Chapter 6: The Seven Breathing Techniques Revised, Version 2.3 (Second Update)
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Chapter 6: The Seventh Set of Breathing Techniques, Revised Version 2.3 (Second Update)
Breadth is not as valuable as depth; knowing much is not as good as mastering one.
After giving up on talismans, Luo Feng began to focus on the breathing techniques. The revised version 2.3 of the seventh set of breathing techniques, true to its name, was not an inscrutable method of refining qi, but the most fundamental of all cultivation methods.
Its greatest advantage was its universal applicability: it made no distinctions among people, had no errors, no risk of deviation or madness, and could be practiced endlessly, by anyone, for as long as they lived.
Its greatest weakness, however, was its utter lack of power; it was used solely for breathing and refining qi.
On this day, a gentle breeze stirred, and the sunlight was bright and clear.
In the tranquil meditation chamber, Luo Feng, as always, regulated his breath and moved his blood and energy according to the breathing technique, striving to open the twelve main meridians.
The key to entering deep meditation was to reach the void where not a single thought arises—a state of pure emptiness, free of distractions, clear and serene.
Yet for ordinary people, countless thoughts flicker in the space of a moment; to have no thoughts arise is impossible—unless one is dead, with all mental activity ceased and no thoughts generated at all.
Cultivating immortality is about the way of life, not the way of death.
Thus, sages of old devised many methods to replace the unattainable state of total unity with heaven and earth, so that beginners could practice.
The entry method recorded in the breathing technique was simply to have no thoughts arise in the void.
Yet “none arise” and “none occur” are entirely different states. One need not sever every thought, but rather focus on a single thought, reaching a state of sincere devotion, thereby sensing the energy of heaven and earth.
Following this method, Luo Feng concentrated on the idea of a circle: himself as a small circle, the world as a great circle, and the universe as yet another. Focusing his mind, he felt faint fluctuations of energy with each breath, which, following his gentle spirit, slowly drifted into his body, bringing a wave of warmth.
Luo Feng’s eyes snapped open, and joy and delight shone from their clarity.
After three days in seclusion, he finally felt qi—he had crossed the first threshold of cultivation!
With the sensation of qi throughout his body, he felt boundless energy, as though he could tear a husky apart with his bare hands.
This, truly, was the strength of a husky!
The joy came suddenly. After forming qi sensation, Luo Feng became like a child with a new toy—aside from eating and sleeping, he did nothing but practice breathing and refining qi.
After several days, he discerned a pattern.
Every three minutes, he could generate a wisp of qi; every hundred wisps condensed into a strand of true qi, which could be used to clear the meridians and nourish the body.
In a single day, discounting time for eating and sleeping, he could produce about 320 wisps of qi, equaling 3.2 strands of true qi.
...
Three months later, Luo Feng had diligently accumulated 288 strands of true qi.
“Die!”
In the courtyard, Luo Feng strode with the steps of the Big Dipper, his fists cutting through the air with a fierce wind, and struck out with force!
With a great rustle, the tree before him obligingly shed leaves all over the ground, and a fist mark appeared on the bark, testifying to the blow.
“No wonder it’s called a basic breathing technique,” Luo Feng muttered, resigned to reality.
The basic breathing technique was excellent for health, vitality, and even beauty. After three months, his skin was like jade, his body light, and his breathing smooth.
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However, its offensive power was true to its name—basic!
Despite his diligent efforts to accumulate 288 strands of true qi and reach the third layer of the breathing technique, Luo Feng could not even break a tree; at best, he could stir a gust of wind.
By contrast, Zheng Zha, with a single fire talisman, could burn a gaping hole in something.
Luo Feng could not help but feel envy, jealousy, and resentment!
The days drifted by like idle clouds and tranquil reflections; seasons changed as the world turned.
Having settled in Yangjia Village for some time, Luo Feng gradually adapted to the life of a small mountain village amid his leisurely days.
The people here were honest and simple, the villagers were all talented in their own way, and their words pleasant to hear.
Compared to modern life, there were no air conditioners, no hotpot, no chilled drinks, no soda, no mobile phones, no computers, and no silly internet memes...
Life here was truly inhuman, as one homebody remarked.
Fortunately, there was the breathing technique. After all, refining a warm current of qi was quite fun, and it was good for the health.
Another peaceful day dawned. Early in the morning, as sunlight poured in, Zheng Zha knocked on Luo Feng’s wooden door.
“Come in, the door’s not locked,” Luo Feng called out as he washed up.
“You make it sound like you’re inviting customers, fairy maiden,” Zheng Zha said with a grin, pushing open the door.
“Get lost, you fool!”
Luo Feng wiped his face and, in annoyance, splashed a basin of water at him, then scolded, “What are you doing here so early in the morning, looking for your father?”
Quickly drawing a talisman, Zheng Zha condensed the water into a ball and tossed it away, sighing theatrically, “There are always sons who want to be fathers!”
Luo Feng sneered, “Old Wang next door told me everything. He only stepped in because you couldn’t do it yourself!”
Zheng Zha was momentarily speechless. After all, he had crossed over earlier; it was still 2007 on Earth, so there were fewer silly netizens and fewer witty retorts.
“What do you want?” Luo Feng asked casually as he set a bowl of porridge before Zheng Zha. “You’re not usually an early riser.”
Luo Feng had to perform breathing and refining qi, which required early hours to absorb the pure energy of heaven and earth, while Zheng Zha’s talisman drawing and meditation were best suited to the night, borrowing the power of the moon.
Zheng Zha’s expression became serious. “I have a real matter to discuss. Do you remember the pawnshop?”
Luo Feng’s head snapped up, his body leaning back as he set down his porridge and narrowed his eyes. “Why bring that up?!”
“That black-hearted shop swindled our things and even tried to kill you.”
Zheng Zha rubbed his fists eagerly. “As the sages say, repay resentment with justice, and virtue with virtue. It’s time to make them pay!”
Luo Feng frowned. “And how do you plan to take revenge?”
“Of course, we go and confront them directly!” Zheng Zha replied, as if it were obvious.
Luo Feng nearly spat out his porridge in exasperation. “Are you crazy? We’re both fragile as glass right now—how are we supposed to fight them?”
“What if they have guns?”
Zheng Zha was stunned. Having mastered the power of talismans, he looked down on an ordinary pawnshop and acted on impulse, not considering the possibility of firearms.
Luo Feng spoke earnestly, “This isn’t ancient times but the modern era. There are guns and cannons; the times have changed!”
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Technology is advancing, the era is progressing, and this society has hot weapons!
Even ordinary people, armed with firearms, could challenge supernatural power.
Zheng Zha protested, “Are we just going to let them go? A gentleman does not let a grudge go unavenged. What if they don’t have guns?!”
Luo Feng rubbed his temples, pondering for a moment. “A gentleman’s revenge is never too late, even after ten years. Why not wait until we’ve mastered our arts—our bodies indestructible, our martial prowess unrivaled—then go seek vengeance?”
Back on Earth, he once came across a scripture compiled by sages.
“Do not be arrogant, do not be timid, steady in all things, and you shall find peace.”
These were words of the Great Dao, and Luo Feng admired them greatly.
Unfortunately, no matter how he searched online or in books, he could not find the name of the sage who wrote them.
Zheng Zha stared blankly at Luo Feng, as if seeing a Voldemort.
“Heh.”
Luo Feng chuckled awkwardly, realizing that ten years might be a bit too long.
“How about we go scout for information tonight instead?”
“As the saying goes, know yourself and know your enemy, and you will never be defeated!”
“I think that works,” Zheng Zha nodded after a moment’s thought.
As he watched Zheng Zha’s departing figure, Luo Feng muttered, “This isn’t cowardice—it’s caution...”
He was kind, but not a pushover; a homebody, not a fool.
He would never let those who showed him malice off the hook, but caution must always come first!
After all, one only has one life—no amount of caution is too much.
Even the slightest chance of danger was not worth the risk!
Night fell, the moon bright and stars sparse.
The two of them slipped quietly into the county town under cover of darkness, heading to the pawnshop to investigate.
The pawnshop was square, with a main hall in front and a private courtyard behind.
They were preparing to climb over the wall when Luo Feng’s expression suddenly changed—he noticed more than a dozen burly men guarding the back courtyard, which made no sense.
Why would a small shop have guards at night? Clearly, something unusual was afoot.
With a wave of his hand, the two of them crept onto the rooftop to eavesdrop. Inside, there were two people.
One, Luo Feng had never seen before; the other was the pawnshop manager, whom he recognized.
“Boss, this year’s goods are all stored in the woodshed,” the manager said obsequiously.
“No need for you to come all this way in person.”
“You know nothing!” came a commanding voice. Seated at the head was a middle-aged, horse-faced man—the “boss” the manager referred to.
“These little treasures must be handled personally to bring me joy,” the boss said with a sly grin.
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(End of Chapter)