Chapter 5: Beginning Martial Training

At the master-disciple ceremony, formally apprenticed to the head Daoist Master, Qiu Zhiqing’s life remained unchanged. He was still himself—the little caretaker of the Scripture Pavilion.

Zhao Zhijing, three years his senior, feared that the Master’s acceptance of new disciples would threaten his position as the foremost among three generations of disciples. Yet he found Qiu Zhiqing still the same frail boy, tending to the empty Scripture Pavilion, rarely joining the senior brothers in martial training.

“Hmph! No practice in martial arts—how could he possibly threaten my status? Advantage is mine!”

In truth, things were not as Zhao Zhijing perceived. Under the tutelage of Tan Chuduan and Hao Datong, Qiu Zhiqing was no slouch. Every day, Master Mayu personally gave him special guidance.

By the second year of discipleship—Jiading year seven of the Southern Song—Qiu Zhiqing’s tuberculosis had fully healed. It marked the tenth year since Qiu Zhiqing arrived in this world.

Truly, ten years of life and death apart, unthinkingly unforgettable… though perhaps something was amiss in that phrase. Never mind; forgive his lack of culture and ignorance of proper usage. What mattered was that in ten years, he had transformed himself from a consumptive infant into a delicate youth.

To be safe, Master Mayu conducted three additional months of examinations before finally announcing Qiu Zhiqing could begin martial training the following day.

Qiu Zhiqing was already aware that since February, the Western Xia had launched an offensive against the Jin dynasty, capturing Gongzhou and Jingzhou, and were now besieging Yan’an. Refugees flooded into Guanzhong, many escaping into the Zhongnan Mountains.

Though Master Mayu disliked mundane affairs, as head Daoist he had to personally manage internal resources. As a result, the time he could dedicate to instructing Qiu Zhiqing was greatly reduced.

Yet, upon hearing he could start training the next day, Qiu Zhiqing barely slept that night, lamenting his insufficient resolve. He had improved much over the years; when he first arrived in this world, unable to speak or play with a phone, his greatest joy was listening to discussions on metaphysics and Dao.

By a twist of fate, the Seven Sons of Quanzhen recognized him as having innate Dao nature. The six other older bachelors—five and a half, to be exact—embarked on a path of nurturing this child. It must be said, in the end, Sun Bu’er proved the most reliable.

The next day, now calm and composed, Qiu Zhiqing began his daily routine—likely the most regular days he’d had since joining Quanzhen.

He rose early as usual, practicing breathing exercises and the Five Animal Frolics as morning ritual, ate breakfast, then sat cross-legged in the open space before the Scripture Pavilion, circulating internal energy while awaiting Master Mayu’s arrival.

Soon, Master Mayu appeared, answering Qiu Zhiqing’s previous day’s questions before guiding him to practice his first martial art: horse stance.

Qiu Zhiqing was puzzled. In this world, masters all possessed profound internal energy, yet he was still starting with horse stance. This world had melodies that could break one’s heart, and friendships that could vanish to the horizon—yet still, horse stance was where he began.

Thus, Qiu Zhiqing embarked on his martial journey, continuing his studies in culture as well. But after some time, he sensed something amiss: Master Mayu was teaching him nearly all the Quanzhen martial arts.

Techniques like Golden Goose Skill, Quanzhen Swordplay, and Three Flowers Gathered Palm—all three could manipulate the internal warmth within the body.

Having never eaten pork, but having seen pigs run, Qiu Zhiqing sensed something was off. One day after training, gathering courage, he asked Master Mayu:

“Master, when I practice the sword and palm techniques you teach, I always feel the energy inside me becoming lively. Is this what they call internal energy?”

Master Mayu, prepared as usual to address Qiu Zhiqing’s questions on cultivation and medicine, was pleasantly surprised by this inquiry. His laughter rang out heartily.

It was autumn, and at his laughter, the last green leaves clinging to the branches grudgingly let go, swept away by the waiting autumn wind. Even the birds reluctantly flew south.

Having dealt mischief to the autumn woods of Zhongnan Mountain, Master Mayu finally said, “I thought you’d ask me that from the start. But no, you stubbornly studied external skills for three months before asking! Innate Dao nature—there’s a successor!”

Though Qiu Zhiqing didn’t quite grasp the meaning of “innate Dao nature” and “successor,” he accepted his master’s laughter as a good omen, confident the master’s cultivation was deep enough not to choke on laughter.

After calming down, Master Mayu asked, “Zhiqing, what do you think internal energy is?”

Qiu Zhiqing perked up, offering a brief summary of his years of cultivation and medical learning: “Refining essence into energy, extracting power from food, transporting and strengthening the body, seeking health and longevity…” His voice slowed and softened as he spoke.

Master Mayu smiled mischievously, “You see? What you have been cultivating these past five years is internal energy.”

He even playfully twitched his eyelids. Qiu Zhiqing was speechless—he hadn’t realized his breathing exercises were the authentic Quanzhen Heart Method. But then he realized something else was off.

“Master, didn’t you say I couldn’t practice martial arts? How come—”

Seeing the hurt and confusion in Qiu Zhiqing’s eyes, Master Mayu laughed again, shaking the leaves of the deciduous trees in Zhongnan Mountain.

“Master only said you couldn’t practice martial combat, never that you couldn’t cultivate the Dao! Haven’t I praised your Dao aptitude all along? I always say you have great Dao talent!”

Qiu Zhiqing finally understood why Master Mayu never called the breathing exercises martial arts, and why the Five Animal Frolics, though usable for fighting, were also not considered martial arts.

In Master Mayu’s view, cultivation was primarily for health and longevity, while martial arts emphasized combat and killing.

Thus, Qiu Zhiqing’s training in the Quanzhen Heart Method and Five Animal Frolics was cultivation, whereas the disciples’ bone-strengthening exercises and Master Mayu’s own martial arts practice were true martial arts.

“Oh, my dear Dao Master, couldn’t you have just said so directly? Why the long detour?” Still, Master Mayu’s teaching style was exemplary. He never rushed Qiu Zhiqing through all the formulas and incantations. Instead, he insisted on mastering the basics first.

Take swordplay for example: after Qiu Zhiqing solidified the foundational techniques, Master Mayu explained each of the forty-nine moves of the Quanzhen Swordplay, revealing their origins and the intended spirit. Then Qiu Zhiqing was encouraged to perform a sword stroke according to his own understanding.

This method emphasized form before spirit, form before spirit! Occasionally, Master Mayu demonstrated moves but never offered critiques, leaving Qiu Zhiqing feeling insecure, wondering if, as Elder Chen had said, he truly lacked martial talent.

In the afternoon, after finishing his studies, a sudden “coo-coo” outside the pavilion caught Qiu Zhiqing’s attention. Closing his notebook, he leapt down from the Scripture Pavilion and quickly vanished into the dense forest behind the mountain.

When he arrived, two boys and a girl were gathered around a campfire. The boys, about eleven or twelve years old, were Qiu Zhiqing’s former roommates: Fang Zhiqi and Liu Zhiyuan.

The little girl was Li Mochou, the third-generation senior sister of the Ancient Tomb Sect, only seven or eight years old. Once, when they were roasting wild chicken, she had threatened to tell the monks of Chongyang Palace about their sweaty antics—a scandal akin to insulting a monk by calling him bald.

Yet they didn’t hold a grudge; she even managed to snag a portion of the roast chicken from their mouths.

Later, Qiu Zhiqing discovered that jade bee honey paired perfectly with barbecue, and he couldn’t stop indulging.

Li Mochou, clearly new here, still held the jar of jade bee honey, urging Liu Zhiyuan to brush it onto the roasting rabbit. She muttered the classic lines of a beauty: “The bunny is so cute, why does it smell so good when roasted? Next time, no more bunny; let’s try something else…”

Qiu Zhiqing was speechless—was this some kind of cosmic synchronicity?

“Could you guys pick a different signal next time, my dear senior brothers? It’s already autumn. The cuckoo has long since flown away. Who dares stay on Zhongnan Mountain now?”

Fang Zhiqi, turning two roasted rabbits in his hands while signaling Liu Zhiyuan to brush sauce and royal jelly, replied casually: “Little junior brother, who cares about such things? Besides, aren’t we worried you wouldn’t recognize a new code? Brush the oil…”

Looking at the tempting roast rabbits, Qiu Zhiqing’s mouth watered, but he couldn’t resist reciting, “Moderate diet, light flavor, abandoning glory…” an excerpt from the seventh of Quanzhen’s Ten Commandments, the “Ten Exhortations” by Master Danyangzi.

The three turned to him, rolling their eyes in unison, their childish voices chorusing, “Then don’t eat it!”

Moments later: “Really delicious~~~”