Chapter 127: Ghostly Scrawls

He Changan had not actually lost consciousness; he had merely held his breath for a moment. Given his current level of cultivation, he certainly could not defeat the disheveled Daoist before him in a direct confrontation, but for the man to think he could knock him out or render him unconscious with a single slap was to underestimate him—a "crude martial artist." Since the man was determined to keep his secrets, He Changan decided to feign unconsciousness, settling his spirit upon the lake of his heart to listen in.

The Daoist’s greasy hands rummaged through his belongings and pried open his storage pouch, a sight that left He Changan feeling both amused and frustrated. He had always assumed that only poor men like himself resorted to looting corpses, but it seemed even these high-level masters were not immune to such base habits. Mr. Qingyu’s hesitant silence, however, struck He Changan as rather dignified; this was how a true scholar should behave—thoughtful and far-sighted. That was well and good.

Eventually, Mr. Qingyu and Hu Buyu reached an agreement: Qingyu would provide two "wine recipes" in exchange for Hu Buyu performing two favors. As for the nature of these favors, the two did not explicitly state them, and He Changan could only guess they pertained to the affairs of the Demon King’s Court. As further compensation, Hu Buyu agreed to teach Mr. Qingyu his "Ghostly Scribbles."

Hu Buyu tried to back out several times, but Qingyu trapped him with biting words, forcing the Daoist to grit his teeth and accept his misfortune. He complained incessantly about his own blindness, lamenting that having one daughter who was a celestial fox was bad enough, but he also had two twin brothers named Hu Buyan. What bothered him most, however, was his poor choice of friends—how he had come to associate with such shameless scoundrels as Qingyu and A-Fei. The list of grievances went on and on. To He Changan’s ears, it was clear that Hu Buyu was truly pained to part with this "Ghostly Scribbles" technique.

"Qingyu: Kid, don't play dead, but don't make a sound either. Absorb as much as you can."

Suddenly, Mr. Qingyu activated the Confucian minor supernatural ability, "Mutual Understanding," which caught He Changan by surprise. It seemed these scholars weren't entirely honest either. And so, what was supposed to be a one-on-one trade became a session where, shielded by Qingyu’s Confucian arts, Hu Buyu lectured while both Qingyu and He Changan learned. He Changan initially felt some resistance, wondering if such "freeloading" was unrighteous. Although he didn't care much for Hu Buyu, this involved someone else’s secret techniques. However, he soon dismissed the thought of withdrawing from the "Mutual Understanding" and began to listen and contemplate in earnest. Hu Buyu’s "Ghostly Scribbles" sounded like a nonsensical name, but in reality, it was a top-tier mental cultivation method within the Daoist talisman arts; should it ever leak, the consequences would be unimaginable.

"This 'Ghostly Scribbles,' while called a talisman art, is not truly one," Hu Buyu transmitted his voice directly to Qingyu, never suspecting there was an extra listener. "I know you’ve coveted this mental technique for a long time. If I didn't reveal it to you, I suspect you would actually try to marry my daughter. You scholars, all talk of benevolence and morality, yet your hearts are filthy..."

Hu Buyu began by cursing all the scholars in the world, followed by the Daoists, Buddhists, demons, ghosts, and sorcerers. He even cursed his twin brothers, Hu Buyan, claiming those two idiots became simpletons only because they had associated with a certain shameless old scholar. Finally, he spat into the sky twice before beginning to "preach the path and clarify doubts."

Mr. Qingyu, familiar with Hu Buyu’s character, remained calm and indifferent. He Changan, having seen A-Fei engage in shouting matches, felt no ripple in his heart either. Compared to that arrogant fellow, Hu Buyu’s cursing was subpar. He merely recycled the same insults for different targets.

"The reason it is called 'Ghostly Scribbles' is that this technique draws from the talisman arts of Longhu Mountain, incorporates the sword-nurturing of sword cultivators, the formlessness of Buddhism, and the sheer shamelessness of scholars... ahem, I mean the nurturing of the scholar’s Haoran righteous energy and the principle of unity between knowledge and action. In short, Qingyu, as the third-generation successor of this technique, just understand that it is incredibly powerful."

After boasting for a while, Hu Buyu began the instruction. The "Ghostly Scribbles" was a set of mental mantras, teaching how to focus the spirit and clear the mind while wielding the brush. It acted more like a foundational manual for cultivation. Those skilled in talismans grasped the techniques of drawing; those skilled in Qi-refining grasped the wonders of the Great and Small Heavenly Cycles; and the "crude martial artist" grasped the essence of tempering the body.

What He Changan grasped, however, was the sword intent, thin as silk. It was like ink, like a brush, like carving into sand or imprinting on clay. The brush danced like a dragon, yet vanished like smoke on paper, leaving no trace—truly like a ghost’s scribbles! Within his Dantian’s spirit sea, the small black sword leaped like a sparrow, its sword energy expanding and contracting, beginning to carve characters upon the lake of his heart. Each stroke was natural and effortless, each movement subtly aligned with the Great Dao. He Changan inspected his inner vision for a long time and realized the black sword had carved a massive character: "Suffering."

A "Suffering Talisman"? Was it mocking him for not suffering enough, or was it meant to make his heart even more miserable? Gradually, a glimmer of realization dawned on him. This suffering was not that kind of suffering. Buddhism speaks of the "Three Sufferings" and the "Eight Sufferings." He Changan had read of these in a casual book, but found them too convoluted to understand. Now, reflecting on them, he began to see the simplicity beneath the complex terminology.

Hu Buyu’s boastful words before the instruction, which He Changan had initially dismissed as mere bragging, now seemed to hold profound meaning. Why was speaking with these masters so mentally exhausting? Hu Buyu had said that "Ghostly Scribbles" took the strengths of many schools and avoided their weaknesses, creating a unique, miraculous system—truly, "the benevolent see benevolence, the wise see wisdom." A "Suffering Talisman" carved upon the lake of the heart could not be simple.

Meanwhile, Mr. Qingyu fell into deep contemplation. While listening to the "Ghostly Scribbles," he thought of a demon cultivation technique and how to combine it with Confucian Haoran energy to draw a "Nurturing Talisman." Scholars have their own integrity; even if their lineage was not purely human, possessing mostly demon blood, they could not bring themselves to rely on the thick-skinned resilience of demons to force others into submission. "I am skilled at nurturing my Haoran righteous energy"—it was all about the word "nurture." How much energy he could cultivate was not something a scholar could force. Thus, he focused his mind and wrote a fist-sized "Nurture" character upon the lake. The brushwork flowed like clouds and smoke, mighty and vast. On the lake, waves rose without wind, and the spiritual energy of heaven and earth began to flow, forming a massive funnel hundreds of feet wide, pouring inward.