Chapter 41: Genius

“Take off your clothes.”

A’Ming took off his clothes.

“Lie down.”

A’Ming lay down on the wooden board.

The Blind Man Bei turned toward Ding Hao and asked, “Do we need to prep the skin?”

Ding Hao, sitting in a chair, asked in confusion, “What does ‘prep the skin’ mean?”

Ding Hao found this group very strange. Their personalities were strange, and so was the way they did things.

But right now, he was fish on someone else’s chopping block. He could only do his best to fit in and avoid becoming the odd one out.

“It means cleaning the skin first, and shaving off any troublesome hair that gets in the way.”

Lying on the board, A’Ming silently raised his middle finger at the Blind Man.

凸!

“Uh... no. No need.”

Ding Hao immediately shook his head.

“Mm? No need?”

There was the faintest trace of disappointment in the Blind Man Bei’s voice.

Then, he seemed to sense the furious “stare” coming from A’Ming beside him.

He pressed a hand downward.

“This is so Master can understand and learn more easily. Naturally, we must eliminate every possible distraction and strive for perfection. Please understand.”

“I understand.”

“See? I’ve always trusted your sense of responsibility. All right, Fourth Lady, are the needle and thread ready?”

“Ready.”

“Use a thicker needle. That way Master will be able to see it more clearly.”

“Fine.”

“...”

A’Ming.

“All right, Mr. Ding. You may begin.”

Ding Hao craned his neck forward. He wanted to point with his hand, but with the tendons in his wrists severed, it was difficult to do so.

“No matter. Just describe it verbally.”

The Blind Man Bei opened his palm. A silver coin from a Western merchant caravan floated into the air and began circling over A’Ming’s body.

“Mr. Bei, are you a mage?”

Ding Hao was astonished by the sight.

“Mr. Ding, you can understand it that way. However, several of us here are somewhat unusual. At first, you may find it difficult to get used to us, but please rest assured.

“Given enough time, you’ll become numb to it.”

“Oh... all right.”

“Mr. Ding, shall we begin? Please explain your body-tempering and qi-circulation method again. We’ll mark the route here.”

“Very well. I’ll only explain the parts I understand.”

“That would be best.”

After all, you can be replaced.

Once they had squeezed everything at your level out of you, and once Master had entered the grades, then with everyone rising along with the tide, they could happily go to Sheep Village and catch the next sheep.

“The first step for a Martial Artist is tempering the body. When you’re young, you begin with the fundamentals.”

Hearing this, Feng Siniang immediately lost some enthusiasm.

“Well, doesn’t that mean Master is hopeless?”

Never mind that Master was already this old. If he had to temper his bones and sinews from childhood, how many years would that take?

“No, no, that isn’t what I mean. Childhood training is really only about laying a foundation. The workload isn’t particularly heavy, because a child’s bones haven’t fully developed yet. They can practice basic forms, but if they forcefully begin true cultivation at that age, then unless they’re talented descendants of great clans with enough heavenly treasures and rare medicines to replenish them, for the vast majority of Martial Artists it would be killing the hen to get the eggs.”

“You heard Teacher. Listen properly and stop interrupting.”

The Blind Man Bei warned Feng Siniang.

“I know.”

The Fourth Lady gave a thoroughly perfunctory curtsy.

“The foundation of the human body lies in qi and blood. As for Ninth Grade Martial Artists, entering the grades means refining that qi and blood into usable power.

“Every lineage has its own martial methods, and their ways of circulating qi differ. What I’m about to explain is the method of my own lineage.

“First, gather qi at the Empty Valley.”

“Is the Empty Valley here? Or here?”

The terminology in this world differed from the acupuncture points of traditional Chinese medicine in the Blind Man Bei’s original world, so he could only move the silver coin from one position to another and test them.

“A little higher. Yes. There. That’s it.”

“Oh. Here.”

The Empty Valley was located slightly above the navel.

Under the Blind Man Bei’s mental control, the silver coin settled over the spot.

“Fourth Lady. Do it.”

“Got it.”

Feng Siniang picked up a threaded needle and drove it straight into that point on A’Ming’s body.

“...”

Ding Hao.

“How does it feel?” the Blind Man Bei asked A’Ming.

“What do you want me to feel?”

“Anything a little... warm?”

“My blood is cold.”

“Oh. Sorry. Forgot.”

The Blind Man Bei then “looked” toward Ding Hao.

“Sir, what comes next?”

“Well... Mr. Bei, we could simply draw a diagram. We really don’t have to do this...”

Such a thick silver needle had been stabbed directly into the man, as though his body were nothing more than embroidery cloth.

Even Ding Hao, a man who had weathered countless storms, felt his eyelids twitch.

It was like a heroic policeman still being afraid of a toothache.

Yet the man lying on the wooden board behaved as though nothing were happening, simply letting them torment him.

“It’s fine. A drawing isn’t three-dimensional enough. Making a model would waste time, and there’s no specimen more suitable than a living human body.

“Please continue.”

“Oh... all right. Once qi gathers at the Empty Valley, it divides into five paths, flowing toward the four limbs and the head. It enters the Left You, Right You, Left Chen, Right Chen, and Divine Platform.”

“Here? Then here? And after that, here?”

“Yes. Those five acupoints.”

“Mm. I see. Fourth Lady, do it.”

“Fine.”

Five more needle wounds appeared on A’Ming’s body.

When Feng Siniang reached the point between A’Ming’s brows, A’Ming looked at her and warned, “If you damage my brain, I’ll die.”

The rest of his body could be used however they liked, but the brain was comparatively fragile.

“All right, all right. I know what I’m doing.”

Feng Siniang was quite displeased that A’Ming would actually doubt her craftsmanship.

Ding Hao was already growing numb to the sight of embroidery being performed on a living man. Once that section was finished, he did not even wait for the Blind Man Bei to ask.

“Afterward, the qi and blood flow back into the heart and lungs!”

Hearing this, the Blind Man Bei signaled Feng Siniang to continue embroidering the route while asking, “So all the qi and blood in the body are gathered together, then used to stimulate cardiopulmonary function?

“And after that stimulation, the remaining qi naturally gathers again at the Empty Valley, then divides once more, beginning a new cycle?”

Ding Hao thought through the Blind Man’s phrasing and nodded.

“Yes.”

The Blind Man Bei reached up and pushed at the nonexistent frame of his glasses.

Then he continued his analysis.

“So this concentrates the body’s internal power, uses the heart and lungs as an accelerator, then accelerates everything again. Repeating the cycle continuously multiplies the speed and efficiency of the body’s various functions.

“Is that essentially correct, Mr. Ding?”

“Uh... I don’t know what this ‘accelerator’ you’re talking about is, Mr. Bei, but it does sound correct.”

“Mm. Then it makes sense.

“Those Martial Artists who glow—that is one manifestation of accelerated qi and blood. What determines the color? The attribute of their power?”

“It varies from person to person. As for color, it depends on the Five Elements and several other characteristics of one’s power.”

“Mm. Then those whose light merely flashes once and disappears are only capable of accelerating briefly. They cannot sustain it.

“Whereas those who can remain glowing throughout a battle have refined this circulation of qi and blood into a state of dynamic equilibrium. As long as their qi and blood aren’t exhausted, they can keep it circulating.”

“Yes. Generally speaking, once you can produce that light, you’ve touched the threshold of the Martial Artist realm. In smaller clans, you could already serve as a household expert. In the army, you could become a minor officer.

“But a true Ninth Grade Martial Artist is like a scholar passing the provincial examinations. You have properly crossed the threshold and can be considered someone of standing in the local area.

“When I first joined the army, I learned martial arts there. It took me five years to reach half-step Ninth Grade, then another ten years to finally enter the Ninth Grade itself.

“Even in the army, that was considered astonishingly fast!”

Whenever people spoke of their past glories, a certain radiance inevitably returned to their faces.

The Blind Man Bei, however, could not be bothered helping Ding Hao brag.

Instead, he patted A’Ming on the shoulder.

“Come on. Give it a try. The qi-circulation route is already embroidered onto your body. Just follow the diagram.”

A’Ming frowned slightly.

“I still don’t understand what the ‘qi’ in qi and blood actually means.”

The Blind Man Bei replied casually, “When you encounter an unfamiliar character, just pronounce whichever half of it you recognize. Most of the time you won’t be too far off.

“You don’t understand qi, but you know how to control blood. So control your blood and make it travel along the route. If blood moves fast enough, it ought to stir up wind.

“That’s qi.”

“You make so much sense I somehow can’t refute you.”

“Try it.”

“You can’t experiment recklessly!”

Ding Hao hurriedly interrupted.

“You have to proceed little by little. Start by gathering qi, then slowly divide it path by path. Martial cultivation must be gradual.

“First temper the body until you have a strong physique. Only then should you circulate qi. That keeps the danger to a minimum. You can’t become fat in a single mouthful—this... this is impossible!”

Ding Hao’s words abruptly jammed in his throat.

Because he saw

A’Ming, still lying on the wooden board, suddenly bloom with a crimson radiance!

“This... this... this...”

Ding Hao’s mouth fell wide open.

This soldier had experienced countless events without ever becoming as flustered as he was now, because everything he had encountered before had still fallen within the bounds of his understanding.

But the sight before him was overturning that understanding.

The man had merely lain there while someone embroidered on him.

And then immediately... he... he...

“He’s already... half-step Ninth Grade?”

A’Ming smiled at the stunned Ding Hao.

He raised a hand, flicked his wrist as though nothing had happened, and said, “Pretty easy.”

(End of Chapter)