The White Lotus Sect was a band of rebels known to everyone across Changle Commandery. At one point, their insurrection had swept through the entire commandery, and the government had exerted immense effort to suppress it.
After that, the White Lotus Sect retreated from the light into the shadows, no longer operating openly. Instead, they moved quietly among local gentry clans, mountain wildernesses, and rustic villages. By breaking up the whole into scattered parts, they became one of the very few rebel forces that, despite lacking overwhelming strength, proved virtually impossible for the imperial court to eradicate, remaining an endless, nagging thorn in its side.
‘Still... that’s about all they amount to.’
Wang Ping had transmigrated here twenty years ago and had long since come to understand the ways of this world like the back of his hand. From his perspective, the Dashun Dynasty was plainly far from its end.
The imperial court still held local control.
Although public grievances simmered, they were largely confined to the countryside. Within the county seats, the prominent clans and landed gentry were actually quite satisfied with the court, harboring no real discontent.
Therefore, the court still possessed the "hearts of the people."
Under such circumstances, the White Lotus Sect had no choice but to take the grassroots route, duping the common folk in the sticks. While they might never be wiped out, it was nearly impossible for them to expand any further.
Thus, when the authorities made secret contact with him, Wang Ping—who had originally joined the sect merely to put food on the table—did not hesitate to abandon darkness and step into the light.
From then on, he became an undercover agent.
‘While living honestly as a rebel in the White Lotus Sect isn’t terrible, siding with the court offers a far wider sky.’
In the courtyard, having finished his meal, Wang Ping slowly stretched his muscles and bones. Bringing his hands together into a lotus seal, he pressed them firmly against his lower abdomen, his fingertips gradually massaging his dantian.
"Oho, not bad at all."
On the other side of the yard, the young Daoist Xie Shi pushed open a door and stepped out, nodding in approval as he looked at Wang Ping. "Junior Brother, you’ve mastered this Planting a Lotus in Fire quite well."
"Turtle and snake entwined, life firmly rooted, yet one can plant a golden lotus amid the fire."
This was the White Lotus Sect’s foundational martial art. Massaging the acupoints around the dantian with the lotus hand seal stimulated the circulation of qi and blood, which, over time, would substantially enhance one’s physical vitality.
Wang Ping patiently performed the massage for a full hour, stopping only when he was drenched in sweat and his footing felt slightly unsteady. At the same time, he could not help but marvel inwardly: ‘There really is something to this hand seal. It’s just simple massage, yet it achieves the results of a high-intensity workout. My years of bitter practice weren’t in vain.’
"That's enough for now,"
Xie Shi said with a smile from not far off. "Too much is as bad as too little; pushing further will only harm your body... Perfectly timed, too. Master plans to see you this afternoon—it’s time he imparted some martial arts to you."
"...Martial arts?"
Wang Ping blinked. Remembering the subtle wonders of Planting a Lotus in Fire, a flicker of anticipation rose in his heart. Could this godforsaken place actually be a low-magic martial world?
Soon, the two returned to the Daoist temple.
The dozen or so sect members suspected of being traitors remained under house arrest in the main hall. The old Daoist, however, had stepped outside and was loosening his limbs in the temple courtyard.
Seeing Wang Ping and Xie Shi approach, a smile appeared on the old Daoist’s face.
"You're here?"
Without the slightest hesitation, Wang Ping dropped to his knees in salute. "Greetings, Sect Master!"
Hearing this, the old Daoist narrowed his eyes in satisfaction, though he immediately waved a hand. "How many times must I say it? Do not fuss over such empty etiquette. I do not care for it."
"This subordinate understands."
Wang Ping lowered his head, making no move to stand, his tone and expression remaining as deferential as ever.
"I told you, there is no need for this." The old Daoist shook his head helplessly and said warmly, "The reason I summoned you today is to pass on our sect's supreme martial art to you.
"My Daoist title is Shouchong. From now on, you need not call me Sect Master."
Wang Ping blinked at those words.
Not call him Sect Master? What should he call him then?
"Oh, you." Seeing Wang Ping’s blank look, Xie Shi chuckled. "Step outside these doors, and Master won't fault you for calling him Sect Master.
"But once you step inside, what ought you call him?"
"..."
Wang Ping understood perfectly well: this was an attempt to win him over. But wasn't this old fossil getting a bit ahead of himself, thinking a single martial art could buy his loyalty?
To be sure, he felt some curiosity about these so-called martial arts, but so what if martial arts were formidable?
Times had changed, old man!
Talk about martial arts? You might as well talk about firearms!
In his eyes, unless the old Daoist pulled out a Maxim heavy machine gun with infinite ammo right this second, rebelling with him was a dead-end street.
"This lad truly is simple and honest."
Seeing his reaction, the old Daoist took no offense. Instead, he reached into his robe, produced a palm-sized, gleaming silver throwing dagger, and hefted it in his hand.
"The supreme martial art handed down in secret by our White Lotus Sect is called the Pure Moon Lotus Blade. It is a throwing-dagger technique. If practiced to the realm of Perfection, it grants a weapon art known as the Bloom of a Single Thought. If you can master it, you will surely command a place across Dashun’s eight circuits and twenty-four prefectures."
Wang Ping listened unimpressed.
Pure Moon Lotus Blade? The name sounded fancy enough, and what was this about weapon arts and the Bloom of a Single Thought? No matter how fast a flying dagger flew, could it outrun a bullet?
It was all nonsense...
*BOOM!!!*
The very next second, an earth-shattering roar shattered Wang Ping’s straying thoughts. The deafening blast left him rooted to the spot, entirely stunned.
Only after a moment did he snap back to reality and turn around.
There, an ornamental rockery standing several men tall had previously stood. Now, it was utterly obliterated, reduced to a heap of shattered debris and scattered rubble across the ground.
And on the screen wall behind where the rockery had been, the throwing dagger the old Daoist had held a moment earlier was embedded dead center. Dense fissures radiated outward in all directions from the blade, as though simply plucking it free would bring the entire screen wall tumbling down into ruins!
‘Holy mother of...’
The next instant, fully grasping what had just happened, Wang Ping whipped around, his eyes burning with fervor as he stared straight at the smiling Daoist Shouchong.
The old Daoist said softly, "Well? Do you want to learn?"
"Disciple pays respects to Master!"
Without a shred of hesitation, Wang Ping acted purely on instinct, throwing himself flat on the ground in a full kowtow, readily acknowledging this convenient master.
For at this moment, he knew without a shadow of a doubt:
‘Forget ancient feudalism—shattering boulders with a casual flick, turning a flying dagger into a missile! At a conservative estimate, this is at least a mid-tier martial world! How could I possibly pass up such an opportunity!’
The times had changed right back!
Besides, becoming the White Lotus Sect Master's disciple wouldn't stop him from staying an undercover agent for the court. Rounded off, this was practically getting something for nothing. How could he let such a golden chance slip away?
"Heh, finally wised up... Rise."
Shouchong patted Wang Ping's shoulder with satisfaction, retrieved a thick manual from his robe, and handed it over. "Go back and practice diligently. I have high hopes for you."
"Disciple thanks Master for his guidance!" Wang Ping kowtowed once more.
Shouchong smiled faintly and continued with a word of caution: "Once you learn it, remember never to use it recklessly. Whenever it is drawn, blood must be shed; leave no one alive.
"After all, your master's old face is recorded on the wanted lists throughout Changle Commandery, and nearby Longxing County pursues me day and night. Any exposure will bring tremendous trouble.
"Yet as you know, here in Qian Village, I never truly preached our doctrine, much less incited rebellion. I merely gave what little strength I had to heal the sick and save lives... But as more people were saved, the incense burned brighter for our temple and sect, and more people naturally gathered at my side."
At this point, the old Daoist's expression darkened abruptly:
"This is not because I possess any great capability, but because the world has come to this... It is that tyrannical, benighted ruler far away in the Eastern Capital who has reduced the realm to such a state!
"Two campaigns against the demon realm have emptied the households across eight circuits and twenty-four prefectures.
"The construction of imperial palaces and temples has torn families apart across three hundred and sixty prefectures and counties.
"Meager lands are squeezed for full taxes, exhausting the common people to fatten a single family and a single dynastic clan!"
The old Daoist grew angrier as he spoke, brimming with righteous indignation. Wang Ping, however, let it go in one ear and out the other, his emotions entirely unmoved.
After all, none of this had anything to do with him.
As the saying went, take off your shoes according to the river you cross, and wear trousers that fit your rear end. I’m just a dirt farmer—why preach the grand affairs of the realm to me?
On the surface, however, he assumed a look of steadfast devotion and said fervently, "That is why only you, Sect Master, can deliver everyone from these dire straits, granting them entry into the Void Homeland to attain eternal life... Sect Master, to me, you are the only sun in my heart!"
"...Alright, that's laying it on a bit thick."
The corner of Shouchong's eye twitched slightly. Had a newcomer to the sect uttered such praise, his immediate reaction would be that the man harbored ulterior motives.
Wang Ping, however, was different.
This lad had been in the sect for five years and had used the exact same lines the entire time... Truth be told, it had felt rather awkward at first, but lately it was sounding more and more pleasing to the ear.
"Enough, enough. Head back and practice for now.
"Finish reading the manual, prepare what is needed, and come ask me if anything is unclear,"
Shouchong said in a relaxed tone. "Investigating the traitor is not urgent for the moment. I plan to visit He Village in three days, and until then, I can guide your training."
"Thank you, Master!"
Wang Ping offered profuse thanks before taking his leave, leaving only the master and disciple, Shouchong and Xie Shi, standing in the courtyard. The atmosphere gradually shifted from warmth to chilling gravity.
After a moment of silence, Xie Shi spoke: "Congratulations, Master, on taking in a fine disciple."
"A fine disciple? Not necessarily."
Shouchong lowered his eyelids, his expression as calm as still water. "Actually, I quite liked what Wang Ping said earlier... Kill them all, and the spy dies with them.
"A pity that I cannot do so.
"If I truly killed them, hearts would scatter... He deliberately proposed that measure and offered to take his own life, perhaps anticipating that I would surely stop him."
Xie Shi blinked. "So he could still be the spy?"
"That is beside the point."
Shouchong glanced back at Xie Shi and said softly, "To accomplish an extraordinary enterprise in times like these, one must sometimes adopt extraordinary methods.
"Therefore, who the spy actually is does not matter in the slightest. What matters is the degree of damage these people could inflict upon the entire organization. The greater the potential damage, the more likely he is a traitor... Even if he isn't, he must be treated as one. Only then can we minimize the chance of error."
"...Disciple is enlightened." Xie Shi bowed with clasped hands.
"As long as you understand."
Shouchong nodded slightly and added, "Keep an eye on Wang Ping. I want to know his every move over the next few days before I decide the next step."
"Understood." Xie Shi acknowledged the order and departed.
...
Early the next morning, just as the sun peeked over the horizon, Wang Ping woke from his slumber. Full of vigor, he held the manual for the Pure Moon Lotus Blade, flipping through its pages.
"Power arises from the ground, originates in the feet, issues through the legs, is governed by the waist, and travels to the ten fingers..."
In the courtyard, Wang Ping struck a stance. Holding the manual in one hand, he pinched a tree leaf in the other, then whipped his arm forward according to the book’s instructions.
*Crack!*
In an instant, a sharp pop rang out. The leaf shot forward nearly a meter like a stone, only to soften quickly thereafter, drifting languidly to the ground.
Wang Ping’s face lit up with excitement. Although the leaf had returned to normal less than a meter from his hand, he could feel that under the technique of the Pure Moon Lotus Blade, the moment the leaf left his fingers, its sharpness had been no different from real steel. And this was only his first attempt at practicing it!
"Again!"
At this moment, Wang Ping was like a child with a brand-new, beloved toy, eagerly continuing his practice and hurling leaf after leaf without the slightest fatigue.
By the time exhaustion finally set in, the morning sun was already hanging high overhead.
Without realizing it, he had trained for an entire morning, several hours on end. Yet the physical weariness was thoroughly drowned out by the joy in his heart.
‘My talent seems fairly decent!’
Or rather, this manual for the Pure Moon Lotus Blade was exceptionally well written. Composed entirely in plain vernacular, it walked the practitioner through every step almost by hand.
Generally speaking, martial arts comprised three methods:
The method of refinement, the method of combat, and the method of breathing.
Wang Ping understood both combat and breathing. The former focused on forms, serving as the technique of striking and killing; the latter focused on the foundation, serving as the method of nourishing life and supplementing vitality.
Put simply, combat was external skill, while breathing was internal cultivation.
The method of refinement alone was different.
This "refinement" did not mean personal cultivation, but forging—true to its name, the method of refinement referred to the metallurgical craft of forging weapons.
"Combat and breathing are both secondary. In the martial arts of this world, the true core is the method of refinement: the practitioner personally forges the weapon corresponding to the art, bonding their life and spirit with it until body and mind merge as one, and then uses the weapon to nurture themselves. Rather than practicing martial arts, it’s more accurate to say one is refining a weapon..."
A practitioner’s martial progress would also be directly reflected upon their weapon.
"Weapons are divided into four grades, and arts into four tiers: Entry, Minor Accomplishment, Major Accomplishment, and Perfection... As the level of the martial art rises, the grade of the weapon rises with it.
"And if an art can be cultivated to Perfection, the corresponding weapon will awaken a weapon art. For example, that strike Daoist Shouchong used to blow apart the rockery yesterday was the weapon art of the Pure Moon Lotus Blade at Perfection, named the Bloom of a Single Thought. Its power was truly extraordinary."
What was the Bloom of a Single Thought?
True to its name, with a single thought the blade flew, and the target locked by the martial artist’s mind would burst apart like a hundred flowers in bloom. To describe it in a single phrase:
"One glance, and it explodes."
Recalling the destructive power of Shouchong’s dagger yesterday, Wang Ping felt another surge of heat in his chest. He could not resist daydreaming for a while, until his legs suddenly gave way.
"Ugh!"
The next second, Wang Ping—having held his stance the entire morning—dropped to his knees, his pores opening wide as sweat poured from every inch of his skin, barely able to catch his breath.
Immediately after, a muffled rumble sounded from his belly.
*Grumble...*
Along with the sound came an intense pang of hunger. Yet according to the manual, one must never eat ordinary food at such a moment.
"I need fine rice!"
Not coarse rice or mixed grains, but polished, extortionately expensive fine rice. Otherwise, consuming it would not only fail to aid martial training, but would actively harm the body.
And that was merely to replenish physical depletion. If one wished to accelerate progress in martial cultivation, fine rice was not enough—one also had to consume meat. Likewise, one could not eat ordinary wild game hunted from the mountains; it had to be premium meat processed through secret methods, and monster-beast meat was better still. The better the meat, the greater the cultivation benefits.
Such requirements could never be met in a rustic village.
"...Which actually works out perfectly."
Recalling the intelligence he had seen the day before, Wang Ping rallied his spirits. ‘Using this as an excuse to visit the county seat is completely reasonable. Just the right chance to meet with my handler.’
Chapter 2