Chapter Four: "God"

As for reading—

Perhaps if one delved deeply enough and truly acquired knowledge, it would have the effect Uncle Zhong described, but certainly not in the short term. He had no desire to remain powerless his whole life.

"Of course not.

What I do is commonly called 'walking the shadowed path'—it simply means being someone able to communicate with those things.

Naturally, when necessary, I can hold my own for a round or two as well.

It’s one of the methods from the Daoist tradition.

But what I’ve learned is actually quite superficial. In the trade, there’s a saying that I haven’t truly entered the door; I can only make a living in these villages within a few miles.

Passing down these skills requires a great deal from a person. First and foremost, one must have enough 'spirit.' Lacking that, even with a master, you wouldn’t be able to learn, no matter how hard you try."

As he spoke, Uncle Zhong sighed.

In his youth, he had high ambitions and was lucky enough to follow a master. Yet, though his 'spirit' was stronger than most, it was still limited.

So, in the end, he only learned a handful of basic techniques, and had no choice but to return in defeat.

Fortunately, even these simple, rudimentary methods were enough to deal with the strange occurrences in the village and gradually earned him a reputation.

Indeed, some would walk miles over the mountain paths just to seek his help.

"'Spirit?'"

Chen Yushu was taken aback.

"It's a term for innate sensitivity—the simplest way to put it is, the ability to see ghosts.

Most people can’t see them; only those with enough 'spirit' can.

And unless you can see them, you can't harm them. If you can't see them, it's useless.

There is, of course, another exception—someone like you, who has spent enough time with 'it,' absorbing its Yin energy. In that case, you can see them too. But by then, you’re essentially in its grasp, with little room to resist."

Uncle Zhong explained.

"So that’s why you turned me down?

Because my 'spirit' isn’t enough?"

Suddenly, Chen Yushu understood.

Uncle Zhong glanced at him, silent, as if by way of confirmation.

"What about martial arts?"

Eagerly, Chen Yushu pressed on. By now, he knew his father intended to send him to the Liu family’s pharmacy to learn martial arts, and he was filled with anticipation.

"Martial arts don’t have such requirements. As long as you’re willing to learn and work diligently, you can succeed.

Moreover, if you attain mastery in martial arts, there’s no reason you can’t later study our trade as well.

Because with enough progress in martial arts, your 'spirit' grows, too.

Naturally, you can then pick up the special skills of our line of work.

That’s why you’ll sometimes hear of 'entering the Way through martial arts.'

It refers to those who achieve great prowess in martial arts and then turn to Daoist cultivation."

Of course, such people are rare, because once a martial artist reaches that level, their strength is already formidable—stronger than many with spiritual abilities—so there’s little reason for them to pursue these arts.

As the two spoke, Chen Yushu’s eyes were opened, and his hopes for the future grew.

With mastery in martial arts, one could still pursue the Dao.

Between martial arts and the Dao, he naturally yearned to cultivate Daoist arts and become immortal... Though he couldn’t be sure if immortals truly existed in this world, it was certainly a place of wonders and endless possibility.

Soon, they arrived at the wooden bridge.

Perhaps it was nearly time for breakfast, because many who’d been working in the fields were returning.

Villagers greeted them as they passed, and they responded in turn. Suddenly, they noticed a little girl standing on the bridge.

She was called a little girl, but in truth, she was a bit older than Chen Yushu—her small, frail stature likely due to malnutrition.

Her hair hung loose, her clothes were filthy, and her face was dotted with pockmarks.

She stood at the center of the bridge, motionless, staring at the water’s surface.

"Qiao Wa, what’s wrong?"

A middle-aged woman, likely her mother, called out.

"The fish are about to come out," the girl replied.

"Fish? What fish?"

The woman looked at the water but saw nothing.

The river was clear, and from the bridge above, one could see small fish darting to and fro—some were quite large.

"Big fish," the girl answered.

Big fish!

When Chen Yushu heard this, something flashed in his mind. Almost instinctively, his gaze shifted to the large stone above the river.

The fish-mouthed stone.

At this moment, it looked much as it had the last time he saw it, except the water level seemed lower, so that the 'fish eye,' which had previously been half-submerged, was now fully exposed, giving off a strange, eerie feeling.

It was as if the fish’s eye was wide open, watching everyone on the bridge.

The sensation made his skin crawl, reminding him of the dread he felt when the little ghost had approached the previous day.

Could there truly be something wrong with this stone?

"Why are you just standing there? Let’s go," Uncle Zhong said, clapping him on the shoulder and hurrying him across the bridge.

He seemed especially cold toward the girl and her mother; as they crossed, he said nothing and did not greet them as he had the other villagers.

Chen Yushu vaguely understood why. It had something to do with old grudges from the previous generation, involving the entire village. Because of this, the mother and daughter were regarded as outcasts. Few were willing to speak with them.

Even children like Chen Yushu had been quietly warned to keep their distance.

Before long, the two arrived at Chen Yushu’s house.

Chen Baihe was already waiting and warmly welcomed Uncle Zhong inside.

Zhao Hehua had been busy all morning, preparing seven or eight dishes. The table was overflowing—with fish, and even a special old hen, making the meal more sumptuous than New Year’s.

By the time they were full, an hour had passed.

...

"With enough martial skill, you can kill ghosts.

Walking the shadowed path, Daoist arts, entering the Way through martial arts..."

After the meal, Chen Yushu sat in his courtyard, his mind still turning over Uncle Zhong’s words.

But in the end, he knew too little to make sense of it all.

So he set the thoughts aside, took out his books, and resumed his reading and writing.

Reading +3

Reading +4

Calligraphy +2

Calligraphy +3

...

Since the book was new, his progress in reading advanced rapidly.

By the end of the day, his attribute panel had improved significantly:

Name: Chen Yushu

Age: 12

Skills:

Reading: Literacy (64/100), Calligraphy: Self-taught (42/100)

...

"At this rate, I should reach full proficiency in literacy within two days.

I wonder what will happen once I break through a hundred in reading..."

Chen Yushu could not help but look forward to it.

Two days passed in a flash.

Today was the day of the big market in town.

The town closest to Beijiao Village was called Jianghuan, nearly encircled by a great river, with only the north side—their direction—bordering the mountains.

Thanks to the thriving waterways, boats were plentiful, making the town relatively prosperous.

The so-called 'big market' was a fair held every so often, drawing people from all the surrounding villages. Smaller markets took place on the third and sixth days, and the ninth was reserved for the big market.

Not only was the big market more crowded, but the goods on offer were more varied and unusual. There were even troupes performing, making the town livelier than ever.