Chapter 3: Eight Years Is Too Long
Zhenwu Mountain (True martial mountain).
It pierced the sky like a sharp sword—steep and majestic. It was originally called Divine Sword Mountain, but after Daoist Longshan won a bet against its previous owner, he rebuilt the Zhenwu Sect here.
Over time, this mountain became known as Zhenwu Mountain.
Under the rule of the Dayan Dynasty, which controlled thirteen provinces, Zhenwu Mountain was located on the border between Qing Province and Yun Province. Daoist Longshan was carrying Ning Qi, occasionally stopping to gather food for him, so their travel was not particularly fast.
At the foot of the mountain, Daoist Longshan finally let out a breath of relief—he was back on home ground.
Along the way, he had worried about assassins. Now, he figured that whoever orchestrated the fire probably believed Ning Qi had perished and was unaware that Snow Plum Manor had left behind a single survivor.
This only strengthened his resolve: Ning Qi's identity must remain secret for now to avoid further danger.
Ning Qi looked at Zhenwu Mountain with great curiosity.
Over the past days following Daoist Longshan, he had learned a bit about the world through scattered information—getting a rough understanding of this realm he had transmigrated into.
This world resembled ancient feudal societies from his previous life. The ruling dynasty was called Dayan, but unlike Earth's ancient times, this world had powerful beings known as Martial Artists, and martial culture was highly revered.
Martial Artists—those who pursued the Martial Path—possessed strength and longevity far beyond ordinary humans.
At the lowest level, they could crack stone and tear apart wild beasts. At the highest level, they could unleash sword qi hundreds of feet long to slice rivers and block floods.
His master, Daoist Longshan, was one of the latter—a man with considerable fame throughout the world.
Ning Qi was in awe, but also secretly comforted. Although he had become an orphan right at the start, at least he had a formidable master.
At that moment, several strong and agile Daoists came to greet them. Some were young adults, others teenagers—among them, a female Daoist. Upon seeing Daoist Longshan, they excitedly bowed:
"Greetings, Master!"
Daoist Longshan nodded slightly.
These were the eight disciples he had taken earlier—each one highly talented. He had high hopes that they could one day restore the Zhenwu Sect to its former glory.
"Wentian, how has everything been in the sect lately?"
He addressed a kind-faced youth at the front—his eldest disciple, Luo Wentian.
"Master, everything proceeds as usual. All junior disciples are diligently cultivating," Luo Wentian replied respectfully.
The Zhenwu Sect had several hundred disciples in total, divided between outer and inner sect members. These eight were his core direct disciples.
Daoist Longshan smiled, pleased.
"Diligence is good, but remember to balance work and rest."
"We will remember your teachings, Master. Was everything smooth during your trip to Snow Plum Manor?"
Some of the disciples glanced curiously—not about where Daoist Longshan had gone, but at the baby in his arms. Especially the only female disciple, Ye Qinghe, and the youngest disciple, Qin Yun, who were already trying to make faces at Ning Qi to amuse him.
Ning Qi just rolled his eyes and ignored them.
After all, he wasn't actually an ignorant baby.
This only made the two even more surprised and amused.
Daoist Longshan didn't keep them in suspense. Without explaining what happened at Snow Plum Manor, he simply said:
"This child's name is Ning Qi. From today forward, he is your Ninth Junior Brother."
Everyone was stunned.
Since founding the sect, their master rarely accepted direct disciples. The seven of them had all started as outer sect members and slowly worked their way up. Only Qin Yun had been made a direct disciple from the start ten years ago—but his talent was peerless. Even Daoist Longshan considered him a once-in-a-generation prodigy with potential to reach Martial Saint level.
Now, after ten years, their master had accepted a new disciple—a baby no less.
They all knew: The Ninth Disciple held special significance for Zhenwu Sect.
Could this baby also be extraordinarily gifted?
They quickly congratulated:
"Congratulations, Master, on finding such a talented disciple!"
Daoist Longshan just smiled.
Qin Yun eagerly took Ning Qi from Ye Qinghe and began poking at his chubby cheeks, grinning like a child himself. He had always been the youngest—now, finally, someone younger had come.
With joyful excitement, Qin Yun declared:
"After ten years, Master has taken a new disciple. The Zhenwu Nine Disciples are finally complete!"
"Give our little junior eighteen years, and we nine shall shake the entire Dayan Dynasty and restore Zhenwu Sect's glory!"
Everyone burst into laughter.
Their eyes shone with hope.
Daoist Longshan smiled as well.
Zhenwu Nine Disciples—this concept came from the ancient Zhenwu inheritance, tied closely to its core teachings.
Legend had it: If all nine disciples were peerless talents, together they could rival a Martial Saint.
Thus, even if past generations of the sect lacked a Martial Saint, they never feared one.
That was the sect's golden age.
Something unknown had caused its decline, eventually erasing it from history.
Daoist Longshan had never accepted a ninth disciple—until fate brought Ning Qi into his hands. It felt like destiny.
"The Zhenwu Nine, huh?"
Listening to their hearty laughter, Ning Qi couldn't help but smile.
His new senior brothers and sisters seemed genuinely kind.
He began to look forward to life in Zhenwu Mountain.
---
A Few Months Later
Ning Qi's senior siblings were, indeed, wonderful.
Perhaps because he was the youngest, and the long-awaited Ninth Disciple, they doted on him endlessly. Third Senior Sister Ye Qinghe and Eighth Senior Brother Qin Yun visited him constantly to play.
Ning Qi gradually opened up to them.
Before long, half a year had passed.
He was fully integrated into Zhenwu Sect.
---
During that half-year…
Ning Qi displayed extraordinary signs.
Possibly due to dense innate qi in his body, his growth was much faster than a typical infant.
With maxed-out comprehension, he learned everything with astonishing speed.
Reading and writing were mere trifles.
At only six months old, he could walk steadily on his own and speak clearly. This shocked everyone, who now hailed him as a child prodigy—and began to anticipate what kind of Martial Path achievements he'd reach once his foundation was set.
But what he revealed was just the tip of the iceberg.
In truth, he was far more astonishing than they imagined.
Because his body wasn't yet fully developed and he couldn't train in martial arts, once he learned the written language, Ning Qi dove deep into the sect's miscellaneous knowledge.
Astronomy, Feng Shui, divination, medicine…
Whatever he could study, he devoured.
To him, it was building a foundation for future martial training.
With his comprehension, he didn't need to worry about being overwhelmed. His self-study alone brought him to remarkable heights.
The elders thought he was just playing out of curiosity—they had no idea what level he'd reached.
Take medicine, for example:
Ning Qi could already be called a Divine Physician.
Based on various medical texts, he created his own lineage: Ning's Medical Manual, including techniques like Suspended Needle Method, Golden Acupuncture Flow, and Thirteen Ghost Gate Needles—masterpieces in their own right.
Though he couldn't yet practice some techniques due to lack of martial energy, once he could, his abilities would soar even further.
He had many ideas. Once his strength caught up, he could bring them to life in one fell swoop.
---
Recently, Ning Qi had been thinking:
How can I accelerate the development of my meridians and bones so I can start training in martial arts sooner?
According to his senior brothers, most people's physique matured around age eight, with only a few gifted individuals able to begin earlier.
But eight years?
That's too long.
(End chapter)