Chapter Seven: Do Not Underestimate the Young

After Ning Cheng led the couple Feng Yunting and his wife into the Hall of Tranquility, he tactfully stepped aside. Lady Mei and the Daoist Priestess of Tranquility exchanged a few polite words, thanking the elegant woman for her kindness in sheltering them, and were just about to reminisce.

But the beautiful woman waved her hand, instructing a young attendant to bring forth a long, black-lacquered wooden box.

“This is an excellent foundational technique I happened to acquire during my travels—it's not from the core teachings of Cloud Ascension Temple. But now, it seems just right for you. In these tumultuous times, it will at least grant you some means of self-protection.”

These words were directed at Lady Mei alone. Lady Mei, unable to refuse, bowed deeply once more and accepted the gift.

After receiving her thanks, the woman casually pulled a roughly printed martial manual from a nearby wooden shelf and tossed it at Ning Cheng’s feet, her tone tinged with displeasure.

“You, what’s your name? Since you led the way, I’ll reward you with this manual. Take it and leave at once—without a summons, you are not to set foot in this hall again!”

Her dislike for Ning Cheng was all too evident.

Having just received a favor, Lady Mei keenly sensed that Ning Cheng must have been misunderstood in some regard and was about to speak up for him.

But Ning Cheng had already noticed that the manual thrown to him was of the same quality as the “Five Forms Boxing” the old Daoist had given him—both were low-level techniques meant only for menial servants.

There was little point in expending effort to study such things.

So he stepped forward and replied to the woman, neither humble nor overbearing, “This manual is of little use to me, so I shall decline to thank you. I consider myself quite accomplished in techniques of this level. If you have time, Elder, I could demonstrate one or two forms for you.”

As he spoke, Ning Cheng took up the opening stance of the “Crane Fist” from the Five Forms Boxing. This stance, though rooted in the Five Forms, was subtly fused with secrets from the “Lesser Martial Canon,” lending it hidden depths. What seemed a simple, unremarkable movement was laced with countless potential variations. Most notably, the restrained surge of force in his fist was the very mark of someone who had reached the pinnacle of the art.

“Oh? When did a mere menial servant master the Crane Fist to such a level? Yuxuan, go and investigate this one’s background—how long has he been in our temple?”

The woman’s discerning eyes immediately caught the brilliance in Ning Cheng’s display, and a trace of astonishment flickered across her face as she ordered her attendant to uncover his origins.

“There’s no need to check—I can tell you myself. I’m from South Slope Village, several dozen miles away. I arrived at Cloud Ascension Temple half a month ago. The boxing was bestowed on me by Steward Wu. As for how I mastered the Five Forms so quickly—well, I am simply gifted, with keen insight.”

His words, though edged with irritation at her earlier disdain, were only because she had shown him no courtesy from the start.

In truth, once the woman perceived his martial aptitude, her annoyance at his breach of decorum dissipated.

“If you possess such talent, then for Lady Mei’s sake, I’ll grant you a superior manual. What sort of technique do you desire? Here we have every form—blade, spear, sword, halberd, axe, bow, staff, whip, fist—take your pick.”

“Moreover, since your gifts outstrip those of other menials, it’s beneath you to remain in that rank. I’ll petition the temple to promote you to an outer disciple. All the privileges due will be yours.”

Ning Cheng had only wished to win the proper respect, not to be looked down upon. Now that this respected elder’s attitude had changed and she bestowed the very benefits he had hoped to earn, his grievances vanished.

He nodded, cupped his fists in thanks, and requested a staff technique manual. Then, under the personal guidance of the attendant Yuxuan, he went to the Steward’s Hall to receive his new privileges.

Soon, only Lady Mei, Feng Yunting, and the beautiful Daoist remained in the Hall of Tranquility.

Lady Mei, stunned for a moment, finally realized that Ning Cheng, a mere servant, possessed such formidable martial skill—and had even saved her husband. The stark contrast between her first impression and his true identity left her incredulous.

When Lady Mei recounted how Ning Cheng had risked himself to save her husband, even the usually aloof and stern Daoist Priestess nodded in acknowledgment, saying with some shame, “I misjudged him, taking him for a rude, insolent fellow. No matter—when I have time, I’ll check his progress and grant him additional rewards as compensation for my mistake.”

For an elder such as her, this was already a great concession. And so, the matter was settled.

…

Half a month later, Ning Cheng finally mastered the “Lesser Yang Staff Art” gifted by the Daoist Priestess of Tranquility.

By then, he and his sister had long since moved out of the cramped woodshed by the stables and into a room near the outer disciples’ quarters. Thanks to special consideration from the priestess, his room was even more spacious than those of ordinary outer disciples, with a curtain dividing the space so the siblings could enjoy a measure of privacy at last.

This series of improved privileges meant that Ning Cheng and his sister no longer lived in hardship; their quality of life improved significantly. His sister Ning Xin now had meat and vegetables every day, her nutrition improved, and her health recovered quickly—her face even showing a rosy glow.

The little white fox now had its own nest, with a daily supply of bread and wild fruit and no more fear of hunger.

The only thing that worried Ning Cheng was that, having relinquished the daily chores of gathering grass and chopping wood, and no longer tending the livestock as an outer disciple, his supply of soul energy for the Nether Spring Sword Embryo was running dangerously low.

Otherwise, he would have accumulated enough energy to master the “Lesser Yang Staff Art” a good seven or eight days earlier.

There was one more, somewhat troublesome matter: after Ning Cheng consumed the soul energy to comprehend the techniques in the staff manual, it had, unsurprisingly, turned into a stack of blank, thread-bound paper.

Sitting on his wooden bed, holding the stack of blank sheets in one hand and propping his chin with the other, Ning Cheng pondered deeply: How was he to explain this oddity to that stern Daoist Priestess and hope for her forgiveness?