Chapter 39: Insight

The footage is excellent.

Tang Lingwumin must have put in a lot of effort—she picked only high-quality documentaries.

The resolution is maxed out, the production team is top-tier, every frame radiates the beauty of burned budgets.

Several of them have extremely high ratings online and are called the bible of bird enthusiasts.

What pleased Zheng Fa even more was that the cinematographers hid cameras on trees, beside nests, even on cliff faces, and in some cases, attached them directly to the birds themselves.

They got as close as possible to the natural lives of these subjects.

Even setting aside any thought of gaining insight into the Spirit Crane Body, these meticulously crafted documentaries alone were enough to captivate Zheng Fa, this country bumpkin.

One, two…

Every night, Zheng Fa watched these documentaries.

He watched the birds in the footage, observed their daily routines.

He watched them take flight, soar, and land.

Hunt, eat, play.

He felt he saw certain familiar scenes within them—scenes that vaguely resembled the illustrations in the third volume of the Spirit Crane Body, the Spirit Crane Heart Scripture.

But what exactly they were remained just beyond his grasp, like a thin sheet of paper separating him from understanding.

Even after he finished watching all the documentaries, he still couldn’t connect the two.

That night, he idly opened the one set he hadn’t yet watched: The Lost Sky Dominators—Pterosaurs. The opening narration stunned him.

“Among the many hypotheses on the origin of birds, the theory that birds evolved from dinosaurs is most widely accepted by mainstream scholars.”

“So some say birds are close relatives of dinosaurs.”

Zheng Fa blinked, snapped back to reality, still slightly startled.

They really are birds!

“Pterosaurs are long extinct in our world; we cannot know exactly how they lived. But through fossil evidence and observations of bird behavior, we can model and simulate their appearance and movements.”

Zheng Fa stared at the pterosaur model rendered by special effects on screen—suddenly, a series of bizarre images flashed through his mind!

That’s it!

The author of the Spirit Crane Body seemed to have followed the same logic as this documentary: observing the movement patterns and habits of many flying creatures, modeling—no, creating—a never-before-seen creature—a bird-human?

The illustrations in the book gradually aligned with the pterosaur images on screen.

Zheng Fa almost wanted to grab the author by the collar and ask:

You drew this as animation—why didn’t you add a footnote?

…

For several days, Zheng Fa watched documentaries day and night, especially after truly grasping the secret of the Spirit Crane Heart Scripture. He rewatched all the documentaries he’d seen before, breaking down and recombining every illustration from the Spirit Crane Heart Scripture, comparing them to the birds’ movements in the footage, deepening his understanding of these images.

After several nights of sleepless studying, even with his Foundation Establishment-level physical conditioning from the Pine Crane Stance, he grew visibly worn out at school, dark circles beneath his eyes.

“Zheng Fa, what have you been up to lately?” Wang Chen asked, concerned by his appearance.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, haven’t you been sleeping? Why do you look so drained? Are you sick?”

“Oh, I’ve been watching videos these past few nights,” Zheng Fa said, rubbing his face.

“Videos? What kind of videos… you, uh?”

Wang Chen’s expression suddenly turned strange, as if something had just clicked.

“From Tang Lingwumin.”

“From Tang Lingwumin?” Wang Chen looked utterly bewildered.

“That day your phone got taken away by Old Chen.”

Wang Chen twitched his mouth—it was an unforgettable day, and he did remember Tang Lingwumin had sent Zheng Fa a message that day.

But now he had no interest in that—he wore a gleeful, gossiping grin: “Don’t tell me, let me guess!”

“?”

“Is it… the kind without clothes?”

“Why would they wear clothes?”

Zheng Fa was baffled—why was this guy asking such a question?

“The kind with very few people?”

“Hmm… you could say that.”

A strange spark of excitement flashed in Wang Chen’s eyes.

“Indoors?”

“No, mostly outdoors.”

“Tang Lingwumin likes this kind of thing?”

Wang Chen muttered, as if he’d uncovered some earth-shattering secret. He patted Zheng Fa’s shoulder and said with a sigh: “The adult world may be thrilling, but you still need to take care of your health!”

Zheng Fa said nothing, just stared at Wang Chen with a look that said: You’re insane.

Then Wang Chen sighed: “Tang Lingwumin is top of the class, stunningly beautiful, and Old Chen watches her like a hawk. None of the guys in class dare talk to her. But from what I’ve observed, at least half the boys have a crush on her.”

“That many?” Zheng Fa had never paid attention to such things—who liked whom was never in his sphere of concern.

“You’re all about studying—I bet there are way more than you think. I never expected her private hobby would be this intense…” Wang Chen stroked his chin, looking like he’d just gained profound wisdom: “If the whole class found out… tsk tsk…”

“What does ‘tsk tsk’ mean?”

“It would drive the other half of the boys wild!”

Zheng Fa stared at Wang Chen, utterly certain of himself.

For some reason, his words felt contradictory—vulgar, yet strangely logical.

…

The Seventh Young Master saw Zheng Fa even more worn out in his study.

“What’s wrong with you?”

To watch those documentaries, Zheng Fa had barely slept at all during his final two days in the modern world.

“I was contemplating the Spirit Crane Body,” Zheng Fa explained.

The Seventh Young Master exchanged a glance with Gao Yuan beside him and shook his head—he clearly didn’t believe it.

After all, Zheng Fa had already returned the book. How could he contemplate it?

The Seventh Young Master looked at Zheng Fa, sighed, and picked up a book from the shelf behind him, handing it to Zheng Fa.

“What’s this?”

“Forget the Spirit Crane Body. Let me tell you—martial arts has no future. Learn talisman arts with me!” the Seventh Young Master sighed.

Zheng Fa looked at the book—the cover read: The Complete Guide to Talisman Diagrams, Volume One.

“What’s this?”

“Didn’t I tell you about talisman diagrams before?”

Zheng Fa flipped through it—indeed, every page was filled with complex, abstract patterns.

After enduring the mental strain of bird-human imagery, Zheng Fa felt a headache coming on. He put the book down and asked: “If I finish this book, will I understand the Way of Talismans?”

“Ha, finish it? Do you know how many volumes this series has?”

“No idea.”

The Seventh Young Master held up one finger.

“Ten?”

The Seventh Young Master shook his head.

“A hundred?”

“A whole room!” the Seventh Young Master pointed to a side room, voice tinged with despair: “All of these are part of it!”

Zheng Fa turned and stared at the room’s towering bookshelves reaching the ceiling, swallowing hard.

“And this series adds new volumes every year! I’ve been studying since I was a child, and the number of volumes I haven’t read keeps growing!”

The Seventh Young Master’s tone was so pitiful it tugged at the heart.

Zheng Fa truly understood now—this was real, boundless ocean of learning.

“Young Master, what exactly are talisman diagrams?”

“I don’t understand them either,” the Seventh Young Master shook his head. “According to this book, all talisman diagrams originate from Immortal Sect cultivators’ insights into Heaven and Earth, embodying the Great Dao. Many of the earliest talismans were simply drawn with these diagrams.”

“But later, some cultivators noticed that although different-looking diagrams produced identical effects, so they proposed the concept of the Primordial Diagram, trying to find their commonalities.”

“And these keep appearing because Immortal Sect cultivators are still discovering new talisman diagrams every day…”

Zheng Fa suddenly understood—the reason for the room full of books.

“Brute-force enumeration…”