The most dazzling ray of golden light burst forth like a mirror suddenly unveiled, revealing flowing characters that made every player’s heart race: the long-awaited Pushing Heart Palm manual.
The manual’s description read: The supreme martial art of Heart Washing Manor, comprising ten techniques such as [Separate Mountain Hit Cow], [Vast Rivers and Seas], [Angry Dragon Emerges from Water], and [Peach Grove Phantom]… It required 5,000 contribution points. A prominent warning noted up front: Learning the Pushing Heart Palm would make one a retainer of Heart Washing Manor. Leaving would require “forgetting” the acquired technique.
Players understood the string of red text that followed—this was standard game procedure. Those switching sects or classes had to forsake their past skills and cripple their own cultivation.
A glance at the price left half the players choking in disbelief.
“Wah, the dream martial art is right there, looks super strong, but I can’t afford it.”
“I’ve done too few tasks. I’m going to cozy up to the NPCs—make sure they save the pig-rearing and farming quests for me today!”
The game had been in closed beta for half a month now, and few players held 5,000 contribution points. Linghu Xiao happened to be one of them.
The moment he spotted the golden martial arts manual, excitement surged through him. Without a second thought, he strode forward and spent his 5,000 points on the spot.
Ever since Chef Shao had showcased his skills by the river, Linghu Xiao had yearned for this. Now, his wish had finally come true.
【Congratulations, Young Hero Linghu Xiao! You have successfully exchanged for Heart Washing Manor’s supreme martial art, the Pushing Heart Palm. Others must be green with envy!】
As the system prompt chimed, a golden manual dropped into existence, dissolving into a beam of light that merged with his consciousness. Amid the crowd’s envious, murderous glares, Linghu Xiao grinned from ear to ear. He quickly flipped to the first page—and discovered he couldn’t understand a thing.
The cover read Pushing Heart Palm. Each page depicted a little figure demonstrating moves, palm winds whipping fiercely.
Linghu Xiao flipped through the entire manual, his face draining of color.
His attention had fixated entirely on how adorable the practice figurine looked. He felt like he was reading a picture book. Did this mean he had no talent for martial arts?
No way!
The 007 System realized it had overestimated the players. Simply providing a manual wasn’t enough; they needed a master to guide them.
Ruan Xuezong had anticipated this. He had trained in martial arts since childhood and knew that mastering any skill required a teacher—be it a parent, elder, friend, or even foe. For interstellar players, though, video tutorials were probably most familiar.
So he had the 007 System record videos of every technique he performed.
In his fumbling, Linghu Xiao soon discovered a [Martial Arts Demonstration] button on his system interface. Guessing it was the accompanying video, he clicked a technique at random: [Peach Grove Phantom].
The players’ visions darkened, replaced by a tutorial video rivaling the game’s finest CG.
Its realism was overwhelming. Everyone felt immersed in a fragrant peach grove, pink petals swirling amid the blooms. A figure in white stood there, the familiar Bronze Mask on his face drawing gasps from the crowd.
“You’ve arrived. Let’s begin the lesson,” Ruan Xuezong said.
Without wasting words on the bewildered Linghu Xiao, Ruan Xuezong first explained the technique’s principles, then moved to a live demonstration.
For a demonstration, an opponent was needed. Soon, a shadowy black-clad figure appeared amid the rouge-hued peach blossoms—a professional assassin, his face shrouded in black cloth, reeking of blood. The man looked utterly confused about his sudden presence.
Black against white, the contrast was stark. Even in pixelated form, no one would mistake them.
Ruan Xuezong struck with a fierce palm, whipping up gales that sent pink-and-white petals dancing, nearly blinding onlookers.
Eight golden palms materialized in the sky, hurtling from all directions. The black-clad man’s eyes bulged; he froze, unable to discern the real palm from the illusions. He hesitated for a split second on which way to dodge—then took the hit squarely.
Blood sprayed from his mouth as he crumpled. The video ended.
It was short, but it left the players stunned. “I don’t get it, but damn, it’s impressive!”
“No way—I need to watch it again. Which of those eight palms is real?”
“Don’t bother. The enemy couldn’t tell either, so he panicked and got smashed. Pushing Heart Palm is OP!”
Many rewatched endlessly but learned nothing more.
That was the essence of [Peach Grove Phantom]: sometimes eight illusions to one real strike, or nine fakes to one true. Palms assailed from every angle. Just when foes calculated one-in-eight odds, the illusions turned real, leaving them battered and spitting blood.
Only Linghu Xiao, who had redeemed the manual, experienced a Sudden Enlightenment upon viewing. He immediately mimicked the move, conjuring three illusions to one real palm.
It was far from nine fakes to one true or eight illusions to one real, but still impressive.
This was the perfect live ad for a martial arts crash course. The other players gaped, then chorused, “Coach, I want to learn!”
Linghu Xiao laughed maniacally three times, thrilled to have mastered even one technique. In his mind, he already envisioned himself, a mere pond fish in the jianghu, dominating the martial world one day.
He, Linghu Xiao, would become the beta’s top expert!
Unable to contain himself, he practiced two more times before reluctantly withdrawing his palms. A crowd had gathered.
Lan Cangfeng had been right earlier—the Pushing Heart Palm wasn’t rare in the jianghu, just middling first-rate, normally purple rarity. Ruan Xuezong’s revisions elevated it to gold.
In his previous life, imprisoned in the dank Ten Thousand Kills Pavilion, only Qi Hongxin had visited him. That stoic bladesman, bound by “that man’s” orders restricting his freedom, had no intent to kill him. Instead, fearing he might lose the will to live, Qi Hongxin scoured the land for peerless manuals to pass the time.
Bored, Ruan Xuezong pored over them, etching their secrets into memory.
Reborn with heightened insight, he spotted flaws in the Pushing Heart Palm and refined it: from twenty-eight forms, streamlined to ten pure essences. Immensely powerful, it countered flashy techniques effortlessly.
Even the system rated it gold, practically glowing to announce its supreme status.
The Jianghu game’s rarity tiers ran gold, purple, blue, green, with white the lowest. Ruan Xuezong’s version had upgraded mid-process from purple to gold.
Players would never know.
Meanwhile, the contribution vault held another golden tome: the Cleansing Dusty Heart manual. Players eyed it hungrily.
Its notes called it Heart Washing Manor’s internal art—players got that. Martial skills mattered, but internal arts were crucial too.
Internal cultivation boosted stamina and inner force, tempered the body—like refining impurities in cultivation novels, extending one’s vital breath.
A top-tier martial art without matching internals was like thin paper: punctured easily, dissolving in water.
Who wanted to roam the jianghu as a flower vase?
Linghu Xiao’s face fell.
The Cleansing Dusty Heart cost 5,000 points too. He’d need seven or eight days of dailies to grind it out.
Those included chopping veggies and washing dishes for Chef Shao, foraging ingredients on the Back Mountain, feeding horses in the stables, serving tea to the Young Master, repairing houses and pavilions, and more.
Still short.
His thoughts echoed the masses’. They’d figured themselves hardcore grinders—until now, realizing their poverty, like items piled in a cart with no cash for checkout.
“Can’t afford this yet. Let’s see others!” Linghu Xiao forced his gaze away.
The vault held little else: just a purple lightness skill, Flowing Moon Remnant Fragrance, at 3,000 points. Its plain notes read merely “lightness skill.”
That simplicity drew eyes.
“Why’s the lightness skill intro just four words? So unique!”
Clicking the demonstration, they saw Ruan Xuezong as instructor again. In the video, he said, “This lightness skill is my creation—nothing special. Learn if you wish.”
He demonstrated three segments.
First: Flat Ground Lightness Skill, from his debut when players first visited the manor. With agile grace, he dashed across flat earth, bounding onto green-tiled eaves—as if teaching eaves-running and wall-walking.
After seconds of flair, he descended. As viewers expected a light toe-touch landing, he halted gracefully on a peach branch.
The bough dipped, then rebounded, as if he weighed nothing. Amid blooming peach glory stood the breezy white-clad figure.
“Holy shit—peaches are light, but how’s he standing?” Players gawked, mouths agape in shock.
“Lightness skill at this level? I’m a noob—don’t troll me!”
Second: Water Drifting. Jiangnan’s watery cityscape brimmed with rivers and lakes; lotuses yet to bloom left lily pads afloat. Ruan Xuezong skimmed the lake surface, ripples like dragonfly kisses, koi undisturbed below.
Finally, he slowed to a stroll.
The idyllic backdrop and ethereal water-strider evoked legends of “treading waves in silken steps.” His leisurely gait mesmerized the players.
“I’m on my knees—that’s a god!”
Third: Ascending Heights, grander still.
Against a mountainside stone Buddha statue, sixty or seventy meters tall, nearly one with the cliff.
The Buddha’s slender brows and long eyes were serenely half-closed, expression dignified and solemn. Towering above, it seemed to overlook mortal masses; even the white-clad speck below was insignificant. The contrast inspired awe.
After a respectful bow to the statue, the white-clad man leaped—nimble, multi-stage jumps flowing effortlessly, like blooming lotuses or invisible stairs propelling him higher.
A final kick launched him in a dive to the summit.
The scene closed with Ruan Xuezong beneath a mountaintop pine, robes flapping wildly. Behind the Bronze Mask, his star-like eyes surveyed the bustling crowds below. His bearing evoked the Buddha’s compassion—or perhaps greater arrogance and detachment.
The video ended. Players’ hearts surged; screams erupted.
“Aaaah! I declare Ruan Xuezong my husband from now on! So what if he’s disfigured—I love the ruined face!”
“Hah, your husband? Eat my palm, rival!”
“Everyone chill—Ruan Xuezong’s everyone’s husband, okay? Lightness skill’s just 3,000—what’re we waiting for, fam? Strength fades; handsomeness lasts forever!”
Led by that booming voice, penny-pinching players who’d hoarded points like secret stashes suddenly turned generous.
The vault bustled like a Black Friday sale. Players dashed back from afar yelling, “Lightness skill! Lightness skill!”
They snapped up what they could, no hesitation.
Heart Washing Manor’s vault was sparse, but two golds and a purple soon drained wallets dry.
Ruan Xuezong’s teaching videos, screen-recorded and forum-posted by players, exploded online. Forum traffic soared; the Jianghu game’s hype crested higher.
New to martial and lightness skills, players were hooked.
…
Shen Qionghua was a retainer of Heart Washing Manor. He had studied medicine there for decades, earning fame in the jianghu. Patients he’d cured praised him as a living miracle doctor, spreading his renown.
Ruan Xuezong’s frail, toxin-ridden body from birth was his doing—daily herbal diets and prescriptions all from his hand. Deeply attached to the manor through its ups and downs, he had never left.
With the game system’s arrival turning Heart Washing Manor into a spawn point, he inexplicably shifted from retired healer to newbie village medic NPC.
From idle retirement, he now issued quests and treated bizarre players daily.
“Doctor Shen, give me some tasks quick! My kid’s starving!” A player hugged his leg, bawling.
Shen Qionghua hesitated. “Then gather the herbs I hung out to dry this morning.”
【Ding! Triggered: “Help Miracle Doctor Shen Qionghua Gather Herbs.”】 The player beamed and bolted.
Seeing this, another rushed over, fanning him. “What about me, Doctor Shen?”
Shen Qionghua pondered. “Grind those gathered herbs into powder for me. I’ll brew them into medicine.”
【Ding! Triggered: “Grind Herbs into Powder.”】
The player cackled thrice and grabbed pestle and mortar.
Chaos ensued as a dozen players swarmed. “Me next, Doctor Shen?” “Please, I need quests!” “Look at me, Doctor Shen—I can sweep, wash, massage, anything! I’ll learn what I don’t know!”
“But I truly have no more tasks,” Shen Qionghua said, dazed from the shaking. Worse was to come.
Morning had been fine, but afternoon brought a flood of patients: groups carrying groaning comrades on stretchers.
“Doctor Shen, check him fast! It’s dire!”
“Yeah, poor guy’s down to like twenty thousand days left!”
So grave—Shen Qionghua hurried over, solemnly taking the pulse. “This young man has three fractures, seven breaks. Fortunately, minimal displacement—not severe. Rest a spell.”
Sinews and bones took a hundred days; he readied a prescription.
The patient grabbed him, pleading. “Doctor Shen, no treatment. Got any poison pills that make you bleed like crazy? One for me.”
“?”
Doctor Shen had never heard such a request. This youth—was he giving up?
“Hahaha, thick-blooded noob. Fell into a cripple debuff—needs blood loss to recover HP.” “Blame Zongzong—players fighting drops favorability.”
Shen Qionghua caught none of it, only their glee: “C’mon, cliff dive.” “Yep, together—you jump, I jump. Not done playing!”
Shen Qionghua: “???”
These new manor youths had the strangest style.
