Chapter Three: The White Emperor’s Profound Scripture of Primordial Origin

“Second Brother, where exactly is the Dantian?” Chen Jin asked as he tore off another chunk of tiger meat and stuffed it into his mouth.

“The Dantian? Lift your shirt, and I’ll show you,” Wu Song replied, his gaze sweeping over Chen Jin.

Wu Song, in Chen Jin’s opinion, was probably a straightforward man, so he suspected nothing and loosened his short tunic.

Apparently, Chen Jin had traversed worlds through soul transmigration, not bodily, and had ended up inhabiting a young man of seventeen or eighteen. The youth’s clothes were threadbare, likely due to his humble background as a farmer, which explained why Wu Song took special care of him.

Wu Song pointed three inches below Chen Jin’s navel. “Here is the Dantian, the center of physical strength. Most people rely on this Dantian.”

Wu Song’s fingertip sent a tingling sensation coursing through Chen Jin’s body. He inhaled deeply, and his lungs felt cleansed and refreshed, the autumnal coolness in the warm air of Jingyang Ridge invigorating him.

“Here?” Chen Jin rubbed his abdomen, perplexed. Wasn’t this just the diaphragm, which aids the lungs in breathing? Yet the sensation was unmistakably real.

“When a living person breathes, he draws in both pure and impure air, retaining a trace of primordial Qi. This Qi, neither pure nor impure, settles here. If cultivated properly, it strengthens the Dantian; once the Dantian is strong, so is the breath, and the two reinforce each other, greatly enhancing physical power,” Wu Song explained.

“Is that how you achieved such strength to slay tigers and demons?” Chen Jin asked, his expression full of admiration and envy.

“I was frail as a child. My elder brother sought a remedy from an old Taoist in the mountains, who gave us a prescription—an unconventional method to cultivate primordial Qi. Unfortunately, my brother couldn’t master it, or else he would have grown strong himself,” Wu Song said, a trace of sadness in his words.

“Later, I tried to help my brother, massaging his meridians to strengthen his body, but his meridians were already set, his bones unable to grow further. It’s a pity.”

“Don’t be too disheartened, Second Brother,” Chen Jin hurried to comfort him. “Perhaps someday, you’ll have a stroke of luck and help Big Brother Wu grow stronger.”

“I heard my brother married back home, but the local thugs dared bully him for his honest nature, mocking him for marrying a lovely wife but lacking the strength to satisfy her. I rushed home that night and taught those ruffians a lesson. Sadly, my brother had already fled with his wife to Yanggu County to escape the humiliation. Now that I’m in Yanggu, I’ll stand up for my brother—let’s see who dares bully him again,” Wu Song declared angrily.

Chen Jin hadn’t read much of Water Margin, nor of the other classics, though he had skimmed Jin Ping Mei… cough, cough, actually, he hadn’t read it at all.

He only knew the basic relationships between Wu Song, Wu Dalang, Pan Jinlian, and Ximen Qing—the rest was a mystery. He remembered Wu Song slaying the tiger from his school textbooks, which was why Jingyang Ridge was familiar.

So when Wu Song mentioned his hometown and Yanggu County, Chen Jin was clueless. He vaguely recalled that Pan Jinlian would have an affair with Ximen Qing, possibly already underway, then poison Wu Dalang, and finally be killed by Wu Song.

Of course, Chen Jin wouldn’t recklessly tell Wu Song that his brother might already have been cuckolded, or that his sister-in-law was out making herself pretty every day. Without proof, saying such things to a straightforward man like Wu Song would only invite trouble.

Therefore, Chen Jin kept his mouth shut, avoiding discussions about Wu Song’s brother and his wife, and limited himself to talking about the basics of cultivation.

Chen Jin then inquired about the Ni Gong Pill, the Purple Mansion, and the Ren and Du meridians.

Wu Song explained clearly, pointing out the locations for Chen Jin. He wasn’t surprised by Chen Jin’s knowledge of these terms, as if it was natural for Chen Jin to know.

The poor tiger demon had been half-devoured, with its bones boiled into soup.

Wu Song consumed ninety percent of the tiger demon’s meat; the remaining tenth went to Chen Jin. In truth, whether Chen Jin ate even a fraction was questionable—the tiger demon’s body was massive, weighing a ton or two. After removing blood, organs, and bones, perhaps eight or nine thousand kilograms of meat remained. Half of that, a tenth, wouldn’t even amount to forty kilograms. Eating that much meat would surely overwhelm Chen Jin, even if it were pork. Yet he managed to swallow it all.

This was likely due to Chen Jin obtaining a fragment of the “White Emperor’s Profound Primordial Scripture.” Though he didn’t fully grasp its meaning, he gained its essence, and his body unconsciously followed its method of tempering.

Wu Song observed this silently, having already imparted much knowledge about cultivation.

For example, cultivation realms were divided into six levels: Thought Stabilization, Qi Stabilization, Spirit Stabilization, Soul Gathering, Yang Fusion, and Mortal Shedding.

He explained the characteristics of each realm, though not the method of breaking through—after all, the law is not passed to those who have not entered the gate. To teach more, one would first need to kneel and acknowledge him as a master, offer tea and wine, and worship the ancestors. Only then would the deeper secrets be revealed.

Chen Jin drank plenty of tiger bone soup, which brought strength faster than the meat, its heat invigorating him. After a few mouthfuls, his heart beat violently, his meridians cramped, and he collapsed, convulsing.

Luckily, Wu Song was nearby. He struck Chen Jin more than ten times, after which Chen Jin vomited a thick, fishy breath and recovered, his strength greatly increased. He felt much lighter.

Just as Chen Jin was delighted, Wu Song remarked that he was still a mere mortal. True cultivators have already stabilized their thoughts and Qi, absorb and expel the primordial energy of heaven and earth, and integrate it with their own primordial Qi. Merely gaining strength does not make one a cultivator.

Despite Wu Song’s words, Chen Jin remained cheerful, not at all disappointed. The sudden surge of power gave him a taste of what protagonists in cultivation novels experience. Though there was no filthy grime to be expelled and no cleansing of the mundane, Chen Jin did feel a marked change in himself.

Once Chen Jin adjusted to his newfound strength, Wu Song announced it was time to descend the mountain and head for Yanggu County to reunite with Wu Dalang.

Chen Jin eagerly agreed, wishing to meet the famous Wu Dalang, the wayward Pan Jinlian, and the man who picked her flower, Ximen Qing.

But as he followed Wu Song down to the stone stele at Jingyang Ridge, the scene before him suddenly blurred.

Gone were the picturesque mountains and waters; he found himself back in the driver’s seat.

The passenger seat was empty, the black leather book gone, and the thunder and lightning outside had vanished.

Chen Jin’s body, which had felt light, was now heavy again.

Had everything returned to normal? Was it all just a dream?

As Chen Jin considered slapping his head to dispel such fanciful thoughts, his gaze froze. Right before him, a black leather book floated, slowly opening its cover.

On the new page, lined like a notebook, several lines were written:

Wu Song Slays the Tiger (End)

Mission: None

Reward: “White Emperor’s Profound Primordial Scripture” (fragment), Low-grade Primordial Qi Orb

Chen Jin stared dumbly at the apparition.

The shadow gradually faded, and two globes of green light appeared before him.

A vague sense of destiny nudged him—should he absorb these two items?

Chen Jin didn’t accept them all; he only took the fragment of the “White Emperor’s Profound Primordial Scripture.”

Whoosh—

As soon as Chen Jin willed it, a green light shot into his forehead.

Suddenly, his mind was flooded with memories—the contents of the fragment, specifically the Gengxin Metal Qi Formula.

“Incredible!” Chen Jin exclaimed, savoring the experience as he sat in the driver’s seat, the Gengxin Metal Qi Formula etched deep in his memory, as clear as his own name.

“I wonder about the Primordial Qi Orb…”

Just as Chen Jin was about to absorb the orb, his phone rang in his pocket.