The God of the Human Realm!

Chapter 17 Dragon and Tiger
"Teacher, come look here."

Hong Yuan pointed to the page with his finger on the 'Blood Pact'.

Yang Erhu had already peeked over, his gaze casually sweeping over the book. He exclaimed in surprise, squinting as he read it carefully. After a few breaths, he suddenly realized, "This is a strange art of talismans! So Master Qin's talisman-making technique comes from this book. If this book is passed down in his family, then Master Qin's ancestors must have been extraordinary."

Yang Erhu's voice was filled with surprise, but then he remembered Master Qin's lifeless and dying appearance and couldn't help but sigh.

After a brief silence, Yang Erhu put away his sentimentality and said, "Let's flip to the next few pages and see what's on them."

Hong Yuan nodded and turned to another page. The words "entering the dream" came into view, but apart from the first two sentences explaining "entering the dream" which were relatively clear, a large part of the rest was covered up.

At the end of the page was a line of hastily written annotation: "The method of entering dreams is harmful to the spirit and life, and brings great calamity to both oneself and others... Keeping it is of no use, it is better to destroy it."

Damn it! Hong Yuan cursed inwardly.

He had absolutely no interest in the 'Blood Pact,' but he was very interested in the 'Dream Entry Technique'! How could he just destroy it like that? What kind of behavior is this? To recklessly destroy material cultural heritage is an act that deserves an apology to the entire world.

Upon seeing this, Yang Erhu's face showed a hint of regret, "What a pity!"

Hong Yuan turned to the next page, which was a spell called 'Stone Skin Curse'. Yang Erhu glanced at it and shook his head, scoffing, "I encountered some unorthodox sects using this 'Stone Skin Curse' when I was young and wandering the martial world. Calling it 'useless' would be an understatement."

"How so?" Hong Yuan asked.

"This technique is mostly practiced by the lowest of the low, or by some eccentric religious sects, and is used to fool those foolish men and women."

"I have seen a sorcerer who used this technique to swindle women out of their money by claiming that he was possessed by a god and was invulnerable to swords and spears."

"In reality, there's no such thing as being invulnerable to swords and spears."

Yang Erhu gave a mocking smile: "After mastering this technique, the skin will look like stone, and it can indeed withstand three or five slashes. If that were all, it would be a practical technique. But the problem is that practicing this technique will make the body increasingly stiff, until it becomes difficult to move. If three or five slashes won't work, can't I at least slash a few more times? Anyway, he can't dodge them!"

"And once this spell was broken, the sorcerer's internal organs ruptured immediately, and he died in excruciating pain. It's truly laughable!"

Yang Erhu seemed to recall some comical past event, stroking his beard and chuckling lightly, looking quite disdainful.

With a sneer, Yang Erhu asked, "Is there more?"

“There’s one more page.” Hong Yuan immediately turned to the last page, and the three words ‘Grasshopper’ came into view.

"Huh? That's light-footed skill!" Yang Erhu exclaimed in surprise.

"Is this 'flying over the grass' a kind of light-body skill?" Hong Yuan turned to look at him.

"No! I'm not entirely sure. Lightness skill is lightness skill, and technique is technique!"

Yang Erhu shook his head again and said, "So-called lightness skill is just a kind of leaping skill, which is no different from fist and foot. It requires long-term training. Over time, some people can become as agile as a monkey and as light as a swallow, climbing walls and entering houses, and flying over eaves and running on walls!"

"Some experts can even leap up from the ground and jump more than ten feet high."

"And such things can also be done by certain techniques, such as the technique of 'flying over grass,' which was passed down by the people as a kind of light-body skill."

Yang Erhu said, "But what lightness skill can do, technique can also do; what technique can do, lightness skill may not be able to do. The reason technique is technique is because it transcends the ordinary."

“What people cannot do is called skill! But skill is not the way; skill is theft…” Hong Yuan interjected.

"How did you know?" Seeing Yang Erhu's surprised look, Hong Yuan chuckled and pointed to the annotation left at the end of the page.

His handwriting was still extremely messy, and he did not leave his name.

Yang Erhu was somewhat speechless. The master and apprentice both focused their attention on the "flying on grass" technique and read it carefully.

"That which flies over the grass is a strange snake!"

"To practice this technique, one should take a female snake that is less than three days old, worship the snake as one's mother, and serve the snake as one's mother."

……

"Hmm?" Hong Yuan felt that this was another crooked and evil practice when he read this, and immediately lost interest. On the contrary, Yang Erhu's expression was solemn and his eyes were fixed on it.

Hong Yuan patiently continued reading.

"Serve the Snake Mother for seven days, and wait quietly for the thunder. When the thunder roars, feed the Snake Mother seven drops of blood from your fingertip while reciting the 'Heart-to-Heart Mantra'. Continue this for forty-nine days without interruption, or all your efforts will be wasted."

Next to this text, there was a densely packed string of tiny characters, as small as mosquitoes, which was the 'Heart-to-Heart Mantra'.

“Gather wild strawberries, clematis root, and rootless vine... to make a medicinal bath. Soak in it daily for thirty days to achieve the desired effect.”

……

Hong Yuan read to the end about the precautions after mastering this technique: first, one must feed the snake with blood from the fingertip and recite the Heart-to-Heart Mantra every year; second, the snake mother must not die, otherwise the technique will be ruined.

Once the "grass-flying" technique is mastered, the movements become ghostly and elusive, as cunning as a snake. One can even step on tender grass, fly close to the ground, and land several times in a row.

However, Hong Yuan still felt that worshipping a snake as a mother was too bizarre, and couldn't help but complain, "What kind of nonsense is this?"

Yang Erhu spoke almost simultaneously, "This is a treasure!"

Is there something wrong with me or something wrong with you?
Hong Yuan looked at him with a puzzled expression.

Yang Erhu's expression was very serious, his gaze still fixed on the pages of the book. He said, "Most of the world's spells have various kinds of backlash. For example, the Stone Skin Curse, once you start practicing it, is not much different from stepping into the gates of hell. But there are a very few spells with low backlash, which the user can completely accept. These are naturally the best spells."

"This 'Flying on Grass' technique is not difficult to master. Even if the Snake Mother dies, it will not harm the practitioner. It will only break the spell. Of course, it is a precious technique."

Yang Erhu's expression was resolute, with a hint of excitement in his eyes.

"Teacher, you don't intend to practice this technique, do you?"

Upon hearing this, Yang Erhu fell into a deep thought for a moment before slowly saying, "The creature that flies over the grass is a snake, and a snake is a small dragon. It can be perfectly matched with my school's Subduing Tiger Force to form the 'Small Dragon Tiger Stance.' Moreover, this combination of technique and martial arts is even more difficult to defend against. This... truly makes it hard to choose!"

As dusk approached, the clamor and shouts at the Yang Family Martial Arts School subsided, and the apprentices and nominal disciples stopped practicing, all drenched in sweat.

The martial arts school has a bathhouse, but since people have just finished strenuous physical training, it is not advisable to take a bath immediately, so they all just wipe their bodies down.

Afterwards, the apprentices and nominal disciples were divided into two teams, each going to collect medicine for their injuries, and then they had a meal.

After all, the tuition fees are different, and the treatment is vastly different as well. Overnight stays are also available at the martial arts school, but only three of the fifteen disciples stayed today; the rest left after having their meal.

After nodding goodbye to a familiar disciple, Meng Yue walked alone into the long bluestone street.

The bruises on his face hadn't faded, and the cool breeze blowing on his face caused a slight throbbing pain. He reached out and touched it, and perhaps because he touched the wound, he couldn't help but grimace.

"Heh!" Meng Yue suddenly let out a cold laugh without warning, his head lowered, and his eyes became extremely sinister and deep.

He quickened his pace, turned two streets, entered a dimly lit alley, and knocked on the door of a house.

After a few knocks, a man in his thirties or forties, with a plump appearance and wearing a scholar's long robe, opened the door.

“Mr. Cui!” Meng Yue bowed respectfully.

The scholar-like Mr. Cui ignored him, only glancing at his face before turning and walking inside, saying indifferently, "Go inside and close the door!"

Upon entering the inner room, they found a spacious hall already lit up. Mr. Cui sat languidly, blowing on his hot tea and taking a leisurely sip. He watched Meng Yue enter but did not allow him to sit down.

Meng Yue stood with his head bowed, showing no sign of resentment.

After a moment, Mr. Cui squinted slightly, savoring the tea that rolled down his throat, and asked, "What happened to your face? Who hit you?"

Upon hearing this, Meng Yue recalled the beating he received that morning and gritted his teeth, saying, "I was injured by a newcomer from the Yang Family Martial Arts School."

"A newcomer? A newcomer can injure you? Meng Yue, you're really something!"

After being mocked by Mr. Cui, Meng Yue became even more resentful, but not at Mr. Cui, but at Hong Yuan.

"What can I say to you, Meng Yue! Young Master Shenxiao sent you here and arranged for you to join the Yang Family Martial Arts School. He had high hopes for you, but what have you done? It's been two years, and you haven't made any progress at all."

Mr. Cui was all smiles and seemed very peaceful when he first spoke, but by the end, his voice had turned extremely cold, and the chilling aura emanating from it made Meng Yue's body stiffen.

“It’s not that there’s no progress. I’m almost there. No one in the martial arts school can beat me. Yang Erhu already has a different opinion of me. At most a few months, no! At most one or two months, I can truly become his disciple. But who knew that Yang would go out and bring back a kid named Hong Yuan.”

Meng Yue quickly explained.

"Hong Yuan? The one who injured you?" Mr. Cui tapped the tea lid with his fingers, producing a clear, crisp sound.

“That’s right!” Meng Yue nodded, and said resentfully, “I stayed at the Yang Family Martial Arts School for two years and always treated that Yang with the utmost respect and deliberately flattered him. I never expected that he would just randomly pick a kid and take him as his disciple.”

"You mean Yang Erhu took Hong Yuan as his disciple?"

"Yes!"

"How old is Hong Yuan?"

"He looks to be at most twenty years old." Meng Yue dared not lie.

Mr. Cui chuckled lightly, but his eyes were cold and devoid of any smile. He said indifferently, "You're not even twenty years old yet, and you've already managed to injure you. Your talent is truly top-notch. It seems that Yang Erhu wasn't unprepared. Perhaps this Hong Yuan is the disciple he chose long ago, but has been keeping him out there all along."

Meng Yue said in a deep voice, "In terms of skill alone, I am not confident of defeating that man surnamed Hong, but if it were a life-or-death struggle, I would be 70% confident of winning."

"Seven points?" Mr. Cui's lips curled into a sneer: "If you're not completely confident, what's the difference between five points, seven points, and one point?"

Meng Yue remained silent, not daring to refute.

Mr. Cui blew on the steam, took another sip of tea, and suddenly a murderous glint appeared on his face: "That Hong Yuan must die, kill him."

Meng Yue was taken aback. He looked at Mr. Cui across from him, whose once prosperous face was now filled with a chilling expression amidst the rising steam of the tea.

“If you don’t kill this kid, how will you become Yang Erhu’s apprentice? Only by killing him will you have a chance! Besides, Yang Erhu has lost his beloved disciple whom he has painstakingly nurtured, so he will probably be very disheartened. At this time, you should show him concern and take advantage of his weakness. If you still can’t get things done, then don’t come back.”

Mr. Cui said indifferently.

"Alright, I'll go kill him." Meng Yue gritted his teeth.

Whoops!

Mr. Cui slammed the teacup in his hand down on Meng Yue’s head. Meng Yue noticed it, but managed to steady himself and didn’t dare to dodge.

With a 'crack', the teacup shattered on Meng Yue's head, splashing scalding tea all over his face, causing his skin to twitch uncontrollably.

"Idiot!" Mr. Cui, no longer bothering to maintain his composure, shouted, "What an idiot! No wonder you haven't been able to get anything done in two years. Are you confident you can do it yourself? Take my token and go find Yan Laosan, and have him send someone to do it."

Meng Yue knew that the "Yan Laosan" mentioned by Mr. Cui was named Yan Tieshan, a gang leader who occupied the docks of Yangquan County. He had hundreds of elite thugs under his command and was a local tyrant. Neither the county government nor several wealthy families would easily provoke him.

In fact, there were times when he couldn't do things on his own, he would ask Yan Tieshan to do them for him, which made Yan Tieshan's power more and more solid.

"Even a tiger will fight a rabbit with all its might! Get Yan Laosan to send more men; we must kill that kid surnamed Hong. I don't want to hear any surprises."

Mr. Cui fiddled with the jade thumb ring on his right thumb and said calmly, "Once Hong Yuan dies, you should put on a good show in front of Yang Erhu. The Qionghua Gathering is coming soon, and Yang Erhu doesn't have much time left. He doesn't have many choices. You have a high chance of becoming his disciple and obtaining the 'Tiger Roar Breathing Technique'!"

Mr. Cui stood up and paced back and forth, saying, “In the past, the Dragon and Tiger Ancestors opened up two lineages. Our lineage is the ‘Dragon’, while Yang Erhu inherited the ‘Tiger’ lineage from Master Li. Only when the methods of the two lineages are combined can we ‘become the Dragon and Tiger’. Under the leadership of Young Master Shenxiao, we can truly achieve great things.”

Mr. Cui looked at Meng Yue with burning eyes: "If you obtain the 'Tiger Roar Breathing Technique,' you will be a great contributor to our sect, and you will be rewarded handsomely."

"I will certainly not fail Young Master Shenxiao and Mr. Cui's high expectations." Meng Yue trembled slightly and hurriedly expressed his loyalty.

"Alright, go and get on with your business." Mr. Cui tossed something out of his sleeve, turned his back, and his tone became indifferent.

As Meng Yue emerged from the alley, he felt cold sweat seeping from his palms. He opened his hand, revealing an ordinary little wooden plaque inside.

Clutching the wooden plaque tightly, Meng Yue first went back to his home, changed into an inconspicuous black-gray cloth outfit, put on a straw hat, and pulled the brim down before hurrying towards the Yangquan County dock.

Even though night had fallen, many lights were still on throughout the county town, and noisy sounds came from various taverns and teahouses. When Meng Yue passed by a tavern, he even heard arguing and fighting coming from inside.

For eight hundred years, the policies of the Great Yin Dynasty have changed and been updated frequently. In some years, curfews were imposed, and in others they were lifted. In the last hundred years, the central government of the Great Yin Dynasty lost its control over the prefectures and counties, and could no longer manage how the local governments acted.

Meng Yue ignored these matters and hurried along the shadowy side of the street.

(End of this chapter)