Chapter 34: Creating A Cultivation Manual

Translator: EndlessFantasy Translation  Editor: EndlessFantasy Translation

“Yo! It actually works?” Jiang He stared at that particular area of Mu Wanqiu’s body, nodding as he praised, “Not bad, there is quite a bit of growth… What are you doing shielding them? I only have the heart of a healer and no other thoughts. That said, you could undress later and I’ll help you set up a detailed second puberty plan.”

Mu Wanqiu kept her hands over her breasts in response, gritting her teeth while a spark ignited over fingertips.

Jiang He laughed. “It’s just a joke. You don’t have to be that annoyed, do you?” He then brought a stool to her and sat down himself. “How many more corncobs you need? Well, I’d personally suggest two more. If they get too big, they might affect you in a fight, and they’ll droop easily too.”

Mu Wanqiu clenched her fists. She had the feeling Jiang He was using her to spew lewd jokes, and yet… he was somehow speaking reason.

She mused to herself for a few seconds before saying, “Jiang He, aside from buying those corncobs, I’ve come today to discuss something with you.”

“I know what you mean.” Jiang He had an ‘all according to my plan’ look on his face and smiled. “My corn is wonderful for the ladies. It’s so large and thick, and its taste is amazing. A woman like Miss Mu could hardly resist it.”

Clenching her teeth, Mu Wanqiu finally couldn’t hold back from exclaiming angrily, “What are you talking about, Jiang He?”

“You’ve misunderstood, Miss Mu. I have no intention of mocking your flatness.”

“What…” Taking a deep breath, Mu Wanqiu ran her hand along her breast and tried her best to make herself look calm. “Jiang He, how many of these corns do you have? Would you allow the National Superpower Research Department to sell them on your behalf?”

“Sure,” replied Jiang He. “I found these in a cornfield out in the wild so there aren’t many. I can only provide you with sixty, and I’ll sell them to you for the base price of five hundred thousand dollars. That said, I could also directly sell all sixty corns to you, and it’s your own business how you’ll handle that.”

“Sixty…” Mu Wanqiu’s eyes sparkled. “Alright. I’ll make a call to gather the money. You should ready the corns.”

Jiang He pretended as if he was returning to his room to take out all sixty corns he had left in his System backpack. As he put them on the floor, he noticed that Mu Wanqiu was reading the cultivation manual he wrote.

“Breezing Smoke Flight?” Lowering the paper, she quickly added, “Sorry, Jiang He. I didn’t know you were copying martial arts.

Jiang He walked up to her and started writing once more, smiling. “It’s fine. I thought about creating a cultivation manual on a whim. You are quite knowledgable, Miss Mu, why not give me your opinions for reference?”

Mu Wanqiu was left confused. Seemingly unable to hear what Jiang He said clearly, she muttered, “Creating a cultivation manual?”

Jiang He did not answer, and continued to write. “Move like a bat, a phantom’s form that comes and goes without leaving a trace, like smoke taking flight over a breeze…”

And then…

Writer’s block.

Taking out a qi pellet and throwing it down his mouth, Jiang He turned on his phone and went on Baidu.

“Why did you stop writing?” exclaimed Mu Wanqiu in surprise.

“Checking some information.”

Mu Wanqiu was blue with shock and left speechless. “Jiang He, martial arts and cultivation must not be fabricated on whims. If it goes wrong, one would break their own mind if it was a minor case, or die when they hurt their essence in serious cases.”

“It’s fine.”

Jiang He ate another qi pellet. One might describe it as being addictive. Like having sunflower seeds in your pockets, you would take a few out to chew on from time to time.

Beside him, Mu Wanqiu was left stunned once again. “Jiang He… A-are you eating qi pellets? Those are very rare, and consuming each pellet requires meticulous refinement. Not only would eating them continuously diminish their medical value, having too many would easily develop excess that complicates cultivation.”

Jiang He said nothing. Meanwhile, he scrounged around on Baidu but couldn’t find any qinggong mnemonic chants, although he did find a news article about a Shaolin monk’s experience in practicing the ‘Walking On Water’ qinggong.

“I’m Liang of Reason Interpretation. My old name is Wu Xiaoliang, a monk of Quanzhou’s Shaolin Temple. I started training in Walking On Water when I was twenty-three years old, and after five years of secret training, I ran a record hundred and twenty-five meters on water with a one-centimeter thick plywood…”

Jiang He knew that it was nonsense when he saw the description.

Sure, there were real martial arts legends in this world, but they rarely showed themselves to normal people before the Revival of Qi, let alone be interviewed or captured on camera. Those who often make public appearances, such as Tai Chi masters and those who claim they can punch things across thin air, were just a bunch of liars.

Still, nonsense or whatnot was fine—Jiang He was also making things up anyway. So, why not copy away since that was much easier, instead of having to rack his brains himself?

Hence, Jiang He began to copy the Shaolin monk’s words on paper, “Qinggong is another term for parkour, and it refers to leaping higher and jumping further.”

‘Are you toying with me?’ Jiang He complained inwardly even as he continued copying.

“The body is light when the qi is clear; the body is heavy when the qi is turbid. Such is the measure dictated by Laozi, one of the three pure ones.”

“The form is light as a swallow and a lotus; mastery permits perching over branches and other different developments. Weights are light as if it were nothing, while the exceeding incorporeal forms is like a godly stride.”

“Remember to develop the limbs and understand balance by observing dragonflies; a wave of true qi lifts the chest, permitting you to leap into the air and turn with the tips of your toes; the leaves of the reed crosses the river, but it all depends on the divine effectiveness of balance.”

Jiang He couldn’t stop laughing out loud even as he copied.

Beside him, Mu Wanqiu was at an utter loss for words. Creating a cultivation method?

It looked more like Jiang He was bamboozling himself… but it didn’t look like he was just practicing calligraphy either, since who would do that with a pencil? Most importantly, his writing was no more than just scribbles.

Holding back his laughter, Jiang He continued browsing through articles related to the ‘Shaolin monk’. “Eh? He even divided qinggong into six folds? Time to copy it down!”

“Qingong is the heavens in six folds, each fold a threshold of the skies.”

“The first fold, walking over water, requires wooden planks and the mnemonic chant: All life was once born divine, but as the mind and spirit pulls all down to the mortal realm, only feats would pull one up again.”

“The second fold, flight over grass, requires rope and the mnemonic chant: Above humans is Buddha and the gods. Every animal and plant desires progress, while humans are mostly in the middle.”

“The third fold, flight over trees, requires wires and the mnemonic chant—”

“Damn it, I can’t write this down!” yelled Jiang He, flinging his pencil away.

Mu Wanqiu did a double take. “Why not?”

Glowering, Jiang He barked, “How am I supposed to write it down? Look at this fool: the fourth fold of his qinggong is called flying amongst clouds, but it requires a parachute! Most importantly, the mnemonic chant may be artistic, but it is just blind ramblings, yet it still gives me a profound feeling!”

Mu Wanqiu glanced at the phone screen and found that it read, “Being above or beneath the heaves within a thought, but an empty mind transcends the heavens and all thresholds, completely connecting a body to the universe.”

“The fifth fold, the so-called cosmos dance, is even more ridiculous. You have to use a space shuttle, and the mnemonic chant is ‘daily ascetic permits ascendancy to a being of grand moral feats. The universe is insignificant to such existences, for the light hangs upon their horizons’,” said Jiang He.

Cursing, he turned to the sixth fold. Called the ‘dance of the three pure ones’, it was much more normal.

Like the others, it relied on one’s vigor and a mnemonic chant… although the childish chant read as thus: ‘Seek the release from the mundane and the sentimental to leap beyond the three worlds and five elements. How would thresholds and heaves compare to that!’

Mu Wanqiu was laughing herself silly, while Jiang He quietly made his conclusion about the six folds.

“Luckily, there are only six folds. Wouldn’t it be the Blind Princess’ Eighth Practices if it were eight?!”