Mount Emei, Sichuan
More than a hundred li away from the main peak of Mount Emei, there stood another mountain. It was a little shorter than the main peak, but far more beautiful—and far more perilous. Ordinary people could at most reach the mountainside. Even the best hunters of Emei had never set foot on the summit, because above the waist of the mountain the slopes were terrifyingly steep—seventy to eighty degrees at places. Dense primeval forest covered everything, with no paths to follow.
At night, the mountain echoed with the howls of wild beasts, and venomous creatures were everywhere. For the sake of their lives, almost no one dared to venture up.
Yet at the very top of this mountain was a small flat clearing. At this moment, a child was practicing拳法 there. His punches were like the wind, his withdrawals calm and steady. A full set of Luohan Fist flowed seamlessly, completed in one smooth breath.
That child was none other than little Siqi. He was now eight years old and had been here for more than four years.
When he first arrived, Monk Liaofan had prepared a large vat, built a fire beneath it, and every day gathered various medicinal herbs from the mountain. These were placed into the vat with a precise ratio of water, and then little Siqi himself was lowered in and boiled—medicine and all.
One vat of medicine contained eighty-two different herbs. By weight alone, the herbs amounted to more than two hundred jin. Each batch had to be boiled for seven days before the herbs and water were replaced. Every night, Liaofan also performed acupuncture and true-qi massage on Siqi. In this way, after seven cycles of seven days—forty-nine days in total—the Red Scorpion-Centipede poison in Siqi's body was completely eradicated.
At the same time, the medicinal mixture contained many tonics. Siqi's body became far stronger, laying a solid foundation for his future training.
Once the poison was cleared, Siqi's daily lessons increased sharply.
Every morning and evening, he practiced sitting meditation for two hours, cultivating Liaofan's "Yi Jin Yi Yuan Art." This technique originated from a secret manual called Hun Yuan Yi Qi Gong, which Liaofan had discovered twenty years earlier in an unknown stone cave while passing through Mount Hua.
At first, Liaofan thought he had obtained another martial arts manual. But upon reading it, he realized it was actually a Daoist text. It focused on drawing in the qi of heaven and earth, attaining harmony with nature. Practicing it did not greatly increase raw power, but it greatly enhanced perception. One could sense people and objects tens of meters away—even without seeing them—like a human radar.
Liaofan was overjoyed. Over twenty years, he fused the Shaolin Yi Jin Jing with Hun Yuan Yi Qi Gong, creating this new art: Yi Jin Yi Yuan Gong. As one's internal strength deepened, the range of perception expanded accordingly.
Hun Yuan Yi Qi Gong had ten levels.
he first level allowed sensing within one centimeter.
Each subsequent level increased the sensing range tenfold.
Relying on his deep internal foundation, Liaofan himself had reached the seventh level in three years. Little Siqi, meanwhile, had already reached the second level.
Mornings were devoted mostly to meditation and fist practice—these were the fundamentals. Afternoons were for scholarly study. Liaofan was determined to cultivate a peerless disciple, so he gathered an enormous number of books, roughly in three categories:
1.Buddhist Scriptures – As a monk, these were easiest for him to obtain. There were hundreds of volumes, including the Diamond Sutra, Heart Sutra, Śūraṅgama Sutra, and many more.
2.Medical Texts – This was Siqi's favorite category: Chinese Materia Medica, Secrets of Acupuncture, Treatise on Cold Damage, Meridians and Acupoints, The Yellow Emperor's Inner Canon, Compendium of Materia Medica, and dozens more.
3.Classical Literature – The Four Books and Five Classics, Tang poetry, Song lyrics, and countless other great works.
The funniest part was that Liaofan had even obtained a pile of foreign-language books—English, German, Italian, French, Russian, Japanese, and more.
Having traveled widely in recent years, Liaofan knew that China had opened up to the world. His disciple would surely have opportunities to go abroad one day. It never occurred to him that simply buying books wasn't enough—you had to know how to speak the languages, not just recognize characters. But he didn't worry about such details: he bought them first and figured things out later.
As for money, Liaofan earned it by practicing medicine at the foot of the mountain. In the past, feeding himself alone was easy. Now that he had a disciple, a stable source of income was necessary.
Fortunately, little Siqi was extraordinarily gifted. As he continued cultivating Yi Jin Yi Qi Gong, his focus and memory grew stronger by the day—nearly photographic. During foundational internal training, concentration had to be absolute. After reaching the third level, even without deliberate attention, true qi would circulate along its own pathways.
Since strong memory depended on strong focus, over three years Siqi managed to go through nearly all these books. Though he couldn't pinpoint which character appeared on which line of which page, he could recite most of them fluently. True understanding, of course, was another matter—his age and lack of real-world experience limited him.
After finishing Luohan Fist, Siqi glanced at the sky. It was nearly noon.
He returned to his dwelling—a small cave that had been modified into living quarters. Inside were two chambers, one for him and one for Liaofan. Each "room" contained little more than a large flat stone slab propped up as a bed, topped with a straw mat and a thin blanket. Everything was simple but neatly arranged.
One wall of his room held several hundred books—the various texts his master had collected. Outside stood a stone table—really just a large flat rock—with two smaller stone stools beside it.
"Looks like Master won't be back for lunch today," Siqi muttered to himself.
He walked to the outdoor cooking area, lit the fire, washed rice, cooked it, washed vegetables, chopped them, stir-fried, and set the pot to steam. In no time at all, he had prepared his meal with practiced ease. This was clearly not his first time.
The rice had been bought by his master in the valley. The dishes were braised tofu and stir-fried wild rabbit meat.
After eating, it was time for lessons again.
First, he used a brush to copy two passages of scripture, converting traditional characters into simplified ones. Many Buddhist texts used traditional characters, and Liaofan worried that Siqi would struggle later in the outside world. He had given him a Xinhua Dictionary—any unfamiliar character had to be looked up.
Next came medical studies—Siqi's favorite. Traditional Chinese medicine involved acupuncture, prescriptions, and qi-transmission therapy. The first two could be learned by ordinary people, though mastery was another matter. Qi-transmission, however, required internal strength and was beyond most.
At Siqi's current stage, his main task was memorizing the locations of acupoints and the precise depth of needle insertion. This was critical: even if the point was correct, being slightly too deep or too shallow could drastically affect the outcome.
Every day, Liaofan gave him several case studies. Siqi would mark the required acupoints on diagrams of the human body and note the exact needle depth for each.
After that came the Compendium of Materia Medica. Almost all known medicinal substances were recorded in it. Even memorizing it completely could still lead to mistakes—some herbs needed to be dried for certain conditions, fresh for others. Medicinal properties differed between spring and autumn, morning and evening.
Thus, one book contained knowledge worth more than ten. Fortunately, this was something Siqi could practice directly. The mountain was full of medicinal herbs. While not comprehensive, it was more than sufficient.
So this lesson involved roaming the mountain every day, identifying different herbs, and annotating their properties and therapeutic uses.
As for the other cultural subjects, they were mostly rote memorization—something Siqi had long since mastered thanks to his exceptional memory.
By the time all lessons were finished, dusk had fallen. Only now did Siqi have time for himself.
He put all the books back in his room, then came out again, strapping two sandbags to his calves. In one hand, he carried a small bow.
Judging by his preparations, he was heading out to hunt—for fun.