Chapter One: The Mountain Boy

In the southwest of the Huaxia country, there lay vast and countless mountains, tens of thousands in number! These mountains were lush and green throughout all four seasons. Even a mere stone here would be considered a precious oddity, worthy of extensive travel articles. However, despite the fascination with such places in the modern world, this area remained untouched and secluded, truly a rare gem.

Nestled within one of these countless mountains was a small village that had thrived for generations. The village consisted of just over a hundred households and a few hundred villagers who lived a simple and self-sufficient life. They rarely interacted with the outside world, and their only connection was a winding, rugged path leading out of the mountains. Every month or so, the village chief would assign about twenty strong young men to carry the charcoal they had made themselves and sell it outside the mountains. They would then buy essential supplies for the village.

Time seemed to stand still in these mountains, and this peaceful, isolated life had persisted for centuries, perhaps even thousands of years. Until that year when Lu Ziming reached the age of fifteen.

Lu Ziming was the only outsider in this small mountain village, or at least he used to be. Three years ago, his grandfather, a highly skilled and miraculous doctor, had saved countless lives but couldn't save his own. He passed away from illness, leaving Lu Ziming as the sole outsider in the village.

Since Lu Ziming was three years old, he had been exposed to the rich and profound culture of Huaxia. At three, he began reciting the Three-Character Classic, at four, he read the Book of Songs and the Analects, as well as the various philosophical schools and thinkers. At five, he began learning the art of Go, at six, he experimented with ink painting, at seven, he played the zither and the qin, and he learned to play the xiao and the flute. As for his grandfather's medical skills, Lu Ziming had become proficient in them by the age of ten. He could diagnose, prescribe treatment, select herbs, and perform acupuncture and cupping therapy with his sharp intelligence.

In short, since the age of three, Lu Ziming had no concept of leisure. He was busier every day than the adults in the village. By the age of ten, his grandfather summoned him and handed him a book wrapped in yellow silk. On the pages of the book were written the four large characters, "Menglan Gold Sutra." Lu Ziming examined it carefully for a long time under his grandfather's watchful eye.

From that day on, Lu Ziming added a new task to his daily routine – practicing the sutra. The Menglan Gold Sutra, despite its name as a sutra, was not actually a scripture but nine chaotic sketches of human figures with red arrows drawn on them. However, seeing his grandfather's serious and respectful expression, Lu Ziming dared not show any signs of disrespect.

Under his grandfather's guidance, Lu Ziming began practicing the first sketch. It was the simplest one with the fewest arrows but also the most challenging. His grandfather explained that the arrows represented something called "true Qi," and the arrow pathways showed how true Qi should flow. To succeed, he had to smoothly circulate the true Qi along the paths indicated by the arrows. It took him over a month of dedicated practice to achieve even a slight sensation of the tiny thread-like warmth within him. With great effort, he finally managed to circulate the true Qi as shown on the first sketch after an entire morning of practice. Strangely, instead of feeling exhausted, he felt light and invigorated. He had fallen in love with this feeling of cultivation and never needed his grandfather's prompting again.

One year later, at the age of eleven, Lu Ziming had completed the first sketch, and his grandfather burned it with fire. The true Qi inside him had become as thick as his pinky finger, responding effortlessly to his thoughts as it flowed smoothly along the pathways indicated on the first sketch. Mastering the first sketch had transformed his physique; he had become robust, strong, agile, and outperformed many of the young adults in the village.

Starting was always the most challenging part. With the experience of the first sketch, Lu Ziming was able to complete the second sketch in just half a year. During this time, his appearance didn't change significantly, but his mind had undergone a profound transformation. His already sharp intellect seemed to blossom, and many previously incomprehensible questions suddenly became clear. It was as if he had always been meant to be this way, everything felt natural.

Over these six months, his grandfather did two things consistently: nod approvingly while stroking his beard and cough continuously.

On Lu Ziming's twelfth birthday, he couldn't master the third sketch. Instead, he witnessed his grandfather's passing. His grandfather's departure was peaceful, except for occasional loud coughing fits. He had been watching Lu Ziming with serene eyes throughout, eyes that occasionally sparkled with a peculiar radiance, filled with satisfaction and anticipation, with a tinge of reluctance.

Three years had passed in the blink of an eye, and Lu Ziming had turned fifteen. If you were to say he was well-read, it would be an understatement. He excelled in various forms of art, including music, painting, and chess. The third sketch of the Menglan Gold Sutra had been destroyed by Lu Ziming two years earlier. After two years of dedicated practice, he felt that the day of completion for the fourth sketch was not far off.

As his training in the Menglan Gold Sutra deepened, Lu Ziming increasingly appreciated its value. He wasn't sure if he could still be considered a normal person. If people could accept a normal person casually raising their hand to topple a towering tree or leaping over ten meters with a single step, or lightly tapping their foot to soar over a hundred meters, then Lu Ziming was indeed normal.

Influenced by the traditional philosophy of Huaxia that emphasized humility and moderation, Lu Ziming had kept his extraordinary abilities a secret. Even his close friends didn't know about them, let alone the other villagers. He continued to live a fulfilling and contented life, just as he had when his grandfather was alive. He occasionally helped the villagers with minor ailments, spent most of his time studying medicine, practicing his art, playing chess and music, or absorbing the energy of the rising and setting sun. Occasionally, when the mood struck him, he would pick up his fishing rod and catch a few grass carp, returning to prepare a delicious meal to savor.