Chapter 28: Internal Power
Chapter 28: Internal Power
“Lost?”
The welcoming monk, who’d assumed this would be a mere formality, froze. His gaze toward Zuo Meng shifted immediately. Even he hadn’t clearly seen Zuo Meng’s movements earlier—no wonder Jian Wen had lost so swiftly.
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The surrounding martial monks erupted in murmurs. Jian Wen was their finest. Normally, three monks were needed to spar with him. Yet their strongest had been knocked down instantly by this frail-looking scholar who seemed wholly unsuited for martial arts.
“Your concession is appreciated.”
Zuo Meng didn’t challenge others. Defeating Jian Wen had served his purpose. The Cold Mountain Temple monks would surely seek him out if they had any sense.
“Master Uncle, who is that man?”
After Zuo Meng left, Jie Nian, the martial arts instructor, approached the welcoming monk.
“A patron with secrets.”
The welcoming monk replayed Zuo Meng’s motions mentally, realizing he couldn’t mimic their precision. This was internal power—unfathomable to those unaware of it.
“Jie Nian, inform the literary academy. Have them send someone to meet Benefactor Xue.”
Unable to solve the mystery himself, the welcoming monk delegated. Zuo Meng’s unprovoked challenge surely had deeper motives.
Back in Suzhou, Zuo Meng resumed his quiet life.
His peaceful little shop now had a regular visitor: the girl Zhi Hua.
“Mr. Xue, won’t you introduce me to the master?” She glared at the new landscape painting on the wall. She’d paid a hundred taels for one piece, only for another to appear days later. The artist wasn’t some reclusive genius but a prolific painter—great for fame, bad for her investment.
“No.”
Though acquainted, Zuo Meng remained aloof.
He’d focused on training lately. His creator’s insight accelerated his progress exponentially. At Cold Mountain Temple days prior, he’d possessed nearly three years’ worth of internal energy. Now it neared four—an impossible growth rate for others, achievable only through his grasp of underlying principles.
“Closing soon. You should leave, Miss Zhi Hua.”
Zuo Meng rose to shut the shop.
Time had molded him into a shopkeeper. His mentality had shifted imperceptibly from creator to ordinary person—a necessary tempering. Power’s intoxication had once made him view all beings, from Chaotic Beings to the Dragon Clan, as mere ants beneath heaven’s impartial gaze. This new perspective felt starkly different.
“Tomorrow, Mr. Xue! Introduce me tomorrow! I must learn from the master!” Zhi Hua insisted on her way out.
Her stubbornness amused him. She’d spent fortunes on paintings, so he tolerated her visits.
Days later, visitors arrived.
“Benefactor Xue, we meet again.”
Jie Nian led the group, accompanied by a pale young literary monk—his junior brother Jie Ming.
“Forgive my poor hospitality, honored masters.”
Zuo Meng didn’t bother standing.
“At Cold Mountain Temple, you demonstrated unfamiliar techniques,” Jie Ming blurted without preamble. “I’ve found no records of such skills. Please enlighten me.”
“I am Jie Ming.”
“Master Jie Ming.”
“No ‘master,’” Jie Ming pressed. “Only answers.” Jie Nian coughed pointedly.
“My junior brother grew up isolated on the mountain, studying scriptures. He lacks social graces…”
“It’s fine.”
Zuo Meng studied Jie Ming, noting the dense aura of destiny around him—a Child of Fortune like his real-world teacher Zuo Han Sheng and Junior Sister Zuo Qiu. In the Dream World, such a person was perfect for spreading internal power.
“You’ve read martial texts, Master Jie Ming. Ever heard of internal power?” Zuo Meng pressed his palm to the blue-stone counter—a surface blades scarcely scratched.
Jie Ming watched curiously as Zuo Meng channeled energy. Five fingertips indented the stone.
Jie Ming shot to his feet. Jie Nian tapped the counter, stunned.
“This is internal power!”
Jie Ming’s eyes blazed. Had his body been stronger, he’d have been a martial monk. Current Martial Arts relied on brute strength, leaving the frail behind.
“Teach me, sir.”
Jie Ming’s voice held pure reverence.