Chapter 3: Eight Years is Too Long

Zhenwu Mountain.

It stood like a sharp sword piercing the clouds, precipitous and magnificent. It was originally called Divine Sword Mountain, but ever since Daoist Longshan won the mountain in a wager against the master of Divine Sword Mountain, he rebuilt the Zhenwu Sect here.

Slowly, the mountain became known as Zhenwu Mountain.

In the Great Yan Empire’s thirteen provinces, Zhenwu Mountain was located at the border of Qingzhou and Yunzhou. Daoist Longshan carried Ning Qi, stopping from time to time to beg for food for him, so their pace was not fast.

At the foot of the mountain.

Daoist Longshan breathed a sigh of relief; it was good to be on his own turf.

Along the way, he had worried about being intercepted and killed. Now that he thought about it, the mastermind likely assumed Ning Qi had perished in the sea of flames, unaware that such a survivor had been left behind at Snow Plum Villa.

This made him even more determined not to reveal Ning Qi’s identity for the time being, lest he bring danger upon the child.

Ning Qi curiously sized up the Zhenwu Mountain before him.

During this time following Daoist Longshan, he had seen a bit of the local customs and, through these scattered bits of information, had gained a certain understanding of the world he had transmigrated into.

This world was similar to the feudal society of his previous life, with the ruling dynasty known as Great Yan. However, unlike the ancient times of his past life, this world possessed powerful beings known as martial artists, and the martial spirit was flourishing.

Martial artists.

Those who pursued the martial path possessed combat power and lifespans far exceeding those of ordinary people.

The low-level ones could easily split stone tablets and tear apart tigers and leopards with their bare hands; the high-level ones could even cut rivers and intercept currents with a hundred-foot sword aura.

His master, Daoist Longshan, belonged to the latter, and held a considerable reputation throughout the world.

While this made Ning Qi secretly click his tongue in wonder, it also brought him some relief. Although his start as an orphan hadn't been smooth, he had at least apprenticed under a decent master.

At this moment.

Several Daoists with powerful auras and agile figures had already come to greet them. There were young men and teenagers among them, including one female Daoist. When they saw Daoist Longshan, they were all excited and bowed respectfully

"Greetings, Master!"

Daoist Longshan nodded slightly.

These were the eight disciples he had taken in previously. Their natural talents were all extraordinary, and he placed high hopes on them, wishing that one day they could revitalize the Zhenwu Sect.

"Wentian, has everything been well in the sect lately?"

Daoist Longshan looked at the honest-looking young man at the front. This was his eldest disciple, Luo Wentian.

Luo Wentian replied respectfully

"Reporting to Master, the disciples' lessons have proceeded as usual, and all the junior brothers and sisters are practicing diligently."

The entire Zhenwu Sect.

There were hundreds of disciples.

They were divided into outer sect disciples, inner sect disciples, and the eight personal disciples including Luo Wentian.

Daoist Longshan smiled with satisfaction

"Diligence is naturally good, but one must also balance work and rest."

"We will take your teachings to heart, Master. Did everything go smoothly on your trip to Snow Plum Villa?"

Curiosity appeared in the eyes of several disciples—not about Daoist Longshan's whereabouts, but about the infant he was holding. In particular, the only female Daoist, Ye Qinghe, and the youngest teenage Daoist, Qin Yun, had already begun to make faces at Ning Qi, trying to tease him.

However, Ning Qi simply rolled his eyes and ignored them.

He wasn't actually an infant who understood nothing.

This only made the two of them even more surprised, and they couldn't help but smile.

Daoist Longshan didn't keep them in suspense. He didn't mention what had happened at Snow Plum Villa, but simply smiled

"This infant is named Ning Qi. From now on, he is your Ninth Junior Brother."

Hearing this.

Everyone’s eyes were filled with astonishment.

After all, since their master founded the sect, he had rarely taken in personal disciples directly. The seven disciples, including Luo Wentian, had all risen from the ranks of outer sect disciples step by step before finally being named personal disciples by Daoist Longshan.

Qin Yun, who had joined ten years ago, was the only exception; he had been a personal disciple from the moment he entered. But Qin Yun’s talent was so peerless that Daoist Longshan called it "heavenly-born aptitude," and he even had a glimmer of hope of stepping into the Martial Saint realm.

Yet, they hadn't expected that after ten years, their master would take in another disciple, and it was just a small infant.

Moreover, they all knew that the ninth disciple held special significance for the Zhenwu Sect.

Could it be that this little infant also possessed peerless talent?

Everyone offered their congratulations

"We congratulate Master on finding such a fine disciple!"

Daoist Longshan only smiled.

Qin Yun couldn't wait to take Ning Qi from Ye Qinghe’s arms. He grinned and teased Ning Qi’s cheeks with his finger, his affection evident. He had always been the youngest, but now, there was finally someone younger than him.

Qin Yun’s voice was cheerful and brimming with spirit

"After ten years, Master has taken another disciple. The Nine Sons of Zhenwu are finally complete!"

"Give our Little Junior Brother eighteen years, and in the future, the Nine Sons of Zhenwu will shake the Great Yan together and restore the Zhenwu Sect to its former glory!"

Everyone laughed heartily.

There was longing in their eyes.

Daoist Longshan felt the same.

The Nine Sons of Zhenwu.

It was a concept he had spoken of after obtaining the Zhenwu inheritance, and it was inextricably linked to the legacy within.

The Zhenwu inheritance stated that if the Nine Sons of Zhenwu were nine "Heavenly Humans," they could rival a Martial Saint.

Because of this.

The Zhenwu Sect of the past might not have had a Martial Saint in every generation, but they never feared a Martial Saint in any generation.

It was considered to be at its peak.

It was only later that some unknown catastrophe occurred, causing it to disappear completely into the long river of history.

For all these years, he hadn't taken a final disciple. He hadn't expected that by a stroke of fate, he would meet Ning Qi. It could be considered heaven's will.

"The Nine Sons of Zhenwu, huh?"

Listening to those heartfelt peals of laughter, Ning Qi felt infected and couldn't help but smile.

These senior brothers and sisters of his seemed quite good.

He felt a tiny bit of anticipation for his life on Zhenwu Mountain from here on out.

...

In fact.

Ning Qi’s senior brothers and sisters were indeed very good.

Perhaps because Ning Qi was the youngest and the final ninth disciple, the many senior brothers and sisters were exceptionally doting toward him. Especially the Third Senior Sister, Ye Qinghe, and the Eighth Senior Brother, Qin Yun, who would run over to play with Ning Qi every other day.

Ning Qi also went from his initial resistance to slowly accepting it.

In the blink of an eye, half a year had passed.

He had completely integrated into the Zhenwu Sect.

During these six months.

Ning Qi had also revealed his extraordinary nature. Perhaps due to the dense innate energy within his body, his growth and development were far faster than that of an average infant.

With his max-level comprehension, he learned everything extremely quickly.

Learning to read and write was the most basic of tasks.

At only half a year old, he could already walk steadily on his own and communicate clearly with everyone. This surprised everyone immensely; they all called Ning Qi a prodigy and looked forward to his performance in the martial arts once his bones and constitution were fully formed.

But this was only what he revealed to them. In reality, Ning Qi was far more exaggerated than they imagined.

Because his body had not yet fully developed, he could not touch the martial path for the time being.

After learning the characters of this world, Ning Qi buried himself in the miscellaneous classics of the Zhenwu Sect.

Astronomy, Feng Shui, Qimen Dunjia, medicine...

Anything he could learn at the moment, he basically didn't miss.

To a certain extent, this was also laying the foundation for his future martial path.

With max-level comprehension, Ning Qi didn't have to worry about biting off more than he could chew. Through self-study alone, he had already reached an extremely profound realm in various fields.

Daoist Longshan and the others only thought Ning Qi was flipping through books out of a child's curiosity, never knowing what level Ning Qi had actually reached.

Take medicine, for example.

Ning Qi could already be called a divine doctor of his generation.

Based on the theoretical foundations of the various medical classics, he had created his own unique "Ning Family Medical Manual." He had even invented exquisite acupuncture techniques such as the "Suspended Needle Method," "Golden Needle Crossing the Acupoints," and the "Thirteen Needles of the Ghost Gate." He was only limited by the fact that he hadn't touched the martial path yet, meaning some techniques couldn't be executed; otherwise, he would have reached an even higher level.

However, even so.

Ning Qi had many concepts in mind, just waiting for his strength to be sufficient in the future, at which point he could achieve everything in one go.

Recently.

After his body grew to the point where he could walk steadily, Ning Qi had been thinking about one question.

That was.

How could he accelerate the formation of his bones and constitution to touch the martial path sooner?

According to his senior brothers, the vast majority of people’s bones and constitution only fully formed at the age of eight. Only a very small number of people with unique physiques could potentially do so earlier.

He felt that waiting until he was eight was too long.

(End of chapter)