Waking up in the morning, the world outside was a blanket of pure white.
After a night of diligent effort—though he felt not the slightest hint of fatigue—Jiang Fei pushed open the door. A gust of cold wind immediately swept into the bedroom, which had been as warm as spring, bringing with it an invigorating, crisp freshness.
It was about seven-thirty. Compared to Jiang Fei’s usual waking time, it was actually a bit late, but not excessively so. It was still perfectly fine.
As for Lin Moli, who had effectively assumed the role of the actual president of Jiang’s Medical Clinic, she had long since broken her old habit of lazing about in bed. She had started getting up early to exercise. Today, however, she was undeniably fast asleep once again, showing no sign of wanting to wake up. It wasn’t just that she was particularly drowsy; more importantly, her body had suffered a considerable amount of trauma and required rest to fully recover.
After stepping outside, Jiang Fei left the room and carefully closed the door behind him to ensure the sleeping Lin Moli wouldn’t catch a chill. He made his way into the small courtyard, which was filled with blooming plum trees.
The heavy snow had fallen throughout the entire night, so at this moment, the only color between heaven and earth was white. Even the delicate pink petals of the plum blossoms were dusted with a fair amount of snowflakes.
Practicing his fist techniques and moving his body—this was a long-standing morning routine that Jiang Fei had adhered to for years.
Perhaps, given his current physical condition enhanced by the System—an external aid akin to a cheat code—his own hard work during training had little to no effect. Compared to the immense benefits granted by System upgrades, his personal efforts were almost negligible. No matter how much he practiced on ordinary days, it wouldn’t increase his combat prowess. But such is human nature; morning exercise is more a matter of habit, a way to cultivate both body and mind.
Swish!
Jiang Fei’s right index and middle fingers formed a sword seal. With a gentle flick of his wrist, a branch on a plum tree over two meters away was severed cleanly by an invisible force through the air. Then, as if manipulated by an unseen giant hand, it floated over and landed right beside him, where he grasped it firmly.
Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh—
The moment that ordinary branch was in Jiang Fei’s grasp, its presence underwent a dramatic transformation. It seemed to become an indestructible, peerlessly sharp divine weapon. With every move and stance Jiang Fei made, the branch moved with a fierce, commanding power. It could effortlessly stir up the snow accumulated on the ground and cause the branches of the plum trees to sway, sending both snow and petals cascading down in flurries.
To an onlooker, Jiang Fei’s movements might not appear particularly profound. Much like the style of the Lonely Nine Swords, they remained consistently straightforward and direct. There weren’t even any fixed stances or rigid forms. The essence of the sword art lay entirely in the “Sword Intent” of the Lonely Nine Swords—the will to dismantle all martial arts under heaven.
By now, Jiang Fei had long since reached the realm where having no technique triumphs over having technique, and having no sword surpasses having a sword. Even with nothing in his hands, he could still unleash the miraculous power of the Lonely Nine Swords. Moreover, he could even utilize the third level of the sword art’s “Domain” of the Sword Path. Just like that day on the Golden Summit of Mount Emei, he had gathered the snow in the surrounding courtyard to form a massive dragon composed entirely of countless snowflake swords.
However, for his daily practice, he naturally had no need for such grandiose displays. Otherwise, the entire Cui family compound would have been stirred awake by the commotion.
Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh—
Every move of the wooden sword carried an ineffable charm, as if it could influence the very currents of air, feeling exceptionally weighty.
In Jiang Fei’s hand, the object no longer seemed like a mere wooden sword but rather an immensely heavy Mysterious Iron Heavy Sword, weighing over a hundred pounds and difficult to wield. Yet, whenever an occasional wisp of errant sword energy leaked out and struck the ground or a branch, it would blast the snow aside, leaving a clear sword scar in the earth, or sever a branch with a clean cut. Only then would one realize that the sword’s nature wasn’t merely heavy; it contained an unparalleled sharpness capable of slicing through anything.
The snow had already stopped falling, and the sky was beginning to clear over the courtyard. Yet, for a long while, the air seemed to churn with wind and clouds. Only after some time did the swirling snowflakes and plum petals slowly resettle on the ground, returning to stillness.
Jiang Fei casually tossed the plum branch aside, but his movements did not cease. His feet shifted to shoulder-width apart, and his hands rose slowly, as if holding a large watermelon in an embrace. A set of Tai Chi forms began to flow from his hands like drifting clouds and streaming water.
“This incomplete version of Tai Chi… when I first opened that upgrade gift package, the description said it lacked the internal energy cultivation method, but the forms themselves were authentically passed down from Zhang Sanfeng of Wudang Mountain. By all logic, this set of Tai Chi should be considered the pinnacle of martial arts, reaching a state of ultimate refinement. It should absolutely be on par with the top-tier martial skills in all of Mr. Jin’s martial arts novels. As long as I pair it with suitable internal energy within these forms, they should manifest tremendous power. But something seems off…”
As Jiang Fei executed the Tai Chi forms, he split off a portion of his focus to ponder this question he had mulled over many times before.
He had long since cultivated genuine internal energy; he could hardly be considered someone without it.
Furthermore, it was the legendary North Darkness Divine Art. The true power of the North Darkness Divine Art, aside from its ability to freely absorb the internal energy of others and convert it into one’s own, causing one’s internal strength to grow substantially without effort, lay in another aspect: after undergoing conversion by North冥 True Qi, the internal energy became compatible with any martial art.
In other words, the internal energy from the North Darkness Divine Art was essentially universal energy. Any martial technique arriving at the gates of the North Darkness Divine Art could be executed to its fullest potential. It wasn’t like the seventy-two supreme skills of Shaolin Temple, where many powerful techniques required not only practicing the external moves but also cultivating a specific corresponding internal art to bring the technique to life.
Yet, even though Jiang Fei had elevated the power of the North Darkness Divine Art to over a decade’s worth of cultivation and was nearing the completion of its first level, when he applied it to Tai Chi, the Tai Chi forms still failed to produce the desired effect.
Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh—
Jiang Fei’s form was fluid, and his every action appeared natural. They looked soft and powerless on the surface, but a simple push-hand or a straight punch could generate a sound that tore through the air. The fierce force of his fist could even disturb the plum blossoms on branches a meter or two away, causing them to sway wildly and their petals to flutter about.
Tai Chi is not solely about using softness to overcome hardness, as most people believe. Within this fist art, there exist some extremely fierce and rigid moves that can only be described as supremely hard and explosively powerful.
The power demonstrated by these Tai Chi moves would be considered utterly inconceivable in real life. Even a so-called Tai Chi grandmaster could never generate a fist wind that exerts palpable force from over a meter away. Those so-called Qigong masters circulating in online videos, who claim to send people flying with an air punch from a distance, are nothing more than clowns seeking attention.
Yet, Jiang Fei, who was genuinely executing such powerful fist techniques, felt far from satisfied.
“The power of this fist art, even if I were to raise it by two more levels and bring it to the stage of Great Perfection, might just barely hold its own against an expert of Miyamoto Isshin’s caliber. But against foes like the Little Drunkard or Bai Kedi, it would likely fall short. Let alone facing a master at the Dan Strength level, like Yagyu Munenori. It would be utterly impossible. Compared to the Lonely Nine Swords, its power is severely lacking.” Jiang Fei furrowed his brow in thought.
“It shouldn’t be like this. It doesn’t make sense.”
“The pinnacle fist art created by the esteemed Master Zhang of Wudang Mountain should absolutely be considered a top-tier martial art. Even if it cannot quite match the Eighteen Dragon-Subduing Palms, the gap shouldn’t be this astronomical. Could there be a flaw in my training approach?”
“Or is it because this fist art itself is an incomplete version? That even if the practitioner possesses internal energy, it’s impossible to restore this art to its true, intended power?”
Punch after punch, although there was no sluggishness or obstruction, Jiang Fei simply could not find that feeling of unrestrained fluidity. It felt somewhat stifled.
Jiang Fei made a mental note: when he accumulated more skill points in the future, he would upgrade this incomplete version of Tai Chi to the third level of Great Perfection and see if any changes occurred.
After all, a top-tier fist art like this—if paired with the internal energy of the North Darkness Divine Art and fully restored—would be a terrible shame not to learn.
He practiced the set for about twenty more minutes before finally stopping.
At that moment, his gaze shifted toward the entrance of the courtyard, where an old man in a thick coat stood, looking reasonably spirited.
The old man had been standing in the courtyard for two or three minutes already. Seeing Jiang Fei practicing his fist techniques, he hadn’t made a sound to interrupt. Instead, he watched the demonstration and cultivation with great interest and considerable astonishment.
This man was, of course, the patriarch of the Cui family. Even at over eighty years of age, he remained the true pillar of stability for the family. It could be said that without this anchoring presence, the Cui family—relying solely on the middle generation’s officials at the bureau and deputy bureau levels—would amount to very little within the city of Xidu.
“Old Master, you’ve only just recovered from a serious illness, yet you’re already able to rise this early. It seems your constitution has always been quite robust,” Jiang Fei said with a slight smile as he walked over after finishing his practice.
Looking at the young man before him, Elder Cui felt a complex mix of emotions swirling in his heart. It wasn’t just Lin Moli’s mother or the other members of the Cui family who had misjudged Jiang Fei. Initially, they had looked down on him, thinking this young man was unworthy of Lin Moli and unfit to step through the doors of the Cui household.
Even he himself, an old man who had lived over eighty years and seen countless people in his lifetime, had also misjudged him.
Back then, he had even assisted Lin Moli’s mother in setting up a test for Jiang Fei and had said some things to Lin Moli that dampened her enthusiasm.
But ever since the day Mu Chaoyang and Yang Feng had visited the Cui residence, and the dramatic events that unfolded became known to him, the old man couldn’t help but feel his face flush with embarrassment. He had felt awkward about facing Jiang Fei again.
However, as the saying goes, “An elder in the house is a treasure.” He was, after all, much better at handling things than Lin Moli’s assortment of aunts and uncles. At a time like this, he chose not to shrink away.
“I’ve kept up with exercise all these years. As long as my condition doesn’t act up, my bones are still fairly strong. So once I get over the hump, it’s as if nothing ever happened,” Elder Cui nodded and said with a smile.
He then brought up a topic that genuinely piqued his curiosity and puzzlement: “During my morning exercises, I usually practice Tai Chi as well. It’s the Small Frame Tai Chi from the Chen style. Although it involves many coiling silk movements, it’s still considered traditional Tai Chi. And I’ve studied Tai Chi quite deeply. Watching you perform just now, however, was rather strange. While the essence and flavor of the moves were correct and exceptionally pure, it differed from any style I’ve ever seen before. What branch of Tai Chi do you practice?”
Jiang Fei touched his nose and replied, “Mine… is probably Wudang Tai Chi.”
“Wudang Tai Chi? It certainly couldn’t be the traditional Sanfeng Thirteen Postures. I’ve seen that one; its power and health benefits are rather unremarkable. Could it be that you’re practicing the legendary ‘Secret Transmission Tai Chi’ that was lost ages ago?” Elder Cui speculated with surprise.
“Something like that,” Jiang Fei nodded.
Indeed, this Tai Chi of his was created by Zhang Sanfeng. And in this world, aside from Jiang Fei himself, no one else knew it. Calling it “Secret Transmission Tai Chi” was actually quite accurate.
“So that’s really it.” Elder Cui nodded with sudden understanding. “Although I haven’t seen you use this Tai Chi in actual combat, just watching your practice method tells me that this set is not only good for health but, more importantly, is designed for real combat—true, life-or-death fighting. I imagine only the legendary Secret Transmission Tai Chi could possess such power.”
The old man and the young man chatted for a while longer in the courtyard until Wu Ma came to invite them both in for breakfast.
“Jasmine still isn’t up? She had this little habit since she was small; I didn’t expect she’d still be sleeping in now that she’s grown. Wu Ma, go call her,” Elder Cui instructed.
Jiang Fei raised a hand to stop her, saying it wasn’t necessary. Let Lin Moli sleep a while longer.
He felt too embarrassed to explain that his granddaughter had, in fact, already broken her habit of lazing in bed. It was just that last night’s… excessive exertions had drained her vitality. It wasn’t just this morning; she would likely feel unwell for the entire day.
After breakfast, Jiang Fei formally began treating Elder Cui’s chronic ailments—the issues concerning his heart and blood pressure.
In truth, these couldn’t really be called illnesses.
They were simply the result of the body’s various organs beginning to decline with age, combined with any unhealthy lifestyle habits from his younger years or lingering hidden injuries and severe illnesses from the past. These latent issues would manifest in old age—something no one can avoid.
It could almost be considered a law of nature. Reaching this stage meant one was approaching the end of one’s natural lifespan.
However, in Jiang Fei’s hands, this natural law could be forcefully altered!
His medical skills, having reached the maximum level of nine, had attained a height that was difficult to measure. Even the esteemed medical sages throughout history would likely pale in comparison to Jiang Fei.
“Reviving the dead and putting flesh back on bones” might be a bit too fantastical, but snatching lives back from the grasp of the King of Hell and improving the condition of someone nearing death was by no means impossible.
Under the watchful eyes of many Cui family members, amidst various speculations of belief and disbelief, this Traditional Chinese Medicine prodigy—so young that he involuntarily invited skepticism—began to wield the Eight Divine Acupuncture Techniques to treat the deeply rooted chronic ailments of the Cui family patriarch.
