Chapter 55 Ordinary

Creak, creak.
The carriage moved along a road that was not entirely smooth, yet reasonably wide.
Chen Mu leaned back against the carriage interior, lost in thought.
This was the third day since they had departed from Qingshan County.
The novelty of the journey's start had long been numbed by the monotony of travel.
Sitting in the carriage day after day, though the scenery constantly shifted, the lingering exhaustion of body and mind eventually swept over them like a tide.
Zhang Ye lifted the carriage curtain, resting one hand on the wooden frame.
Five or six fine steeds galloped straight toward them, and a few martial artists whipped their horses into a frenzy, quickly passing them by in a blur.
Zhang Ye could not help but mutter sourly, "There goes another bunch off to hunt for treasures."
No one inside the carriage bothered to answer him. This was already countless times he had expressed his regret with a bitter tone.
"Uncle Zhang, if you want to go, then just go," Chengming said with a cheeky grin.
"Go on, go on! What do children know!" Zhang Ye rolled his eyes.
Chen Mu glanced back at the martial artists vanishing amidst a cloud of dust.
His peripheral vision caught sight of the Qingshan County refugees trailing behind the convoy.
Some ran desperately to escape, while others racked their brains trying to force their way in.
"Heaven knows how many people are going to die."
Turning his head back, Chen Mu closed his eyes and paid them no further heed.
The distance from Qingshan County to Nanyang Prefecture was vast.
According to Jie Jia, even with smooth sailing and favorable winds, the journey would take at least a month and a half.
"With such a long time, I mustn't waste it."
Chen Mu summoned the gray wall.
Writing: 1666/10000/Second Tier;
Drawing: 1533/10000/Second Tier;
Throwing: 7553/10000/Third Tier;
Red Falcon Body-Shaping Technique: 5311/10000/Third Tier;
Culinary Arts: 806/10000/Second Tier;
Pharmacy: 626/10000/Third Tier;
Sword in the Sleeve: 816/10000/Third Tier;
Five Ghosts Moving Mountains Incantation: 397/10000/Third Tier;
Writing and drawing could be skipped for now. He hadn't practiced these two skills for quite a while.
Pebbles were visible everywhere, and throwing could be practiced using locust-stones, but the commotion was a bit too loud, so he had to give it up.
If anyone saw him using locust-stones, it would no longer serve as a hidden trump card.
Culinary arts didn't require deliberate practice; cooking every day accumulated experience naturally.
Pharmacy was somewhat trickier. He had already finished reading all the medical texts. Mixing and blending medicines by hand could also yield experience.
However, they were on the road...
Sword in the sleeve allowed for practicing the retraction and concealment of the blade.
Yet, the same principle applied: once too many people knew about it, it ceased to be a trump card.
The Five Ghosts Moving Mountains Incantation?
Ditto.
"The breathing technique within the body-shaping method, though, is something I can ponder and work on."
Chen Mu leaned against the carriage, his body swaying with its motion as he slowly adjusted his breathing rhythm, bringing it closer to the breathing method of the Red Falcon Body-Shaping Technique.
...
The movements of the body-shaping technique stimulated different muscle groups.
The breathing method only became effective when coordinated with them.
"If I can mobilize the corresponding muscles simply by sitting still, could I also achieve this coordination and attain the training effect?"
Over the next few days, following this train of thought, Chen Mu pondered whenever he had a free moment.
Thanks to the proficiency gray wall,
whenever his Throwing or Sword in the Sleeve skills advanced, they had always brought about a qualitative transformation in his physique.
Beyond enhancing his physical attributes, they also heightened his mastery and control over his entire body.
Also thanks to the proficiency gray wall,
every attempt brought him a wealth of comprehension.
Allowing him to gradually go further down this path.
...
"Old master, what's wrong with young brother Chen?" Zhang Ye looked curiously at Chen Mu, whose eyes were vacant and devoid of focus.
This state had persisted for three or four days.
He would frequently zone out and make bizarre movements from time to time.
Startlingly unpredictable, sometimes looking joyful, sometimes vexed.
His reactions were sluggish, taking half a day to reply to a single sentence.
Jie Jia glanced at him and said indifferently, "Practicing martial arts."
He was far too familiar with this state of focused absorption. Having spent over a year together, he had witnessed it more than once.
Once the other party immersed themselves in the practice of a certain skill, this trance-like state would inevitably manifest.
Zhang Ye looked astonished. You could practice martial arts simply by zoning out?
How bizarre!
Immediately, his eyes rolled around, and he stealthily reached out toward the bundle beside Chen Mu.
It looked bulging and plump; surely it must be hiding quite a lot of dried fruit and dried meat, right?
He had frequently seen the little Daoist boy Chengming eating them.
Just the aroma alone was enough to make one's stomach rumble uncontrollably.
Gulp...
Shall I? Give it a try...
Just as he was about to make a move, he noticed two gazes locked onto him.
Zhang Ye turned his head to look.
Eyelids drooping into a slit, with yellowish eyes revealing not the slightest ripple of emotion—that was Jie Jia.
Big, bright eyes blinking with elfin cleverness—that was the little Daoist boy Chengming.
Zhang Ye raised an eyebrow and exchanged a knowing wink with the two of them. "We split fifty-fifty if this succeeds."
Jie Jia remained expressionless, calmly turning his head to gaze forward.
Chengming chuckled softly and lifted the carriage window curtain to peer outside.
Zhang Ye rubbed his hands together in excitement.
He had started out as a street ruffian. Even though he had become a gang leader, his thieving skills had never grown rusty.
He glanced back at the plump County Sub-prefect Du. The man was currently sitting with his eyes closed, feigning sleep.
Splendid, no one was paying attention, no one was going to sound an alarm.
Today, no matter what, this fellow had to taste what those dried fruits and meats actually tasted like!
His rugged hand slipped silently and stealthily into the cloth bag.
Swish!
A sharp, piercing sword tip abruptly materialized right before Zhang Ye's eyes.
Zhang Ye's pupils violently contracted, his entire body freezing stiff in place.
His right hand trembled as he hastily retracted it from the cloth bag.
Whoosh!
The short sword vanished into thin air.
Zhang Ye let out a long, shuddering breath, wiping the cold sweat from his forehead.
He cast a glance at Chen Mu, who still looked completely vacant, as if nothing at all had happened.
Zhang Ye hurriedly shrank back into the deepest recesses of the carriage.
Some people you simply cannot afford to provoke...
"Ha!" The little Daoist boy Chengming couldn't help bursting into laughter at the sight of Zhang Ye's cowardly demeanor.
Then, under Zhang Ye's dumbfounded gaze, he easily fished out two small cloth pouches from the bag.
He handed one to Jie Jia and kept the other for his own enjoyment.
"I paid for them, you know!" Chengming stared at Zhang Ye with a cheeky grin.
Zhang Ye: "..."
...
Little Dongshan, Qingfeng Temple.
Before the completion of the altar, Feng Ren had dismissed the disciples of Qingfeng Temple in batches.
In the plaza before the Patriarch Hall, the bustling martial arts practice scenes of the past were completely gone.
Only a row of pitch-black, iron-cast human dummies remained, looking cold and desolate.
Clang!
A pitch-black fist smashed heavily against an iron dummy.
Sparks flew in all directions.
Clang, clang, clang...
Cheng Yi's fists struck like hammers, landing blows in rapid succession.
Before long, a fractured indentation appeared on the iron dummy.
Splintered iron slag mixed with a dark red, high-temperature glow fell to the ground. Yet Cheng Yi's fists were wreathed in a faint heat, completely unscathed.
He was stripped to the waist, his hair hanging loose at random. Both of his forearms were entirely covered by a layer of pitch-black, translucent film.
This was the soul-strength he had dreamed of.
With the aid of the Longevity Guide, his progress in the body-shaping technique had been lightning-fast. Having already been stuck at the peak of marrow-cleansing, he had swiftly cultivated soul-strength.
The vitality of the Longevity Guide was formidable, rapidly expanding the range of his wandering soul and gradually enveloping both of his arms.
Once it covered his entire body like a suit of armor, his soul-strength would be perfected, achieving armor-soul.
Yet right now, Cheng Yi felt not a shred of joy, continuing to hammer the wooden and iron dummies as if venting his fury.
Beside the martial arts training ground, Wu Yin sat upon a collapsed stone stele.
In one hand he held a small knife, and in the other, a massive braised beef shank.
Slice by slice, he shaved the meat off the beef shank and placed it into the plate before him.
That chubby little brat crouched before the stone stele, standing guard over the white porcelain plate.
Whenever Wu Yin sliced off a piece, the boy snatched it up and shoved it into his mouth, eating until his face shone with grease.
"I heard you also have a junior martial brother," Wu Yin said casually and relaxed, cutting meat to take care of his grandson.
Clang!
Cheng Yi struck the iron dummy with a vicious punch, his eyes brimming with hatred.
If not for his master's favoritism toward that junior brother, he would never have patricided. Nor would he have consumed the Longevity Guide, cutting off his own path to longevity.
Damned Chengming!
Wu Yin chuckled with a hint of amusement. "Actually, it's not like there's no way out."
Cheng Yi whipped his head around, his face a mask of agitation.
Then his expression shifted.
Wu Yin was his martial uncle, yet he was practically at sworn enmity with his master—though they were fellow apprentices nonetheless. But he himself had poisoned his master to death.
Thinking of his dream, Cheng Yi forced out a smile and said, "Please enlighten me, Martial Uncle."
"Tell me about your junior martial brother. Does he have quite an appetite as well?" Wu Yin let out a chuckle, looking thoroughly amused.
Cheng Yi's face twisted for a moment. In the end, suppressing the hatred gnawing at his heart, he gritted his teeth and recounted Chengming's past.
"Ah, Martial Nephew, you truly live up to being from the same sect; our thoughts are identical," Wu Yin paused for a moment before chuckling aloud.
Then he looked at Cheng Yi. "As long as you can bring your junior martial brother to Shouyang Mountain, you can obtain a Myriad Mechanisms Token."
"With the Myriad Mechanisms Token, you can leave this barren land and pursue the Dao of longevity."
"The lingering side effects of the Longevity Guide might just be resolved in that unknown realm."
Cheng Yi was instantly overcome with wild ecstasy.
To think that his junior martial brother actually served such a purpose!
"Your master dismissed his disciples, leaving only you behind. Clearly, he intended to take you with him to Shouyang Mountain."
"What a pity that you tried to be clever and committed patricide for the mere sake of the Longevity Guide."
"Tell me, did my fellow apprentice die an unjust death or not?" Wu Yin asked mockingly.
Cheng Yi's expression remained calm as ancient water. With a new hope kindled, he quickly regained his usual composure.
"These past few days I've been occupied with Master's funeral, so please forgive me, Martial Uncle, if my hospitality has been lacking," Cheng Yi said apologetically.
"My junior brother is young and alone outside; as his martial nephew, I truly cannot set my mind at ease and must go tend to him," Cheng Yi said with utmost sincerity. "I am deeply sorry I cannot stay to serve by your side, Martial Uncle."
Wu Yin pointed at Cheng Yi and burst into laughter. "This sheer hypocrisy of yours, tsk tsk..."
...
Two days later.
In the carriage, Chen Mu's vacant pupils contracted, slowly regaining their focus.
Hah!
He parted his lips and let out a long breath.
Then, abruptly, he began shifting his breathing rhythm.
Though sitting completely still without moving a muscle, his entire body's musculature began to undulate and pulse in rhythm with his breath.
A wave of intense heat radiated outward from his body.
In this winter southern region swept by chilly winds, Chen Mu felt like a human-shaped stove.
The little Daoist boy Chengming couldn't help sliding over to the carriage entrance, pressing close against Chen Mu.
It was simply too warm.
A plume of white mist rose from the top of Chen Mu's head—that was evaporating sweat.
Chen Mu took a deep breath, completing one cycle of the breathing method.
He summoned the gray wall.
Red Falcon Body-Shaping Technique: 5352/10000/Third Tier;
Proficiency increased by one point.
"I really am just an ordinary person after all."
"Ordinary people take ten years to shape their bodies and a hundred years to nurture their souls. At this speed of mine, when on earth will I ever cultivate soul-strength?"
"Some people are born with Dao bones, shaping the body in a hundred days and nurturing the soul in three years. Yet when I practice the breathing method once, it only adds a single point of experience?!"
"An hour yields twenty practices at most."
"And physical conditioning has its limits."
"To rack up a hundred and fifty or sixty proficiency points in a day is already a blessing bestowed by the heavens!"
"Even if everything goes smoothly, wanting to bring marrow-cleansing to completion will still take over a month?!"
"I truly am a disappointing, ordinary person..."
"Brother Chen, what are you so happy about?" Chengming stared at Chen Mu with curiosity.
"Was I happy?"
"Did you see wrong?"
Jie Jia's yellowish eyes slowly rolled over, casting a faint glance at Chen Mu as he said indifferently, "Your mouth was practically split all the way to your ears."
"Impossible, absolutely impossible!"
"This is grief and indignation I'm feeling!"
"It's sorrow!"
"I'm just a person with mediocre talent, what qualifications do I have to be happy?"
"This right here is sadness!"