Chapter Four: The Mysterious Origin of the Little Martial Scripture

Qingyun Daoist Temple.

The number of Daoist temples in this world far exceeded what Ning Cheng had imagined.

This was all because the Great Jing Dynasty revered Daoism while suppressing Buddhism, establishing numerous temples across the provinces, prefectures, and subordinate counties, deploying them to assist the dynasty in eradicating monsters and demons and maintaining the court's rule.

Half a month ago, Ning Cheng pushed his sister Ning Xin on a flat wooden cart, bringing along their family’s provisions and belongings, and even a pot of half-eaten chicken porridge, and arrived at Qingyun Daoist Temple.

The temple was under the jurisdiction of Qingyun County and enforced a strict set of admission rules.

Given Ning Cheng’s background as a tenant farmer, he had no right to enter the temple.

Fortunately, a kind-hearted old Daoist took pity on the orphaned siblings, and, seeing they owned a serviceable wooden cart, decided to let Ning Cheng stay as a menial worker.

Now, Ning Cheng’s daily tasks mainly consisted of chopping wood and cutting grass outside, and after dusk, doing small chores like feeding the livestock.

Life here was more stable than in Nanpo Village, for in this world, Daoists truly possessed mystical powers.

To be allowed to remain in a Daoist temple as a menial worker was in itself a measure of safety.

...

With a soft snap, a cattle louse, no larger than a grain of rice, was crushed between his fingers.

After the sound, Ning Cheng surreptitiously summoned the attribute interface of the black staff in his hand.

He quickly closed the interface, but in that brief glance he saw:

[Available Soul Force: 3000.6]

“Whew! I’ve finally saved enough soul force to comprehend this ‘Minor Martial Canon.’”

Muttering, he drew a slightly tattered, thread-bound ancient manual from his breast.

Taking advantage of the dim light and empty cowshed, he silently intoned in his heart, “Comprehend!”

Immediately, a faint white light flickered across the ancient manual.

In the span of a breath, the words and diagrams on the thread-bound ‘Minor Martial Canon’ vanished entirely.

At the same moment, countless images of figures appeared in rapid succession in the depths of Ning Cheng’s mind, like a film on fast-forward.

These figures wielded all manner of weapons, some fought barehanded, performing a series of fluid martial movements.

The actions, while mirroring those in the ‘Minor Martial Canon,’ were subtly different.

A flood of martial experience from countless figures poured into Ning Cheng, and he absorbed it effortlessly, without the slightest discomfort.

“Is this the true marvel of soul force?” Ning Cheng could not help but marvel silently.

On a whim, he threw a few punches at random, each trailing afterimages and stirring invisible gusts of wind.

Had he struck those corpse-eating hounds with such force back then, he wouldn’t have needed a staff to crack their skulls or quell their savagery.

The ‘Minor Martial Canon’ was now nothing more than a stack of blank thread-bound pages, devoid of all content.

Ning Cheng tucked it away, not wishing for anyone to discover it—a hard thing to explain.

This ancient martial manual was a rare treasure in this era, and not a gift from Qingyun Daoist Temple.

Instead, it had been brought back one night by the little white fox the siblings cared for, after it recovered from its injuries. Who knows where it had found such a martial treatise outside the temple.

Though it was called the ‘Minor Martial Canon,’ and bore the word ‘Minor,’ its contents were so profound that even Ning Cheng, well-versed in classical texts in his past life, found it obscure and difficult.

It was leagues above the ‘Five Animal Fists’ granted by the temple to ordinary workers for self-defense.

When Ning Cheng first entered the temple, the old Daoist gave him the ‘Five Animal Fists,’ and that very night he discovered he could spend soul force to comprehend the martial art directly.

Delighted, he spent 10 points of soul force to master it completely.

This proved the fist style was a common, elementary martial art, barely enough to contend with small wild animals in the mountains—its use was very limited.

But the ‘Minor Martial Canon’ the little white fox had secretly brought required a full 3000 points of soul force to master—an unbridgeable gulf between the two.

Night soon descended.

Finishing his chores feeding the cattle and horses in record time, Ning Cheng donned a tattered coat and returned to the tiny dwelling set aside for him and his sister within the temple grounds.

Calling it a dwelling was generous—it was barely more than a woodshed beside the stable, just enough to shelter them.

As Ning Cheng approached the woodshed door, a bundle of white fluff hugged his leg.

It was the adorable little white fox.

He crouched down and stroked the fox’s head, then lifted it into his arms.

Satisfied, the little fox nodded; its bright, intelligent eyes sparkled with cunning.

It seemed to be saying in its foxy tongue, “At least you have a conscience and haven’t abandoned me.”

After settling into Ning Cheng’s embrace, the fox extended a front paw as if to ask for something.

Ning Cheng immediately ‘read’ its sign language, laughed aloud, and fished out a handful of green wild berries from his ragged pocket to feed the greedy little creature.

This had become their nightly ritual.

After feeding the fox, Ning Cheng carried it into the woodshed.

The cramped room, stacked with firewood, barely accommodated two homemade, narrow wooden beds.

Still, it was a place of safety, and neither he nor his sister minded the hardships.

Under the temple’s regular two meals a day, Ning Xin’s health had improved considerably.

“Xin’er, tomorrow I’ll take you out for a walk,” Ning Cheng decided after watching his sister idly sprawled on her bed.

“Really? Brother, you’re not tricking me?” Ning Xin instantly brightened.

She bounced off the bed, scooped the little fox from Ning Cheng’s arms, and gave it a kiss on the nose.

“Ooee—ooee!” the little white fox chirped, as if it too understood Ning Cheng’s words, and raised a paw in agreement from Ning Xin’s embrace.

“All right, Little White, you can come too!” Ning Xin grinned.

The temple rules were strict, but not without humanity.

Every menial worker was allowed a day off each month, a day without duties but also without pay.

The meager wages mattered little to Ning Cheng.

Now that he had just mastered the ‘Minor Martial Canon’ and gained a measure of self-defense, this was the perfect opportunity to go out and clear his mind.

Hearing Ning Cheng’s promise, the little white fox revealed a remarkably human-like smile.

“All right, hurry up and wash up for bed so you’ll have the energy to play tomorrow!” Ning Cheng commanded.

When the siblings had fallen into a deep sleep, the little white fox quietly wriggled free from Ning Xin’s embrace.

Its cute eyes changed in an instant to beastly vertical pupils, glinting with a strange light, gazing out the window into the distance.

From afar, there seemed to come the faint, lingering calls of a wild beast.

In a flash of white light, the little fox slipped through the wooden window and vanished into the depths of the night.