As the minds of the abbot and the various heads churned with disbelief, Venerable Kongjian stepped forward, his tone gentle.
Wei Boda did not refuse.
In truth, he was in no position to refuse.
The moment he laid eyes on Venerable Kongjian, Wei Boda felt the nascent strand of Xiantian Qi in his Dantian tremble. The elder’s strength was far beyond anything he could have imagined—he was on an entirely different level from the abbot and the heads of the halls. From them, Wei Boda had felt no such pressure.
“Martial arts perfected, Inner Qi self-generated.”
“Indeed,” Venerable Kongjian sighed, lightly touching Wei Boda’s right hand. A scorching wave of Inner Qi spread from the point of contact, probing his meridians. “He has cultivated a superior martial art to a state of absolute perfection.”
“Inner Qi self-generated?”
The abbot and the heads of the Great Chan Temple exhaled in unison. They had suspected as much, but to hear it confirmed still felt incredible.
In the world of Wudao, the path of cultivation progressed through the Acquired Realm, the Xiantian Realm, the Zongshi Realm, and finally, the Great Zongshi Realm. For most, becoming a Zongshi was the absolute ceiling; a Great Zongshi might not appear even once in several hundred years. The vast majority of martial artists spent their lives in the Acquired and Xiantian realms.
There were three ways to ascend from the Acquired to the Xiantian.
The first was to consume a rare spiritual medicine. If the body could absorb its power, even an ordinary person could become an Xiantian martial artist.
The second was the most common path: an Acquired Peak martial artist would seize upon a moment of insight, break through their limits, and successfully enter the Xiantian Realm. Nearly all Xiantian Dashi were forged this way.
The third was to perfect a superior martial art. These arts were the painstaking creations of Da Zongshi, and mastering one meant developing a certain aspect of the body to its ultimate extent. It was no surprise that Xiantian Qi could be naturally generated from such a foundation. However, those who reached the Xiantian Realm through this method were typically in their fifties or sixties, having spent decades immersed in a single art before a chance enlightenment granted them a breakthrough.
For someone like Wei Boda to have mastered a superior martial art at the age of three or four… the abbot and the heads had never even heard of such a thing. The only possible explanation was that he was a prodigy born with innate knowledge, a talent seen once in a millennium.
“Young one,” Venerable Kongjian said, his expression a complex mixture of awe and contemplation, “would you be willing to take me as your master?”
At his words, the abbot and the other heads showed no surprise. Having confirmed that Wei Boda had achieved perfection in a superior martial art, they knew his talent was the greatest the Great Chan Temple had seen in a thousand years. Such a prodigy could only be taught by Venerable Kongjian, the sole Zongshi in their midst. Strictly speaking, the abbot and the heads were on the same Xiantian level as Wei Boda. What right did they have to teach him?
“Disciple pays respect to Master,” Wei Boda said, bowing deeply and immediately.
Becoming Venerable Kongjian’s disciple would save him an immense amount of time. According to the rules of the Great Chan Temple, every disciple, regardless of status, had to spend three years as a horse-riding monk, three years in menial service, three years in the sutra exposition hall, and three years in the Discipline Academy. Only after enduring these twelve years could they begin to truly learn the temple’s genuine martial arts.
Had Wei Boda hidden his talent among the ordinary novices, he would have wasted years. While his Ni Tian Wuxing allowed him to gain epiphanies from simply observing mountains and water, different starting points yielded vastly different results over the same period. Given that he could only remain in this world for twenty years, hiding his abilities was not an option.
With Venerable Kongjian—the Great Chan Temple’s only Zongshi—as his personal teacher, and combined with his Ni Tian Wuxing, Wei Boda’s progress was destined to be a rarity in the world.
Five years later, Wei Boda and Venerable Kongjian sat opposite each other.
“From now on, you should move into the Sutra Pavilion,” Venerable Kongjian said, the corner of his mouth twitching almost imperceptibly.
His words were an admission: he could no longer teach Wei Boda.
It couldn’t be helped. Wei Boda’s comprehension was simply too monstrous. In the beginning, Venerable Kongjian could offer him guidance. But after just a few days, he realized something was wrong. The ancient saying was ‘to hear one thing and understand three,’ but that hardly applied to Wei Boda. He heard one thing and understood ten. No matter what Venerable Kongjian taught, Wei Boda would grasp it instantly and perceive even more profound meanings within it.
What astonished the Zongshi even more was that the boy’s talent was not limited to the Wudao. He demonstrated an equal, frightening aptitude for Buddhist sutras and laws. Faced with such a phenomenon, even a Zongshi like Venerable Kongjian felt overwhelmed. Toward the end of their time together, it was less a master instructing a disciple and more a debate between two high monks on equal footing. At times, Wei Boda’s insights were of great benefit even to him.
And all of this had taken only two months.
A glimmer of anticipation lit Wei Boda’s eyes. The Sutra Pavilion was the repository of all the Great Chan Temple’s martial arts, an absolutely critical location. The seventy-two ultimate techniques were all housed on its second floor. Beyond that, the third floor was said to contain arts that surpassed even those legendary skills.
Wei Boda had long wanted to visit the Sutra Pavilion, but Venerable Kongjian had always refused, saying he was too young and that exposure to such advanced concepts could be detrimental to his state of mind.
“The countless martial arts collected in the Sutra Pavilion are the life’s work of the Great Chan Temple’s past Da Zongshi,” Venerable Kongjian said, waving a hand in a gesture of resignation. “There, you should be able to learn much more.”
Since he could no longer teach Wei Boda, he would let the legacies of his predecessors take over. The Sutra Pavilion was off-limits to ordinary disciples, but Wei Boda was different. With the permission of Zongshi Venerable Kongjian, he could enter without issue.
After that day, Venerable Kongjian announced his intention to enter secluded meditation.
Wei Boda, in turn, became a permanent resident of the Sutra Pavilion. At only three years old, he began to immerse himself in countless martial arts. The collection was as vast as the sea; the seventy-two ultimate techniques were merely its most famous component.
On the second floor of the Sutra Pavilion, Wei Boda pulled out an ancient tome. It was the Yi Jin Jing, a unique martial art capable of remodeling one’s meridians and enhancing their martial talent. Its value surpassed even that of the seventy-two ultimate techniques. However, no one in the entire Great Chan Temple had ever managed to master it. The threshold was simply too high, requiring not only profound martial insight but also a deep understanding of Buddhist scripture.
Venerable Kongjian might have had the foundation to practice it, but for a Zongshi, the Yi Jin Jing was no longer of great significance.
Wei Boda picked up the original text and began to read with intense focus.
Three days passed in the blink of an eye.
[Your understanding is against Heaven’s; by observing the special martial art ‘Yi Jin Jing,’ you’ve comprehended the special martial art ‘Yi Jin Washing Marrow Tempering Body Exchanging Blood Refining Divine Skill.’]
A surge of joy rose in Wei Boda’s heart. He could feel an indescribable energy circulating through his limbs and bones, slowly strengthening his meridians and flesh. This power was not limited to his physical body; it was also nourishing his spirit and soul.
“The original Yi Jin Jing could only remodel meridians, which seems too one-dimensional. This newly comprehended ‘Yi Jin Washing Marrow Tempering Body Exchanging Blood Refining Divine Skill’ strengthens every aspect, leaving no weaknesses. Even a Great Zongshi would be envious,” Wei Boda mused, a small smile touching his lips.
After two months of tutelage from Zongshi Venerable Kongjian, his understanding of this world’s martial arts was no longer shallow. Da Zongshi did not focus on sinews and bones because they had already developed them to the absolute limit of a mortal body. However, the subsequent tempering of the body, exchanging of blood, and refining of the spirit could have a huge impact even on them. The refining of the spirit, in particular, was something that even Great Da Zongshi desperately sought to enhance.
“With this skill, stepping into the Zongshi Realm should come sooner rather than later.”
Wei Boda nodded, satisfied. After comprehending the ‘Great Arhat Buddha Fist’, he had ascended rapidly, bypassing the Acquired Realm entirely to step directly into the Xiantian. But his Xiantian Realm was superficially strong. Other experts nurtured their Xiantian Qi from a foundation of robust vitality, breaking through only when their bodies were at their peak. Wei Boda, with the physique of a three-year-old child, naturally lacked their quality and quantity of Xiantian Qi.
But with the realm achieved, building the foundation was just a matter of time. Now, with the ‘Yi Jin Washing Marrow Tempering Body Exchanging Blood Refining Divine Skill’ nurturing his body and spirit, he would save that time as well. This martial technique, far surpassing the original Yi Jin Jing, would comprehensively improve and enhance every facet of his being.
Wei Boda stayed in the Sutra Pavilion for five years.