Chapter 10

That night, Qin Sang and Mingyue did their evening recitations together, studying the Daoist scriptures.

Just like the *Yao Ming Jing*, Qin Sang couldn't understand them either. Fortunately, Jixin Daoist would patiently explain, and Qin Sang studied diligently, finding a piece of charcoal to write down what he learned.

Late at night, back in his room, Qin Sang took out the *Yao Ming Jing* again, comparing it with the characters he had just learned, trying to understand the meaning of the scripture. It was very difficult, but he enjoyed it.

The next day, Jixin Daoist went down the mountain to perform a ritual and returned by noon. On the donkey was a bag of coarse grain. In the afternoon, Mingyue steamed a pot of vegetable buns and fried a can of salted fish, helping Jixin Daoist pack his luggage and medicine box.

On the ninth day, when Qin Sang woke up, he didn't see Jixin Daoist. He asked Mingyue and learned that he had left at dawn. That day, he and Mingyue followed Jixin Daoist's instructions, and everything went smoothly.

On the morning of the tenth day, Qin Sang, exhausted, finally rested. Early in the morning, he started practicing the *Fuhu Changquan* in front of the house.

"Brother, what kind of boxing are you practicing?"

Mingyue, holding a bowl of porridge, sat on a stone nearby, watching Qin Sang's vigorous movements, feeling a bit envious.

"This is called *Fuhu Changquan*. Has the Daoist never taught you martial arts?"

After finishing a set, feeling refreshed, Qin Sang wiped his sweat and asked.

"No," Mingyue shook his head, biting the tip of his chopsticks, full of curiosity, "Brother, does Master know martial arts?"

"How would I know? I've only been here for a few days."

Qin Sang rolled his eyes, secretly thinking. He had assumed that since Jixin Daoist dared to enter the mountains to gather herbs, he must have some martial arts skills, so he deliberately practiced in front of Mingyue to draw him into conversation.

If he knew martial arts, there would be no reason not to teach his disciple. Over the past few days, Qin Sang had noticed that Jixin Daoist was very fond of Mingyue, treating him like a son.

Could he really just be an ordinary Daoist?

"Do you only learn scriptures and medicine with the Daoist? Have you never learned any magic?"

"Magic?"

Mingyue looked puzzled, "We spend more time reciting scriptures and learning characters. I've also studied divination books, can interpret fortunes and write talismans, but I'm not very skilled. Master doesn't dare let me do it in front of people. I know the procedures for rituals and can assist Master. Master also teaches me to identify herbs, diagnose illnesses, and prescribe medicine, but he says I need to study for twenty more years before I can practice, otherwise I might harm people."

Qin Sang's eyes lit up, "Talismans aren't magic? I heard that couple say their home was troubled, and the Daoist gave them a talisman to ward off evil and bring good luck. Isn't that magic?"

Mingyue chuckled, looked around, and whispered, "Brother, I'll tell you, but don't tell anyone else. Master said these are all lies."

Lies?

There are deities here!

Qin Sang was indignant, "If they're not accurate, aren't you afraid people will come looking for you?"

"Such mysterious things, who knows what's true and what's not?"

Mingyue shook his head, "Even if someone comes, there are ways to handle it. You'll find out eventually, Brother."

Qin Sang was deeply hurt and listless all day. Mingyue pestered him to learn *Fuhu Changquan*, so he promised to teach him once his leg healed.

Before he knew it, Qin Sang had been at the temple for over twenty days, and the three of them had truly gotten to know each other.

During this time, Qin Sang worked hard on his boxing, recitations, and studies.

Apart from rituals, Jixin Daoist didn't hide his teachings of medicine and divination from him. Qin Sang confirmed that it was all talk and deception, and he gave up hope.

However, the deceptions contained many profound insights into the world, which he found quite enlightening.

His leg gradually healed, and he no longer needed a cane. He couldn't stay idle, so he first cut bamboo to make a water pipe from the stream to the courtyard, and built a small pond with stones.

After several attempts, he finally succeeded.

This relieved Mingyue of his heaviest task, and the continuous flow of water made the vegetables and herbs in the garden grow better. Not only did Mingyue call him "Brother" more affectionately, but Jixin Daoist's opinion of him also improved.

Next, Qin Sang made a bamboo ladder, climbed onto the roof, and replaced the broken tiles in the room where the three of them lived.

Later, he found the food at the temple too bland and set up several traps, catching a few wild rabbits and mountain chickens.

Mingyue advised Qin Sang not to kill in the temple, as it would be punished by Master, so Qin Sang built a makeshift stove by the stream outside the temple, where Jixin Daoist couldn't interfere.

This world didn't have as many seasonings as his previous life, and he wasn't skilled in cooking. The game had a strong grassy and earthy flavor, so he could only roast it, sprinkling salt, which made it taste decent.

Mingyue, though reluctant to kill, dared to eat and enjoyed it.

Another ten days passed, the leaves fell, and the weather turned cold.

The mountain wind was colder than the wind at the foot of the mountain. The three of them did their evening recitations in the Qingyang Hall, where the cold wind seeped in, making the oil lamp flicker.

Qin Sang stretched, put down his goose feather pen, and adjusted the wick. Seeing that the other two were still reciting, he said softly, "Daoist, I'm going back to sleep."

He picked up the papers he had just written, wrapped his robe, and left the hall. His leg had healed, and he was planning to go to Sanwu City.

Reading changed one's fate.

In the past month, Qin Sang had studied harder than he did in his senior year of high school in his previous life.

Today, he finally recognized and understood all the characters in the *Yao Ming Jing*. Jixin Daoist was well-versed and more knowledgeable than he had imagined, and he was willing to teach patiently. Qin Sang was very grateful to him.

Back in his room, Qin Sang first practiced *Fuhu Changquan* to calm his restless mind.

Qin Sang had been following Bai Jianglan's instructions, practicing *Fuhu Changquan* every morning and evening without interruption. He clearly felt his physical strength improving, but he hadn't seen any trace of the legendary true qi.

After finishing his practice, he washed off the sweat, returned to his room, and took out a stack of yellow paper from under his bed, covered in writing. He then compared it with the book, using the moonlight to add the final sentence.

The entire *Yao Ming Jing* was finally translated.

Holding the yellow paper, Qin Sang's hands trembled with excitement. He took a deep breath to calm himself and began reading from the beginning.

Over and over, he was fully immersed in the *Yao Ming Jing*, first reading his translation, then the original, making small adjustments and refining his translation.

Qin Sang didn't dare to practice rashly, fearing that a small mistake might lead to a disastrous outcome.

Based on his current understanding, the *Yao Ming Jing* was indeed a cultivation manual. After mastering the techniques, a force called "qi" would flow through the body along the meridians, and it described the circulation of qi.

Fortunately, he had been studying medical texts with Jixin Daoist, so he had some knowledge of meridians and acupoints, allowing him to understand it勉强.