A Life of Attributes Starting as a Nobleman in the Republic of China Era

"That's an old injury," Master Jueyuan said, looking at the spot he was pointing to. "You fell like that when you were a child?"

Chen Che paused for a moment, then remembered—when he was seven or eight years old, he had fallen down the ladder in his grandfather's study, hitting his back on the corner of the table, leaving a large bruise. At the time, it was just a child's bump and bruise, and no one paid any attention.

"Can an old injury from over a decade ago really block up meridians?"

"The injury has healed, but the scar remains. Scars on meridians are harder to remove than those on the skin." Master Jueyuan took out the small porcelain bottle from his pocket and poured him another Marrow Cleansing Pill. "Take this. When you practice tomorrow, when the Qi reaches that spot, use your mind to rush it. Don't force it. Use a combination of relaxation and tension, like water polishing a stone, slowly grinding it."

Chen Che did as instructed. Three days later, the energy finally surged past his shoulder blades and continued upwards, reaching the top of his head.

When he woke up from his meditation that day, he felt that his entire perspective had changed. It wasn't that he could see farther or more clearly, but rather—the world seemed to have gained an extra layer. He could feel the subtle differences in the air flowing over his skin, hear the sound of a squirrel in the yard chewing on a pine cone, and smell the incense smoke wafting over from two courtyards.

He ran to find Master Jueyuan, who was copying scriptures in his meditation room. After hearing his description, the old monk put down his pen and glanced at him.

"My Ren meridian is open," he said, his tone as casual as if he were talking about how much cabbage costs per pound today. "It's faster than I expected."

"So, does that mean you've mastered it?"

"Completed?" Master Jueyuan smiled, though the smile was fleeting. "You've only just touched the doorframe; you're still a long way from entering the door."

He stood up, walked to the window, and opened it. The November wind blew in, carrying the bitter scent of pine needles.

"However," he said, "now that your Ren meridian is open, I can start teaching you something new tomorrow."

"What?"

Master Jueyuan turned around and looked at Chen Che, a rare seriousness in his eyes.

"Solution to the mechanism lock".

Chen Che stayed at Shaolin Temple for a full twenty days.

On the morning of the twentieth day, Master Jueyuan called him to the meditation room and pushed the dark green jade pendant in front of him.

"You've mastered the first four moves. Though your internal strength is shallow, your foundation is solid. You've also memorized the solution to the mechanism lock." The old monk's voice remained calm as always. "It's time to go back."

Chen Che was taken aback: "But—"

"No buts." Master Jueyuan waved his hand. "The Yi Jin Jing is not a skill that can be mastered by closing yourself off. What you lack is not time, but experience. Internal strength must be honed through practical experience, just as a knife must be sharpened on a whetstone. Go back to Shanghai and do what you need to do. You must practice without interruption for even a day, but there is no need to rush."

He paused, took a cloth bag from the cabinet, and handed it to Chen Che: "Here are a few handwritten annotations of cultivation techniques for you to read on the way. There are also twelve Marrow Cleansing Pills. Take one every seven days. After you finish them, you won't need to take any more—by then, your meridians should be almost fully open."

Chen Che took the cloth bag; it was heavy. He opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but felt that any words would seem too weak.

Master Jueyuan seemed to see through his thoughts and said calmly, "No need to thank me. You come to learn, I teach, we each have our own needs. You seek the Dharma, I seek—this matter must eventually be carried on by someone."

He stood up, walked to the window, and turned his back to Chen Che. Outside the window, the sky was gray and hazy, and the distant Shaoshi Mountain was hidden in the clouds.

"Your grandfather passed away on a morning just like this," he suddenly said.

Chen Che's heart skipped a beat.

"How long did he study?"

"It's also forty-nine days." Master Jueyuan's voice was very soft. "His innate talent is better than yours, and he learns faster than you. But he has too many things on his mind, and he can't let go of them, so although his internal strength is strong, it is never pure enough."

He turned around and looked at Chen Che: "What makes you better than him is—your heart is pure."

Chen Che didn't know what to say, so he just bowed deeply.

Master Jueyuan escorted him to the mountain gate. The morning mist had not yet dissipated, and the peaks of Songshan Mountain appeared and disappeared in the mist, like a light ink landscape painting. The little monk who was sweeping the floor stood by the gate and bowed to Chen Che with his palms together.

"Be careful on the road," Master Jueyuan said. "When you get to Shanghai, give my regards to Xu Mingyuan. Tell him—he has unloaded the burden of Shaolin, and so have I. The rest is up to this young man."

Chen Che nodded, picked up his suitcase, and walked out of the mountain gate. After walking a dozen steps, he couldn't help but look back.

Master Jueyuan was still standing at the mountain gate, his gray monk's robe clinging to his body in the wind, making him look exceptionally thin. His injured arm had healed and hung at his side, while he raised his other hand and waved it gently.

Let's go.

Chen Che turned around and strode down the mountain.

After descending the mountain, he found a mule cart in Dengfeng County and slowly made his way to Zhengzhou. The journey was bumpy, so he read the annotations of the exercises given to him by Master Jueyuan. The text was obscure and difficult to understand, but with over a month of prior knowledge, it no longer seemed like a foreign language.

He arrived in Zhengzhou in the evening and found an inn near the train station to stay in, asking the innkeeper to buy him a train ticket to the south for the next day.

"Going to Shanghai?" The shopkeeper flipped through his notebook. "Yes, we do, but you have to change trains in Nanjing. The Longhai Railway has been rather unsafe these days, so there are few trains heading east."

"As long as you can walk, that's fine."

The shopkeeper bought him a ticket and then looked him over again: "Are you going to Shanghai on business, sir?"

"Go home," Chen Che said.

That night, he sat cross-legged on the bed in the inn, practicing the first four forms of the Yi Jin Jing in sequence. His internal energy flowed slowly through his meridians, even more smoothly than when he was at Shaolin Temple. The heat in his dantian was no longer a flame, but a warm pool of water, unassuming yet substantial.

He opened his eyes, and the moon outside the window was high in the sky, its clear light shining in and illuminating the dark green jade pendant on the table.

The next morning, he boarded a train heading south.

The carriage was a bit emptier than when he arrived, so he found a window seat and sat down, clutching his suitcase to his chest. As the train pulled away, he gazed at the receding yellow earth outside the window, a mix of emotions swirling within him.

When he arrived, he was a scholar with no physical strength, carrying a secret he was skeptical about, and he traveled alone northward.

When he returned, he was still the same scholar, but he now carried several books of martial arts annotations, had a warm energy in his dantian, and had a set of solutions to the mechanism lock in his mind.

He didn't know if this would be enough. But at least he wasn't empty-handed anymore.

After the train passed Xuzhou, the scenery outside the window gradually changed from yellow earth to green. After passing Bengbu, paddy fields and waterways came into view again. The carriage gradually became lively; some people were playing cards, some were chatting and eating sunflower seeds, and a vendor was pushing his cart back and forth, calling out that he was selling braised eggs and dried tofu.