Chapter Ten: The Bright Moon in the Palm, The Universe in the Sleeve

Fang Zheng still rose early, as it had quietly become his habit. The night before, he had studied the cultivation techniques on the book page and the "True Return Detailed Explanation" he’d acquired in the mountain valley until late, and his understanding of cultivation was no longer that of a complete novice—he’d already grasped many of the basics. What he lacked was merely experience.

At this moment, the spiritual energy within his body flowed gently, like a trickling stream, entering from the Heavenly Gate, most of it gathering in his Purple Mansion, while a smaller portion dispersed through his limbs and meridians. This gradual sense of growing strength was intoxicating for Fang Zheng.

After breakfast, he packed up yesterday’s hunt and prepared to head into town with the little girl. Today was the semi-monthly market day in Shen Family Village, much like a fair back on Earth, where villagers from all around would gather to buy daily necessities. Some merchants from the nearby towns would also come specifically to do business. Fang Zheng greeted Aunt Zhao, hefted the elk onto his shoulder, took the little girl by the hand, and set off for the street. As for the pheasant, Aunt Zhao had cooked it for breakfast at his request, and the three of them had already eaten it. The wild rabbit was saved for the afternoon.

The streets were bustling today. Vendors big and small hawked their wares, and the goods were dizzyingly varied—some things Fang Zheng couldn’t even guess the purpose of. The many delicacies were an irresistible temptation for the little girl. By the time the two of them reached the spot where game was bought, the little girl already had three or four treats—candied figurines, sugar-coated hawthorns, and the like—in her hands.

A middle-aged man with a goatee, looking every bit the vendor, was haggling over a wild rabbit with a hunter in front of him; behind him was a giant flat cart piled high with all sorts of game. When he saw Fang Zheng approaching with the elk, he abandoned his current customer and hurried over.

"You’re here to sell your catch, young man? My surname is Ma—I’ve been trading honestly in these parts for over a decade and promise to give you a fair price."

"Boss Ma, why don’t you finish with this gentleman first? I can wait," Fang Zheng replied politely, nodding toward the other hunter. Boss Ma, sensing the calm maturity in Fang Zheng that set him apart from rash youths, agreed readily, "Very well, please wait a moment." He turned, settled the deal with a few quick words, tossed the wild rabbit onto the cart, and returned to Fang Zheng.

"Thank you for your patience, young man. Now we can talk business." The hunter who’d sold his rabbit smiled gratefully at Fang Zheng, carefully pocketed his few copper coins, and went on his way.

"Thank you, boss. As long as the price is fair, the game is yours," Fang Zheng said offhandedly. Boss Zhao, sensing he wasn’t dealing with a pushover, asked to inspect the elk, then straightforwardly offered a reasonable price: "Though your elk is large and yields plenty of meat, it has two arrow wounds that mar the pelt, which is its most valuable part. Given its condition, I can only offer you two taels of silver. Is that acceptable?"

Fang Zheng felt a twinge of embarrassment but showed nothing on his face. "That’s a fair price. As you say, Boss Zhao."

After exchanging the game for silver, Fang Zheng prepared to leave with the little girl, but Boss Zhao called out, "I run a shop in town called ‘Hall of a Hundred Beasts’ that specializes in game. If you bring in any more, you can find me there, or I’ll be here every market day."

"Very well, I’ll remember that. If I have a good haul, I’ll trouble you again. Farewell!"

Having sold the game, Fang Zheng strolled through the market with the little girl. Candied figurines, dumplings, all sorts of farm specialties and mountain delicacies dazzled his eyes and delighted the little girl, who chirped with excitement. Just as they were enjoying themselves, Fang Zheng suddenly felt a hand reaching for him. "A thief," was his immediate thought. He silently grabbed the wrist and squeezed.

A sharp cry of pain rang out, drawing the attention of passersby and vendors. Fang Zheng, holding the little girl in his left hand and gripping the culprit’s wrist with his right, turned to look. He saw a short, stocky man of about thirty, his face flushed purple, beads of sweat rolling down his forehead, eyes wide with terror. Fang Zheng felt he looked familiar.

At that moment, the little girl tugged at Fang Zheng’s sleeve, signaling she had something secret to say. Fang Zheng smiled, crouched so she could reach his ear.

"Big brother, he’s a bad man. He always makes fun of Grandma and me, and loves laughing at us," she whispered, puffing her cheeks with indignation—her cuteness undeniable.

Fang Zheng remembered now: this was one of the onlookers when he’d killed the villain Shen Wan that day, standing outside the yard with a rough ceramic bowl in hand.

"Spare me, Master Fang, spare me!" the short man pleaded, sweat pouring off him. He’d witnessed Fang Zheng’s ruthlessness—killing Shen Wan with a single arrow without so much as blinking. Never did he expect to offend such a person; now, regret and fear overwhelmed him.

"Oh? Spare you? What did you do that you need my mercy?" Fang Zheng’s eyes glinted coldly.

The man trembled, stammering, "I didn’t recognize Master Fang. I’ll never do it again, please, have mercy. Spare me, I beg you!"

Fang Zheng looked at him a moment, then sighed. Though contemptible, the man’s crime wasn’t unforgivable—every wretch has his own misfortune. A small lesson would suffice.

He released the man’s arm. "If there’s a next time, you won’t be so lucky. You’re strong and able—why stoop to thievery? Is that any way for a man to live?" Fang Zheng rebuked him casually, then led the little girl away. The short man, half-collapsed, his wrist throbbing, wasted no time in vanishing into the crowd. Fang Zheng was unaware that, from that day on, the habitual thief turned over a new leaf, eventually establishing a thriving business and, whenever he thought back to this day, felt a secret gratitude toward "Master Fang," who had terrified him yet set him back on the right path.

The two strolled the market until the little girl was satisfied, then returned home. Fang Zheng briefly recounted the day’s events to Aunt Zhao, handing her the two taels of silver. "Auntie, please keep this for daily expenses. Don’t skimp on food from now on—Ya Ya is growing and needs to eat well."

"Oh, I can’t accept this—I have enough money."

"Auntie, don’t treat me like an outsider. I still have plenty of silver, and I’ll earn more as time goes on. The three of us rely on you to run the household—how can we manage without money?" After Fang Zheng’s earnest persuasion, Aunt Zhao finally accepted the silver. The little girl, tired from the outing, went to nap in the east room. Fang Zheng took his leave and returned to his own room.

He planned to study the jade slips he’d acquired the day before. Placing two of them on the table, he opened "True Return Detailed Explanation" and, with a clear goal, quickly found an introduction to these items midway through the book. After reading for a while, he finally understood their use: in the cultivation world, jade slips were a common way of passing down techniques—easier to carry and preserve than books, with high-quality slips lasting ten thousand years. This reminded Fang Zheng of USB drives back on Earth—similar in size and able to store vast amounts of data. The difference was that USB drives required a computer, while jade slips needed "divine sense" to read. Seeing this new term, Fang Zheng looked it up.

"When the sea of qi is formed, divine sense arises; with the mind commanding the sense, the Way reveals itself." So read the book’s original passage, followed by commentary from "Young Master Zhu," a wandering cultivator whose hardships seemed much like Fang Zheng’s own. Combining Zhu’s explanation with his own experience—and the hodgepodge of knowledge he’d picked up on Earth—Fang Zheng formed a rough understanding of "divine sense."

Young Master Zhu believed that divine sense naturally resided in the mind, and once the sea of qi was cultivated, spiritual energy would nourish the body and greatly enhance the brain, allowing divine sense to grow and even extend beyond the body, enabling all sorts of miraculous feats: sensing the world, reading jade slips, even inscribing spiritual energy into magical treasures and forging personal marks. To Fang Zheng, this was essentially like the "bioelectric currents and brainwaves" discussed on Earth—when biological functions were strong, bioelectricity increased, strengthening brainwaves to the point where they could, in theory, affect matter. Now wasn’t the time for in-depth research; all he needed was to read the jade slips.

He decided to approach the slips by focusing his thoughts and "intent" on opening them—a clumsy method, but worth a try. After a few attempts, he succeeded by chance: a torrent of information seemed to flood his mind, leaving him slightly dizzy. Once he recovered, he found he’d already memorized the first slip’s contents—it was a treatise on the art of alchemy. Fang Zheng had little interest in that for now, since he barely recognized any herbs; learning this would be pointless. He turned to the second slip. With experience from the first, this time it went smoothly, and his mind didn’t reel.

"When the Heavenly Gate opens, spiritual energy enters, shattering shackles and roaming the universe. Qi steams and the spirit soars, the palm moves mountains, holds the power to overturn seas. With arrays as the foundation and spirit as the guide, I draw the cosmos into a speck, create wondrous arts to astonish the gods, conceal the world within my sleeve." So began the slip, and Fang Zheng could tell at a glance it was a spell of tremendous ambition—his anticipation grew as he read on.

"Begin with the Lesser Shang, end with the Lesser Chong; pass through Yuji, Daling, Taiyuan, Jingqu, Tongli, Shenmen, Shaofu. Use Zhongchong as a bridge, gather at Laogong to form the art—birth and death in the palm, the world hidden in a sleeve, all things gathered within." The rest detailed the circulation routes, cautions, the cultivation process, and outward signs. There was even a method for crafting a magical treasure called the "Great Luo Celestial Sleeve"—though Fang Zheng ignored that for now, since it seemed the art required this special tool.

Fang Zheng’s heart burned—if the spell was as powerful as described, he would try to learn it no matter how difficult. According to the instructions, it required an open Heavenly Gate to practice—apparently, "Young Master Zhu" had never even qualified to attempt it before his untimely end. Now that Fang Zheng had inherited this good fortune, his gratitude deepened.

Steadying his mind, Fang Zheng began to cautiously practice the energy circulation described in the jade slip...