Chapter 41: The Blood-Burning Technique

Elder Zhang had watched over the Library Pavilion for many years, yet never before had he encountered someone as peculiar as Ning Xiu. Normally, after selecting their martial arts manuals, members would choose one or two, then use their merit to borrow them and leave. At first, Elder Zhang assumed Ning Xiu was simply hesitating over which technique to choose, but soon realized that was not the case.

He had observed Ning Xiu for quite some time and found that he seemed compelled to pick up almost every manual, perusing each one—not for too long, but never too briefly either.

But what could one possibly glean in such a short time? If it was merely to judge suitability, he lingered too long; yet, as for actual cultivation—how could that be possible?

“Elder, may I spend the night here?” Ning Xiu inquired again.

Elder Zhang looked at him, discerning not a trace of jest in his words. After a moment’s silence, he replied, “You know the rules of the Library Pavilion: it is strictly forbidden to take any books out without authorization, and absolutely no copying is allowed.”

“You may stay the night, but do not think of violating these rules. With the Pavilion’s security, even a first-class expert would only meet one end by force—death, and a most miserable one at that.”

“Thank you, Elder,” Ning Xiu responded, before turning back to lose himself once more in the sea of books.

Though Elder Zhang had long since withdrawn from most sect affairs, nothing that happened in the main hall could escape his notice. He too knew that Ning Xiu would depart for Phoenix Stream in three days—a place so perilous that even he, secluded in the Library Pavilion, had heard its infamy. To his mind, if even a veteran like Yan Song had perished there, Ning Xiu’s chances were slim indeed.

Ordinarily, he would never have accepted such a task. Yet, having taken it, he should have been preparing in earnest. In Elder Zhang’s view, the places most worth visiting were the Medicine Hall and the Armory—certainly not the Library Pavilion. No martial art could be mastered in a few short days; what could he possibly accomplish in three?

It seemed to Elder Zhang that Ning Xiu was simply an oddity, and with that thought, all his strange behavior made sense. It was not so strange that a strange man would do strange things.

...

Ning Xiu, however, had no time to ponder what others thought. Within three days, he had to devour the entire collection of the Bamboo Grove Society’s Library Pavilion.

He massaged his aching temples, withdrew another manual from the shelf, and began to read rapidly.

...

Stars twinkled—an entire night passed without sleep.

When Elder Zhang arrived at the Pavilion early the next morning, he found Ning Xiu still engrossed in his books, as focused as the evening before when they had last parted.

He opened a window, letting in a rush of fresh air along with golden beams of sunlight.

Seeing the golden light dancing across the pages, Ning Xiu finally looked up, his eyes narrowing slightly. Setting aside the book, a faint smile played upon his lips.

He had not even realized that dawn had broken.

Glancing over his shoulder at Elder Zhang standing not far away, Ning Xiu nodded in greeting before making his way to another bookshelf.

“Not merely a peculiar fellow—turns out he’s a madman as well...” Elder Zhang shook his head, then began his own work for the day.

Around noon, Ning Xiu set down the last book and prepared to ascend to the third floor.

The third floor was exceptionally quiet; at this hour, the entire Pavilion was deserted, let alone the uppermost level.

Only Ning Xiu and a single purple bamboo bookshelf occupied the space.

There were no manuals on this shelf, only wooden plaques—each bearing a brief description of an advanced technique.

“All the martial arts on the third floor are treasured secrets of our sect, accessible only to elders and above. Though you are merely acting as an elder for now, you’re entitled to this privilege,” Elder Zhang said, having appeared at some point without Ning Xiu noticing. “As per our rules, each elder may peruse one third-floor manual each year without cost. Once you’ve made your choice, just bring me the plaque.”

With that, Elder Zhang turned to leave.

Watching his retreating figure, Ning Xiu rubbed his forehead and sighed inwardly; it seemed his original plan was for naught. But this, after all, was reasonable—prodigies with photographic memories were rare but not unheard of; for the lesser techniques on the lower floors, it mattered little, but every manual on the third floor was a strategic treasure. How could such secrets be so easily revealed?

Thus, Ning Xiu would have to adapt and carefully select his technique.

At present, he had no shortage of inner cultivation methods. The Nine Yang Divine Skill, though not exactly godlike, was more than sufficient for most situations he would face.

As for martial techniques, he already possessed the Blood Blade and the Deadly Three Blades for sabers, and the Hundred Phantasm Cloud Mist Thirteen Forms of Mount Heng for swords—though he could certainly use some reinforcement in his repertoire of moves.

What he truly lacked, however, were movement techniques and external hardening arts.

The Nine Yang Divine Skill provided excellent protection, but if he could add a top-tier external hardening technique, combining inner and outer strength, he would become nearly invincible in the martial world.

The importance of movement techniques went without saying. So long as one survived, anything was possible; at critical moments, the value of agility became all the more apparent.

Rather than choose hastily, Ning Xiu opened his “Martial God” system.

After a night’s relentless effort, he now possessed thirty-seven Universal One-Star Technique Fragments in his inventory. Since ten fragments sufficed to synthesize one technique, he could exchange for three one-star techniques immediately.

There were plenty of one-star techniques, and though Ning Xiu was spoiled for choice, few truly suited him.

After much deliberation, he selected the movement manuals “Hundredfold Steps” and “Eight-Step Cicada,” as well as the external hardening art, “Shaolin Golden Bell Shield.”

With his survival now assured, he could finally focus on boosting his combat prowess.

Ning Xiu’s gaze swept across the wooden plaques, finally settling on one.

“Blood Ignition Secret Art.”

According to its description, this was a technique that allowed the practitioner to burn their own blood in exchange for a temporary surge in power.

For Ning Xiu, who possessed the Nine Yang Divine Skill and thus formidable recovery, what he lacked was precisely explosive strength.

“Elder Zhang, I would like to study the ‘Blood Ignition Secret Art.’”

“Blood Ignition?” Elder Zhang took the plaque, frowning as he fetched a key and unlocked a cabinet, drawing forth the manual.

“Take it. In my opinion, this is not a technique I would recommend. But since you’ve chosen, I won’t say more. You know the rules: no copying, no spreading the knowledge.”

Ning Xiu accepted the manual and replied, “Of course, Elder. Thank you.”

“Well, you ought to be on your way. Some people are likely growing impatient already,” Elder Zhang said, waving him off with a hint of irritation.