Chapter 5: The Celestial Merit Record

The Fang Residence was the grandest manor in Willow Lake City, guarded by two stone lions at its entrance.

One tilted its head; one grinned with its mouth wide open!

When the locals of Willow Lake City saw them, they’d say the Fang Family’s Second Young Master was silly, and that these two stone lions were just as silly.

Young ladies or married women walking past the Fang Manor would often feel like the lions were staring at them with ill intentions.

Yet countless people sneaked up to touch them at night, confirming they were just ordinary stone statues, not alive.

But when Fang Cun placed the inkstone on the top left corner of his writing desk, something about those lions seemed to shift subtly. At first glance, they remained the same, their heads tilted and grinning foolishly. But the grand manor behind them changed faintly as well.

The manor was physically unchanged, yet it felt slightly unreal.

Right at that moment, Fang Cun had already walked into the courtyard holding an umbrella.

…

The umbrella was a very ordinary-looking, old thing. Its canopy was made of black oilcloth, its handle of dark wutong wood. Marked by neither pattern nor decoration, it looked ancient and worn. Only the handle was carved with crisscrossing lines.

Each line represented a demon or a Demonic Cultivator Fang Cun had eliminated. From the age of fourteen, he’d roamed Willow Lake City searching for demons hiding among humans. He’d then either hired killers or used secretive methods of his own to send these evil entities to their doom. Strictly speaking, hardly any died directly by his hand, yet all died because of him.

Slaying demons and saving people generated Merit.

This umbrella was one possessing endless amounts of such Merit.

Ka-ka-ka…

Crimson thunderclaps rained down endlessly, striking against the black umbrella before scattering harmlessly into the air.

This utterly unremarkable, ragged old umbrella could actually withstand the divine lightning.

Or rather, it wasn’t the umbrella itself stopping the thunder, but the accumulated Merit upon it.

Fang Cun could feel it—with each crash of thunder, something intangible was dissipating from the umbrella. As it faded, it shielded him from these bizarre bolts of crimson lightning that seemed saturated with endless destruction, strangeness, chaos, and madness. They annihilated each other…

The scene was so dreamlike and unreal Fang Cun couldn’t tell if he was awake or dreaming, only that he felt trapped in a nightmare.

The relentless thunder seemed endless. He did not know when the dream would end.

“Heaven offers no justice, yet I know my own good and evil!”

Fortunately, just as Fang Cun felt his mind was about to shatter and his skull split apart, the dark crimson thunder raining from above began weakening. Beneath the endless barrage, high in the sky, a gigantic scroll unfurled. It was so immense it seemed capable of enveloping the entire world. Names or perhaps records were inscribed densely upon it in fierce script, radiating boundless, terrifying might.

Fang Cun strained to look upwards, trying to read the words on the scroll.

Yet, with just that single glance, he could only make out the words at its very top: “The Heavenly Path is vast; My own Path shall not walk alone!”

The moment his eyes managed to grasp those eight characters, the colossal scroll descended.

In that instant, it seemed the sky itself was collapsing, bearing down directly upon Fang Cun’s head.

The crushing weight felt destined to smash him into dust!

…

“Huh…”

Fang Cun suddenly awoke. He found himself still in his study, the old umbrella only just lifted into his hand.

“What was that just now…”

The memory of the hallucination he’d experienced moments before left him feeling breathless.

“Could it really all have been just a dream?”

An intensely strange feeling washed over him. But the moment this thought surfaced, darkness flooded his vision once more. It was like gazing into the deepest, most unfathomable part of the night. Yet, within this complete blackness, a scroll slowly materialized. Silently unfurling within the dark void, one after another, ancient, powerful characters bloomed upon its surface.

Celestial Merit Record

Fang Cun of Willow Lake, Innate Qi: Two Cun, Nine Fen, Eight Li.

Next came the words Merit. Following “Merit,” smaller characters began to slowly manifest.

Six Thousand Thoughts!

This number of Six Thousand Thoughts, however, had already begun to dwindle, finally stabilizing at Three Thousand Thoughts.

“This is…”

Fang Cun was momentarily stunned. Then, countless ideas and realizations seemed to rise unbidden within his mind.

These comprehensions felt as if they radiated directly from the scroll, flowing actively into his consciousness. It was a very strange sensation. As these understandings settled into his mind and melted into his thoughts, he naturally grasped many things, the knowledge imprinting itself deeply into his very being…

The Celestial Merit Record…

Convert Merit… Alter Karma…

…

“So… this is Elder Brother’s Golden Finger?”

Subtle expressions flickered across Fang Cun’s face.

His elder brother had truly hidden his greatest secret within this letter!

Finally, Fang Cun understood why his brother had been so insistent in his letters, commanding him—a fourteen-year-old barely past childhood—to slay demons and be benevolent towards others!

So, he had been preparing long ago to pass on this secret.

So, to inherit this Celestial Merit Record wasn’t just about reciting those eight secret words repeatedly; one had to survive this bizarre, terrifying trial as well.

Without the Merit amassed through his years of secretly doing this work, he might very well have been struck dead by that terrifying thunder!

Focusing his mind on the words Merit, he could even see where each point of it had come from.

White Demon Creek’s Three Fiends, South of Willow Lake City – Accounted for Fifteen Hundred Thoughts.

The Great Bandit Liu Xuan of Crimson Grave Ridge – Accounted for Four Hundred Thoughts.

The Northern Palace Demonic Cultivator, Zheng Lin – Accounted for Twelve Hundred Thoughts!

…

These were the demons Fang Cun had schemed to destroy.

He had conducted all these deeds in utter secrecy.

The people of Willow Lake City simply knew that these menacing local scourges had been eliminated; none knew Fang Family’s Second Young Master had anything to do with it.

A saying from a past life claimed that doing good deeds, even if no one knew, accumulated hidden virtue, which brought blessings later.

Evil deeds, even if hidden from everyone, eroded that hidden virtue and invited eventual punishment.

It often sounded more like a comforting lie; he’d seen too many good people die young while evil ones prospered for a thousand years.

Who could have imagined that in this world, such a treasure truly existed—one that could translate his actions into quantifiable Merit, displayed plainly on this strange scroll like some divine ledger?

Moments before, it was precisely this accumulated Merit that shielded him from the crimson thunder, allowed him to pass the trial, and permitted him to inherit this Celestial Merit Record.

This was why he could possess it.

Anyone else might uncover the secret within the letter but would never withstand the trial.

Perhaps those without sufficient Merit wouldn’t even be able to perceive the clue within the letter itself.

Fang Cun wasn’t quite sure of the exact mechanisms. He only understood that his elder brother had sent this particular letter deliberately, hiding its profound secret within. Furthermore, triggering this secret required enduring such a terrifying ordeal. His brother must have meticulously planned for every contingency.

“Fang Chi, ah Fang Chi… So this was the secret of your genius, my prodigious elder brother…”

After a long silence, Fang Cun stirred. The darkness before his eyes dissipated, and the vanished scroll disappeared. He remained seated, still holding onto the scroll, dazed as if nothing had transpired. Only turbulent waves surged within his chest, countless thoughts crashing and rising: “Three years ago, you started pushing your barely fourteen-year-old younger brother to destroy those fierce, monstrous demons… Just for this?”

“You pre-arranged my demon-hunting tasks long in advance, wrote this letter just before entering the Desolate Wasteland, concealing such a profound mechanism within it…”

“Was it because you already knew you wouldn’t return?”

…

Through these carefully laid foundations, Fang Cun glimpsed a fragment of his brother’s experience.

Suddenly, another insight struck him with cold clarity: perhaps his brother had foreseen his own demise long before!

But if he saw it coming, why didn’t he attempt to avert it?

Even I know to prepare safety nets when I can; with your level of cultivation, surely avoiding misfortune should have been possible?

He shook his head helplessly, temporarily sinking into a daze.

…

“Innate Qi: Two Cun, Nine Fen, Eight Li… So this was my natural aptitude?”

That afternoon, Fang Cun did not reread that letter. He locked it away securely in his desk drawer. Gripping his head briefly as a pang of grief hit him, he went to comfort his grieving parents, then instructed the steward to begin preparations for his elder brother’s funeral arrangements. Throughout this, he remained calm and composed, betraying no outward sign of his internal turmoil.

Only when deep night settled did he finally return to his bed. Lying down, he closed his eyes, resuming his exploration of the Celestial Merit Record.

Contemplating the value displayed for his Innate Qi, his curiosity stirred once more.

Previously, he’d only crudely estimated it using primitive methods like breath-holding while running. He had never known the precise measurement.

Now, this Celestial Merit Record plainly revealed it…

Two Cun, Nine Fen, Eight Li. Merely two li short of the admission standard of White Xiang Academy – truly underwhelming…

Of course, that was before.

But now, since he possessed the Celestial Merit Record…

Savoring the insights the Celestial Merit Record had poured into his consciousness earlier, a clear realization dawned. Deliberately, he extended a finger, pointing it towards the empty air. However, the true intent was to point directly towards the figures displayed on the Merit Tome visible only to his inner eye.

Consume my Merit to mend my innate self…

He mentally recited the command as his fingertip lightly brushed against the number.

Immediately, he saw the number Three Thousand Thoughts shift downwards, transforming into Two Thousand Seven Hundred Thoughts.

Simultaneously, his own Innate Qi value shimmered and leapt upwards – from Two Cun, Nine Fen, Eight Li to Three Cun, Zero Fen, One Li.

Fang Cun blinked, instinctively trying to calculate the exchange rate of this conversion when an icy energy flowed into his body between his brows. Within a heartbeat, this coolness transformed into a torrent of warmth, spreading rapidly through his veins. It surged within his blood, rushing through every limb and vessel in moments. Every pore on his body seemed wide open, greedily exchanging energy with the ambient Qi of the world.

The sensation was indescribable.

It was like chugging ten cans of ‘Red Bull’ in one go, or soaking in a hot spring at a perfect body temperature.

“So this is the feeling of altering one’s own Innate Qi?”

Fang Cun himself was stunned. “Like a frail man in his fifties suddenly rejuvenating into the peak physique of a nineteen-year-old youth…”

An uncontrollable surge of excitement surged through him.

He understood exactly what this seemingly minuscule change signified.

The Innate Qi, something Qi Refiners believed was utterly immutable and unchangeable since birth, could now be easily elevated!