Chapter 26: Divine Weapon!

The old man, seeing Li Guanyi agree, smiled and nodded.

“Shuangtao, come as well. What about Changqing?”

Xue Changqing waved his arm dismissively. “I won’t go. Grandpa, your chats are always boring—I’ll stay here and keep shooting arrows!” He was eager, like a child who’d just gotten his favorite toy, gripping his bow and activating his internal Qi.

Just moments ago, his palms had trembled slightly after the final shot, yet now they were already recovering, ready to draw the bow again.

Li Guanyi raised an eyebrow and urged, “Excess is as bad as deficiency. Be careful not to injure yourself.”

The old man, noticing Li Guanyi’s gaze, said casually, “My Xue family’s core internal art, the Divine Bow Heart Scripture, excels uniquely in the five senses and the arms. Changqing began cultivating at five and has already made progress. You needn’t worry about him.”

“This boy is stubborn, but since he loves training, let him be. Young Master, please.”

“I’m curious—I have many things I’d like to discuss with you.”

The old man turned and walked out through the main gate.

Bai Hu swept its tail lazily and followed along.

Li Guanyi moved in sync with the Bai Hu apparition, staying within the optimal range for accumulating jade fluid in the bronze tripod.

He suspected the tripod’s accumulation capacity and absorption range were tied to his own strength.

It was already clearly stronger than during the Mountain God Temple phase.

Xue Shuangtao gave her brother another warning before hurrying after them, closing the door. The sound of arrows faded beyond the threshold—likely, the old man had been listening right there.

Xue Shuangtao stepped close and grabbed her grandfather’s arm. “Grandpa, when did you get here?”

The old man patted his granddaughter’s hair and smiled warmly. “Hmph, I’ve been here a long time. I didn’t enter, fearing I’d disrupt Changqing’s archery. None of you noticed me.”

“But this kind of numerical art—I’ve never seen anything like it. If everyone could do this, wouldn’t everyone become divine archers, hitting every shot?”

??. Is he planning to teach all Xue family disciples? Li Guanyi replied, “Impossible.”

“I succeeded just now because it was a stationary target, Changqing has the Xue family’s art, and we’re in the Xue family’s archery range. What if it rains? What if the wind blows? And the bows here are perfectly tuned.”

“But the key point—if you’re holding a bow in combat, your opponent isn’t a target. They move.”

The old man, intrigued, asked, “Then why did you tell Changqing that numerical art can aid martial cultivation?”

Li Guanyi answered, “Teaching according to aptitude.”

“Explain.”

“Since he loves martial arts, guiding him toward numerical art through that path naturally yields greater results.”

The old man laughed in surprise. “‘Teaching according to aptitude’—that’s a fresh phrase. I’ve never heard it before.”

“Did you invent it yourself?”

Li Guanyi said, “Before I came here, I met an old man surnamed Kong who said it.”

The old man pondered the phrase, then sighed in admiration. “These four words surpass countless so-called private tutors and schoolmasters today. The world truly is vast—I’ve never heard of such a person.”

“Then, Young Master, where did you learn this numerical art?”

As he asked, the old man smiled. The Bai Hu apparition glanced at Li Guanyi, curious but not hostile. Li Guanyi’s heart stirred, and he smiled lightly. “It was also during my flight—I met an old man on the road who taught me.”

Xue Shuangtao widened her eyes, staring at the boy who lied as naturally as breathing—she felt as if she’d met a new Li Guanyi.

Your sword technique was taught by a stranger on the road. Your teaching philosophy came from an old man on the road.

Even the numerical art?

Even she could tell he was making it up.

Her grandfather held immense authority in the Xue family—no one had ever spoken to him this way. She worried he’d grow angry, but instead, the old man burst into loud laughter, clearly delighted. “Hahahaha! It seems your teachers are many.”

“One day, I must meet this teacher of numerical art!”

Li Guanyi thought: those who taught him numerical art were probably still in another world, angry over midterms and finals, over unruly students, holding a thermos of goji berries, saying, “You’re the worst class I’ve ever had.”

Living mundane, peaceful lives—with computers, with cola—daily routines he now envied.

How could you ever meet that ‘teacher of numerical art’? Unless a master of numerical art fell from the sky and hit me on the head.

The boy thought this, yet only smiled and replied, “If the chance arises, certainly.”

The old man laughed heartily, not taking it seriously.

Li Guanyi had never been allowed into the inner courtyard before, but today, with the old man leading, no one dared stop him. Along the way, he saw courtyards of varying sizes—some had screen walls, with finely carved dragon-and-tiger-decorated carriages parked at the gates; others were plain.

He knew this was where the guest ministers lived.

The Xue family’s guest ministers had private courtyards—others in the Xue family envied them.

But now that he’d entered, he realized even guest ministers had their own hierarchies.

The inner courtyard was surrounded by high walls, sharply dividing the inner and outer areas. The walls bore battlements like city ramparts; retainers walked atop them, holding long staves and wearing weapons at their waists, their steps steady—they all possessed martial skill.

Li Guanyi thought quietly.

No wonder this was a powerful clan.

No wonder this was a world in chaos.

The Xue family’s patriarch chatted with Li Guanyi along the way. The old man was witty; Li Guanyi, drawing on his past-life experiences, responded with calm confidence, occasionally offering clever remarks. The old man’s smile deepened. Guest ministers and Xue family women passing by were astonished.

Who was this boy chatting so easily with the Xue patriarch? Everyone else, upon meeting him, instinctively bowed their heads, trembling like before a god, hesitating over every word, terrified of error—none dared speak as freely as this boy.

The old man pointed to a courtyard. “What do you think of this one?”

The courtyard had three courtyards in sequence, with pavilions and water terraces—unusually grand for this place.

Li Guanyi said, “Excellent.”

The old man’s face softened with a faint smile as he walked ahead. “This courtyard belongs to a guest minister—he’s been a martial cultivator for years and married a branch-line Xue woman. I allowed him and his family to live here. If you like, you may do the same.”

“The Xue family has thirteen branch lines. Many women among them are your age—and even more are beautiful.”

Li Guanyi said, “Are you suggesting…?”

The old man walked steadily, asking casually, “You must have realized—I’m asking whether you’d like to become my Xue family’s guest minister.”

Xue Shuangtao froze, eyes wide.

Thirteen years old—and a guest minister? Li Guanyi feigned surprise. “But isn’t the rule that only those who’ve entered the realm may serve as guest ministers?”

The old man laughed loudly. “Childish thinking. My word is the Xue family’s rule.”

“For three hundred years, my Xue family has stayed away from court and battlefield. We’ve been merchants ever since. Young Master, what do you think is the most important trait for a merchant?”

“Vision and courage!”

The old man looked at the boy, his white eyebrows rising, his eyes like a tiger’s. He grinned. “Like on the battlefield—you must seize the moment to strike, or you die. Business is the same. If you’re timid, you’ll only barely feed your family.”

“Since ancient times, the greatest merchants and greatest heroes have all made colossal gambles!”

“Win, and you gain ten thousand taels of gold, your name etched through history. Lose, and you lose everything, cursed forever.”

“At six, I won a historical text in a bet. I stayed up all night reading until my eyes swelled. In the past 120 years, as Chen Guo rose and fell, my Xue family’s wealth tripled. These eyes have never lost a bet. Now, seeing you, I’m pleased—I’ll gamble again. I’m betting on you.”

Li Guanyi asked, “What are you betting on?”

The old man walked slowly, bringing him and Xue Shuangtao to a lotus pond. The lotuses had not yet bloomed. He turned and gestured vaguely toward Li Guanyi.

“Thirteen years old, proficient in numerical art, encountered many masters, internal cultivation nearly complete, behavior governed by clear principles—I bet on your future: you will become renowned in this region. I bet you’ll become a great statesman within ten years!”

“Giving coal in the snow far surpasses adding flowers to brocade.”

“Clear betting is no weaker than secret alliances.”

“Today, seeing you, I’m pleased—I’ll lay everything bare. Tell me: what do you say?”

The old man spoke with open, bold magnanimity.

Xue Shuangtao held her breath, afraid to interrupt.

Li Guanyi said, “I’d be honored—but you’ve only seen me twice. Aren’t you afraid of losing?”

The old man pointed to the house, not answering directly. “My Xue family has a thousand scrolls—covering Confucian arts, great writings, poetry, sutras, Buddhist and Daoist texts, geography, history, and cartography. If I let you borrow them, which would you choose?”

Li Guanyi, watching the Bai Hu’s focused gaze, gave his answer.

“History and geography.”

The old man asked, “Why?”

“To open my eyes.”

“Open your eyes to what?”

Li Guanyi stared at him. “To see this world.”

The old man burst into laughter—a tiger’s roar under the moon on a mountain peak.

He strode forward and casually pushed open the Listening Wind Pavilion.

“Guest Minister Li, please!”

He stepped inside. The interior was extremely plain.

The old man walked in, personally brewing tea. Inside Li Guanyi, the bronze tripod had reached 98% jade fluid—like the Crimson Dragon before, it now stalled, stuck, unable to break through to the final stage. To surpass it, he’d likely need to imprint a Form-Level supreme technique, as he had with Yue Qianfeng.

But how? He faintly sensed a blurred Bai Hu forming on the bronze tripod.

Yet it hadn’t solidified, hadn’t stabilized—much less emerged like the Crimson Dragon.

He’d just sat down when his gaze paused, drawn to one object.

A bow.

An ancient battle bow!

It sat, radiating lethal energy, at the center of the high platform in the Listening Wind Pavilion.

The blurred Bai Hu on Li Guanyi’s heart-core tripod suddenly coalesced, as if roaring to break free.

A fierce, overwhelming desire surged in his heart—

Grasp it! Grasp it! That’s—

The boy saw the inscription beside the bow—a sharp, martial aura.

【Po-Yun Zhen-Tian Bow】! (End of Chapter)