Simultaneously traversing: traversing countless heavens

Chapter 111 The Great Mausoleum of Northern Liang

Children sometimes speak without thinking, with the directness and naivety unique to them, completely unaware of the ripples their words might cause in the ears of certain people.

Zhou Yi didn't respond to her comment about "protecting her family." Instead, he suddenly reached out and, with a force that seemed to demand his attention, roughly rubbed the little girl's head, turning her neatly combed hair into a mess. A few stray hairs playfully stuck up and clung to her forehead and cheeks.

"What are you doing!" The little thing, who was still immersed in sadness and longing and whose eyes were red, was stunned by this sudden "attack". Then she raised her little face and angrily slapped Zhou Yi's arm, like a cat that had been provoked and was about to scratch.

The two temporarily dispelled their earlier heaviness through this somewhat childish interaction and continued their journey south.

As for the little thing's vow to learn martial arts, Zhou Yi didn't really take it to heart.

He simply taught her a breathing technique to help her strengthen her body during her long journey and prevent her from catching a cold or other illnesses.

The little thing, however, treasured it like a precious gem.

In her limited understanding, Zhou Yi was such an unfathomable and powerful figure that the methods he personally taught must be extraordinary!

She took this breathing technique very seriously. Every morning and evening, whenever the carriage stopped to rest, she would find a quiet corner, sit cross-legged solemnly, and adjust her breathing according to the instructions, imagining wisps of "true energy" flowing through her body, and herself moving towards...

She gradually moves towards the image of a chivalrous heroine and a peerless master in the martial arts world.

Until one day, the carriage passed through a somewhat dilapidated market town.

By the roadside, a down-on-his-luck wanderer, dressed in tattered clothes and weathered by time, was tending a small stall. Scattered on the stall were some tattered books, rusty ironware, and a few pieces of ore whose nature was unclear.

The little creature's curiosity was piqued.

She jumped off the carriage, squatted down in front of the stall, and picked up a thread-bound book with a blurry cover to read.

After inquiring about the price, she was even more shocked that the stall owner had only asked for one tael of silver for all these so-called "martial arts manuals" and "ancestral treasures"!

The little guy found the price unbelievably cheap and, almost without hesitation, took out a small piece of silver and bought all the old books on the stall, displaying a rather extravagant attitude.

Among them was a thin booklet of about a dozen pages, its pages yellowed, with the title "The Classic of Nourishing Qi" written crookedly on the cover.

Three characters, priced at only eighty coins.

Back in the carriage, the little creature excitedly examined its spoils.

But when she casually opened the book "The Book of Nourishing Qi" and silently tried to imitate the diagrams and formulas and practice her breathing, she felt more and more that something was wrong.

This—this path of breath circulation, this rhythm of breathing, why does it seem more and more familiar the more I look at it?

She abruptly put down the "Qi Cultivation Classic," closed her eyes, and silently began practicing the breathing method taught to her by the Book of Changes.

Then, open your eyes again and refer to the "Classic of Nourishing Qi".

They can't be said to be exactly the same.

Absolutely identical!

The little thing was stunned.

She thought that the powerful Zhou Yi (who, in her eyes, could slap a person's head into their chest with one palm) had passed on some secret, unparalleled skill to her, and she was secretly delighted and practiced diligently.

Unexpectedly, it was just this kind of "common stuff" that you could buy for eighty coins at a roadside stall, and that probably had countless copies printed?!

A surge of resentment and anger at being deceived and treated perfunctorily welled up from the little guy's heart.

Before she angrily questioned Zhou Yi with the book "The Book of Nourishing Qi," she went back to ask the down-on-his-luck street vendor.

The other person yawned and told her in a nonchalant tone, "The Classic of Cultivating Qi?"

"Oh, that's something for beginners or kids with weak constitutions to lay the foundation, at most to improve their health."

"Want to become a master with this? Heh, girl, that would require one in ten thousand theoretical geniuses, and you'd have to start training from a young age. Maybe, possibly, probably—there'd be a tiny, almost nonexistent chance of even touching the threshold of the ninth rank of martial arts."

Ninth Rank... that's the lowest level of martial artist, and it's only something that can be achieved in theory.

The little thing wants to learn martial arts, wants to become stronger, and wants to take revenge.

Is the Book of Changes just something to fool yourself with?!

She rushed up to Zhou Yi with the "Qi Cultivation Classic" in her hand, her face tense, her eyes filled with disappointment and anger, and she held the tattered booklet almost right under Zhou Yi's nose.

However, when questioned, Zhou Yi's reaction was surprisingly calm.

He glanced at the book "The Classic of Nourishing Qi," nodded, and said in his usual tone, "Yes, he's right."

He paused, then added, as if stating a simple fact: "This is all I know, so naturally I can only teach you this."

To the little one, this was the most perfunctory and ridiculous lie in the world!

How could a martial artist who can easily shatter someone's weapon and effortlessly smash someone's head into their chest only practice such cheap, low-quality martial arts?

You should know that even the poorest江湖人 (jianghu person) who was reduced to selling goods on the street doesn't practice this!

This is clearly a case of not wanting to teach her properly and just making excuses to brush her off!

Annoyance, grievance, and the disappointment of not being valued—all sorts of emotions clashed together in the little guy's chest.

She glared at Zhou Yi fiercely, then forcefully threw the thin "Qi Cultivation Classic" out of the carriage!

The pages of the book rustled through the air for a moment, then closed again, tracing an arc before landing with a "thud" precisely at the base of a mottled mud wall by the roadside, raising a small cloud of dust.

Where the book landed, a ragged little beggar with a dirty face was curled up.

He was startled by the sudden noise, his thin body shrank back, and his dirty hands instinctively clutched the half-hardened steamed bun in his arms.

He timidly raised his eyes, first glancing warily at the old book lying at his feet, then at the axle of the carriage. When he sensed that someone in the carriage was looking at him, he quickly looked away, lowered his head, and buried his face even deeper.

Only after the carriage rumbled away and disappeared into the dusty road at the edge of town did the little beggar slowly raise his head and look around.

Seeing that no one was paying attention, he stretched out his small, flat, black hand, with dirt stuck in his fingernails, and picked up the book "The Book of Nourishing Qi" with great speed. Without even looking at it, he carefully stuffed it into the innermost layer of his tattered jacket, which was so worn that the cotton wadding was showing, and hid it tightly against his thin, bony chest.

The carriage continued its rumbling journey, but the atmosphere inside was noticeably different.

The little creature crawled back to the very back of the carriage, wrapped itself up tightly in the blanket, leaving only a sliver of its dark hair showing. With its back to the outside, it silently exuded an aura of "I'm angry, leave me alone."

For the rest of the day, no matter whether Zhou Yi offered her water or dry food, she kept her lips tightly pressed together, turned her head away, and didn't say a word, expressing her protest and dissatisfaction through her actions.

When the hunger became unbearable and the rumbling in his stomach was particularly clear in the quiet night, the little thing took advantage of Zhou Yi's apparent closed-eye sleep to sneak out from under the blanket, tiptoe to the corner where the dry food was stored, grab some cold, hard biscuits or jerky, and nibble on them quickly in small bites, like a little mouse stealing food, while nervously glancing in Zhou Yi's direction as he ate.

And so, in a subtle atmosphere dominated by silence and occasional childish confrontations, the two continued their journey south.

Along the way, there were quite a few short-sighted江湖人士 (jianghu figures) and self-proclaimed romantic playboys.

Although Nangong Pushe was young, his stunning beauty was already undeniable, like a pearl in the dark night, attracting countless greedy or lewd gazes.

However, these troubles often end before they even truly begin.

Whether it's a vicious robber, a spoiled brat with a retinue, or a self-proclaimed "knight-errant" who thinks he's a master of martial arts, they're all like clay chickens and earthenware dogs in front of Zhou Yi.

He rarely spoke, and his actions were even more understated, sometimes a flick of the finger, sometimes a wave of the sleeve, and sometimes just a casual glance, and those who sought provocation were either killed or injured, fleeing in disarray.

The process was so fast that even the little creatures hiding in the carriage often didn't have time to see it clearly.

However, the more composed and unfathomable the I Ching appeared, the more the inexplicable frustration and unhappiness in the little one's heart grew.

She gradually realized that it was wishful thinking to expect this man, who was as silent as a stone yet incredibly powerful, to voluntarily teach her real martial arts.

After a few quick thoughts, she decided to target the "come-to-her-door"江湖人 (jianghu people) and young masters.

Whether she heard it from somewhere or learned it on her own, she somehow mastered the art of "touching corpses."

Each time Zhou Yi resolved a problem, leaving behind a corpse or an injured person, the little creature would, after confirming it was safe, suppress its churning nausea and instinctive fear, its little face pale, biting its lip, and mustering its courage to approach.

She held her breath and stretched out her slightly trembling little hand to carefully feel the chests, waists, and sleeves of the corpses that were still warm or already cold and stiff.

Of course, not everyone is foolish enough to carry precious secret manuals with them. Most of the time, they can only find some loose silver, unimportant letters, or ordinary medicine.

But the high frequency of her "business" eventually led her to discover several martial arts manuals of varying paper types from a few seemingly well-connected but unlucky individuals. Although most of them were rudimentary and might even contain errors.

Among them was a first-grade Vajra Realm expert who had just spent a fortune to acquire half a scroll of a secret manual from the black market.

The secret manual is said to originate from the *Huangting Danjing*, a text from the long-extinct but historically renowned "Nine Pecks of Rice Sect."

Fragment.

This man was full of ambition and preparing to find a secluded place to cultivate himself and hope to reach a higher level, but he happened to be tempted by a beautiful woman in this place and ran into a brick wall.

Before the secret manual could even be heated up, the person had already become a skeleton by the roadside, which was a complete waste for the little thing that gritted its teeth and looted the corpse.

Although the little girl did not formally learn martial arts in the Nangong family, the family had a profound heritage, and she was influenced by what she saw and heard. In addition, her mother intentionally or unintentionally exposed her to various miscellaneous studies. Therefore, she was not completely ignorant of basic theories such as meridians and acupoints, qi circulation, and even some obscure knowledge.

Having obtained this half-volume of the "Huangting Danjing," he surprisingly learned it without a teacher. Relying on his limited foundation and a stubborn streak, he tried to circulate his qi and began to cultivate by referring to the diagrams and annotations in the manual, stumbling along the way.

This alchemical practice is indeed extraordinary!

As soon as she tried it, she felt that it was completely different from the "Qi Cultivation Scripture" she had practiced before.

If the speed of Qi circulation in the "Yangqi Jing" is like that of an old ox pulling a broken cart, slow and sluggish, then the true Qi guided by this fragment of the "Huangting Danjing" is like a rushing stream, much smoother and more efficient, by more than several times.

It's like one is in heaven and the other is on earth!

In addition, the little one's natural talent and comprehension are indeed outstanding; he is a martial arts prodigy, one in a million. Add to that a tiny bit of other...

The reason is that cultivating this incomplete copy of the "Huangting Danjing" was exceptionally smooth, with almost no obstacles.

As a result, her true qi cultivation began to rise at an astonishing speed, as if she were on a rocket.

After a month, his aura stabilized, and he officially stepped into the threshold of the ninth rank of martial artist.

Then, with unstoppable momentum, he advanced to the eighth rank, then the seventh rank—

Half a year passed in the sound of wheels and hooves. When the true energy in her body became more and more refined and condensed, and circulated freely throughout her body, and she could vaguely break through five layers of standard iron armor, her cultivation level had reached the fifth rank!

According to the prevailing nine-rank system for martial artists, the number of armor penetration layers roughly corresponds to the rank.

Being able to break through the top five ranks means you have genuine fifth-grade strength.

In the current martial arts world, the young Nangong Pushe is already considered a formidable and highly skilled fighter.

If this achievement were to be publicized, it would be enough to make many so-called "talents" who have worked hard for more than ten years feel ashamed.

However, the higher one climbs in the path of cultivation, the more difficult it becomes.

Reaching the fifth rank requires far more accumulation, insight, and even opportunities than before.

The little thing's cultivation breakthrough speed naturally slowed down, entering a stage of gradual accumulation.

The territory of Northern Mang is neither particularly large nor small.

After more than half a year of trekking, the two of them and their vehicle had long since left the core area of ​​Northern Mang and arrived at the southern border.

In early winter, the chill in the northern cold is already biting, like countless fine ice needles, relentlessly invading this vast and desolate land.

On the desolate plain, withered grass stretched to the horizon, a lifeless expanse of withered yellow, trembling in the biting north wind, emitting a mournful sound.

The distant mountains, dark as ink, appeared particularly rigid and austere against the haze, like ancient, unchanging, iron-blue giants silently overlooking this bitterly cold land.

The sky was a somber, leaden gray, with low-hanging, heavy clouds that seemed almost within reach, filtering out even the last remaining sunlight and making it dim and gloomy.

The dust on the official road had long been frozen solid. As the carriages passed by, they left clear and cold wheel tracks, crushing some ice shards and making a slight cracking sound.

The air was dry and cold; when inhaled, it carried a unique chill, a mixture of rust and barren earth, penetrating to the very marrow.

Fine snowflakes began to fall at some unknown time. At first, there were only a few scattered snowflakes, but soon they became a thick, swirling blanket, adding to the desolation and loneliness of the wilderness.

Zhou Yi remained half-reclined on the carriage shaft, leaning against the cold carriage wall, his posture relaxed.

The biting wind whipped up fine snowflakes, lashing everything around it like gravel. Withered grass lay low, and the world was filled with a desolate, mournful atmosphere.

He was still dressed in thin black clothes, the hem of his clothes fluttering slightly in the wind, but he showed no sign of shrinking back, as if the wind and snow that could freeze metal and stone were nothing more than an insignificant background to him.

The little thing beside him, now known as Nangong Pu She, is a completely different person.

She carefully prepared a "hero" outfit for herself that was both neat and stylish.

The well-tailored white outfit clung to her beautiful figure, with simple cloud patterns embroidered in silver thread that occasionally shimmered in the snow. A wide black belt cinched her waist, outlining her supple waistline.

Hanging on the left is a simple, slender knife with a long sheath and a handle wrapped with dense dark leather rope.

She tied her long, black hair high into a neat ponytail, securing it tightly with a hairband adorned with black tassels, revealing her smooth, full forehead and increasingly defined eyebrows and eyes.

Most of the childishness on her small face had faded, and her deliberately pursed lips and calm eyes added a touch of aloofness and heroism that was beyond her years. Her exquisite beauty was breathtaking in the desolate snowy landscape.

She was a completely different person from the little girl who huddled in the corner of the carriage half a year ago, only daring to timidly tug at Zhou Yi's clothes.

The wind and snow blurred my vision, and the world seemed vast and desolate.

Two figures, one in black and one in white, one as still as an ancient rock and the other like a plum blossom blooming in the snow, sat silently side by side on the slowly but steadily moving carriage, heading towards the city of Daling, its outline blurred under the low-hanging leaden clouds deep in the snow.

Suddenly, from behind, on the official road shrouded in wind and snow, came a series of rapid and orderly hoofbeats, growing louder as they approached, shattering the silence of the snow-covered plain.

The sound was deep and powerful, clearly that of a well-trained warhorse.

Immediately afterwards, a dozen elite cavalrymen charged in from behind like arrows piercing through the snow.

These knights were all dressed in light armor, with fur robes over them for warmth. They were skilled horsemen and maintained a disciplined formation even on the slippery snow. A fierce and battle-hardened aura emanated from them.

The leader was a particularly burly man, wearing a dark cloak that obscured his face, and he led the way.

The two passed each other on the official road.

The cavalry moved with incredible speed, their hooves kicking up mud mixed with ice and snow, and were about to overtake the unassuming carriage, heading straight for the city of Daling ahead.

However, after galloping for about twenty or thirty feet, the burly knight at the head suddenly pulled on the reins, and the warhorse reared up and came to a screeching halt.

The cavalrymen behind him also reined in their horses, their movements perfectly synchronized.

The leader glanced back slightly from his horse, his gaze sweeping across the carriage through the snow, particularly noting the stark contrast on the carriage shaft.

One black and one white.

Immediately afterwards, the cavalry turned their horses around and slowly returned to the carriage!

The rhythmic clatter of horses' hooves on the frozen ground was exceptionally clear on the silent snowfield, carrying with it an invisible pressure.

The little thing's back straightened instantly. She pursed her lips and instinctively placed her left hand on the hilt of the knife at her left waist, her knuckles applying slight pressure.

The wind and snow continued, and a dozen elite riders slowly approached, stopping again a few feet in front of the carriage.

The white breath exhaled from the horse's stern mingled with the wind and snow. Beneath the dark hood of the lead knight's cloak, his gaze, sharp as lightning, fell upon the two men.

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