The lamplight cast a soft glow on the desk.
Zhou Li had borrowed Aunt Jiang’s notebook and was checking information while reading a book.
It was a book he had gotten from Zheng Zhilan.
This book was several hundred years old, made from a very special material—neither leather nor paper—and it hadn’t decayed over the years. The hidden text was visible only to special people; ordinary readers would see different content. It sounded advanced, but in reality, Master Chushan hadn’t handled the technique well, or perhaps the technology itself was underdeveloped, often resulting in overlapping characters that hindered reading.
Zhou Li found it very difficult to read.
The font wasn’t as hard to recognize as Zheng Zhilan had claimed, probably because she hadn’t read many books. To Zhou Li, it just looked like somewhat sloppy semi-cursive traditional characters.
He found it difficult for two reasons: traditional characters and classical Chinese.
When modern people engage in regular reading, they can fully recognize traditional characters interspersed within simplified text. This is usually because traditional and simplified characters share a degree of similarity, and also because people can infer meaning from context.
However, identifying an isolated traditional Chinese character is very difficult. If it’s part of a word, it becomes much simpler. Placed within a sentence, it’s completely recognizable; one might even know the character without specifically looking at it.
But reading classical Chinese was very challenging.
There were many traditional characters that Zhou Li not only didn’t recognize, but he also had to rely on handwriting to look them up, which was quite a handful. Once he knew what the character was, he then used a computer to search for its meaning in classical Chinese.
Some characters have many meanings—they can function as verbs, nouns, or adjectives. Even today, don’t some poems have various interpretations?
What was more frustrating was that the semi-cursive script also included small seal script characters.
These elegant characters usually appeared when citing something in the text. Their calligraphy was very graceful. Zhou Li guessed that Master Chushan, due to some unwritten tradition or rule, had copied the original script of the cited materials.
Perhaps it was similar to copying calligraphy models, where if the original model had mistakes crossed out, the copier also had to replicate those markings.
Zhou Li wasn’t sure about the specifics.
In any case, he found it very difficult.
Zheng Zhilan had Qinghe to read and explain things to her, while Zhou Li only had Huai Xu lying on the bed, contemplating life. Fortunately, Master Chushan didn’t use allusions. Otherwise, considering the famous events and figures spanning thousands of years of history, with each dynasty preferring specific references, Zhou Li might have been qualified to study archeology in graduate school after finishing these few books.
Luckily, the text was large, so each book wasn’t very voluminous.
After many days, Zhou Li finally finished one book.
This one primarily introduced Spiritual Power and contained many rumors and boasts that Master Chushan had heard. For example, he had once heard about a genius in South Zhili who was born with incredibly strong Spiritual Power. Disbelieving, he traveled far and wide to meet him, and indeed, the other party turned out to be exceptionally powerful.
Powerful beyond reason, a good deal stronger than him!
It should be noted that Heavenly Masters are born; ordinary people have no way to become one.
In the ancient times described by Master Chushan, many officials and nobles tried everything to become a Heavenly Master. And in the era of Spring Mountain Taoist, many fools still believed in unorthodox methods to become one, some of which were extremely cruel and bloody, lamented by many.
Similarly, a Heavenly Master’s Spiritual Power is also innate.
The strength of a Heavenly Master’s Spiritual Power is determined at birth and can hardly be increased through later efforts.
The reason this wasn’t stated absolutely was likely because Master Chushan himself was somewhat incompetent. He boasted in his writings that he had achieved minor proficiency in the highly challenging Golden Thread technique, capable of releasing a hundred Golden Threads. Knowing that ancient people loved to exaggerate, and even if it were a factual record, his half-life’s effort still couldn’t compare to Miss Zheng’s few years of practice.
So, Master Chushan had never seen anything that could enhance a Heavenly Master’s Spiritual Power.
He had only heard from friends that some awkwardly named item possessed such miraculous effects, and to obtain such a treasure, one would have to endure numerous hardships and possess unparalleled good fortune.
After writing all this, he didn’t forget to add that his friend loved to boast, and not a single word he said could be trusted.
Closing the book, Zhou Li let out a long sigh.
An image had already formed in his mind: a once worldly, somewhat unctuous Heavenly Master, now in his later years, sitting before a Daoist temple, writing casually. Facing the splendid scenery, he would write while reminiscing, and at particularly delightful parts, he would even look up, stroke his beard, and laugh aloud. The old demon, standing with him, would have curiously asked back then, "What are you laughing at?"
He was, across hundreds of years, getting to know Master Chushan.
Huai Xu, however, had been quiet for a long time.
Based on his understanding of Huai Xu, Zhou Li knew this silence was abnormal. Huai Xu likely thought reading these texts wasn’t as important as preparing for university entrance exams; or rather, he probably felt these books could be read anytime, unlike the imminent college entrance exams.
So, he became a stumbling block on Zhou Li’s path of study.
Sometimes, he would stand behind Zhou Li, secretly peering at the book. When he encountered a part he could understand, he would clasp his hands behind his back like an old scholar and tell Zhou Li that, being an ancient demon, Zhou Li could ask him anything he didn’t understand.
Zhou Li had actually asked him once, but the passage Zhou Li inquired about wasn’t the one Huai Xu had been prepared to explain.
At other times, he would constantly chat with Zhou Li, sit beside him eating fruit, watch *Bright Sword*, or crack sunflower seeds...
With a snap, Zhou Li turned off the desk lamp.
He stood up, walked to the wardrobe, picked up a pair of shorts and a T-shirt, and said to Huai Xu, "Still struggling?"
"You’ll have to face it eventually."
"If there’s no danger, we should still go tomorrow."
Zhou Li then went to wash up.
Half an hour later, he returned to the room and lay on the lower bunk playing with his phone. Huai Xu was still tossing and turning on the top bunk. Although Huai Xu seemed to be trying to move gently so Zhou Li wouldn’t notice, the wooden bed was, after all, over a decade old.
Brother Nan popped up in the group chat.
She first posted a photo from a construction site: bright red bricks under a scorching sun.
Then she said: "Working on a construction site, moving bricks, is really tiring!"
Zhou Li continued reading without changing his expression.
Someone asked: "How much do you make a day?"
Brother Nan replied: "My second uncle pays me 200."
That person said: "I want to go to the construction site too! Can you introduce me?"
A girl who knew Brother Nan well asked: "Brother Nan, do you have a six-pack?"
Girl: "Wow! Can I touch it?"
Girl: "Brother Nan, aren’t you getting very tanned?"
Brother Nan sent a scornful emoji: "How could I? I cover up so only my eyes are showing, and I use sunblock. There’s no way I’d get tanned."
A senior male student said: "Classmate Li Nan, when school starts, are you interested in joining our student council? It can earn you extra academic credit."
Zhou Li couldn’t help but smile.
He thought the start of school would definitely be fun.
The night deepened, long past Zhou Li’s bedtime. Huai Xu, however, was still wide awake, staring at the patches of light on the ceiling. He tried to recall bits of his past. It was somewhat helpful, but mostly, it just brought discomfort.
Headache. It felt like it was splitting.
Suddenly, he heard Zhou Li’s voice—
Huai Xu was startled. He rolled over to the edge of the bed and peered down at Zhou Li. "You haven’t slept yet?"
He thought Zhou Li would have been asleep long ago.
Zhou Li, with his eyes closed, spoke softly, "I’ll go with you tomorrow. The Blood Demon only eats demons, not humans, right?"
Huai Xu hesitated. "What if I turn into the Great Devil King, try to kill you, and then destroy the world..."
Huai Xu had made up his mind.
Aunt Jiang, wearing an apron, sat at the dining table. She blinked and asked, "Going to Puzhou County for fun, huh? Are you coming back today?"
"Oh, you can’t make it back today? Then how many days will you be?"
"It depends on my classmates."
"Which classmates?" Aunt Jiang asked, then, feeling it might be prying, waved her hand. "Never mind, never mind, I won’t ask so much. Just remember, you young people, be sure to stay safe when you’re out! It’s hot in the summer, so also remember to exercise restraint. Don’t go too wild!"
"If you run out of money, remember to tell Aunt Jiang. No matter how much, I guarantee I won’t tell Old Zhou."
Zhou Li then shouldered his bag and left the house again.