Carrying so much equipment, along with several firearms and ammunition, Luo Jiang was afraid of running into Japanese soldiers and dared not take the main road. Instead, he slipped onto a side path leading to a fork, quickly vanishing into the woods.
Shortly after his departure, a dozen young and able-bodied villagers rushed over. Discovering that the puppet soldiers and Japanese troops at the checkpoint were all dead, they were ecstatic and immediately set about scavenging the battlefield, stripping it bare in no time.
"Commander, these puppet soldiers and Japanese troops had their throats slit by a sharp blade and bled to death. Who on earth could have done this?"
After carefully inspecting the bodies, a sharp-looking young man ran over to report to the middle-aged squad leader.
"Whoever did it, as long as they killed Japanese, that's all that matters. We might run into them someday. I notice a machine gun, two Arisaka rifles, a Hanyang rifle, and some ammunition are missing. I reckon there weren't many people behind this—at most two or three, otherwise they wouldn't have left these supplies behind."
"Commander, we need to pull back quickly! The Japanese are coming out of the city, and they're bringing trucks!" another robust man ran over to report.
"Sons of bitches, they must be heading out for a sweep somewhere. Fall back, quickly!" The leader quickly led his squad away into the distance.
By the time Luo Jiang returned to the Taoist temple, night had already fallen. Halfway through his journey, hunger had struck him, and he devoured five cans of beef in one sitting, followed by more than two hours of seated meditation in the woods before resuming his trek.
Upon entering the temple, he carried his load behind the main hall and pressed a stone set into the rock wall. Accompanied by a creaking, grinding sound, the flagstones on the floor shifted aside, revealing an opening half a meter wide.
Descending the steps through the opening, he took out a fire starter and first lit the smokeless oil lamps mounted around the walls. Under their illumination, the secret chamber quickly brightened.
Spanning over a hundred square meters, the chamber was lined with rows of sandalwood bookshelves holding Daoist scriptures and various other texts. These shelves occupied the majority of the room's space, preserving the collections left behind by generations of patriarchs of Tianyun Taoist Temple.
He had once entered this secret chamber with his master; the cultivation formula he practiced had been retrieved by his master from right here.
Setting down the wooden crates and weapons, he rubbed his chafed and swollen shoulders. The wound on his left arm had already been dressed with wild herbs while he was still in the woods; fortunately, it had missed the bone and would heal in a few days with rest. He dropped heavily onto a futon in the chamber.
Perhaps exhausted from the journey, or perhaps because he had killed quite a few people today, keeping his mind in a state of high tension until relief finally washed over him upon his return, he lost his balance and fell backward, sprawling onto the floor.
Instead of getting right back up, he stayed lying on the floor, intending to rest for a moment. Just as he was about to close his eyes, he caught sight of a small wooden box embedded in the bottom of the lowest tier of the bookshelves.
The bottom shelves sat more than a foot off the floor, likely raised for moisture-proofing, and Luo Jiang’s recumbent position happened to align with the small box wedged into the baseboard. Otherwise, he never would have noticed it.
His master and martial uncle had entered this room countless times without ever spotting the box, primarily because no one would think to lie flat on the floor and peer beneath the shelves. At most, they swept the tops of the bottom boards when cleaning dust from the room, never bothering to check underneath.
"What is this? Why is it hidden here?" Driven by curiosity, Luo Jiang inched closer and reached out, prying the small wooden box loose.
Measuring about two inches across and less than an inch thick, the box looked entirely ordinary, with no visible locks or clasps.
After examining the small box for a moment, he realized it was designed with a sliding lid. With a gentle push to the side, he popped it open.
Inside, he found a small pouch made of animal skin, accompanied by a pitch-black ring. Beneath the pouch lay three darkened parchment scrolls, which appeared to be of considerable age.
Unfamiliar with the small pouch, Luo Jiang felt it and sensed something inside. Without investigating its contents further, he picked up one of the parchment scrolls with utmost care and brought it close to the oil lamp to read.
He could recognize all the characters on the parchment. Upon reading through it, he realized it appeared to be a manual for a cultivation formula. He dared not practice it blindly; his master had once warned him never to dabble in haphazard cultivation formulas lest he suffer a deviation and meet a violent end.
Setting that scroll aside, he picked up the next one and began to read.
"I was once a retainer of King Hui of Yan. While traveling abroad, I rescued a severely wounded Qi Practitioner, who, before drawing his last breath, left me a Storage Bag and a ring.
This Storage Bag belonged to him. He had sustained mortal wounds while slaying a heavily injured cultivator from beyond the heavens, but in doing so, he also acquired the alien visitor's Storage Ring. He had hoped to open the ring, but his natal magical treasure had been shattered during the fight, destroying his Consciousness Sea and leaving him incapable of using Divine Sense to breach the ring's seals.
This Qi Practitioner left me a cultivation formula for the Divine Sense, instructing me to practice it and subsequently master array formations in order to break the seals on the Storage Ring. Once I obtained the contents, practicing the formulas within the ring would grant me eternal life. Regrettably, I am dull-witted and ultimately failed to cultivate Divine Sense. Before my death, I placed this box at the bottom of the bookshelf for those destined to find it."
After finishing the text on the parchment, Luo Jiang was overwhelmed with joy. His master had once spoken of Qi Practitioners—legendary sorcerers from the era before the Spring and Autumn and Warring States periods, even earlier than the Qin dynasty, often referred to by later generations as pre-Qin Qi Practitioners.
As for who King Hui of Yan was, he had no idea, but he knew this territory had belonged to the State of Yan during the Spring and Autumn and Warring States period.
He resolved to cultivate this Divine Sense formula and subsequently unlock the Storage Ring, largely because he too yearned for immortality. Young as he was, he understood well what eternal life meant.
He picked up the final parchment scroll and saw that its contents were dedicated entirely to array formations. His master had mentioned formations to him before, but he understood nothing of how to study them. Moreover, the scroll explicitly stated that one must first cultivate Divine Sense before studying formations in order to crack the ring's seals. He decided to focus first on mastering the Divine Sense formula, followed by the study of formations.
Taking up the first parchment scroll again, he memorized its incantations, sat cross-legged on the futon, and began cultivating according to the text.
Having prior experience with inner force cultivation, he found practicing the Divine Sense formula neither tedious nor boring. Knowing that cultivation success does not come overnight, he felt no sense of urgency. With two crates of canned goods he had brought back, he had no need to venture outside.
Yet he had not expected that while cultivating his inner force had taken years to produce even a trace of inner force, cultivating the Divine Sense formula required less than two days before he felt a wisp of cool breath stir within his mind. Guiding this cool breath through a complete circulatory cycle, he found his entire mind instantly sharpened and filled with an exquisite sense of clarity.
"I've actually cultivated Divine Sense?" Luo Jiang found it hard to believe. Without opening his eyes, he could perceive every object within the secret chamber. Startled, he quickly opened his eyes and looked around; what he saw matched his closed-eye perception precisely. Thrilled by this discovery, he tested it repeatedly until he was fully convinced that he had indeed mastered Divine Sense.
"Rumble..." A soft growl sounded from his stomach, reminding him that he was hungry. He picked up a can, opened it, and began to eat.
After finishing three cans, he felt thirsty and decided to head outside for a drink. Stowing away the wooden box and grabbing a Japanese rifle along with fifty rounds of ammunition, he stepped out of the secret chamber.
Activating the mechanism to seal the chamber, he stepped out into the main hall and discovered a thick blanket of snow covering the ground, roofs, and tree branches, with sporadic flakes still drifting from the sky. Only then did he realize that while he was deep in cultivation, it had begun to snow outside.
He boiled some hot water in a large pot, ladled it into a basin, and retrieved two smoked chickens. Chopping them up, he brewed a pot more than half-full of chicken soup. In the bitter cold weather, there was no fear of it spoiling, and this hearty pot of soup would sustain him for days.
When the water cooled to a warm temperature, he drank two bowls of it. Well-fed and hydrated, he didn't bother to shovel the snow—he was the only one left in the temple anyway, so who was there to clear it for? Instead, he gathered some firewood, stoked the fire-kang in his room, and went inside to sleep.
For several days, his mind had alternated between excitement and intense tension. Though he had now cultivated Divine Sense, he was merely at the beginning stages and still required physical rest. Lying down on the warm brick bed, he drifted off to sleep almost instantly.