"Uncle, I've practiced the 'Jade Sword True Understanding' for half a year, yet my Sword Qi still cannot kill enemies."
In a dilapidated courtyard, a fifteen- or sixteen-year-old boy was seeking advice from a burly man.
The burly man raised his thick eyebrows and said, "Didn't I tell you, that within three days of practice, you had produced your first breath of True Qi, and three days later, your first strand of Sword Qi, a rare Sword Dao genius one might find merely in ten thousand?"
"Yes, Uncle, you indeed said so half a year ago."
Having lived a life of poverty and enduring humiliations, the youth, who couldn't even muster the courage to confess to his childhood sweetheart, could only watch as she married someone else. Desperate for this swordsmanship to change his life.
"Then show me a Finger Sword strike," said the burly man.
The boy lowered his left arm and extended his index finger, a Divine Sword unsheathed, thrusting forward.
A streak of white Sword Qi burst forth from the fingertip, an impressive sight.
Facing the incoming white Sword Qi, the burly man was unperturbed, standing still without moving an inch.
There was a light 'snap' sound.
The Sword Qi made only a tiny indentation on the man's clothes before vanishing in an instant.
The boy showed a frustrated expression, saying, "Half a year, and this Sword Qi can only brush off a bit of dust."
The burly man laughed heartily, "That's because the Jade Sword True Qi in your body is too weak; to train it into true Jade Sword True Qi, you must fill the insubstantial with the substantial."
The boy asked eagerly, "Uncle, how do I fill the insubstantial with the substantial?"
"You need to take medicine."
"What kind of medicine?"
"What kind of Big Medicine?"
The boy looked at the burly man's broad and intense face, eyes brimming with hope.
Saying so, the burly man, like the boy, extended the index finger of his left hand and thrust forward.
A jet of white Sword Qi shot out from the fingertip, and with a bang, it pierced the boy's belly.
Looking down, the boy saw his abdomen slashed open, with blood gushing out.
The boy's eyes filled with confusion, and he said, "Uncle, what are you...doing?"
The burly man replied earnestly, "You are my Big Medicine."
The burly man struck again with his finger, and this time the Sword Qi followed the same wound, piercing through the boy's abdomen completely.
The boy knelt to the ground, clutching his wound, looking up with eyes full of bewilderment and fear.
The previously forthright Uncle, still smiling cheerfully, was indistinguishable from the heroes described in leisurely tales.
How he wished this was just a nightmare.
He had yet to master the sword, yet to kill those who had insulted him, yet to kill Mei's husband and his entire family, and take Mei...
At this moment, another Uncle of identical appearance walked over.
This Uncle set up a big pot and started boiling water.
"Let's not waste this Big Medicine."
With a thud, the boy practicing swordsmanship was thrown into the boiling pot, struggling, attempting to scream, but his throat produced no sound.
The two men who looked identical sprinkled various colorful herbs into the pot.
The flames reflected on their faces, making them appear robust and utterly hearty.
Dusk, Duan Yun was curled up asleep on the bed, his expression both exhausted and pained.
That afternoon, after returning from making house calls, he went to buy some vegetables, only to suddenly be kicked flying.
A vegetable-selling aunty who was serving him at the time and a neighboring Firewood Man were kicked along with him.
The ones who kicked them told them to roll out of the way, not to block the road, as the Gang Leader would be passing by.
So Duan Yun could do nothing but grit his teeth and get up, but the aunty was not so quick to rise and took another kick.
They treated people like kicking footballs, merely because a Gang Leader was passing by; an unknowing person might even think that it was the Emperor passing through.
The matter sounds absurd, but it did happen.
In this place where the County Magistrate is often killed by bandits and makes an embarrassing spectacle of himself, a local martial arts gang's Gang Leader indeed has the presence of a village emperor.
Duan Yun was not one to hold grudges; he only knew that it was the Xuanxiong Gang's men who had kicked him.
Everyone in the Xuanxiong Gang practiced martial arts; the elite members who were successful in their cultivation had palms as wide and thick as bear's paws, capable of killing a person with a single slap.
Similarly, these people were often irrationally aggressive, just like uncontrollable bear children; the man who kicked someone nonchalantly today was living proof of this.
This is said to be the chronic effect of practicing the Xuanxiong Palm.
Duan Yun didn't care about these things; he only knew that he felt terrible.
That man's kick was very heavy, so heavy that it felt like a ball of fire burning inside his belly, causing him severe pain.
At the same time that he was burned with pain, Duan Yun's self-esteem was also scorched.
It had been ten days since he transmigrated here. Before his transmigration, he was a corporate slave, working tirelessly and often being gaslighted. After transmigration, though his parents had passed away, he had barely taken over his father's profession and reluctantly became a doctor.
Although he was the lowest level and least needed and valued gynecologist, he was still a doctor.
Duan Yun thought he would receive some respect, but the reality...
After lying down for about an hour, night had completely fallen, and Duan Yun struggled to sit up from the bed.
The pain had eased a lot, but the contemptuous gaze of that man, and his ball-kicking style, kept repeating in his mind.
Duan Yun was very tired and injured, yet he didn't want to sleep.
He still had to train in martial arts!
He finally understood that in this violent and humiliating world, neither the Medical Practitioner's Compassionate Heart nor a gynecologist was of any use—only martial arts training could pave a way out.
Otherwise, one would merely be slapped or kicked to death at other people's whims, without a shred of dignity.
Duan Yun fumbled under his pillow and pulled out a booklet; written on the cover were four characters— "Jade Sword True Understanding."
He had bought this secret book from an elderly man the day before.
The man had said he had an unusual bone structure suitable for cultivation and that they were fated. The price was one silver.
He bargained with one-tenth of a silver, and to his surprise, the man accepted.
Such eagerness to sell usually didn't signify good quality.
But sometimes, what people lack is just a bit of hope.
Thus, he spent one-tenth of a silver, earned over several days of medical visits, on this hope.
If previously Duan Yun had thought of practicing medicine just to get by while casually training in martial arts, hoping to change his life as if winning the lottery,
Today's experience had completely changed his thinking.
He saw the importance of practicing martial arts more than ever.
With complex and intense emotions, Duan Yun opened the "Jade Sword True Understanding" that he previously hadn't had time to practice.
The "Jade Sword True Understanding" comprised four techniques, with the first one being the "Jade Sword Stance," which involved using stance training as a foundation to perform breathing and Qi circulation, thereby cultivating a breath of Jade Sword True Qi.
This was the starting point of the Jade Sword True Understanding. Without cultivating the Jade Sword True Qi, the subsequent three sword techniques would be impossible to master.
But Duan Yun was stumped by the first technique.
The stance wasn't difficult, similar to practicing horse stance, but the meridian map was a problem.
It wasn't that he couldn't recognize the meridian points; as a gynecologist, he had that knowledge. The main issue was that half of the page with the meridian map was smeared with grease, rendering it a blur, impossible to distinguish which meridian it was.
He could only blame his haste during medical visits that he hadn't properly inspected the book, proving the point that "you get what you pay for."
Duan Yun's dream of becoming an unparalleled Sword God had shattered on the first page, leaving him incredibly frustrated.
He was not yet resigned to giving up, lighting an oil lamp, trying to see through the grease stain with the light.
Squinting, Duan Yun seemed to finally discern a few acupoints.
"Shenzhu, Yangxi, Xia Bai, Hand Three Miles..."
Duan Yun didn't know whether it was correct or not.
This secret book, filled with his life's hopes, would become waste paper if he did not even attempt to try; he found it hard to accept at the moment.
Duan Yun decided to give it a try!
He was almost kicked to death and still worry about inconsequential things!
Following the secret book's descriptions, Duan Yun positioned himself in the stance and started to breathe according to the pattern, exhaling shallowly nine times and deeply once.
Simultaneously, he visualized the breath drawn in by the breathing technique entering his body's meridians, flowing through acupoints such as Shenzhu and Yangxi.
The initial breathing wasn't smooth since Duan Yun's Sea of Consciousness was not very clear, and he kept thinking about other things.
But gradually, he entered a meditative state.
At that moment, Duan Yun only felt the world was peaceful, and the breath he drew in through his breathing technique flowed through his meridians, gradually sinking into his Dantian, disappearing without a trace.
He stood there in stance, continuing his breathing regimen, unaware of the passage of time.
After an unknown amount of time, suddenly, the stillness of his Dantian rippled as if a fish had broken the calm surface of the water.
The ripples dispersed, and a breath leapt from the Dantian into his meridians.
Duan Yun could feel that this breath was entirely different from the air he had been breathing in and out before.