Wuji opened one of the books, dipped his bamboo pen into the ink, and began writing.
"To make this technique believable… I should include about ten percent of the real Iron Marrow Body Scripture," he thought, his hand moving steadily across the page.
"That'll be enough to fool someone like Liang. And to make it feel ancient and profound… I'll use Earth terms, things he won't understand, but will sound important."
With a small grin, he continued writing, carefully weaving truth, lies, and nonsense into one seamless illusion.
{Those who seek divine strength must first sever their ties to the mortal world. The marrow is both the source of blood and the furnace of will. Before reshaping the body, one must sever the ties to indulgence. Lust dulls the blade of purpose. Shed it, or remain weak.}
He added a line below in fine script:
{Initiation requires the Ritual of Purification. Those with manhood must sever the chain that binds them. In return, spiritual energy will no longer reject the marrow. The body will awaken}
Wuji laughed under his breath. "They won't understand most of it. They'll just cling to the promise of strength."
Then, he drew a fake diagram, a mix of a pressure-point chart and an acupuncture map.
He copied half of it from the Iron Marrow Scripture and invented the other half on the spot. "Add some more Earth jargon," he whispered. Then he scrawled:
{Neuro-muscular override: Hormonal reabsorption. Total suppression of the gonadal gate meridian. Initiate Phase I via pelvic rupture cycle}
He wrote the warning in bold words; {Warning: Without complete purity of flesh, the practice will fail. Seekers must not copulate; otherwise, they risk internal energy deviation and total collapse}
He leaned back, satisfied. The final stroke was on the back page was the hope the point that would cool their indecisiveness.
{If you remain disciplined, the lost fragment of your body will regenerate once you reach Tier Four. Until then, endure}
He closed the book.
"Now, all that's left is to put it somewhere they'll 'discover' it like fools chasing heaven's crumbs," Wuji thought, remembering the dojo where the books were kept.
"No, the chances of them discovering it are slim, especially now that they are obsessed with practice," he thought. "Since they like to bully, I should let them bully me once with the book in my sleeve," he thought, grinning.
Then he continued writing the other books, filling them with vague, grandiose lines such as:
{The heavens treat all beings as straw dogs}
{To hold the Tao is to empty the self and cast off the bones}
{One must flow like a quark beneath the chi sea}
He even copied fragments of the Tao Te Ching, but only the simple ones. He feared that if he used the more cryptic passages, readers might overthink them, strain themselves, and discard the whole thing.
No martial artist wanted to wrestle with metaphysics when they were desperate for power.
"Less is more. Vagueness equals depth," Wuji muttered to himself as he dipped the bamboo pen again.
Seven hours passed, and the ink in the last bowl was nearly dry. Wuji's back ached and his fingers were stained black. Finally, though, five books sat on the straw mat.
Their pages were sewn, and their insides were filled with esoteric gibberish wrapped in just enough truth.
He sat cross-legged, staring at them.
"Now... the titles."
He closed his eyes, then opened them with a wicked grin. He scrawled them across the covers in bold strokes:
{Eclipse Marrow Ascension Canon}
{Heaven's Vein Cleaving Path}
{Origin Flame Bone Scripture}
{Void Pulse Meridian Code}
{Thousand Sinew Tyrant Body Manual}
They appeared authentic—grand, ancient—but to anyone knowledgeable, they were merely powerful-nonsense strung together.
Wuji tapped the last book's cover, satisfied. "They'll eat it up," he said, rising to stretch his sore limbs. "Desperation always looks for a shortcut especially now."
He walked to the back of the hut, placed the books under a bundle of cloth, and left them to dry and age further in the sun.
"One I would take it to the dojo tonight. Two are for sale. Two for... chaos in the town," he murmured to himself.
After sunset, Wuji stood outside the hut and picked up the five books from the ground. He entered the hut, where Meiyin was cleaning.
He placed four of the books under his bed and hid the fifth, Heaven's Vein Cleaving Path, under his robe.
"Going out again?" Meiyin asked without looking up.
"Just to watch others train," he replied.
She paused, then nodded. "Don't stay out too late, brother."
"Okay," Wuji said as he left with a faint smile.
He walked to the dojo. By now, darkness had set in, but the faint moonlight and candlelight from the villagers illuminated the surroundings.
When he arrived, the dojo courtyard was bathed in moonlight. Lanterns flickered along the edge, and fire torches burned on the four surrounding wooden walls.
Dozens of youths were practicing. Wuji kept his head low, pacing along the edge of the training ground and looking around nervously.
Most of the students present looked at him, then returned to their training. However, some looked at him curiously, especially Chen Yi's two lapdogs and Wang Da, who was training with Liang.
"Stop wasting time. We don't have time. Make every second count," Liang said, hitting the dummies with his red, bandaged knuckles.
He didn't stop, but watched Wuji begin his training.
"Look at him. I don't remember him being this strong the last time I beat him, and that was just several days ago. Now, it's like he's improved, and he looks like he's about to reach third-rate," Wang Da said, puzzled.
"But that should be impossible. Someone like him, with no talent, resources, or teacher, can't become third-rate this fast," Wang Da continued.
This made Liang stop and take a closer look at Wuji. "He is indeed different from the last time I saw him in the dojo. He couldn't lift ten kilos last time," Liang said, watching Wuji easily lift forty-kilo dumbbells as if they were cabbages.
They looked at each other and realized they had the same idea. "A martial arts technique," they said in unison. "But do you think a martial arts technique could improve him that quickly?" Wang Da asked.
"No, only a rare martial arts technique could do that. I think it's as powerful as the Fifth Elder's personal technique," Liang said, making Wang Da look expectantly at him. "I wonder when the fifth elder will return. I can't wait to practice his technique," Wang Da thought.
Liang furrowed his brow slightly. "But where would he get one?"
"Maybe he bought it in town or stole it. Who cares? Whatever it is, it's obviously working. Our concern should be to get the technique," Wang Da said.
Ren, who was standing a few steps away from them training sword moves with Yulian, overheard their conversation.
He looked closely at Wuji and easily saw the bulge in his chest. "So, their guess is correct. He does indeed have a martial technique," he thought.
He stopped sparring, then walked to Wang Da and Liang without hesitation.
"Hey, are you afraid? Why did you just leave like that?" Yulian yelled, but Ren didn't answer. He just turned and motioned for her to be quiet and follow him.
Wang Da and Liang looked back and saw Ren and Yulian approaching. "I think they heard us," said Wang Da.
"Don't worry. We can just share the technique. It's not like we're competing against each other, right?" Liang replied.
Wang Da shot him a sharp look. "The more people there are, the more risk there is."
"More people means more eyes watching him. If he tries to run, we'll block every path," said Liang.
"Where can he run to? This village is his whole world. I hear the town is becoming chaotic, so he wouldn't dare go there," Wang Da said. Liang didn't answer.
"So, when do we move?" Ren asked, stepping up beside Liang. Yulian followed, his eyes sharp.
Wang Da scanned the dojo. Most of the others were either too deep in training or too exhausted to notice anything. "We wait until he leaves. Remember: no noise, no eyes on us."
"Right," Liang muttered, throwing another punch at the dummy. "We'll play it cool. Don't overreact."
The others nodded and casually returned to training, though none of them were truly focused anymore.
But not everyone at the training ground was fooled by their clumsy act.
A few sharp-eyed individuals had noticed the subtle shift in tension around them, which tightened like drawn bows.
They didn't say anything, and they didn't need to. Whatever was about to happen, they were ready to be part of it.
Wuji finished his training session, drenched in sweat and breathing heavily he collapsed onto the ground to rest, but he kept his hand on his chest, right over the book tucked beneath his robe.
His eyes scanned his surroundings as if he was guarding against someone—or something.
The four watching him didn't need any more confirmation.
"He's got something," Liang whispered between strikes. "I'd bet a full gold coin it's a martial technique."
"Make that two," said Wang Da, narrowing his eyes.
When Wuji finally got to his feet and left the dojo, none of them hesitated.
Wang Da was the first to follow, then Liang.
Ren came next, and Yulian was last. But they weren't the only ones tailing Wuji.
At the edge of the training ground, Chen Yi's two lapdogs exchanged glances and peeled off silently to trail behind the four.
From the far end, two more people fell in step, curiosity burning in their eyes.
By the time Wuji had walked halfway down the path back to the hut, he had left half the dojo behind.
He felt malicious eyes digging into his back. "Finally, you fell for it, Liang and those three bastards," he thought, his lips curling faintly.
He didn't expect eight people to take the bait, though.
As he walked toward the hut, tension crept into his chest. "Are they planning to follow me all the way home? I can't let them near Meiyin."
Without hesitating, he changed course, turning into the dense bushes by the side trail.
Several meters behind him, the group of four slowed.
Ren squinted. "Why did he turn?"
"Probably to take a piss," Liang muttered.
Still, they followed.
Through the brush, they spotted Wuji standing with his back to them, relieving himself.
Ren snorted. "What a coincidence, Yin Li."
Wang Da didn't waste time. "Cut the crap. Hand over the technique, or you'll never walk straight again."
"Damn, why ruin the fun?" Ren muttered.
"We don't have time," Wang Da snapped. "I felt someone tailing us."
Wuji finished up calmly and turned around. "What technique? What the hell are you talking about?"
"Don't play dumb," Liang barked. "Get him!"
They rushed him, circling around and cutting off every path.
"The book in your chest. You really think we wouldn't notice that lump?" Liang sneered.
"This is mine! I paid everything I had for it! Why should I give it to you? What right do you have, you thieving bastards?" Wuji shouted, his voice shaking with just the right amount of fury.
His performance was so convincing that the four of them smirked at one another. They believed they had broken him.
Thud!
Wang Da's fist slammed into Wuji's jaw. He staggered, but didn't fall. His fingers trembled as he touched his bleeding lip.
"Lighter than last time... No, I've just gotten stronger."
"He's improved," Wang Da said, with a hint of surprise in his voice. "Good. That means the technique is the real deal."
He punched again. Wuji stumbled back and threw a retaliatory strike. However, Liang's kick came from the left, hitting him squarely in the ribs and sending him flying into Ren's waiting fist.
Crack!
Wuji hit the ground hard, blood running down his chin. His vision spun, but he grinned as he stood up.
Yulian's sword gleamed as he swung it through the air.
Splash.