Cultivation: I Can Traverse Otherworlds

Chapter 232: Chapter 213: The Third Otherworld

The Yunjing Commerce Association had arranged an Array for the residence of every Dao Foundation Cultivator and had handed over control of it.

This was a sign of respect for the Dao Foundation Cultivators.

Within the Array, not even the Yunjing Commerce Association could see what the person inside was doing.

The Array was called the Illusory Flood Dragon Array!

Zhu Ju gripped the Array Plate. As he channeled his True Essence Magical Power into it, a thick fog immediately rose in the courtyard. The mist condensed mid-air, forming a lifelike Flood Dragon that coiled in the sky.

This was a Tier One Low Grade Array.

It could distort perception and block detection. Its defensive and offensive capabilities were better than nothing, but it wasn’t easy to sneak through undetected.

After a brief test, Zhu Ju put down the Array Plate, settled onto a cushion in the Quiet Chamber, and his figure silently vanished.

The third Otherworld.

’Here I come!’

......

The Qii Kingdom.

Quguan County, Fenyang Prefecture.

Inside a Martial Arts Hall.

"HUP!"

"HAH!"

"..."

Dozens of Martial Arts Hall disciples, bare to the waist, shed sweat under the scorching sun, their fists and feet moving as they tempered their skin and flesh.

Each one was powerfully built with tight muscles, a clear sign that their Pile Skill had reached a certain level of mastery.

"Their Qi Blood is abundant, and their skin is tough."

"Master Zhang is truly worthy of being Quguan County’s number one Martial Artist. His skill in teaching disciples alone is admirable."

A person spoke in admiration from a nearby pavilion.

At this moment, the sun was at its peak. The earth steamed, heat rose in shimmering waves, and even the packed ground seemed to curl slightly.

The qi from the earth and the heat from the martial artists’ bodies merged, forming the shapes of tigers and leopards—a truly wondrous sight.

Tiger and Leopard Body Forging!

This was the Method the Martial Arts Hall taught its disciples. It could temper the Physical Body, strengthen Qi Blood, and allow one to become an Entering the Realm Martial Artist.

The speaker was a middle-aged man. His long hair was tied up in a Daoist bun with a wooden pin, and he wore a Daoist Robe and Yin Yang Shoes.

It was none other than Zhu Ju, dressed as a Daoist.

He had entered this world many times, familiarizing himself with its language and writing, and was now formally trying to integrate himself into it.

His first stop.

Was this very Quguan County.

He interacted with the townspeople as a wandering Daoist, using his Divine Soul Techniques to easily win their trust.

By revealing just a few of his abilities, he became an honored guest of the rich and powerful.

"Haha..." Master Zhang laughed heartily upon hearing this.

"It’s not that I’m boasting, but half of the martial artists who have made a name for themselves out of Quguan County in the last twenty years have studied here at my Martial Arts Hall."

"Gong Shi, the Third-Grade Innate Martial Master from the Divine Capital Anle Workshop, is my student!"

"A Third-Grade Innate." Zhu Ju said in admiration.

"Impressive!"

The Martial Arts of this world were somewhat similar to the Qi Blood World he had visited before, focusing on strengthening Qi Blood and tempering the Physical Body. However, the levels of cultivation and power were worlds apart.

From what he had learned during this time, the Martial Arts realms in this world were divided into nine grades.

First Grade was the highest, also known as Grandmaster.

The Lower Three Grades were collectively called Martial Artists, and most of the Martial Arts Hall disciples were at this level.

The Middle Third Grade were composed of Martial Artists.

Master Zhang, for instance, was a Fifth-Grade Entering the Realm Martial Artist. His Physical Body was formidable; he could tear a tiger or leopard apart with his bare hands, shatter bluestone with a palm strike, and leap several dozen feet in a single bound.

In the Qi Blood World, he would have been a top expert in the land. But in this world, he was merely the master of a Martial Arts Hall in a small town—the kind of minor character who’s just part of the background in storybooks.

The Upper Three Grades had different titles.

Third-Grade Innate Martial Master, Second-Grade Martial Sect, and First-Grade Grandmaster.

Zhu Ju had yet to witness the true strength of an Upper Three Grades expert, but extrapolating from Master Zhang’s power, he guessed the upper limit of this world’s Martial Arts couldn’t be too high.

A Grandmaster,

should still be no match for a Dao Foundation Cultivator.

This was a guess he had formed after some time in contact with this world’s Martial Artists. Of course, the people he had met so far were of low Cultivation, so he couldn’t be certain.

’Attaining personal achievement only benefits one person, but cultivating disciples allows everyone to become a dragon.’ The thought crossed his mind, but Zhu Ju’s expression remained unchanged as he cupped his hands and spoke:

"Master Zhang, you teach your disciples without holding back and don’t mind if they surpass you. Such magnanimity is truly admirable."

"Haha..." Master Zhang’s laughter was hearty.

"Daoist, you truly are a kindred spirit."

"Back in the day, I traveled everywhere seeking a master, only to be repeatedly rejected. From that day on, I swore that when I took students, I would never hold anything back. I only wish for everyone to be able to achieve something with their studies."

"Unfortunately!"

His face filled with regret.

"My talent is limited, and I’ve wasted my years. My Cultivation has stalled at the Fifth Grade for my entire life. I was never able to obtain a method for the Upper Three Grades, so I can only place my hopes in the next generation."

"The Upper Three Grades?" Zhu Ju looked thoughtful.

"I have traveled all the way from the Southern Border, yet I have met very few Upper Three Grades experts. Nor are there any legacies of them in circulation among the common folk."

"Indeed." Master Zhang nodded.

"The Upper Three Grades mostly emerge from the Aristocratic Families, the Major Sects of the Martial World, or from the Imperial Court and the Military. They are rarely seen in ordinary places."

"My student only became a Third Grade by a stroke of luck, finding a famous master. It’s because the Aristocratic Families control the legacies of the Upper Three Grades, leaving no hope for disciples from humble backgrounds to ever reach them."

He shook his head repeatedly, his face full of regret.

"Hanging around my Martial Arts Hall, the best one can hope for is to become a Middle Grade Martial Artist. Don’t even think about the Upper Three Grades."

The Third Grade,

was the threshold to the apex of Martial Arts.

And the legacies, Secret Medicines, and even top-tier Martial Skills had always been monopolized by the rich and powerful, making them inaccessible to ordinary people.

By the time one was qualified to access them, they were already part of the powerful elite and would, in turn, guard these secrets jealously.

’So...’

’If I want to truly understand this world’s Martial Arts, it’s impossible to do so in a small town. I have to venture out.’

As if sensing something, Zhu Ju looked outside.

"BANG..."

Just then, the main gate of the Martial Arts Hall was violently thrown open. A middle-aged man dressed as a steward rushed in, gasping for breath as he spoke:

"Is Daoist Ziju here?"

"Daoist!"

Seeing Zhu Ju, the steward’s eyes lit up.

"Quick!"

"Come with me, quickly! A person of importance has been struck by a sudden, vicious illness! The town’s physicians can do nothing. Please, Daoist, you must help."

"Oh?" Zhu Ju’s eyes flickered.

He recognized the newcomer. It was the steward of the Quguan County Magistrate, a man who, in this small town, was second to one and superior to all others.

For him to be in such a panicked rush for help, the patient’s identity must be extraordinary.

Could it be?

The group that arrived two days ago?

*

*

*

"Aunt Mong!"

On the bed, a child of about eight or nine lay with a deathly pale face, his forehead beaded with sweat. He trembled uncontrollably, his expression a mask of pain.

"It hurts!"

"It hurts so much!"

"Sob..."

The child, usually as exquisite as carved jade, now seemed like a Jade Artifact about to shatter, his life force steadily fading.

He whimpered weakly, his cries of pain growing fainter.

"Shhh, there now." Aunt Mong sat by the bed, gripping the child’s small hand as tears welled in her eyes. She comforted him in a low voice,

"Young Lord, someone has already gone to fetch a physician. You’ll be fine, you’ll definitely be fine."

"Once the physician arrives, the pain will go away soon."

Looking at the child’s current state, her lips trembled, and her heart felt as if it were about to shatter. Though she continued to offer words of comfort, she was already filled with despair.

’How could there be any famous doctors in this backwater place?’

’Our own physician was helpless. What could the doctors here possibly do?’

Nearly every physician in the county had come, and they all shook their heads and sighed upon seeing the Heir’s condition. Even the Elixirs from Lingyin Temple had no effect. Was there truly no hope?

’If the Heir were to...’

’How could I face the late Princess Consort in the underworld?’

’No!’

’The Heir will be fine.’

"PFT!"

Overcome with anxiety, her Qi Blood surged to her heart. Aunt Mong couldn’t bear it and spat out a mouthful of blood, her spirit instantly wilting.

"Aunt Mong!"

"Miss Mong!"

"..."

Seeing this, the faces of everyone in the room changed drastically.

"Silence!" Aunt Mong bit her Silver Fang, stopping the others’ shouts.

"All non-essential personnel, get out!"

"Don’t disturb the Heir."

"...Yes." The crowd’s expressions shifted. They lowered their heads and quietly exited the room, not daring to make a sound with their footsteps.

"He’s here!"

The magistrate’s steward hurried over, drenched in sweat, and said:

"This Daoist ’Ziju’ is a wondrous man who wandered here. He has the ability to bring the dead back to life and grow flesh on white bones."

"A few days ago, someone in the county choked on a bone and had already stopped breathing, but the Daoist saved him."

"The Daoist said he lives in Kunlun..."

"Enough." Aunt Mong cut off his introduction. Her gaze paused on Zhu Ju for a moment, and a sliver of hope rose in her heart.

’What a remarkable bearing!’

’A Daoist like this can’t just be for show.’ She then spoke in a solemn voice:

"Daoist, please examine and treat my Young Lord."

"The Heir?" Zhu Ju gently flicked his Duster. He slowly approached the bed, carefully observing the color of the child’s face.

He asked in an unhurried tone:

"The Heir of where?"

"The Heir of Marquis Zhenyuan," a burly man in the room said in a low voice.

"Daoist, you’d better take a close look."

"If you can cure the Heir, there will be a great reward. But if you dare to use the wrong medicine, we will not spare you."

Zhu Ju raised an eyebrow.

"Shut up!" Aunt Mong’s expression darkened. She said slowly,

"Daoist, pay him no mind. Just focus on the diagnosis and treatment. Even if... even if you are unable to help, you will not be blamed."

"Very well." Zhu Ju bent down, using his hand to check the child’s eyelids and the corners of his mouth, a thoughtful look on his face.

"There is a sickness in the Vital Organs. He must have eaten something unclean."

He straightened up and said slowly,

"This sudden onset seems very dangerous, but once he gets through it, it’ll be nothing. It’s not a serious illness."

"Really?" Aunt Mong looked skeptical.

If it were just a minor illness, how could it have tormented the Heir to this state? And why would their own physicians and Spiritual Elixirs and Medicines be completely useless?

The others in the room also had expressions of disbelief.

"It is true." Zhu Ju took an acupuncture pouch from his person, removed a long, slender Golden Needle, and made a measuring gesture with it.

"Please have everyone else leave. The patient needs a quiet environment. One person remaining to watch over him is enough."

"...Alright." Although her heart was pounding with uncertainty, his relaxed expression didn’t seem fake.

Aunt Mong nodded, waving her sleeve for the others to withdraw, and remained by his side alone.

"SWISH!"

Zhu Ju flicked his hand, and the Golden Needle pierced the child’s body.

’Hm?’

Aunt Mong’s expression changed slightly.

’I actually couldn’t see his needling technique clearly just now. If we were in close quarters and he launched a surprise attack...’

"SWISH!"

"SWISH! SWISH!"

Zhu Ju’s wrist trembled. One Golden Needle after another precisely pierced the child’s vital acupoints, vibrating and rotating slightly as an imperceptible Strength penetrated toward the Vital Organs.

"Mmph!"

The child let out a muffled groan, and his tightly furrowed brow slowly relaxed. In the blink of an eye, his breathing steadied, and he had fallen asleep.

’It’s working!’

Aunt Mong’s face flooded with ecstatic joy.

"There."

Not long after.

Zhu Ju let out a long breath, pulled the Golden Needles out one by one, returned them to the acupuncture pouch, and turned to face Aunt Mong.

After a moment of thought, he spoke slowly,

"The Heir didn’t eat something unclean. He was poisoned—with a strange, slow-acting poison."

"What?" Aunt Mong’s expression changed, and she turned to shout,

"Guards..."

"Wait." Zhu Ju raised a hand.

"This poison was administered as early as half a year ago. It requires being ingested in small doses over a long period to avoid a rapid onset. Once it does take effect, it erupts like a volcano, ravaging the Qi Blood and killing the victim within a few hours."

"Therefore, the poisoner is not here."

’Half a year ago?’

’Administered in small doses over a long period?’

As if she had thought of something, Aunt Mong’s beautiful eyes narrowed, a vicious look appeared on her face, and her hands clenched into tight fists.

Taking a deep breath, Aunt Mong slowly nodded.

"Thank you for telling me this, Daoist. I am very grateful."

"I will have someone pay your consultation fee, but I hope you will keep this matter a secret and not tell anyone else."

"Of course," Zhu Ju said.

"However, there is no need for a consultation fee. My medical skills are decent, but I lack any ability to protect myself. I wonder if you, miss, could provide me with a Martial Arts legacy."

"One that can reach the Upper Three Grades is all I ask."

’Hm?’

Aunt Mong’s expression turned strange.

’The Upper Three Grades,’

’is all you ask?’

’Do you think a Martial Art that can reach the Upper Three Grades is some common cabbage you can buy at the market?’

"You have quite the appetite, Daoist." Staring deeply at Zhu Ju, Aunt Mong’s expression shifted several times.

"Legacies of the Upper Three Grades are no small matter. Most who cultivate them swear an oath not to pass them on. However, I do have one here. It was created by the founding ancestor of the Daqi."

"It is called the True Martial Scripture."

"This art not only allows one to reach the Upper Three Grades, but in theory, it can even allow one to open the Divine Treasure and transcend Martial Arts."

’True Martial Scripture?’

’Divine Treasure?’

’Transcend Martial Arts?’

Zhu Ju raised an eyebrow slightly.

’As expected.’

’The limit of this world’s Martial Arts is not the First-Grade Grandmaster. There are even higher realms above the First Grade. It’s just that the master of a Martial Arts Hall in a small town would have no access to such information.’

’It goes without saying that this True Martial Scripture she mentioned must have some sort of defect. Otherwise, she would never offer it as a consultation fee.’

But that didn’t matter to Zhu Ju.

He just wanted to understand this world’s Martial Arts and see if there was anything he could learn from it. He didn’t necessarily intend to practice it himself.

"Very well."

Nodding, Zhu Ju said,

"I’ll have to trouble you, then."