The dim meditation chamber was filled with a strange emptiness as Meng Qi sat atop the cloud bed, his presence seemingly here yet simultaneously distant beyond the horizon. The fragment of the Haotian Mirror in his hand, dark and lusterless, reflected an ever-changing, layered vision of countless universes, fleeting and ephemeral, displaying infinite transformations in an instant.
Unlike the normal path of legends, Meng Qi no longer possessed a “different self.” He could no longer form “projections” by assimilation, enlightenment, communication, or inclusion to strengthen connections, gradually accumulating quantitative changes into qualitative ones, achieving unity across all realms, omnipresence, and the ability to harness the energy oceans of corresponding universes through these projections. Instead, he had to forge an imprint unique to his “True Self,” an imprint embodying subtle connections, replacing the “other selves” to communicate with and control different universes.
Yet, what kind of imprint should he leave to reflect the projection of his “True Self” in corresponding universes, align with the Dao’s source, and establish those subtle links? And how should he leave such an imprint? Meng Qi was still completely in the dark, left only to grope his way forward.
However, the unique properties of the Haotian Mirror fragment itself could make this task much easier!
As Meng Qi’s divine consciousness entered the Haotian Mirror fragment, his mind grew dark and his spirit blurred, as if he were flying through an endless, cold, and dark universe, seeing no light, sensing no escape, only endless wandering.
Suddenly, the void cracked open, revealing a faint halo of light. Meng Qi’s consciousness, wrapped in the Haotian Mirror’s aura, shot swiftly toward it.
Penetrating layers of veils, the world spun and transformed, and for a brief moment, Meng Qi lost consciousness.
After an unknown duration, his awareness gradually returned, yet he found his eyes could not see, his ears could not hear, and his body had lost all sensation. Only his spirit could faintly extend outward, sensing the surrounding movements and realizing his consciousness was trapped within a wooden puppet no larger than a palm.
Could it be that I’ve possessed a puppet?
This unprecedented situation left Meng Qi momentarily stunned. Was this the path of “creating an imprint” revealed by the Haotian Mirror fragment?
As this thought arose, he “heard” sounds approaching.
This was a common ruined temple in the wilderness. Night had fallen deeply, rain poured like curtains, isolating the temple from the outside world, making it seem like a realm apart.
Inside, corpses lay scattered in disorder, each with different wounds, yet all testifying to the killer’s astonishing sword speed.
“The blood hasn’t coagulated yet; this must have happened not long ago,” a young man with a topknot, holding a long sword, knelt beside the corpses, carefully inspecting them.
He had an appealing, handsome face, but his demeanor was slovenly, the kind of person who preferred sitting to standing, and lying down to sitting.
Beside him stood a middle-aged scholar dressed in literati robes, sporting a five-beard goatee, his attire meticulously arranged. His eyes held a sharp glint, and his sword-holding hand bore a faint purple hue. He sighed deeply, saying, “These are the members of the Four Seas Escort Agency’s Chief Escort, Miao.”
“Chief Escort Miao?” Several voices spoke simultaneously. Around them were two young men and a young woman. The girl appeared no older than fifteen or sixteen, her youthful face just beginning to mature, exuding innocent charm, standing farthest from the corpses with a timid expression. One of the men was young and dull-witted, the other with half-white hair and wrinkles at the corners of his eyes.
Could it really be Chief Escort Miao of the Four Seas Escort Agency?
He was a renowned figure across the land, if not among the very best, then certainly close. Now, he lay dead in a ruined temple, unnoticed and uncared for.
Had he accepted some particularly dangerous mission?
The middle-aged scholar shook his head: “A common man bears no guilt, but possession of a treasure brings calamity. There is no greater peril than the martial world. Cheng’er, you needn’t look further. Once this rain stops, we must leave this place immediately.”
With that, he turned and sat before the collapsed Buddha statue.
“Yes, Master,” Xu Cheng withdrew his gaze, but the images of the wounds lingered in his mind, seemingly coming alive, transforming into flashes of sword light, swift and terrifying.
What an astonishingly fast sword!
“Daddy, you seem to know something about this?” The young girl, Shang Lingxi, with her youthful charm, sensed the unspoken meaning in her father’s words and, unable to suppress her curiosity, darted over like a fox to coax him for answers.
Xu Cheng and the other disciples also turned their gazes expectantly toward him.
What kind of treasure could have led to the death of Chief Escort Miao of the famed Four Seas Escort Agency?
Shang Jiuming glanced around, hesitated briefly, then said, “I suppose there’s no harm in telling you. After all, it’s a tale often told in the martial world, though you lack the level to access such knowledge directly.”
“What exactly happened?” Shang Lingxi asked, puzzled.
Shang Jiuming gently stroked his sword, signaling his disciples and daughter to sit before slowly beginning: “Have you ever heard of the Four Marvelous Books?”
“No…” Xu Cheng, Shang Lingxi, and others shook their heads blankly. If he were to speak of formidable martial arts, they knew many, such as the “Star Transformation True Sutra,” the “Heavenly Silkworm Divine Skill,” the “Great Solar Wheel of Fire,” the “Soul-Siphoning Secret,” the “Heavenly Net Demon Skill,” and the “Immortal Vitality Formula.” All were supreme martial arts wielded by the greatest experts to dominate the world. Yet the “Four Marvelous Books” were completely unknown to them.
A wistful expression crossed Shang Jiuming’s face: “The martial path diminishes day by day. Over a hundred years ago, the Four Marvelous Books coexisted, producing generations of martial arts patriarchs, unmatched by today’s martial world.”
“The first of these books is the ‘Dan Essentials,’ whose origins are unknown, yet it directly points toward the Dao. ‘Swallowing a Golden Elixir into the belly, my fate is mine to command, not Heaven’s.’ Though not directly cultivable, it gave rise to Daoist masterpieces like the ‘Star Transformation True Sutra’ and the ‘Heavenly Silkworm Divine Skill,’ producing great patriarchs like the Tianhe Cultivator. It is now preserved in the Daoist holy site, Zhitian Monastery, and has not appeared publicly for many years.”
“The ‘Star Transformation True Sutra’ and the ‘Heavenly Silkworm Divine Skill’ both originated from the ‘Dan Essentials’?” Shang Lingxi covered her mouth with her right hand, astonished yet enlightened. Xu Cheng and the other disciples were equally stunned.
The supreme martial arts they knew were merely fragments of one aspect of the ‘Dan Essentials’!
No wonder it’s called a Marvelous Book!
“The second Marvelous Book is the ‘Heretic Canon’ of the Demon Sect, which they call the ‘Holy Canon.’ It explores the mysteries of heaven and humanity, divided into multiple volumes, each containing formidable demonic techniques, such as the ‘Heavenly Net Skill’ and the ‘Soul-Siphoning Secret.’ It is said that if the ‘Heretic Canon’ is reunited, it allows one to cultivate supreme demonic arts and uncover the secret of shattering the void. Unfortunately, over the past century, the Demon Sect has become increasingly fragmented, and many volumes of the ‘Heretic Canon’ have long been lost…” Shang Jiuming continued, captivating Xu Cheng, Shang Lingxi, and the others, who now understood the origin of the “Heavenly Net Demon Skill” and realized that even the most powerful branches of the Demon Sect today were not at their peak.
Shang Jiuming continued: “The Northern Buddhist Sect’s ‘Great Solar Wheel of Fire’ dominates the current era, but over a hundred years ago, their most terrifying and powerful technique was not this martial art, but the ‘Secret Transmission of Fundamental Wisdom Sutra.’ Cultivating the spirit, completing the empowerment, and accumulating strength across generations, it produced beings as mighty as walking Buddhas, capable of dragging others into past-life reincarnations, mysterious and unpredictable, making it the most enigmatic of the Marvelous Books.”
Xu Cheng, Shang Lingxi, and others exchanged astonished glances. This description sounded more like a myth than a martial arts manual!
Could there truly be such a wondrous martial art in the world?
“Unfortunately, over a hundred years ago, the Living Buddha of that era and the Sword of Astonishment confronted each other in the ruined capital, engaging in a legendary spiritual duel that became a timeless masterpiece. Both entered reincarnation simultaneously, competing across lifetimes. In the end, the Sword of Astonishment proved slightly superior, leading the Living Buddha to defeat and enlightenment—he passed away on the spot, his body crystallizing into indestructible crystal, immortalized for generations. However, this was an unexpected demise, leaving him no time to transmit his teachings or empower his successors. The accumulated spiritual strength and wisdom across countless generations were thus severed. It became exceedingly difficult for later generations to cultivate the ‘Secret Transmission of Fundamental Wisdom Sutra,’ and to this day, no one has succeeded,” Shang Jiuming sighed, recounting the legendary tales passed down by old martial artists.
This story was even more thrilling and unbelievable than any storyteller’s tale… Shang Lingxi and the other disciples’ eyes sparkled with wonder, their imaginations running wild. They became deeply intrigued by the Marvelous Books. If they could ever obtain one and successfully cultivate its techniques, wouldn’t the entire world lie at their feet?
“Daddy, what about the fourth Marvelous Book?” Shang Lingxi eagerly asked, her clear, bright eyes blinking curiously.
“That’s right, what’s the fourth Marvelous Book?” Xu Cheng also couldn’t contain his curiosity. They had completely forgotten their original purpose of discovering what treasure had led to Chief Escort Miao’s death.
A faint smile appeared on Shang Jiuming’s face, tinged with sorrow: “It’s not a book. It’s a puppet—the Divine Sword Puppet!”
As he spoke these four words, his expression turned serious and solemn.
“The Divine Sword Puppet?” Shang Lingxi looked at her father with innocent confusion.
The final Marvelous Book was a puppet?
Shang Jiuming’s eyes darkened: “Also over a hundred years ago, the Sword Emperor and the Sword of Astonishment dueled at Sunset Peak in the ruined capital, both shattering the void and vanishing, leaving behind an unmatched legacy. Since then, no one has ever replicated that feat.”
“Before their duel, they used a randomly found puppet as parchment and their swords as brushes, inscribing thirty characters with their lifelong sword techniques. The first fourteen and the last sixteen were respectively the Sword Emperor’s and the Sword of Astonishment’s understanding of swordsmanship, containing their peerless sword techniques. Especially the former, it also included methods of qi circulation, recreating the Sword Emperor’s path.”
“Initially, the Divine Sword Puppet was kept by the Sword Emperor’s disciple, but as time passed, it eventually drifted into the martial world. Each time it appeared, it brought bloodshed and chaos. Those who truly obtained it became top sword experts in the realm. The annihilation of the Mu Clan, the disintegration of the Five Elements Sword Sect—all were caused by this puppet, with countless examples.”
“Did Chief Escort Miao die because of it?” Xu Cheng blurted out.
Shang Jiuming nodded slightly: “Chief Escort Miao’s martial skills have greatly improved in recent years, and rumors say he obtained the Divine Sword Puppet.”
The disciples were momentarily stunned, never expecting to stumble upon matters related to the Marvelous Books!
“In fact, our sect’s sword techniques also have significant ties to the Divine Sword Puppet,” Shang Jiuming suddenly sighed.
“Eh?” Shang Lingxi looked puzzled.
Shang Jiuming smiled bitterly: “Our ancestor was originally the commander of the ruined capital’s imperial guards, and it was he who delivered the ‘Divine Sword Puppet’ as a letter between the Sword Emperor and the Sword of Astonishment. Witnessing the unparalleled sword techniques inscribed upon it, he secretly copied them, preserving the formidable sword techniques ‘Demon Subduing’ and ‘Astonishing Sword.’ Later, our family grew into a sect, flourishing for a time, but gradually declined, losing the copied inscriptions, and our sword techniques became incomplete.”
“I wonder when we might regain our former glory…”
His voice faded, and a heavy silence filled the air.
As Meng Qi listened to their conversation, he realized he had returned to the world of the Sword Emperor and the Demon Queen—and had become the very “Divine Sword Puppet” left behind!
My past experiences and preserved sword techniques have become legends in this martial world. What connection does this have with leaving an imprint?
How would this strange journey brought by the Haotian Mirror fragment develop to generate such an imprint?
Xu Cheng’s mind wandered as he lazily lay back, hands behind his head, daydreaming about the Four Marvelous Books.
Suddenly, his eyes lit up. He noticed a wooden puppet with a comical grin hidden in the shadows atop a crossbeam.
A puppet?
As the thought surfaced, he noticed the puppet’s eyes blinking, shedding a single clear tear.
Blinking… tears… Xu Cheng felt as if struck by lightning, as if encountering a ghost, his heart pounding wildly.
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