—————————————————————–
Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: Teottry
—————————————————————–
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
At the very moment Xiaoshao, completely focused, had one-shot the unsuspecting assassin, Mancheon was crawling out of bed, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
“Ugh… I need to pee… bathroom…”
If this were a fantasy world, he could just summon an Undine to take care of it, and then a Sylph to dry him off, so he wouldn’t have to bother going to the bathroom.
It was a shame…
And while he was used to it by now, as someone accustomed to bidets, ancient toilets were… challenging.
Well, the new dynasty, having absorbed the culture of the Song Dynasty, had surprisingly advanced sanitation technology.
While it wasn’t as impressive as the magical toilets powered by magic stones often found in fantasy novels, being able to… relieve oneself hygienically was a definite plus.
He stumbled out of the outhouse in the inn’s courtyard, still half-asleep, when…
he suddenly sensed a presence behind him.
They hadn’t sprung up from the earth, obviously, so they must have been following him since he left the inn, their presence concealed.
“You’re the martial artist who played Sakra Devanam Indra in the chase scene, using light footwork, right?”
A soft, feminine voice, yet somehow childlike, addressed him from behind.
While he didn’t care about the speaker’s gender at this point, being approached by a woman was certainly preferable than having a large, sweaty man breathing down his neck.
And the fact that they hadn’t attacked him outright, instead attempting to engage in conversation, suggested they weren’t one of the assassins from before.
Perhaps… he could use this opportunity to create an opening?
“I’m not sure what you’re talking about, Miss. You seem to have mistaken me for someone else.”
“You’re trying to play dumb, but I know it’s you.”
It seemed the question had been a mere formality, a perfunctory inquiry; they had already made up their mind.
He didn’t understand the point of asking in the first place.
But… it told him one thing: they didn’t intend to harm him right now.
Whatever their purpose, they had identified him as their target, and yet, instead of attacking, they had initiated a conversation.
They had the advantage, yet they hadn’t attacked. That contradiction, that inconsistency, created an opening.
He channeled his internal energy into his staff and his left foot, and, with a disarming laugh, he attempted to distract his pursuer.
“Haha! You got me. But I never dreamed a real celestial maiden would come to greet me.”
“W-What?”
The unexpected, nonsensical comment drew a confused response from the person behind him, and Mancheon seized the opportunity.
He pushed off the ground, creating distance, then, using his staff as a pivot, spun around, facing his pursuer.
“Huh?”
Now he was the one expressing surprise.
Short, chin-length hair, beautiful golden hair and golden eyes that seemed to shimmer like molten gold, and a face that seemed both childlike and mature.
His pursuer was a small child.
Taken aback, Mancheon’s wariness faded, and he spoke playfully.
“Little Miss Celestial Maiden, you’re a bit young to be seducing gods and ascending to the heavens. Do you have an older sister, or perhaps an aunt, who’s a celestial maiden?”
A gust of wind brushed past his cheek. Someone was moving.
Before he could react, the little celestial maiden closed the distance, her small fist connecting with his solar plexus.
“Oof-… Gah?!”
He collapsed to the ground, gasping for breath, his body wracked with pain, as the little celestial maiden… or rather,
the martial arts master disguised as a child, approached, placing a small foot on his chest and grinding it into his sternum. She looked down at him, her expression disdainful, the moon at her back casting her face in shadow.
“Little boy, didn’t your master ever teach you to be wary of the elderly and children in the martial world?”
Whimper… no one ever taught me that… refu… My masters should give me a refund…
A grown man, pinned to the ground by a child. A silent scream echoed in his mind.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
The Quanzhen Sect.
If you were to ask any martial artist in the Central Plains who the leading authorities, the most prestigious and influential figures in the martial world were, nine out of ten would answer Shaolin and Wudang.
However, in the past, it wasn’t Wudang, but the Quanzhen Sect, that held the position of the Big Dipper.
Mount Hua, one of the Nine Orthodox Sects, was founded by Hao Datong, one of the Seven Disciples of Wang Chongyang, the founder of Quanzhen. And the Zhongnan Sect, also located in Shaanxi Province, had risen to prominence by absorbing the displaced members of the Quanzhen Sect after its decline.
Even the Qingcheng Sect, a sect with a long and storied history dating back to the Three Kingdoms era, and the Kunlun Sect, geographically isolated from the Central Plains, had been influenced by Quanzhen, to varying degrees.
That was why Quanzhen’s internal energy cultivation technique was known as the Orthodox and Upright Method, the true and proper path of Daoism.
In essence, the martial world of the past wasn’t dominated by the Nine Orthodox Sects, but by a triumvirate: Shaolin, Quanzhen, and the Beggars’ Sect.
While there was one outlier, the Quanzhen Sect held a position of immense prestige within the martial world.
Unfortunately, that very prestige had led to its downfall, as the remaining disciples, consumed by greed, engaged in a bitter, unseemly feud over the sect’s resources,
becoming a laughingstock, their once-proud legacy tarnished. But it had once been a truly great sect.
Wang Meiyang, who introduced herself as the successor of the fallen Quanzhen Sect, looked down at the kneeling Mancheon, her arms crossed, her expression cold and disdainful.
“The light footwork technique you used in the play was undoubtedly the Golden Goose Technique of the Quanzhen Sect. Don’t play dumb. Who taught you Quanzhen martial arts?”
‘I’m screwed’, Mancheon thought.
He had assumed there wouldn’t be any copyright issues with a defunct sect’s techniques, so he had been using them freely. And now, a descendant had appeared.
But he couldn’t panic. He had to remain calm and count prime numbers.
Prime numbers, divisible only by one and themselves, solitary numbers, gave him courage.
Even if it rained poisonous frogs, as long as he counted prime numbers, he would survive.
But actually counting prime numbers here would only prolong the situation and likely earn him a flick to the forehead, so he quickly concocted a story, a mix of truth and lies, explaining how he had acquired the technique.
“So… you’re saying a wandering master, moved by your heroism, taught you the technique, but then, ashamed of being associated with the Quanzhen Sect, left without revealing their name?”
“Yes, he was so impressed by my heroic defense of my friend against dozens of thugs, like Zhang Fei at the Battle of Changban, that he took me as his disciple.”
Wang Meiyang narrowed her eyes, listening to his story, then extended a delicate, porcelain-white hand.
“Let me check your pulse. Give me your hand.”
Refusing would be tantamount to admitting he had lied, so he obediently extended his hand.
After a moment, Wang Meiyang withdrew her hand, her expression slightly troubled.
“Hmm… there are other energies mixed in, but… you learned it properly. This isn’t some stolen, half-baked technique. It’s genuine Quanzhen martial arts.”
Well, he had learned it from someone capable of perfectly executing practically every martial art technique in existence.
It might not have come with a certificate of authenticity, but it was the real deal.
Believing he had indeed learned the technique from a Quanzhen master, Wang Meiyang’s tone softened slightly, her suspicion easing.
“I… apologize for my earlier accusation.”
He was relieved she hadn’t realized he had learned it from a criminal, but
she was surprisingly trusting for someone with such a sharp gaze and formidable martial arts skills. It seemed she was rather naive, sheltered. Even her clothes looked… homespun, like those of a country girl.
But… the Quanzhen Sect?
The Orthodox and Upright Internal Energy Cultivation Method, a hybrid technique that blended Daoist and Buddhist principles, allowing him to learn and execute any martial art, as long as it wasn’t excessively biased towards yin or yang.
The Emptiness Illumination Fist, a technique that embodied the essence of “emptiness leads to enlightenment,” neutralizing an opponent’s strength and creating openings for a counterattack.
And the Golden Goose Technique, a reliable, versatile light footwork technique that had saved his skin countless times.
He hadn’t thought much of it before, but now, considering them as a whole, the Quanzhen Sect’s martial arts were undeniably powerful.
He looked at Wang Meiyang, who was now looking up at him, her posture slightly hunched, and began to calculate.
He was planning to stay in this town for a few days, and here before him was a direct descendant of the Quanzhen Sect…
Perhaps becoming Sima Mancheon, the genius Daoist who deceived even the heavens, wasn’t such a bad idea after all.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
No way! He’s gonna get a teaching from a descendant of ruined sect🥹
More power ups!