Chapter 50: May the Spring Breeze Come as Promised

Oh my, the person who wrote this fist manual really has a big mouth.

I beat all of you, and I’ve written down the essence of your fist styles in this book—your descendants who can’t teach properly can just come read my manual.

How arrogant is that?!

Even if someone in his prime could single-handedly defeat Shaolin, by the time he grew old, his disciples might not produce enough worthy successors.

Shaolin, as an old-established major sect, has accumulated countless monks and lay followers—if they came to cause trouble, how could they possibly withstand it?

Set aside those who only eat vegetarian meals and chant sutras; other monks, since they train martial arts, inevitably carry some bloodlust, some temper, and four parts of fierce ambition.

But this man who wrote the fist manual wasn’t afraid at all.

Because he wasn’t a martial artist.

He was a general who fought campaigns across the south and north—Yu Dayou of the Ming Dynasty, once paired with another general, Qi Jiguang, as the Dragon and Tiger.

Qi Jiguang excelled at reforming military equipment and organizing combined assault formations, first sweeping the coast, then holding the Great Wall—much of his success came from his formations and weaponry.

But Yu Dayou’s elite troops used only ordinary, common weapons—he relied solely on his profound martial foundation and unique insights to guide and train them into a large group of fierce soldiers.

Though he was a battlefield general, there was a time when he didn’t even use spears or swords, weapons of slaughter.

He merely carried a staff, wrapped in iron at both ends and bound with copper rings, and went to fight the Japanese pirates, beating them to death with sheer blows.

Faced with such a man, Shaolin’s old, shrewd abbots had no thought of revenge—instead, they inspired a group of monks to follow Yu Dayou in fighting the pirates, and even invited him to refine Shaolin staff techniques, creating a celebrated tale.

After receiving the fist manual, Chu Tianshu immersed himself in it, unaware that he had sat down at the table and spent half the day reading in the courtyard.

This manual contained not only many training methods and herbal formulas for body cleansing, but also examples of fights with Shaolin monks.

With just a few strokes, it captured the subtle exchanges and counter-techniques between opponents.

Clearly, Yu Dayou wasn’t just a master of martial arts—he also had exceptional literary skill.

Chu Tianshu turned to the last page and only then snapped out of his trance—he’d forgotten to greet Master Li and had read the entire book through.

Only a few butterflies remained in the courtyard; the rest had followed Master Li to other parts of the headquarters.

“Huh?”

Chu Tianshu looked around and noticed only Zhong Jinqiu still at the table. “Where did everyone go?”

Zhong Jinqiu was staring at a pickled radish strip in his hand, seemingly dissatisfied with the kitchen’s flavor. He replied, “Didn’t you give them the herbal formulas? They’ve gone to brew the medicine.”

“Master Li smiled all over his face, but he’s a man of decisive action.”

Zhong Jinqiu looked up. “Old Ma said you’re leaving?”

Chu Tianshu nodded. “In the next couple of days.”

Zhong Jinqiu chuckled. “I think he’s reluctant to see you go, but he’s afraid showing any sentiment might make him stay longer and chat more with you.”

Chu Tianshu said, “Though we’ve known each other only a short time, we’ve been through a lot. Uncle Ma and Uncle Zhong—they feel like family elders to me.”

“These two secret manuals aren’t just my payment—they’re also meant for you two old uncles to study. General Cai will surely approve.”

“You’ve left your long-term retreat and moved to a new place—you need something to pass the time. With such treasures to keep you company, you won’t be bored.”

Zhong Jinqiu laughed heartily. “Old Ma won’t be bored—he just agreed to Master Li’s offer to become an instructor at the Martial Academy.”

Chu Tianshu smiled. “That’s good news.”

The total quantity of mental energy cultivated by a sorcerer depends on personal cultivation, but its purity and inherent nature are largely determined by the cultivation scripture.

If two lineages produce mental energy of similar quality but vastly different characteristics,

then a disciple of one lineage trying to learn the other’s spells would be extremely inefficient.

That’s why Chu Tianshu never mentioned teaching Ma the Medical Spell secrets, and Ma never taught Chu the Firebird Daoist’s control techniques.

But if the new lineage’s mental energy is clearly superior to one’s original scripture,

one can ascend from low to high, using the superior to guide the inferior, allowing relatively smooth exploration of both old and new methods.

Judging from General Cai’s own sorcery level, the Martial Academy must contain profound lineage transmissions.

Since Ma is joining, he’ll be teaching the students—but it’s also a chance for his own advancement.

“And what about you, Uncle Zhong?”

Chu Tianshu urged, “I know Uncle Ma hasn’t truly accepted his age, but you’re more easygoing. Since you’re easygoing, when such an invitation comes, why not go with the flow...”

Zhong Jinqiu waved his hand. “Don’t bother persuading me. If Old Ma’s going, I’ll go too, eventually.”

“But you suggesting I learn your ‘Break Shaolin’ manual—that’s not urgent. That book is indeed the highest fist manual in the Martial Academy, but it’s not the best fit for me right now.”

“The Palm Thunder technique is what’s truly caught my interest lately—it’s the one I should focus on deeply.”

Zhong Jinqiu stood up and walked to the wall, picking up a wooden staff.

“Seven-foot spear, eight-foot staff—the long spear is twelve feet and eight inches!”

“For ordinary people, longer spears are better—but for a qiao-opening fist master, the longer the weapon, the harder it is to control the force reaching its tip.”

“When I killed the old eunuch, I used a bamboo spear. The force transmitted through it wasn’t precise enough—I wasted a lot of energy, and later my arms swelled badly because I couldn’t control the release and absorption of force smoothly.”

“Now look at me.”

He swept the staff in a single motion.

Butterflies in the flowerbed took flight.

Yizhou was warm—even in autumn, many flowers still bloomed beautifully.

As the butterflies flew up, several delicate purple-red azalea petals were swept up by the staff’s wind.

Zhong Jinqiu flicked the staff’s tip in a circle, as if capturing one petal within it.

While other petals drifted down, only that one petal, affected by the air current, spun endlessly without falling.

Zhong Jinqiu moved his body, the staff’s tip jabbing, flicking, sweeping.

That single petal spun and rolled, staying within inches of the staff’s tip, following him all the way to the wall.

By the wall stood a large pile of bricks, taller than a man—guards from the headquarters often tied bricks to spearheads with ropes to train arm strength.

The petal floated to the front of the brick pile.

Zhong Jinqiu pulled back his wrist, then released it—the staff’s tip thrust forward, pinning the petal to the brick.

On the other side of the brick pile, two bricks exploded with a bang, flying outward.

Zhong Jinqiu suddenly retracted the staff and caught the falling petal in his hand.

Chu Tianshu rose to inspect it—the fresh petal was slightly indented in the center, but had no tear or damage.

“Excellent!”

Chu Tianshu’s eyes gleamed with admiration. He clapped his hands without thinking.

In combat ability, Chu Tianshu was already superior to Zhong Jinqiu.

But in controlling force, he was still far from this level.

Chu Tianshu even felt that if Zhong Jinqiu possessed his own level of physical cultivation, when facing Deputy Officer Zhou or Colonel Xu, he could simply ignore whether they wore hard or soft armor.

He could strike as if they wore nothing at all—every technique would land with real damage.

“I’ve only just reached this level recently. And my strength is overall less than yours, so it’s easier for me to control.”

Zhong Jinqiu’s expression was calm, but his tone was earnest.

“You won’t be satisfied with just Dragon Coiling Body and Food as Immortality forever—but you must first walk your current steps firmly before you can move forward more smoothly.”

Chu Tianshu smiled. “I understand.”

He would keep reading and memorizing the ‘Break Shaolin’ manual for now, but he wouldn’t rush to focus on practicing it yet.

After all, his ‘Toad Skill Palm Thunder’ wasn’t fully perfected yet—his internal organs—liver, gallbladder, spleen, kidneys—hadn’t been fully cultivated.

Even if the Palm Thunder’s value was lower than ‘Break Shaolin,’ he had the correct internal sensation of it in his mind—far more effective than just studying the manual.

As for ‘Break Shaolin,’ he could wait until later to simulate it once, then directly transmit it into his mind.

Like receiving instruction from a top-tier master, then practicing.

Zhong Jinqiu had gone to great lengths demonstrating this technique precisely to give Chu Tianshu a warning.

Seeing Chu Tianshu’s clear, calm gaze—truly neither arrogant nor impatient—he finally relaxed.

At that moment, a faint herbal scent drifted into the courtyard.

“Medicine’s ready!”

Ma, using a cloth to grip the handle, carried a steaming herbal pot toward them, muttering as he walked.

“Little Chu, check this medicine—how’s the fire control? If it’s not thick enough, I’ll take it back and boil it longer.”

Cai Shanjun and Li Genyuan both walked over.

Chu Tianshu laughed helplessly. “You could’ve just called me over to check—it’s not necessary to carry the pot back and forth.”

Cai Shanjun chuckled. “Ma’s just being convenient. As for us, walking around is good for the body anyway.”

Chu Tianshu lifted the lid, entered his spirit-opening state, and examined the medicine’s potency.

Shamanic mental energy could only give a rough sense of medicinal effect—ancient shamans sometimes misjudged, accidentally consuming poisonous herbs.

But since he himself had prescribed the formula and knew every herb, his overall judgment was much easier.

“It’s ready.”

Chu Tianshu lifted the pot, pouring a thin stream of dark-brown decoction slowly into a bowl—the sound continuous and delicate.

Pouring this way, by the time the bowl was full, the temperature had cooled to a drinkable level.

Cai Shanjun took the bowl, tasted it at his lips, and his expression changed slightly.

Bitterness alone wasn’t the issue—it was an indescribable taste.

He turned his head aside, took a deep breath, then gulped it down in loud swallows.

Just then, Captain Xie hurried over.

“Your Excellency, a telegram from Sichuan!”

Li Genyuan took it first, read it, and immediately broke into a broad smile. “Shanjun, Liu Yanqi has moved!”

Chu Tianshu asked curiously, “Who is Liu Yanqi?”

Li Genyuan explained at length.

Bashu also has a Martial Arts Hall; its current principal is Liu Zhao, courtesy name Yanqi.

In his youth, he studied at the Military Academy in Wudu, learning advanced military subjects and thoroughly reading ancient military texts, able to recite entire chapters of classics like The Art of War and The Wuzi from memory.

Not only was his academic performance outstanding, but he was also renowned throughout the academy for his upright conduct, strict moral discipline, avoidance of vices, and extraordinary endurance and perseverance.

After Grandpa Sun rose in rebellion, he joined him; after becoming principal of the Martial Arts Hall, he cultivated wide friendships and nurtured talented individuals, harboring deep strategic plans and becoming firmly entrenched.

He remains close friends with Cai Shanjun; when Cai Shanjun was farming, Liu Yanqi visited his home three times, urging him to join the army.

Liu Yanqi has long disapproved of many of the current Military Governor of Bashu’s actions and conduct, but has held back, waiting for the right moment.

“I never expected he would strike now.”

Cai Shanjun put down the medicine bowl, ignoring the bitterness in his mouth, and took the telegram to read closely.

“It turns out there’s been a strange case in Bashu lately—rumors say it’s the work of ghosts and spirits from the Han era. Liu Zhixiang didn’t investigate properly but secretly engaged in heretical worship, giving Yanqi the opening he needed.”

“Liu Zhixiang is nominally his cousin; he’s terrible at training troops and fighting, but excels at political maneuvering and has no shortage of loyal followers.”

“Let’s set out immediately for Kunming, send telegrams across the nation, uphold justice, rally public support, and lend Yanqi a helping hand.”

Cai Shanjun fell silent for a long while after saying this.

Everyone present seemed to sense the coming storm.

No one knew whether this storm would tear the banana leaves and scatter the flowers, or wash away the dust and renew the mountains with fresh clarity.

“Gentlemen.”

Chu Tianshu gazed toward the horizon, drew a deep breath, and said, “That divination on General’s Mountain—the heavens never misled him; it forged our bond.”

“Now the General’s aura and strength are recovering—what obstacle can’t we overcome?”

“When I return here next time, I’ll bring you all delicacies from my hometown—we’ll all be together, pointing at rivers and mountains as one.”

Cai Shanjun turned to look at him and laughed aloud.

“Exactly. Heaven has been kind to me—why should we trouble ourselves?”

Cai Shanjun bowed and said, “Dr. Chu, may your journey be as vast and mighty as a gale sweeping ten thousand li, and as gentle as spring wind returning—until we meet again!”

(End of Chapter)