All-People Game: As a Sword Cultivator, All I Can Do is Fly with a Sword

In the afternoon, the setting sun cast its rays on the glazed tiles of Qingsong Temple, which then reflected onto the thick snow in the courtyard, creating a warm, golden glow.

But this warmth couldn't melt the snow; instead, it made the air feel even crisper.

The hustle and bustle of the front yard had subsided, and most tourists had gone down the mountain for lunch, leaving only a few photography enthusiasts capturing the tranquility of the Taoist temple after the snow.

The atmosphere in the training ground in the backyard was completely different.

"Sink your Qi to the Dantian, focus your mind on the Xuan Guan (a point on the back of the head), and feel the Qi flowing through your limbs and bones."

Chen An, dressed in a thin Taoist robe, stood with his hands behind his back, his voice steady as he gave instructions, word by word.

Opposite him, the carbonate fish was in an awkward horse stance, making strange "heh heh" sounds from time to time.

He suddenly shouted.

"Senior brother, I feel a warm current, it's... no! Senior brother, I can't hold it in anymore."

Chen An's temple throbbed, and he forcibly suppressed the urge to kick this blockhead down the mountain, patiently correcting him: "Strength is not the urge to urinate! Focus on feeling the flow of your qi and blood!"

"Oh, okay, senior brother, I'll try again!" The carbonated fish closed its eyes again, its face turning red from holding its breath.

Li Jin stood under the eaves not far away, arms crossed, quietly watching this scene.

Previously, he never watched the Taoist priests in the temple practice their skills.

Just as Xuan Chengzi said, he was born with thin meridians and poor blood circulation, which made him unable to develop strength.

Since you can't practice it, watching it is pointless and will only cause you more trouble.

But now it's different.

Perhaps he can deduce a cultivation method suitable for himself from the cultivation methods of internal energy?

Ultimately, despite the variations, the underlying principles remain the same; there may be commonalities in how energy is utilized.

Li Jin focused her mind and once again entered that strange perspective.

When~

The familiar sound of bells echoed in my mind.

The world before my eyes has changed.

Within Chen An's body, a pale red current was slowly flowing, following a specific meridian route, circulating endlessly.

That's what's called power.

The body of the carbonate fish is completely empty, with only a few barely perceptible wisps of white air flowing around like headless flies.

Li Jin's gaze was fixed on Chen An, hoping that golden light would burst out from his body, just like when she had observed the Golden Snake Palm before.

However, he was disappointed.

Apart from the flowing trajectory of that force, there was nothing else.

What's worse, maintaining this state is extremely mentally taxing.

Within ten seconds, he felt a wave of lethargy wash over him, as if he had been up all night for several nights in a row.

"It seems this road is blocked."

Li Jin decisively exited that state and rubbed her throbbing temples.

I still need to be honest and find the real cultivation method.

Since she couldn't find a clue for the time being, Li Jin decided to wander around the temple to see if any other players had arrived.

Knowing yourself and the enemy is the only way to survive a hundred battles.

It's never a bad thing to understand players' movements.

He strolled through the corridor and arrived at the main hall.

The main hall was empty except for Xuan Chengzi, who sat cross-legged on a prayer mat, facing the donation box, and closed his eyes to rest.

The posture was so devout that it seemed as if the donation box was the true deity of this Taoist temple.

Li Jin's gaze passed over Xuan Chengzi and landed on the tall statue of the ancestral master.

[Item: Statue of Lin Jinghong]

[Introduction: Five hundred years ago, the pillar of martial arts in the North was renowned throughout the world for his "Green Pine Sword Technique." In his later years, his swordsmanship reached a profound level, attaining a state of divine mastery.]

The description included the name "Lin Jinghong" and the impressive-sounding phrase "Martial Arts Master".

But there is nothing else.

A so-called martial god from five hundred years ago obviously has nothing to do with the cultivation techniques he needs.

Li Jin shook his head, turned and left the main hall, heading towards the back mountain.

Behind Qingsong Temple, besides the Taoist priests' residences, there is a pavilion open to the public called the Sutra Repository.

The name sounds impressive, but what's actually stored inside isn't any martial arts manual, but rather scriptures, local chronicles, and some ancient books passed down through generations of Qingsong Temple.

The truly precious books had long been locked away in a safe in Xuan Chengzi's room.

Therefore, the Sutra Repository has become a tourist attraction, specifically used to showcase the profound cultural heritage of Qingsong Temple to visitors.

When Li Jin walked in, there was a small tour group inside, and a tour guide wearing a red hat was giving a passionate explanation through a megaphone.

"Dear visitors, we are now in the library of Qingsong Temple."

"This place houses handwritten scriptures and martial arts insights from the successive abbots of Qingsong Temple since its founding."

The tour guide pointed to rows of bookshelves, his tone filled with pride.

"Look at this glass case, everyone. What's displayed here is one of the treasures of Qingsong Temple."

"According to research, it is a handwritten copy of a Daoist scripture from a previous dynasty, brought back by the fourth abbot of Qingsong Temple during his travels more than four hundred years ago. Although the content is incomplete, its calligraphic and historical value is immeasurable!"

Tourists flocked around and took photos of the yellowed ancient book through the glass.

Li Jin also walked over.

His gaze did not fall on the so-called treasure of the museum, but was drawn to an inconspicuous booklet in the corner of the bookshelf.

If he didn't have such good eyesight, he wouldn't have noticed at all.

The tour guide continued his enthusiastic explanation: "Qingsong Temple has a long history and profound cultural heritage. Over the centuries, countless literati, scholars, and martial arts masters have left their mark here..."

Li Jin stared intently at the tattered booklet.

In his field of vision, a few lines of clear text emerged.

[Item: Qingsong Daoren's Notes (Volume 1)]

[Introduction: A notebook recording miscellaneous observations and insights, written by a Taoist named Qingsong, which has remained intact for over a thousand years.]

A thousand years ago?

Qingsong Daoren?

Li Jin reached out, wanting to touch the notebook.

When~

The grand bells rang out once again.

This time, it wasn't Li Jin who initiated it, but rather it was triggered by this notebook.

The whole world lost its color and turned into a slow-down black and white silent film.

The notebook that lay quietly on the bookshelf now radiated a soft and bright golden light.

A golden dot of light slowly emerged from the pages of the book, hovering in mid-air like a quiet star.

Without hesitation, Li Jin extended her consciousness and gently touched the point of light.

A thunderclap exploded in my mind.

The scene before my eyes disintegrated into countless fragments of light and shadow, which then rapidly reassembled.

It was as if I was no longer in that small library; the noise of the surrounding tourists and the guides' explanations all disappeared.

What replaced it was a completely different world.

He found himself floating in mid-air, with a vast and ancient mountain range beneath his feet.

The mountain's shape was seven or eight parts similar to the familiar Qingsong Mountain, but it was more primitive and more precipitous. There were no stone steps or cable cars, only towering ancient trees and swirling clouds and mist.

Directly below him, on a flat area atop a mountain, stood several simple thatched huts.

A young Taoist priest dressed in a gray linen robe was sitting cross-legged on a huge blue stone, breathing deeply with his eyes closed.

Shock appeared in Li Jin's eyes.

He recognized the stone!

It was the sword-testing stone in the front yard that was inscribed with "Wang Ergou was here".

At this moment, it has not yet experienced a thousand years of wind and frost, and its entire body is smooth and lustrous, just like a beautiful jade.

An incredible conclusion formed in Li Jin's mind.

This is Qingsong Temple.

No, to be precise.

This is the Qingsong Temple, which dates back a thousand years!