Chapter 35: Who Forged the Primordial Chaos into the Seed of Dao?

The people on the shore erupted in thunderous cheers.

Although no one knew if not a single bamboo stalk had been missed.

But Zhong Jinqiu maintained that vortex, clearly striking every bamboo stem caught in the surrounding currents.

After such a long duration, everyone could sense the number far exceeded Wu Zewa’s level.

Abang curiously leaned over to Wu Zhaizhu and asked, “Just now, that old man—was that sorcery or martial art?”

“That’s martial art. A fist technique.”

Wu Zhaizhu clapped his hands, his gaze fixed on Zhong Jinqiu. “Truly a wondrous fist technique!”

Wu Zewa’s fist technique was indeed superb at resisting and piercing through water.

But Taiji Quan was the very art most adept at borrowing power from water.

Zhong Jinqiu had also reached the realm of “Food as Immortality,” that exquisite control over force making each bamboo’s deflection in the water perfectly precise.

If this contest hadn’t taken place in the river, but instead in another setting—say, with arrows shot randomly, forcing the challenger to count how many he could deflect barehanded—

then Zhong Jinqiu, whose hands were still not fully healed, would likely not have been Wu Zewa’s match.

Wu Zewa had just realized this too, his eyes flickering with reluctant frustration.

But he remembered the rules had been set by the Wu family village; he could not claim anyone had gained an unfair advantage.

Wu Zewa sighed, then began clapping for Zhong Jinqiu.

The rule for the Three Trials was one match per day.

Chu Tianshu stepped forward and inserted needles into Zhong Jinqiu’s hands.

Though borrowing power from water didn’t cause the same hand damage as clashing with a strong opponent, his repeated bursts of force while breaking the bamboo still hindered his recovery.

The crowd gradually dispersed during this time, ordinary clan members returning to the village.

Only the dozen or so men who often accompanied Wu Zhaizhu remained.

“I didn’t expect you to win the first trial so easily.”

Wu Zhaizhu said, “My feelings are complicated—are these all the experts you brought back from Jingcheng?”

Cai Shanjun replied calmly, “Three of them were merely chance encounters—they happened to be willing to lend me a hand.”

Wu Zhaizhu’s gaze brightened slightly: “It seems you haven’t lost your luck—but tomorrow and the day after will be harder than today.”

Chu Tianshu turned to look: “After watching today’s match, I’m already eager.”

Wu Tugu responded loudly: “Good! I ate five meals today and slept soundly all night—tomorrow you’ll see the strongest, most spirited me!”

As soon as he finished speaking, he didn’t linger, turning on his heel and walking away.

Wu Zhaizhu and the others laughed: “Then we’ll see you tomorrow.”

Chu Tianshu looked at Cai Shanjun: “You should return to rest too. Old Yu and Xiao Huo—you two were severely depleted before; use these days to recover properly.”

Ma the Shopkeeper nodded: “Yes—even if we truly win the Cloud Flute, we still have to cross the river, and who knows how much energy that will drain.”

Cai Shanjun sighed: “A physician’s words cannot be ignored.”

He gazed at the river, in good spirits, and murmured softly, “Who forged the primordial chaos into the seed of Dao? It seems I must bear this seed of foolish slumber.”

Ma the Shopkeeper smiled knowingly: “The opening verse of Chapter Five of Dream of the Red Chamber says: ‘Who forged the primordial chaos into the seed of passion?’”

“I find the word ‘passion’ in tales of young lovers too damaging—it’s better to be a fool who sleeps peacefully.”

Cai Shanjun’s expression brightened: “You’ve studied Dream of the Red Chamber too?”

Ma the Shopkeeper waved his hand: “I merely enjoy reading miscellaneous books. I study sorcery; I prefer Zibuyu and Notes from the Thatched Cottage of Microscopic Observations over Dream of the Red Chamber.”

Cai Shanjun said: “If you enjoy tales of spirits and monsters, try the Annals of the Eastern Zhou—there’s both the grand sweep of history and the eerie strangeness, enough to send a chill down your spine even in daylight.”

As they chatted, they walked together toward the village.

Old Yu and Xiao Huo exchanged glances: “Is the Duke in good spirits because his health has improved and he won today’s match—or because someone finally understood his words?”

Xiao Huo hesitated: “We can always respond when the Duke speaks to us.”

Old Yu asked: “How do we respond?”

Both fell silent. They couldn’t even trace the origin of phrases like “forged the primordial chaos.”

So had they been missing much of what he said all along?

Zhong Jinqiu stared at Ma the Shopkeeper’s back: “Wasn’t it originally my duty to repay his kindness? Why is this old man now so cheerful in conversation?”

“Ah, Uncle Zhong, don’t overthink it—we can talk about fist manuals; they won’t understand anyway.”

Chu Tianshu gazed at the flowing water and recited a few lines from the Taiji Quan verses.

At first Zhong Jinqiu paid no mind, but after listening a few moments, he suddenly sensed something wrong—his expression turned serious.

Chu Tianshu stood on the bank, hands behind his back, reciting like chanting scripture for a full half-hour.

Only then did Zhong Jinqiu snap back to awareness, startled: “What is this?!”

Others who hadn’t trained in the Golden Toad School’s Taiji Quan probably wouldn’t grasp the depth of these verses.

What Chu Tianshu had just recited was clearly using the Golden Toad School’s Taiji Quan as a vessel, yet infused with vast amounts of fist manual content Zhong Jinqiu had never heard before.

Yet it was exquisitely precise, deeply harmonious with the Golden Toad School’s Taiji Quan.

“Besides that Beibei Fist manual, have you seen any other Taiji fragments?”

Zhong Jinqiu’s expression was strange: “Just what is your origin… never mind, it doesn’t matter.”

Chu Tianshu smiled: “Indeed—what matters most now is that we can gain real, tangible benefits from it.”

Zhong Jinqiu pondered: “Judging by the spirit of this fist method, I’m confident I can master it thoroughly—but it would take months. For now, I can only gain some insight into technique.”

Gaining insight into technique was already excellent.

Though Zhong Jinqiu had attained the realm of Food as Immortality, his previous training limited him—he couldn’t fully unleash his body’s potential in combat.

If he could fully comprehend the combat techniques of the Golden Toad Palm Thunder, the benefits would be immediate.

Chu Tianshu felt a quiet regret—he could recite the fist manual to others, but he could not transmit the “correct” feeling he held in his mind.

He had the guidance of a supreme master, yet could not become one himself.

To precisely describe that feeling was simply too difficult.

As Chu Tianshu pondered, he inserted needles into himself.

Zhong Jinqiu noticed a needle pierce his waist and ribs, startled: “What’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing. I’m experimenting with a new training method.”

Chu Tianshu explained: “My acupuncture technique comes from shamanic medicine; it overlaps little with Beibei Fist training.”

“But the Golden Toad School’s Taiji Quan manual contains many methods of stimulating acupoints through massage to invigorate the internal organs.”

The Golden Toad Palm Thunder went even deeper and more detailed in this regard.

“I thought—maintaining force like a needle is hard. What if I use my acupuncture foundation as a reference to verify it? Might it be more effective?”

Chu Tianshu smiled: “I’ve been pondering this since last night—it feels promising.”

The token’s simulation does not incorporate magical scriptures.

But Chu Tianshu could seek similarities and differences himself, attempting to accelerate his cultivation in certain areas.

The previous chapter was over four thousand words, but since I’ve always posted two chapters since the novel began, I’ll post another!

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(End of Chapter)