Chapter 10

There has never been absolute fairness in the world; the outcome of a competition is determined by various factors, and life is the longest competition of all, with opponents of all kinds, and often athletes have little preparation. One must constantly enrich oneself from all aspects, training without cease, to avoid elimination.

In the night, Wei Zhuang tiptoed, leapt from the roof, landed on the edge of the opposite roof, then stepped on the tiles and swiftly moved forward, carrying out his agreed‑upon match. However, as he glanced sideways, he saw a figure on that roof running while gesturing at him.

"Hmph!" Wei Zhuang looked at the guy running and greeting him, and couldn't help but let out a cold snort.

"Hehe!" Zhou Shuo clearly caught the snort in the wind, returned with a light laugh, then spread his arms, his whole body like a white crane spreading its wings; with a flap he glided a great distance, his toes tapping the tiled roof, running alongside Wei Zhuang on the same roof. As the match has no absolute fairness, sometimes playing to one's strengths and avoiding weaknesses is also a necessary tactic.

In lightness skill, Zhou Shuo could certainly admit he was inferior to Wei Zhuang, but in terms of bodily application he far surpassed Wei Zhuang, especially since the Flying Spirit Soft Bone Body and Pine Crane Longevity Fist he cultivated excelled in agile body techniques. Although he did not know the exact destination, he kept close behind Wei Zhuang while running, ready to overtake at the final moment.

Faced with Zhou Shuo's thought, Wei Zhuang flickered, trying to pull some distance, but was tightly held, so he could only give up. Just as Zhou Shuo didn't know where the Liu mansion was, this trip to the Liu mansion had a purpose besides the match; he couldn't waste time on this.

As their sashes fluttered, Zhou Shuo and Wei Zhuang jumped down from the wall at the same moment, landing lightly on the ground, and almost simultaneously smelled a faint scent of blood. Wei Zhuang's figure flashed and he leapt out, and Zhou Shuo followed without hesitation. This was already the Liu mansion, but the match was not over, and its target naturally was to land on the current master of the Liu mansion.

The entire Liu mansion was silent; all its servants had been killed, only one place still had living people—a destination obvious to both. Zhou Shuo and Wei Zhuang simultaneously launched a sprint toward a bedroom. When they saw the bedroom window, almost at the same instant Zhou Shuo spread his arms and pushed off with his legs, his body shooting toward the wall's window, while Wei Zhuang also launched himself forward, but in terms of body positioning he lagged one step behind Zhou Shuo, his explosive power unable to catch up.

"Hehehe!" Zhou Shuo watched the lagging Wei Zhuang, a hint of a smile curling his lips, and with a low swoop he had already leapt through the window into the room.

The scene inside the room was a little embarrassing; under lamp and candlelight, a woman with a graceful figure and soft complexion lay panicked on the bed, while before the bed a shadow stood sword in hand. This person's right half of the face was concealed beneath an iron mask with a hooked nose, and he held a longsword dripping with blood, with a corpse lying at his feet.

"Who goes there!" The swordsman sensed the situation the instant Zhou Shuo entered the room.

"Bang!" Zhou Shuo lifted his foot, seeing the wooden board he couldn't control the force on and thus smashed it, he couldn't help but grin; the martial arts of the Yang Spirit World excel in pure close combat, with ferocious explosive power, but in technique and force control they are far inferior to those of the Qin Era World.

Seeing the man who had lifted his foot after smashing the floor and was grinning, the swordsman's eyes flashed with a murderous light; he sprang forward and thrust his longsword. Tonight he had already done too much, killed many, and even nearly died himself, so this sudden intruder was no loss to him.

"Hehe!" Zhou Shuo looked at the assassin whose sword was thrusting at him, the corner of his mouth forming a gap, he slightly lowered his body to evade the blade, crashed into the opponent's embrace, his left hand's five fingers locking the sword‑wielding wrist, with a crack the muscles' bones instantly shattered, the fingers loosened in agony, and the sword in his palm fell.

"Ugh!" The man felt the sharp pain of his shattered arm, let out a muffled groan, his eyes bloodshot, ignoring the pain he forcibly twisted his broken right arm to gain room to move, stretching out his left hand to catch the falling longsword.

It must be said, Zhou Shuo was startled by the will this man erupted with in a life‑or‑death moment; only when the man caught the longsword did Zhou Shuo barely regain his senses, feeling a slight panic, he released his grip on the man and quickly withdrew, his heart beginning to race uncontrollably.

"Hmph!" The man watched Zhou Shuo retreat, his eyes mixing pain with a hint of pride; he gritted his teeth against his right‑arm injury and lunged toward the woman nearby, hoping to seize a hostage, but he did not expect a mountain‑like black shadow to appear before him, followed immediately by a sharp pain in his intact left shoulder, the blade in his hand falling again, and his body being lifted by a feeling of stagnation.

Zhou Shuo barely managed to stand, looking at the man whose left arm had been severed by Wei Zhuang, now hoisted by a single hand choking his neck; he drew a deep breath to regain control of his heartbeat, a flush rising on his face—he had been frightened, indeed knocked down; although he possessed considerable martial skill, he had never experienced true life‑and‑death, lacked a strong will to survive, the feeling of killing could gradually be accepted, but life and death are not something one can simply dismiss.

"Who exactly are you?" The man, both arms disabled, hung in the air by a single hand choking his throat, his face flushed, forced out a question; Wei Zhuang did not reply, and a clear voice answered him.

"Debt collector, you killed someone from the Purple Orchid Pavilion; your only end is to pay with your life!" A seductive figure entered on a fragrant breeze from outside the window, gazing at the man Wei Zhuang held aloft.

"A prostitute and..." The man was unwilling, but his words were cut off mid‑sentence by a powerful finger pinch that broke his throat, his rolled‑up eyes gradually losing focus.

"Today's spectacle was worth watching." Zhou Shuo looked at the man Wei Zhuang had pinched to death, steadied his heartbeat, and felt that his decision to join the plot was correct; secluding oneself to invent techniques does not aid progress—only through ample experience can one advance, even Huang Shang, after sparring with the masters of the Ming Sect, secluded himself for decades before creating the Nine Yin True Classic.

"I didn't expect that." Wei Zhuang tossed the corpse aside, startling the woman behind him into an "Ah!" cry; the more frail and panicked she looked, the maid Zi Nu stepped forward to comfort her—she was the lady of the Liu mansion, surnamed Hu, whom Zi Nu called "Madam Hu".

"What didn't you expect?" Zhou Shuo looked at the guy with a cool face who suddenly spoke, and a few question marks popped up above his head.

"I never imagined how you cultivated your martial arts!" Wei Zhuang looked at Zhou Shuo and uttered a calm remark.

"Interest is the best motivation for learning." Zhou Shuo could sense the teasing in Wei Zhuang's words, yet he felt no anger or embarrassment; on the contrary he felt a quiet pride—though he had not gone through bloody battles, he could still train his martial arts well, what is this, this is talent!

"I understand." Wei Zhuang looked at the unperturbed Zhou Shuo, frowned in thought, and gave a solemn nod.

Soon Han Fei and others also arrived at the Liu mansion; among them was the old man Zhou Shuo had rescued from the Toxic Scorpion Sect's dungeon. Zhou Shuo clearly saw the disheveled old man comforting the lady of the Liu mansion, while the lady looked at him with tears in her eyes, feeling both grief and regret. Moreover, this Liu mansion is the residence of Han State's Left Minister Liu Yi, the recent murder victim in Han State, and the old man is the former Right Minister Li Kai, who ought to have been a couple with Lady Hu, but due to some accidents and conspiracies, their reunion turned out this way.

Although this murder case apparently claimed only the life of Left Minister Liu Yi, it in fact involved many more matters and caused many more deaths, including a maid of the Purple Orchid Pavilion and numerous people from the Liu mansion, upper and lower; yet the lives of these people are not valued by those in power, whose gaze now fixes on the twisting intrigue stirred by this case, and Lady Liu and Li Kai are likewise destined never to renew their former bond.

The night watch at the Liu mansion was sleepless; Zhou Shuo first returned to the Purple Orchid Pavilion with Wei Zhuang, this excitement he joined was a bit disheveled, but the gain was good. After returning to the Purple Orchid Pavilion, Wei Zhuang gave him several bamboo slips—not any specific profound martial art, but a well‑summarized meridian system and martial arts guide, exactly what Zhou Shuo needed.

The human body contains the Eight Extraordinary Meridians and the Twelve Regular Meridians; in this world the key to cultivating Qi lies entirely in these meridians—first sense inner power within the body, then use that inner power to refine the true qi, and when one's skill has matured, open the Conception and Governor Vessels. Among the myriad schools of the martial world, each family and sect has its own methods and practices, but aside from a few extraordinarily special arts, basically none can escape this framework.

The meridians through which martial arts cultivate Qi are like the apertures of immortal martial arts, but they differ: meridians are an abstract existence, qi sensation hard to find, easy to practice after entry yet difficult to master, representing the body's energy linkage, whereas apertures are concrete structures within the body, representing the body's potential, requiring accurate measurement and dedicated cultivation methods; the two are largely similar with minor differences.

Zhou Shuo could originally have sensed the existence of qi channels from medical classics and summed them up, but the booklet Wei Zhuang gave him saved him much effort, allowing him to directly flood his own true qi into the Conception and Governor Vessels; since he had already cultivated both Daoist arts and martial arts to a sufficient level, doing this was like raising a tower to see far—others might need decades to open those vessels, whereas he managed it in a single night.

At the moment he opened the Conception and Governor Vessels in one breath, Zhou Shuo's long‑standing problem of his soul being unable to leave the body was also resolved; his soul could not only exit the body, but unlike the weakness others feel upon first astral projection, his soul burst forth, passed through the stages of night wandering, day wandering, and object driving, and directly attained the stage of manifestation.

Of course, this is also the result of Zhou Shuo's persistent nurturing of mind and spirit with qi and blood; if he continued to nourish for a while and then projected, perhaps he could break the life‑and‑death barrier in one breath and become a ghost immortal directly—there are precedents for this—but it is also fortunate that he did not directly pierce that life‑and‑death gate, for otherwise, lacking the physique of a martial sage to support the gate, his qi and blood would surely be depleted and collapse, and he might then have to undergo corpse‑liberation and reincarnation.