"Any disciples passing by? It's me—your dashing, suave, mighty, and beloved Little Uncle-Master! Won't someone please save me?"
The six of them truly left him pinned under the rubble, with zero intention of digging him out.
"You forced my hand!" After hollering for ages, a few disciples glanced over from afar, chuckled softly, and strolled on. The sect leader's orders were clear: no one was to help. Let him free himself.
"Blend Light with Dust!" This time, Li Haimo skipped the hand seals altogether. Poof—he vanished from beneath the debris.
From a distance, Xiaoyaozi and the others watched in surprise. While Blend Light with Dust allowed one to vanish from their spot, it required freedom of movement—no bindings. This felt more like the Yin-Yang school's Soul Wander Dragon.
"Holy crap, where am I?" Li Haimo gawked at the stark, bare stone walls around him, illuminated by flickering torches.
It was a cave, and from deeper within came... whale-like calls?
"Holy crap, how'd I end up here?" Cold sweat beaded on his forehead. In all of Taiyi Mountain, only one place echoed with such cries: the forbidden grounds, Beimingzi's secluded retreat.
"Come in, since you've arrived," an aged voice rumbled from inside.
Li Haimo had no choice but to follow the sound, a chill prickling his skin as he ventured deeper.
There, on a simple stone bed, sat an elderly figure in meditation. Before him knelt a girl in a flowing green Daoist robe, a peculiar sword—Qiu Li—laid across her lap.
As he entered, both turned their gazes on him. Beimingzi was stunned into silence; if he spoke, it'd surely be something like, I've lived nearly a century, yet never encountered such brazen shamelessness. The girl, Xiaomeng, eyed him with open curiosity, scanning him up and down. Her gaze drifted to the modest swell at her own chest, then to his groin, her mind clearly whirring with thoughts.
Li Haimo squirmed under their stares, glancing down—and nearly cursed aloud. Damn it all! His robes were shredded to rags, leaving his lower half exposed, cool breeze and all, flapping freely in the wind.
"Do the young ones these days play it this bold?" Beimingzi tossed him a spare Daoist robe to cover up.
"Can I just say it wasn't on purpose?" Li Haimo flushed crimson as he donned it. But Xiaomeng's eyes lingered curiously on his chest and below.
"Xiaomeng, this is your Senior Brother Wuchenzi—the Daoist school's one and only current practitioner of the Dao Canon," Beimingzi introduced.
"Greetings, Senior Brother Wuchenzi," Xiaomeng offered a polite bow, though her gaze remained fixed on him with that same intrigued stare.
"Ahem, good to see you, Junior Sister Xiaomeng. Back when I brought you here, you were just a tiny thing—now look at you, all grown into such a beauty," Li Haimo coughed lightly, trying to ease the awkwardness.
"Great or small, long or short—in this fleeting world, all are but passing travelers," Xiaomeng replied in her signature cool, detached tone.
Li Haimo blinked. Not for nothing is she the iciest beauty in Qin Shi Mingyue—dropping profound one-liners left and right, leaving you speechless.
"Greetings, Uncle-Master Beimingzi!" Li Haimo decided to ignore her; otherwise, the embarrassment would only deepen. Flashing everything in front of a girl was mortifying, even if Xiaomeng saw no difference between man and woman.
"You still can't control your power, can you?" Beimingzi frowned.
"Yeah, I have no clue where it comes from or where it goes—so controlling it? Impossible," Li Haimo admitted with a sigh of frustration. He'd quizzed Xiaoyaozi and the others; they channeled their inner energy to guide techniques. But him? He couldn't sense his own power at all, let alone direct it.
"I see. Your condition reminds me of a certain realm, though you couldn't possibly have reached it. It's the pinnacle we all chase our whole lives," Beimingzi mused, something dawning on him.
"What realm?" Li Haimo pressed eagerly.
"Word Manifests as Law!" Beimingzi declared.
Li Haimo fell quiet. Yeah, no way I could touch that. It was beyond Heaven-Human Unity—the level where every utterance and action bent the laws of reality to follow. Forget martial arts; that was straight-up immortal cultivation, god-tier stuff.
"But I have another theory," Beimingzi added.
"What theory?" Li Haimo's eyes lit up as he leaned in.
"The Confucian Sitting and Forgetting Method: retract the form, conceal the intellect, abandon shape and knowledge, blend into the masses unnoticed. Yield to the weak, defend like soft cotton—rendering even the mightiest strikes futile, with no purchase. This is Confucianism's benevolence, Daoism's non-action," Beimingzi explained.
Li Haimo was floored. He knew of Sitting and Forgetting—it was the signature of Confucianism's second-in-command, Yan Lu, the Master of Draws, undefeated and unvictorious. Rumor had it his master was none other than the previous Sword Saint, second only to Xunzi.
"But what does that have to do with me?" Li Haimo asked.
"Confucius himself penned the Ten Wings for the Book of Changes, spreading it across the land. Thus, Confucian texts are deeply influenced by it, revering the Dao Canon as the foremost of all classics. So the Sitting and Forgetting Method bears its traces too. You devoured the Dao scripture whole—knowing the 'what' but not the 'why'—and might've accidentally stumbled into Sitting and Forgetting without realizing. In your non-action, you've forgotten your own cultivation and power entirely, letting it flow naturally. That's why you can't control it," Beimingzi elaborated.
Li Haimo stared in shock. You can play it like that? Sounds logical as hell, but... feels like you're just making it up.
"The details are for you to uncover. Head to the Confucian Little Sage Villa—they might hold answers. Xun Fuzi is the most erudite mind of our age; if even he can't enlighten you, no one in this world can," Beimingzi advised.
"Uncle-Master Beimingzi, you sure a Daoist disciple like me won't get thrashed on Confucian turf?" Li Haimo asked awkwardly.
"Confucians uphold benevolence, righteousness, propriety, wisdom, and trust—so go without fear," Beimingzi chuckled. Though inwardly, he added: Just expect a polite warning before they swing—courtesy before force.
"But since you've mastered the Chief of the Hundred Classics, at minimum, their top dog Fonian will surely seek a spar with you," Beimingzi suddenly added, as if struck by a thought.
Li Haimo froze. He'd been set to rush back and beg Xiaoyaozi for a trip to Little Sage Villa—but this? Damn it, step out and get locked by Confucianism's big boss Fonian? With my half-baked Dao Scripture skills, I might off myself before they even strike. How the hell do I fight?
"Uh, maybe I'll skip it for now. I'll figure it out on my own—might crack it eventually," Li Haimo backpedaled instantly.
"That mindset suits our Celestial Sect well," Beimingzi laughed.
Li Haimo nodded furiously, like a pecking chick. I knew it—I belong in the Celestial Sect. Just hole up, grind till invincible, then emerge. Can't pull a Ge Nie: full-health ganking the jungle or low-HP roaming the map.
_
If you want to support me and read advanced 50+ chapters and also other stories: patreon.com/Caluem