Chapter 10

(Five days on the new book chart, thank you all for your support and love, continue to request daily recommendations and collections!)

In the old forest, Su Qinen stood like an old turtle, exhaling a thick white mist with each breath. His hands formed a circle, the muscles under his thin shirt rippling like a bowstring being pulled, making a faint creaking sound.

The third level of the *Turtle Snake Technique* was exceptionally heavy. As his blood seeped through, Su Qinen felt the originally stiff tendons gradually become soft and resilient, and his movements became smoother, approaching a natural state.

Later, his movements became slower and slower, but the breath between the opening and closing of his stance became heavier. In the end, with every movement, leaves within a few feet around him floated and sank, subtly influenced by his actions, as if forming an invisible field.

After a while.

Su Qinen finished the Turtle Snake Stance, took a deep breath, and felt his entire body's blood and qi swell, his strength increasing significantly. A rough estimate showed that he had gained nearly 250 pounds of strength. The third level of the *Turtle Snake Technique* could be considered to have reached a proficient level, taking a solid step forward.

Whoo!

Su Qinen shook his fist and struck a old elm tree with a loud thud. This punch was accompanied by a faint whistling sound, and when the fist met the cracked bark, the skin and tendons on his arm moved, absorbing most of the shock.

Ice water mixed with withered leaves fell, and Su Qinen retracted his fist, a hint of enlightenment in his eyes: "The skin, tendons, bones, and marrow, each layer progresses and also nourishes the others. From the surface to the core, and from the core to the surface, refining the entire body's tendons, the resonance of the tendons and membranes, the skin is not static but gradually condenses, becoming even more solid."

Hoo!

Su Qinen took a step, his mental energy enveloping his surroundings, sufficient to deal with any ordinary ambush. He darted forward like an arrow, disappearing into the depths of the ancient forest in a few breaths.

For the rest of the day, Su Qinen did not have such good luck. He did not even see any venomous snakes or insects, and he dared not easily try, as they were not recorded in the eighth volume of the *Beast Classic*.

...

Swinging a foot-long medicinal hoe, Su Qinen picked a ten-year-old cat's ear herb from a crevice in a ten-zhang-high solitary cliff. The medicinal basket behind him, which was as big as a person's head, was only half full.

It was his first time entering the mountains, and even with his mental energy, he made mistakes while picking herbs, damaging many medicinal parts, which were discarded as waste.

"Put down the medicinal basket!"

A slightly immature but very cold voice sounded.

Su Qinen raised an eyebrow and looked behind him. A teenager who looked a year or two older than him stood there, with narrow eyes and a clean gray-white robe. His face was rosy, his body plump, and most importantly, his medicinal basket was already half full, but he still needed more to fill it before sunset.

"I noticed this boy early on. He hesitated, but couldn't resist. It seems that human greed and the tendency to bully the weak are indeed deep-rooted."

Su Qinen remained calm, looking at the person and said, "What do you want?"

"You're Su Qinen, right? The second son of Su Wangsheng, the eighth-rank editor of the Eighth-Class Arsenal. Now, take half of the herbs in your basket and give them to me, and I won't make things difficult for you."

Seeing Su Qinen so calm, the boy's face turned red, and his tone became smoother and more forceful: "I entered the valley a year before you and have already reached the third level of the *Turtle Snake Technique*. Don't make things hard for yourself."

As soon as he finished speaking, the boy was somewhat surprised. He had expected some resistance, but Su Qinen, though clearly humiliated, remained silent and took off his medicinal basket, placing it in front of him.

"Pathetic!"

The boy sneered, taking most of the herbs from Su Qinen's basket, leaving only a thin layer, and then left, satisfied.

At the foot of the solitary cliff, Su Qinen watched the boy's departing back. The boy's basket now contained less than 20% of the herbs. He picked up the basket and put it back on his back, which was now much heavier, with the herbs nearly half full.

A cold smile appeared on his lips. Just now, Su Qinen had used the Soul Subjugation Technique to create a series of illusions in the boy's mind, making him believe that Su Qinen had submitted, leading to his own downfall.

"Indeed, humans are different from ordinary insects and are harder to deceive."

In just a short moment, Su Qinen felt his mental energy had been consumed by nearly 20%. When his mental energy approached the boy, he could feel the heat of the boy's blood and qi. It seemed that the Soul Subjugation Technique was not invincible. If the boy had reached the fourth level of the *Turtle Snake Technique*, with even more robust blood and qi, it would be much harder to penetrate, and if he reached the level of a Daoist like Jingdu, where his blood and qi had condensed like a blood-sweating treasure horse, Su Qinen's mental energy would be burned upon approach.

"If I can open another star acupoint and fully light up the first star position, and achieve the first level of the *Great Soul Subjugation Technique*, the situation would be different."

"Blood and qi, I need sufficient blood food!"

Never before had Su Qinen felt such a strong desire for blood food. The gap between his cultivation and realm was significant. With sufficient supply, he could advance the *Turtle Snake Technique* to the fourth level within a few days. Once the fourth level was perfected, he could attempt to fully open the second star acupoint.

"Some ginseng and lingzhi, which greatly replenish vital energy, are not inferior to the blood of beasts. They also undergo the Daoist process of refining essence into qi, and the herbs are even purer. But in the past half day, I haven't seen a single one."

Su Qinen muttered to himself, then quickly shook his head: "Even in the capital Chang'an, a common ten-year-old wild ginseng would cost ten taels of silver. My father's monthly salary as an eighth-rank official is only enough to buy one. With so many people from the Xianxia Valley entering the mountains year after year, how many herbs could remain undiscovered? Even some old ginseng and lingzhi, precious medicines, are likely to be transplanted and guarded by pharmacists on Wudang Mountain..."

The 400-mile Wudang Mountain had been picked clean by a group of death row inmates on probation. Even a national sect like Wudang probably didn't have such a large capacity.

In fact, according to Su Qinen's knowledge, the entire Wudang consumed a river of silver every day. Even outside the 400-mile Wudang, there were thousands of acres of fertile land granted by the imperial court, tax-free, leased to farmers in nearby villages, with rent collected before the year-end sacrifice.

...

The sun set, and the night air grew cold. The wind was like a sword, and the night owls began to emerge.

Su Qinen walked out of the deep forest, his thin shirt somewhat torn, but he looked spirited, with a vigorous aura.

He had killed two lone wolves, drinking their blood, and using the familiar first two forms of the Turtle Snake Fist, he had taken another small step toward the perfection of the third level of the *Turtle Snake Technique*.

Tightening the medicinal basket on his back, which was not full but nearly so, Su Qinen had not encountered any more bandits. His mental energy sensed the surroundings, and he deliberately avoided some death row inmates with fiery blood and qi, who had been in the Xianxia Valley for several years and had at least reached the fourth level of the *Turtle Snake Technique*, far beyond his current capabilities.

Even those he could potentially subdue with his mental energy, he chose to avoid, as the real challenges lay ahead, and he needed to be at his peak to face them.

Returning to the shore, the sky was already dark. Ignoring the vague gazes from the lakeside, he casually took a bowl of ordinary meat soup and a few half-cold pieces of cooked beef from a miscellaneous Daoist.

In the thatched hut, Su Qinen's eyes turned cold: "They are all watching, but it's not unexpected. None of them are the owners of the nine thatched huts by the lake. Such a small matter naturally has many followers willing to do it, giving me an opportunity. I, Su Qinen, with my past experiences, learned to read at five and studied at seven. For ten years, I have understood principles and intentions. Even if I don't have the integrity of ancient gentlemen, I will not compromise. If they want to make me their prey, I will send them to the chopping block!"

The meat soup entered his stomach, and the well-cooked beef was quickly digested. His mental energy permeated his body, and Su Qinen constantly monitored his changes. As the skin, tendons, bones, and marrow were refined layer by layer, his internal organs became stronger, and he gained a deeper understanding of the interconnectedness of the body.

Blowing out the oil lamp and extinguishing the fire in the brazier, his mental energy was not yet strong enough, and the colder the environment, the more comfortable he felt.

"No wonder Daoists speak of yin spirits. Once the sun sets, my mental energy can easily leave my body, and during the day, I feel hot and consume more energy than at night."

Su Qinen sat cross-legged on the wooden bed, looking thoughtful: "A martial artist in Chang'an once said that after reaching the second-class Dragon and Tiger stage, martial artists begin to touch the mental level. At the peak of the Mystic stage, when martial artists achieve the spirit, they follow the path of pure yang. I wonder what the difference is between mental energy and the spirit..."

"Here he comes!"

Suddenly, Su Qinen's eyes sharpened, and a seventeen- or eighteen-year-old death row inmate outside the thatched hut shivered, cursing inwardly. This year, winter seemed to come faster on Wudang Mountain, and the bone-chilling cold at night was hard to bear, even with the third level of the *Turtle Snake Technique* nearly perfected.

Creak!

Pushing open the leaky, rotten wooden door, he was met with an even colder breath, but the oil lamp on the table was brightly lit, and the brazier burned red, with wisps of blue smoke curling and occasionally making a popping sound. (Five days on the new book chart, thank you all for your support and love, continue to request daily recommendations and collections!)