Chapter Two: The Five Energies Returning to the Source Fist

After finishing breakfast, Qin Yi went to the mission hall, received his assignment, and headed down the mountain with more than twenty fellow disciples. That’s right—the task was weeding!

Now that the Azure Dawn Dao Palace had over five hundred people, that meant more than five hundred mouths to feed. Except for the higher-ups who didn’t have to do chores, all ordinary Daoists had their share of work: washing clothes, cooking, chopping wood, fetching water, tending fields, and growing vegetables.

Fortunately, the Dao Palace owned several hundred acres of fertile land at the foot of the mountain, enough to sustain its hundreds of members.

“Have you heard? Those senior brothers with official Daoist registers used to work too, but in the past few months, the Dao Palace has recruited two or three hundred newcomers. The seniors are completely freed now, and we recent arrivals have become something like menial laborers,” Zhang Big Knife grumbled.

“Farming isn’t so bad. At least it beats getting conscripted and losing your life,” a young man said in a low voice.

“That’s right. The Dao Palace is applying for Daoist registers for us with the county office. Even during the application period, we’re exempt from military service. My neighbor’s two sons were both killed up north last month. Their wives and children are pitiful…”

“Exactly…”

Qin Yi walked behind, listening to the gossip, a vague sense of unease stirring in his heart. The Dao Palace had taken in two or three hundred newcomers in just a few months?

Would all their applications for Daoist registers be approved?

...

Half a month passed quietly.

On his way to morning class, Qin Yi happened to meet Zhang Big Knife.

“Qin Fourth, morning!” Zhang Big Knife greeted heartily.

“Big Knife, morning!” Qin Yi nodded. Zhang Big Knife was the son of the butcher Zhang. They hadn’t been close before, but now, as fellow disciples from the same town, they had grown familiar over the past half month.

“Hey, Fourth, this Dao Palace makes us recite scriptures every day. I’m almost going insane. I wanted to enlist, but my father chased me for three streets with his butcher’s knife…”

Along the way, Zhang Big Knife muttered incessantly until they finally reached the square.

...

“Good. You’ve recited the Daoist scriptures for half a month, and I’ve explained both to you several times. Today, I’ll teach you something different. In our Daoist tradition, we revere life, seek harmony between life and the Dao. What does that mean? Simply put, it’s about nurturing your own vitality.”

Everyone perked up their ears.

“How do we nurture life? Azure Dawn Dao Palace has a health-preserving martial art: the Five Qi Returning to the Origin Fist. Practicing it strengthens the body and prolongs life!” Elder Qing Song explained patiently.

“Uncle Qing Song, after mastering the Five Qi Returning to the Origin Fist, can we leap over roofs and shatter wood and stone, defeating thousands?” a young man stood up, his face full of expectation.

“No, the Five Qi Returning to the Origin Fist only strengthens your body and promotes health and longevity; it won’t let you leap roofs or defeat thousands. If practicing a fist could make you invincible, why would the government need an army? You’ve been poisoned by too many storybooks. What we Daoists pursue is effortless longevity.” Elder Qing Song smiled.

His words instantly disappointed many.

“Uncle Qing Song, but yesterday I saw a senior brother practicing his palm technique against a tree on the back mountain. After he left, I went closer and saw the trunk was covered with deep and shallow palm prints. Can the Five Qi Returning to the Origin Fist do that?” Zhang Big Knife asked with wide eyes.

“Leave palm prints on a tree?” Qin Yi, listening at the back, felt his eyelid twitch. Could this world really possess supernatural power?

To leave palm prints on a tree trunk requires tremendous strength. In his previous life, who could slap a solid wooden board and leave a print? Even if your fist bled, you wouldn’t leave a mark!

“No, as I said, the Five Qi Returning to the Origin Fist only strengthens the body and prolongs life. Besides, our Daoist tradition values self-cultivation and longevity—isn’t that good enough?”

“Ahem... It is good, but I still want to learn that palm technique the senior brother used!” Zhang Big Knife scratched the back of his head, longing for it.

“That technique can only be practiced after you’ve officially obtained a Daoist register.” Elder Qing Song explained, unperturbed.

“Then, Uncle Qing Song, after mastering that palm technique, can you break gold and split stone?” a burly youth couldn’t help but ask.

This finally ruffled the genial Elder Qing Song: “You children, truly poisoned by storybooks! No, no, no! We are ordinary mortals. Is your palm harder than stone? Enough, I’ll teach you the Five Qi Returning to the Origin Fist only once!”

Seeing the kindly elder lose his temper, everyone fell silent.

Elder Qing Song made a starting gesture and said, “The Five Qi Returning to the Origin Fist has thirty-six forms, each with distinct breathing techniques!”

“Inhale…”

“Exhale…”

“The first form: one slow, one fast, hold your breath, then exhale! Watch my final punch—let the fist follow the breath!” Elder Qing Song’s right fist moved slow, then fast, and finally struck out with a sharp wind-whistling sound!

...

“The Five Qi refers to the heart storing fire, liver storing wood, spleen storing earth, lungs storing metal, and kidneys storing water! This fist’s breathing techniques nurture your heart, liver, spleen, lungs, and kidneys. If you practice daily, you’ll surely live long!”

After demonstrating the entire set, none present could remember it all.

“All right, did you understand?” Elder Qing Song asked calmly.

“I can’t remember…” someone replied loudly.

“Of course not. If you could memorize it after one demonstration, you’d be a peerless genius!” Elder Qing Song smiled.

“What’s the point of practicing this useless fist?” someone muttered.

“Uncle Qing Song, how do we know we’ve mastered this fist?” Qin Yi raised his hand.

Elder Qing Song looked at Qin Yi and said, “Thirty-six forms, practiced in one breath without breaking rhythm, each breath and movement perfectly synchronized. If you can repeat it ten times in a row without mistakes, you’ve entered the gate.”

“Thank you for your guidance, Uncle Qing Song.” Qin Yi bowed slightly.

“All right, morning class ends here. Dismissed!” Elder Qing Song departed.

“This fist is useless; I won’t bother! Fourth, let’s go get our assignments!” Zhang Big Knife rumbled over.

“Right. When we get our official Daoist registers, we must learn that technique that leaves palm prints on trees!” a delicate-looking youth said disdainfully.

Qin Yi glanced at him. This youth was Song Jie, childhood friend of Zhang Big Knife. His father was a scholar, currently teaching at a private school in town—better off than Qin Yi’s father, Qin Zuomin, who was only a pupil and worked as a bookkeeper at a rice shop.

Soon, the three went to receive their tasks.

As for the Five Qi Returning to the Origin Fist, Qin Yi thought differently. Elder Qing Song said it could strengthen the body and prolong life, so he didn’t believe it was useless—longevity was no small thing. In Dayong, reaching seventy was considered long-lived!

As for those arts that required an official Daoist register? Qin Yi had a foreboding feeling; to become a registered Daoist would probably require a hefty sum!