daoist grasped Lu Zheng’s wrist, probing with his own qi.
Lu Zheng guided his qi from his dantian, cycling it through his body.
“You’ve truly cultivated qi!” Daoist Mingzhang was astonished, “And after just a few days, why is your vitality so robust? Have you also trained in martial arts?”
“Er, yes,” Lu Zheng grinned, not daring to elaborate.
“Do you have a martial arts master?”
“No, I just stumbled upon the Eighteen Forms of Burden Mountain and practised on my own.”
“Practised blindly…” The Daoist was speechless.
Shaking his head, he continued, “Last time, I only noticed your strong physique, but I didn’t realise you were also trained in martial arts.”
Muttering to himself, he said, “Without a master’s guidance, you hadn’t achieved much before, just tempering your body without cultivating martial vitality. But after receiving the breathing technique, you made a breakthrough, cultivating it in just days?”
“Ahem…”
“While cultivating vitality, you gained a momentary heightened sensitivity, which allowed you to directly achieve a Daoist sense of qi?”
“Er, yes…”
“Regardless, to cultivate qi in half a month, and with such strong qi, Young Master Lu, your talent is extraordinary.”
“Ahem, you flatter me…”
Releasing Lu Zheng’s wrist, Daoist Mingzhang sat back, staring silently.
“Daoist?”
“Young Master, I knew you were keen on cultivation, but I initially saw you as a wealthy layman of the mundane world, so I had no intention of taking you as a disciple.”
In other words, he didn’t think Lu Zheng could handle hardship and hadn’t considered him worthy.
“But I misjudged you, seeing you’ve trained in martial arts.”
“You’re too kind.”
“Slaying a ghoul with a mortal body already shows your remarkable nature.”
“Too much praise!”
“I do have transmissible techniques, but they’re not particularly powerful, merely better than nothing.”
“Er…”
“Are you satisfied with just these minor techniques, Young Master?”
Lu Zheng was speechless, didn’t you refuse me as a disciple before?
“Would you be willing to join Baiyun Temple?” Daoist Mingzhang asked solemnly.
Oh? Now it’s possible?
Lu Zheng’s eyes lit up, “That’s my wish, any requirements?”
“Core disciples must wear Daoist robes, reside in the temple, attend daily morning and evening lessons, and be recorded in the temple’s registry,” the Daoist said with a faint smile.
“Heh,” Lu Zheng gave a dry laugh, understanding why he was previously rejected.
“There’s also the option of a lay disciple, similar to a nominal one. While you won’t receive the temple’s core teachings, most cultivation methods are still accessible.”
The Daoist explained, “However, lay disciples must contribute money or effort when the temple requires, without refusal.”
“Even if it’s to kill or commit arson?” Lu Zheng couldn’t help asking.
“Nonsense! Baiyun Temple is a renowned Daoist institution, well-known across the Great Jing Dynasty, a righteous sect, how could we ask you to do such things?”
“Just asking, just asking,” Lu Zheng laughed dryly.
“Any other questions?”
“How powerful are the cultivation methods? Can they grant immortality?”
“That depends on you. The temple does have an ancestor who witnessed Emperor Jing’s divine might during the founding.”
“Can they subdue demons?”
“The temple has a white crane, born of a great demon from the southern lands.”
“Are other righteous methods allowed?”
“If you have the skill and opportunity, the temple would welcome it.”
“Then I’m willing!”
