Chapter 108

When Master Cen asked this question, he was actually being sarcastic. How could such miraculous skills be easily mastered by mere mortals? Others might not know, but surely he, who had witnessed it firsthand, knew? That's why, although he was very curious whether the Seventh Prince was born with extraordinary abilities or had some kind of opportunity later in life, he didn't expect the Seventh Prince to be able to provide an answer.

Unexpectedly, the Seventh Prince nodded and honestly gave a method: "You can learn it. When you cultivate your martial arts to the highest level and your internal energy is abundant enough, it will change into magical power. This process is called quantitative change leading to qualitative change. After learning related techniques, you will be able to use such methods."

"..." Master Cen looked at his sincere face and fell silent.

His initially enthusiastic expression froze upon hearing the first sentence. The whole method sounded simple, but he got stuck on the first step. He really wanted to blurt out: Why don't I want to cultivate my martial arts to the highest level? Is it because I don't want to?

Taoist priests all have a foundation in martial arts. After all, Taoism is not as "benevolent" as Buddhism. Murderers can simply say "lay down the butcher's knife and become a Buddha on the spot" and abandon all their past lives to become monks. Since Buddhism officially flourished in the Central Plains, countless emperors have launched the persecution of Buddhism because of its corruption and filth.

Buddhism exempted people from corvée labor and taxes, leading many who did not engage in productive labor to become monks. However, these people were merely fake monks; they not only indulged in alcohol and meat in private, but also engaged in illicit affairs with female worshippers. Many nunneries were similar, using the guise of Buddhist worship to conduct brothels. Yet, Buddhism also conveyed the idea that "suffering in this life is accumulating blessings for the next life" to the poor, deeply rooted itself in the grassroots, and brought spiritual liberation to the impoverished. This is something that is difficult to eradicate completely.

No matter how many times it is attacked by those in power, as long as there are poor people in the world, Buddhism will spring up again. In fact, the Buddha statues in famous temples are all golden, and the monks are all fat and strong with bulging muscles, more like outlaws than outlaws.

Taoism is different. Those who study Taoism are generally quite willful. Even though Taoist priests will lend a helping hand to those in trouble and will help those in need, they prefer to teach people how to fish rather than give them fish. For example, if a murderer wants to become a disciple of the Three Pure Ones, the Taoist priests will choose to send him directly to see the Three Pure Ones.

Taoism places more emphasis on self-cultivation than on incense offerings. Nowadays, when people think about donating money to accumulate blessings, most think of temples. If strange things happen in their homes or they need to practice alchemy, they will want to find a Taoist priest.

In conclusion, the reason why Taoism, as an indigenous religion of the Central Plains, has not developed as well as Buddhism is due to the different focuses of the two religions. Of course, there is also the most crucial reason mentioned before: Buddhism is more suitable for ruling the country than Taoism. In addition, given the precedent of a certain Xu family fraudster during the Qin Dynasty, those in power may not necessarily support Buddhism, but they will definitely suppress Taoism in secret.

However, the Taoists disdain to submit to the masses. This can be seen from the fact that most of the Taoist temples are located in the mountains, with many hanging on dangerous peaks. Many Taoist temples are unknown to the locals unless they have lived there for seven or eight years. Very few pilgrims can go up to them, and most of them are in a state of near death and in urgent need of rescue.

Master Cen was like this, and so was his disciple Yuansheng. They were both found and saved by the Taoist priest and then kept in the Taoist temple as young Taoist novices. The difference was that Master Cen was abandoned in the mountains by parents who couldn't support their child, while Yuansheng, who had no memory of the incident, was certain that his parents were very loving and cared for him, and that he had simply gotten lost by accident.

In short, because Taoist temples are mostly located on high mountains, if young Taoist priests do not practice their skills well, they will not be able to descend the mountain. Master Cen, who practiced the Boy's Kung Fu, felt this very well.

However, to be honest, when he went down the mountain to take the imperial examination, he was actually quite utilitarian. He just couldn't stand how prosperous the Wanfu Temple next door was. Every time the imperial examination was held, messengers would run into the temple's meditation room. The scholars all thought that Wanfu Temple was very efficacious, while their small, dilapidated Taoist temple, just one hill away, didn't even have a single scholar staying there.

"Master, I must pass the exams and make our Taoist temple famous and renowned, surpassing even Wanfu Temple!" With this in mind, the young Master Cen passed the exams from a child student to a Jinshi (a successful candidate in the highest imperial examinations), eventually becoming an official in the court and mentoring countless students.

When he finally achieved success and fulfilled his ambitions, he became indifferent to fame and fortune, and his feelings gradually became similar to those of his master: there was nothing wrong with the small, dilapidated Taoist temple; it was peaceful, and it would have been better if the temple next door wasn't Wanfu Temple.

“Your martial arts skills have regressed somewhat. With some hard work, you can quickly reach the level of a first-rate master.” Xue Jin’an scanned Cen Fuzi’s body and easily deduced his internal strength level from various details and data.

Master Cen coughed somewhat embarrassedly: "Ahem, I guess I'm getting old."

Actually, it's because he's getting older and has a young apprentice to take over his skills. Lately, he's become somewhat lax in his training. Martial arts are like rowing against the current; if you don't advance, you fall behind.

"Master, are you really that skilled? I never would have guessed. Shall we have a little sparring?" Cui Zui asked with some interest, weighing the bow in his hand. "Tell me how you and your master met."

Seeing that Xue Jin'an didn't seem to care much about being found out, Master Cen readily nodded in agreement: "Old... cough, there's definitely something to talk about regarding the Seventh Prince."

Before engaging in a demonstration with Cui Zui, Master Cen hesitated for a long time before finally asking Xue Jin'an a question: "Your Highness, how long does it take for quantitative change to lead to qualitative change?"

He was still very interested in that magical art. He would start working hard now, and perhaps he could climb to the ranks of the top masters before he died. As the saying goes, "If I hear the Dao in the morning, I can die content in the evening." Even if he only saw that magical world for a blink of an eye, he would feel it was worth it.

Xue Jin'an quickly calculated for him, "Cultivation depends on comprehension. With your talent, there is a 72% chance that it will be 120 years from now."

Master Cen: "...I am sixty-nine years old this year." Let alone living to be one hundred and twenty years from now, he feels that even twenty years would be difficult.

"How did you manage to master this?" He had only been cultivating since birth for eight years, how could he have developed such powerful techniques? Master Cen felt like ants were crawling all over his mind.

Xue Jin'an tilted his head: "I was born with this skill."

He is a weapon spirit. Before the weapon spirit was born, his physical body was already in the protagonist's arms. Weapons only form weapon spirits under very special circumstances. This requires the master to take good care of the weapon and nurture it with spiritual essence at all times... After a series of picky and meticulous conditions, there is only a one in ten thousand chance that a weapon spirit will be born. Otherwise, everyone in the cultivation world would have a weapon spirit.

In the cultivation world, some people regard the spirit of a weapon as a gift from the Heavenly Dao to cultivators. As a spirit of a weapon, it inherits all the memories of the original body, which can even be traced back to the time when it was first fished out and made into the shape of a weapon. The inherited memories, along with everything in those memories, are exposed without reservation.

Master Cen: "..."

Seeing him like this reminded Cui Zui of himself when he was first shocked by his master's archery skills and then learned that "anyone can do it." He felt a sense of kinship and pity, so he added a friendly jab, "A master is a master. What are you comparing yourself to? Are you just asking for humiliation?"

"...This is your master, not my master. Please be aware of this." Master Cen gave him a long, meaningful look.

The two were filled with unprecedented fighting spirit, and immediately retreated to an open space, intending to fight hand-to-hand. Before they started, Cui Zui asked, "By the way, you came for the Ministry of Rites, right? The palace gates are about to be locked, isn't it alright to ask your master first?"

"Hehe, don't worry about this, young friend Cui, I have my own solution." Master Cen sneered, thinking to himself: How dare the Ministry of Rites not trust our little ancestor and not launch a precise attack on the Rongdi? They're really asking for a beating! You old bastard Yang Shunzhi, you just wait!

Master Cen arrived at the Ministry of Rites before the officials left work, and half-forcefully stuffed a piece of paper into his hand, saying, "Take a good look, this is all what you deserve."

“…Hmm?” Yang Cong felt something was off, but he still unfolded the paper and recognized the handwriting as that of Master Cen. This long poem, which would become a required classical poem for the college entrance examination a thousand years later, had a resounding and large title: “A Proclamation Against Yang Shunzhi”.

The author used a proclamation to fully record the grievances between the Rongdi and the Seventh Prince, then used a well-structured couplet to criticize the Rongdi, interspersed with a couple of classical allusions, and then devoted a large portion of the text to insulting the Ministry of Rites, especially the Minister of Rites, Yang Cong and Yang Shunzhi.

He is described as "indiscriminate in his judgments," "possessing only the desire for peace without regard to right or wrong—a fine quality that has existed since ancient times," "causing pain to loved ones and joy to enemies," and "like Zhao Gao and Li Si in times of national crisis"... He has created many classic quotes that will become classics in the future, making people want to slap their thighs in amazement. In short, he is very well written and very impressive, and his impressiveness is immediately apparent.

He would feel even better if these comments weren't directed at him.

Yang Cong: "..."

Once he realized what was happening, Yang Cong looked at Master Cen, who had already run far away, and felt an itch in his legs and fists. He grinned maliciously and said, "It's time to go up the mountain again and sleepwalk and kill someone."

Cui Pengfei and Cui Zai also wanted to sleepwalk.

When Cui Pengfei received the thick stack of papers that Cui Zui had brought from the palace, he actually felt a little hesitant. He prepared himself mentally, but in the end, he still lit a lamp and read it at night. Then... he took a feather duster and stood silently by Cui Zui's bedside, staring at his peaceful sleeping face.

Cui Zui, who usually sleeps very well, suddenly woke up with a start. He felt as if there were eyes watching him in his dream. He took a few deep breaths and relaxed a little. When he looked up, he met a pair of eyes in the darkness.

"Whoa!" Cui Zui was so startled he almost rolled off the bed.

"You haven't done anything wrong, what are you afraid of?" Grandfather's voice slowly came from the darkness.

Cui Zui breathed a sigh of relief and complained, "Grandfather, what are you doing? Master said that people can scare each other to death."

"Oh, it's nothing. I just have a problem I can't figure out and can't sleep." Cui Pengfei's voice was ethereal, like a ghost.

"What?" Cui Zui asked curiously.

Cui Pengfei glanced at him: "It's nothing, I just don't quite understand. The Seventh Prince spends most of his time in the deep palace, so who do you think could have corrupted him? Hmm?"

As he spoke, he waved the feather duster in his hand, making a "swish" sound in the air like a whip cutting through the air.

Cui Zui: "..." He breathed a sigh of relief too soon.

Seeing his grandfather's increasingly dangerous gaze, Cui Zui paused for a moment, then said decisively, "Grandfather, it must be because of the Rongdi."

Cui Zui laid out the entire entanglement between the Seventh Prince and the Rongdi in a rapid-fire manner, of course omitting the part where Prince La'an got involved.

Cui Pengfei could tell that he was hiding something, but he didn't expose him. He just sneered, "Heh, Rongdi, Ministry of Rites."

The Rong and Di tribes were the main culprits, and the Ministry of Rites, unable to make the right judgment, was also a contributing factor. It seems he's been retired for too long; those incompetent officials in the Ministry of Rites have forgotten who he, Cui Zai, is!

Minister Yang, who was climbing the mountain in the middle of the night, suddenly shivered.