Chapter 82

Chen Yan thought for a moment… the old grandma’s cultivation method was absolutely impossible to teach her.

But considering she came to visit yesterday, brought gifts, and brought me such a big business opportunity…

Chen Yan noted down the most obvious and major errors in qi circulation he had just heard and remembered from the method, then told the woman to bring paper and pen, and immediately corrected several lines of the incantation, writing them on the paper.

“After listening to your method, these few points are the biggest errors—I’ve corrected them for you.”

Chu Keqing’s eyes sparkled; she snatched the paper Chen Yan had written on and clutched it like a priceless treasure!

“Thank you, Elder!” Chu Keqing took a deep breath and glanced down at the paper.

Hmm… this Elder’s handwriting isn’t very good.

The calligraphy on the earlier prescription was elegant and fluid.

Why is the handwriting on this paper so terrible?

Hmm, perhaps this Elder is a master who excels in brush writing but dislikes using hard pens.

But when she finally read the words and murmured them a few times, her eyes grew brighter and brighter!

She had practiced her sect’s method for twenty years, memorized it inside and out, and for years had felt stuck—certain qi circulation problems had always eluded her understanding.

Now, these corrections struck Chu Keqing with a sudden shock—each word, each phrase, seemed to pierce straight to the very core of her long-standing cultivation blockages!!

Chu Keqing’s hands trembled slightly: “Elder’s great kindness—Yun Sect as a whole is forever grateful! From now on, Chu Keqing is at your complete disposal, without hesitation!”

If not for being in the car, Chu Keqing would have knelt down right then and there to kowtow to Chen Yan.

Chen Yan’s guidance was an immense boon to Chu Keqing!

Fixing the method meant Chu Keqing could now cultivate far more smoothly—many errors that had blocked her for years vanished entirely.

More broadly, once Yun Sect gained this corrected method, its lineage would grow even stronger!

For just these few lines Chen Yan had written, Chu Keqing would have gladly traded everything she owned.

(Such a great favor—I must properly thank Elder Chen Yan when I return!) Chu Keqing silently vowed to herself!

Chen Yan showed no expression: “Hmm. The method is done. Now recite the ‘Manual of Techniques’ for me.”

“Yes! Yes!” Chu Keqing’s heart leapt with joy; she carefully tucked the paper away—then, still uneasy, pulled out her phone, photographed the text, saved it securely, folded the paper, and stowed it in her bag.

After sitting back properly, Chu Keqing steadied her nerves and began reciting her sect’s “Manual of Techniques.”

The first line was, as expected: “The wheel of fate turns, karma returns…”

Chen Yan prepared himself; as Chu Keqing recited, he feigned lowering his head, half-closing his eyes to listen, avoiding letting her see his face.

Sure enough, after a few lines, Chen Yan’s expression remained calm, but his mind churned with deeper suspicion!

This…

This is damn near the “Qi Yun Zhou Shu” I learned! But… it’s been butchered beyond recognition.

After hearing the entire recitation, every third line of Yun Sect’s “Manual of Techniques” bore some resemblance to a line from Chen Yan’s “Qi Yun Zhou Shu.”

It sounded as if someone had seen the “Qi Yun Zhou Shu,” memorized only a third of it incompletely, then invented the remaining two-thirds based on their own assumptions.

When Chu Keqing finished, she looked at Chen Yan with eager anticipation.

Chen Yan paused in thought, then asked slowly: “Who created this ‘Manual of Techniques’?”

Chu Keqing answered cautiously: “It was created by our sect’s founding ancestor.”

This man has definitely seen the “Qi Yun Zhou Shu!”

Chen Yan was certain of this judgment.

But I wonder if he has any connection to the old grandma?

This time, however, Chen Yan did not correct or revise the “Manual of Techniques.”

He could fix the earlier method—it didn’t involve his own teachings.

But this “Manual of Techniques” clearly came from the “Qi Yun Zhou Shu.” If he corrected it, he’d essentially be giving her a genuine copy of the “Qi Yun Zhou Shu.”

Regarding the old grandma’s inherited scriptures, Chen Yan wouldn’t dare act so carelessly.

After thinking, he said slowly: “This manual involves too many complex elements—I can’t fully grasp it right now. Let me study it thoroughly before I say more.”

Chu Keqing was disappointed, but quickly masked it—having received Elder Chen Yan’s help correcting her sect’s method was already a tremendous blessing and gain.

One must not be greedy; the sect’s teachings say: The wheel of fate turns, karma returns!

Receiving such a great favor from Elder Chen Yan was already immense fortune—don’t dare demand more!

·

Inside the car, as they exchanged cultivation insights, over three hours passed swiftly.

The business car exited the highway ramp, slowed down at the toll station, and came to a stop.

Before the toll station, a sedan was parked by the roadside; a man stood there waving.

The female assistant pulled over; the man hurried over.

He wore a suit, looked about thirty, of average build, with ordinary features but an exceptionally composed demeanor.

The female assistant rolled down the window; Chu Keqing glanced at him and nodded: “Zhao Assistant.”

“Madam Zi,” Zhao Assistant bowed respectfully: “Director He sent me to meet you. He’s waiting for you at his ancestral home in the countryside.”

Chu Keqing nodded: “Good. Drive ahead and lead the way.”

After the window rolled up, Zhao Assistant went to the front car and sat down; moments later, the two vehicles set off in sequence, heading down the provincial road…

Director He Jianbo’s hometown was in the countryside.

After exiting the highway, they took a provincial road, then descended to a lower-class road.

They passed through the county, reached the town below, then headed into the countryside.

About another hour passed; it was past one in the afternoon when the car slowly pulled into a rural village.

Beside the road ran a small stream, crossed by a cement bridge barely ten meters long, barely wide enough for one car.

Beyond the bridge lay a village.

The village wasn’t large; on both sides of the road stood typical rural self-built houses, some new, some old, but the village paths were remarkably level—narrow, yet wide enough for two cars to pass side by side, with the edges neatly compacted.

“This is He Village—Director He’s hometown. Over half the villagers share the He surname; the rest are mostly related to the He family,” Chu Keqing explained to Chen Yan; “After Director He became wealthy, he gave back to the village—he paid to have the roads built.”

“Hmm.” Chen Yan squinted out the window.

The nearby rural self-built houses, the stray dogs and chickens ambling along the roadside.

The scallions, garlic, and leeks planted near farmhouse courtyards…

This scene stirred in Chen Yan a familiar sense of closeness—he had lived with the old grandma for years in just such an environment.

Director He’s home was the largest house in the village, clearly distinct from all others.

A two-story Huizhou-style building of blue bricks and black tiles, with a large courtyard.

It occupied at least three or four mu of land.

The house looked nothing like typical rural self-built homes—those usually had thin walls.

The He family’s residence was solid and sturdy.

Two sedans were already parked in the courtyard—both black Mercedes-Benzes.

When Chu Keqing’s convoy arrived, four cars filled the courtyard without crowding it; there was even a row of side rooms, likely storage sheds.

The courtyard featured a pond, a pavilion, and a grape arbor; two well-bred Suzhou dogs lay lazily yawning in the shade—only rising to stroll nearby as the cars pulled in.

The main hall’s door stood wide open, revealing a square, orderly interior.

As the car stopped, Chu Keqing and Chen Yan stepped out and saw a man standing at the hall’s entrance, gazing at them with a solemn expression.

Chu Keqing whispered a greeting to Chen Yan, then hurried forward.

“Director He, hello.”

The man’s face was grave, his brow tinged with faint sorrow and anxiety; he took a deep breath, extended his hand to shake Chu Keqing’s: “Teacher Chu, thank you for coming.”

He did not address Chu Keqing as “Madam Zi”—a subtle display of his own status.

Chen Yan stood behind Chu Keqing, studying Director He closely.

Average build, physically strong, no middle-aged paunch—he clearly exercised regularly; though his face showed slight fatigue, his overall complexion was good, his breath steady—he likely practiced regular aerobic exercise.

He should be nearing fifty, yet his hair was jet black, his face held few wrinkles—his affluent lifestyle had made him look ten years younger than his age.

His gaze carried natural authority—he was clearly accustomed to giving orders.

Chen Yan immediately noticed a jade pendant hanging from Director He’s neck, carved with what appeared to be Guanyin.

As the saying goes: men wear Guanyin, women wear Buddha.

The jade was emerald green—likely top-grade emerald. More surprisingly, Chen Yan faintly sensed a trace of qi flowing within it, faint but undeniable.

Director He only greeted Chu Keqing; he glanced at Chen Yan behind her and gave a slight nod.

When Chu Keqing introduced Chen Yan, she called him merely a young disciple of her sect—the same cover story they’d agreed upon in the car.

Chen Yan’s face was too young; calling him an Elder would be too shocking and require endless explanations—too much trouble.

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