Chapter 35: The Heavens-Controlling Art

Fujie Restaurant, undeniably the best restaurant in Xilan City, had for over twenty years been the top choice for the city’s wealthy families for dining and hosting banquets. Nothing lasts forever; given its twenty-year endurance, Kuang Tianwei was certainly no ordinary man.
Anyone who met him would immediately perceive his deep cunning. And indeed, Kuang Tianwei was just that—emotionally reserved and highly scheming. Among all the merchants in Xilan City, he might not be the richest, but when it came to someone no one dared provoke, he was undoubtedly number one. One reason was his scheming nature, but a bigger factor was that he had a group of ruthless and skilled bodyguards.
Apart from the only family in Xilan City, the Liu family, and the county magistrate, no one dared mess with Kuang Tianwei.
Under normal circumstances, at sunset, Kuang Tianwei would already be lying on his delicate concubine, panting heavily. But now, though he was also on her, he was striking repeatedly at her face—once onceuringly beautiful, now somewhat pig-like.
The reason was simply that his concubine was taking too long to change his clothes.
Of course, the real reason was that Kuang Tianwei was extremely annoyed; his concubine was merely a scapegoat.
Kuang Dazhi had been captured, and 2,000 taels of silver were required to ransom him. This news was like a thunderbolt to Kuang Tianwei.
2,000 taels of silver was no small amount—equivalent to most of Fujie Restaurant’s profits in half a year. If it had been one of his six sons, Kuang Tianwei would never have spared such a huge sum; he would have given 180 taels and let things go through the courts.
But Kuang Dazhi was different. Kuang Tianwei had no choice but to pay the ransom. Without him, he couldn’t control the restaurant’s bodyguards. Without those bodyguards, the other restaurant owners in Xilan City, who had been suppressed by Fujie Restaurant for decades, were not fools—they would seize this opportunity to retaliate. Using methods like stealing chefs and causing chaos in other restaurants, Fujie Restaurant would surely face a thousandfold retaliation.
Moreover, Kuang Tianwei knew his nephew well. If he didn’t bring silver to ransom him, it might still be manageable if Kuang Dazhi was killed, but if he escaped alive, not only would he be a failure as an uncle, but even as his own father, he might as well hang himself.
“Prepare a carriage, prepare a carriage…”
Kuang Tianwei finally realized one thing: no matter how reluctant he was, he had to pay. At the very least, he could try to bribe the county magistrate and accuse Linji Inn of kidnapping and extortion to recover some of the money.
He suddenly jumped up from his concubine, hastily threw on his coat, and staggered out of the room.

After obtaining the silver notes, he drove all night to Lin Ji Inn. To Kuang Dazhi’s annoyance, only a clerk met him; the inn’s owner refused even to show up. Yet there were even more things that made Kuang Dazhi furious beyond measure. After bringing the unconscious Kuang Dazhi and the other two back home, they consulted five doctors, all of whom gave remarkably the same answer: superficial injuries could be treated with medicine and would heal in ten to eight days. But a broken leg was harder to treat—the other two would recover slowly over ten to eight months. As for his nephew, his bones had been crushed by a hammer; unless they could find a high-level alchemist as divine as a god, he would never be able to get out of bed again. In Kuang Tianwei’s eyes, a high-level alchemist was on par with a god. Spending 2,000 taels of silver to bring back a cripple made Kuang Tianwei want to storm Lin Ji Inn with a kitchen knife. But he dared not—Kuang Dazhi was a notorious tyrant in Xilan City, capable of crippling even him. Kuang Tianwei didn’t think bringing an extra kitchen knife would make any difference… While some were happy, others were worried. With at least 1,000 taels left from the 2,000 spent, plus the over 2,000 taels earned from Fu Zizhou and the extra money from Jianxin Inn, it was more than enough to repay Bai Jingtai’s 5,000-tael loan. Lin Dong disliked owing money. Now that he had money and no talent for investing it to make more, he naturally decided to pay off his debts first. Early the next morning, Lin Dong went to the bank to exchange all his cash for silver notes, then delivered them to Bai Jingtai. Returning to the backyard, he stopped when he saw the room that used to belong to him. Approaching the door, he hesitated—had he been too hasty by rushing to ask Old Ding about the progress of memorizing the spiritual skill after just one night? “Come in! The door isn’t closed!” came Old Ding’s lazy voice from inside. Delighted, Lin Dong quickly pushed the door open. The room was dim. Old Ding was lying on his back on the bed, his right leg propped high on his left, twitching occasionally. “Um, Old Master Ding…” Lin Dong said cheerfully, “Are you comfortable here? Have you had breakfast?” Old Ding raised his right arm, lifting the wine pot he held tightly. As the spout poured, the liquid formed a perfect arc and flowed into his mouth. When the last drop fell from the tiny spout, he shook his wrist, causing the pot to crash against the corner of the wall. Finding the sound strange, Lin Dong turned to look and saw that there were already eight or nine wine pots piled up in the corner. “Take it!”

A stack of paper sheets flew through the air, the pages fluttering, yet showing no sign of scattering as they settled firmly in Lin Dong’s hands. Looking down, Lin Dong was overjoyed—on the first sheet, several bold, crooked characters stood out vividly: “The Sky-Controlling Art!” Turning to the next sheet, there were again three large black characters—“The Realms of Control!” Further flipping, the text was no longer just a few words but rows of characters: “Yin and Yang energy, following one’s will, sending and receiving, distinguishing inner and outer, energy spreading throughout the six directions, power originating from the ground, exhausting all energy, true and false, solid and void, regulating energy flow, distinguishing inner and outer…” Flipping through further, the last sheet was an acupoint map, with dotted lines outlining the entire energy circulation path. “Elder Ding…” Lin Dong started to speak, but Elder Ding interrupted, “The Sky-Controlling Art is divided into four realms: the Realm of Control, the Realm of Flight, the Realm of Nothingness, and the Realm of Heaven. I’ll slowly draw the mantras and energy circulation diagrams for the other three realms for you.” Lin Dong placed the paper sheets on the mobile counter and asked with a smile, “What level is this Sky-Controlling Art—a spiritual technique of what rank?” “Knew you’d ask that!” Elder Ding replied irritably. “This is the best spiritual technique I’ve kept hidden after decades in the martial world—it’s of the ninth rank!” Lin Dong swallowed hard and asked cautiously, “Can this Sky-Controlling Art be taught to others?” “No!” Elder Ding declared firmly. “It’s a strict rule of our sect—once one masters the Sky-Controlling Art, it defies heaven, and such a person only has ten years left to pass it on.” “How do I know how many years I have left…” Lin Dong said resentfully. “Martial artists can tell by their physical weakness.” “If I die suddenly, won’t this Sky-Controlling Art be lost?” Lin Dong protested. “You can copy it and leave it in the deep mountains,” Elder Ding said indifferently. Lin Dong was still dissatisfied but didn’t know how to respond. “Are you worried I’ll deceive you?” Elder Ding sneered. “I’ve lived for over a hundred years—I wouldn’t deceive you with a low-level spiritual technique. Once you can use it freely in the Realm of Control, you’ll know whether it’s real or fake. As for the other three realms… it depends on whether you have the fate for it. At my age, I’ve only reached the Realm of Nothingness.” If it were true as the old man said, he would only reach the Realm of Nothingness, meaning the Sky-Controlling Art was undoubtedly a ninth-rank spiritual technique. But the question was—who could prove that? Lin Dong was skeptical but had no choice but to trust Elder Ding’s integrity. “How could I doubt Elder Ding’s integrity? If nothing else, shall I go now?” Elder Ding said meaningfully, “I’ve already given you something valuable… a hundred-year-longthyme…”

“There’s really no more 30-year-old Thyme Wine, but I sent someone to Autumn Wind City yesterday to fetch some good wine. You can drink the 10-year-old for now; it won’t take more than ten days before the good wine arrives.”
“What good wine could there be in Autumn Wind City…” Old Ding was slightly disappointed.
“Don’t worry, I guarantee it won’t be any worse than the 30-year-old Thyme Wine.”
Lin Dong was full of confidence. Within Xilan City, Thyme Wine might be the best, but not in Autumn Wind City. As long as Wang Liuzhi brought wine that was as good as Thyme Wine, combined with the enhancements from the Wine King’s formula, he believed Old Ding would once again be willing to risk everything for wine.