0011 Imparting the Dharma

Jiang Mingzhe, while never forgetting to offer flattering praise, remained intensely focused, as if he were attentively noting down a client's requirements, carefully committing every word Ding Chunqiu uttered to memory. Fortunately, as a visitor from the modern era, tempered by over a decade of rigorous examination-oriented education and baptized by the overwhelming deluge of information, Jiang Mingzhe’s capacity for learning and comprehension far exceeded the vast majority of people in this age. In Ding Chunqiu’s estimation, he possessed "exceptional aptitude."

Ding Chunqiu continued to elaborate on the martial philosophy of the Starry Constellation School: "The essence of martial arts lies in these three things: 'Internal Power, Techniques, and Poison.' Internal power is the foundation, while techniques are the branches and leaves. If the foundation is solid, the branches and leaves will naturally flourish. For instance, if you possessed internal strength as profound as mine, even a casual punch or kick would carry immense power. However, the practice of internal power values persistence..."

He extended his left hand, curling his thumb and little finger tightly against his palm, while the middle three fingers were hooked and slightly flexed. He performed a light, grasping motion; there was nothing particularly swift or fierce about it, yet a sharp, explosive crack echoed through the air.

Jiang Mingzhe looked on with unconcealed envy. Ding Chunqiu smugly remarked, "This claw strike carries over sixty years of internal power. Who could possibly withstand it? But for a novice like you, without this formidable power, do you think an enemy would simply wait for you to train for decades?"

As he spoke, his left hand performed a series of uncanny movements—coiling, winding, flicking, and pecking. It was clearly a human arm, yet in motion, it resembled a living, breathing, giant centipede, radiating a sinister and malevolent aura.

"Once techniques are refined to perfection, they can compensate for a lack of internal power. What are techniques? 'Technique' is method, 'variety' is change. Method is the means to protect oneself and repel enemies; change is the ability to adapt to circumstances. Method should not be rigid; with change, there is flow. Change should not be chaotic; with method, there is a path to follow. How does one master these? One word: Practice! Diligent practice, ruthless practice, practice until you are half-dead. Inscribe the techniques into your flesh and bones until they become instinct. How does one master adaptability? One word: Insight! Grasp the purpose behind the creation of techniques, perceive the spirit of survival in all things, and understand the ultimate truths of the heavens and earth, the changing of seasons, and the interaction of yin and yang."

Ding Chunqiu spoke with eloquence and ease, while Jiang Mingzhe nodded repeatedly, a sense of fulfillment blooming within him, as if he had finally grasped the "Way" he would be content to die for at dusk.

In his childhood, his family was poor, and he matured early, always striving to work hard so his family could live well. He had "rolled" through his studies in school and "rolled" through his career after graduation, every step taken with heavy but steady determination. Yet, deep in his heart, how could there not have been youthful fantasies? Fantasies of becoming a great chivalrous hero, possessing superhuman strength, and effortlessly claiming glorious laurels. However, he never wallowed in these fantasies. He would occasionally indulge in daydreams as a mental spa for his weary, ordinary life, and then immediately pull himself together to continue grinding away at his studies or work.

Until this very moment, listening to Ding Chunqiu expound on the ultimate truths of martial arts and watching him casually display techniques of unimaginable ferocity, the hot-blooded ambition buried deep in Jiang Mingzhe's marrow finally erupted. He longed to immediately master a skill that would make him invincible under heaven.

Ding Chunqiu sensed Jiang Mingzhe’s total immersion and was highly satisfied, teaching with even greater vigor.

"If your techniques reach their peak, and you hold a sharp weapon, you could defeat enemies even without internal power. This is to say, whether your internal power is profound or your techniques are exquisite, both can allow you to roam the world with ease. But is that enough? Naturally, it is not. If your internal power is high, what if you meet someone higher? If your techniques are refined, what if you meet someone more refined? And what if you encounter someone whose internal power is high and whose techniques are exquisite?"

He threw out several questions in succession and answered them himself: "If it were any ordinary sect, they would surely be at their wit's end, forced only to practice harder. But since I have founded my own sect, how could I be like those fools? Therefore, the 'Poison' I propose serves a great purpose. Disciple, look at that venomous snake; though small, it can slaughter a giant elephant. Centipedes and spiders are so inconspicuous, yet even lions and tigers must avoid their edge. This is the power of poison!"

As he spoke, Ding Chunqiu moved his left hand. A faint green light glimmered at the tips of his three hooked fingers. With a soft, swift grasp, Jiang Mingzhe immediately caught a whiff of a fishy stench. He felt a wave of nausea and dizziness, and his feet stumbled unsteadily.

Ding Chunqiu chuckled, and with a wave of his feather fan, an indescribable, strange fragrance filled the air. Jiang Mingzhe took a breath and felt instantly refreshed, his mind clear as if washed by spring water. All discomfort vanished. He could not help but sincerely praise, "The divine art created by Master is truly miraculous!"

Ding Chunqiu laughed, smugly saying, "The word 'poison' encompasses all things. If used well, it can kill enemies, defend oneself, prolong life, and even increase internal power! I have researched this for decades and feel I have only just glimpsed the threshold. If you can learn even a fraction of it, it will be enough to serve you for a lifetime."

Jiang Mingzhe thought to himself that this concept of poison was no longer just poison; it contained the efficacy of medicine. Traditional Chinese medicine says that every medicine is three parts poison, but Ding Chunqiu had taken a unique approach, arguably creating the principle that "every poison is three parts medicine." For a moment, he felt a genuine, heartfelt admiration for Ding Chunqiu’s technical development capabilities.

He praised him sincerely: "It is not because I am a disciple of the Starry Constellation School that I say this. If one speaks of the path of martial arts, perhaps only Bodhidharma could stand shoulder to shoulder with Master. But in the path of poisonous martial arts, only Master can be called a peerless grandmaster, unprecedented and glorious through the ages."

Ding Chunqiu was delighted, shaking his head and swaying, "A peerless grandmaster? Hmm, that is not an overstatement..."

He nodded repeatedly: "This mouth of yours—I fear it is not smeared with honey, but with honeyed wine; otherwise, how could your words be so intoxicating? Hahaha! Disciple, let me ask you: is using poison to harm others despicable and low?"

"Of course not!" Jiang Mingzhe’s eyes widened, his expression indignant. "How could Master have such a thought? Some use blades to kill, some use hidden weapons to kill; we use poison to kill. It is all killing, so why distinguish between high and low? If one must distinguish, I would say that killing many, and killing quickly, that is what is truly brilliant."

"Good, marvelous!" Ding Chunqiu threw his head back and laughed, pointing at Jiang Mingzhe. "Worthy of being a disciple from the Land of Sages. You are young, yet this insight of yours surpasses countless mediocre people in the world. This master chose well in taking you as a disciple."

He had previously joked that Jiang Mingzhe was a kindred spirit, but now he truly felt that Jiang Mingzhe was indeed one. In a burst of excitement, he reached into his robe and pulled out a small silk-wrapped bundle. "This is for you. Do not tell anyone else, not even A'zi. You may copy it once and then return it to me."

Jiang Mingzhe accepted it hurriedly. Seeing Ding Chunqiu gesture for him to open it, he unwrapped the bundle to find another booklet. Its texture was neither paper nor silk; even with Jiang Mingzhe’s knowledge from the future, he could not identify the material. The cover was plain and unadorned, with a few words written in the upper right corner: *Secret Record of the Starry Constellation Immortal's Poison Craft.*

He gasped in astonishment, "Ah, Master, is... is this not too precious?"

His heart was wild with joy. He thought that this was exactly what he wanted. He had expected to wait a while before learning poison techniques, but unexpectedly, Ding Chunqiu was so pleased that he had passed down the secret manual immediately. This "Old Freak Ding" was truly worth associating with!

Ding Chunqiu wore the satisfied expression of someone who had just bestowed a king's ransom. He waved his sleeve, "No matter how earth-shattering an art is, if there is no one to inherit it, it will eventually fade into obscurity. Your aptitude is extraordinary. If you can walk further on the path of poison than I have, I shall be truly gratified."

Though his words were magnanimous, he was secretly proud, thinking to himself: *This secret record has two volumes. The first volume was written fifteen years ago; while it is a rare treasure, without the second volume I wrote recently, even a genius could at best only gain breadth without depth. Heh heh, this child has vision and a breadth of mind far exceeding others, and his mind turns quickly. If he masters the first volume, he might derive some new ideas in the finer details, which would serve as perfect inspiration for me. How wonderful!*

The more he thought about it, the happier he became. He laughed, "Keep this secret record well. I have already outlined the principles of our sect; now, I shall teach you the techniques of the Three-Yin Centipede Claw."

With that, he stood up, tucked his feather fan into the back of his waistband, extended three fingers on each hand, bent his knees, arched his waist, and assumed his stance.