Chapter Seven: Could It Be That the Powers Haven't Disappeared?

Lei Yan quickly moved to the corner of the wall and tapped a few times against the surface.

With a series of strange clicks, the wall slowly slid apart from the center, revealing a hidden passageway before him.

“Come with me,” Lei Yan said, leading the way into the corridor without hesitation, and Lei Yan followed close behind.

“I’m not sure if Lei Tiechuan mentioned the rules to you or not, but every descendant of our Lei family is allowed only three entries into the library. Use your chances wisely,” Lei Yan explained as they walked.

Lei Yan couldn’t quite understand. Since these books belonged to the Lei family, why were the descendants only allowed three visits to the library? He asked, “Why do the Lei family descendants only get three chances?”

“You see, our Lei family’s library is vast and contains all kinds of knowledge—enough to drive any martial artist mad with desire. If our family’s descendants could come and go freely, do you think the books would remain safe?” Lei Yan sighed.

Lei Yan found this explanation reasonable. Even leaving aside the possibility of traitors stealing secrets, if the secret room could be entered and exited at will, secrecy would be impossible. Once the news leaked, martial artists would surely come in droves to seize the treasures. Still, what kind of library could make martial artists so frenzied? Lei Yan’s curiosity grew with each step.

Soon, Lei Yan followed Lei Yan to another wall, which was particularly peculiar. The entire wall was shaped like a Bagua diagram, with the centers of the yin and yang fishes each containing a recess. The recess in the yin fish was already occupied by a green jade pendant, while the yang fish’s slot remained empty. On the wall adjacent to the Bagua, rows of similar green jade pendants were hung, some with a nameplate attached below.

Noticing that the nameplates all bore names, Lei Yan quickly realized these pendants had belonged to his ancestors. Seeing so many, as countless as stars in the sky, Lei Yan couldn’t help but wonder just how long the Lei family’s library had existed.

As if confirming his thoughts, Lei Yan remarked, “All these pendants were used by your elders. I was just as surprised as you when I first saw them!” He then took a jade pendant from the wall and handed it to Lei Yan. “This one’s yours.” He also took out a wooden nameplate and wrote Lei Yan’s name on it.

Just as Lei Yan was about to place the pendant into the yang fish’s slot, Lei Yan hastily stopped him. “The pendant won’t work unless it’s activated with Lei family blood! Otherwise, the Bagua and the outer Nine Palaces will form an annihilation array. Also, these pendants seem to remember their user—after three uses, they’ll never open the library again. That’s why the three-entry rule exists.”

“So, it’s really the pendant that enforces the rule,” Lei Yan muttered, shaking his head. Without further hesitation, he bit his finger and let a drop of blood fall onto the jade. The pendant flashed green, and the blood was absorbed.

With a click, Lei Yan placed the pendant in the slot and gave it a gentle twist.

A deep rumble resounded as the Bagua wall slowly split apart at the intersection of the yin and yang fishes.

“No need to remove the pendant yourself. I’ll take care of it when you leave. As long as you remain within the complex, you can freely enter and exit the library,” Lei Yan said with a smile.

Lei Yan nodded and stepped inside.

“It’s enormous!” Lei Yan’s eyes lit up as he entered. Shelves lined the hundred-meter-wide chamber, filled with books of all shapes and sizes. Beyond this room, his eyes could make out at least two more chambers, both packed with shelves.

“It can rival the great libraries of my previous life,” Lei Yan thought, but he didn’t pause, searching the labeled shelves for medical books to better understand his own condition.

“Medical books… There!” He pulled a volume from the lowest shelf—his own height meant he had to start from the bottom. He’d fetch a stool or ladder for the higher shelves later. But when he opened the book, he was dumbfounded: the text was written vertically, and many characters were unfamiliar. He could guess at some, but entire passages were impossible to decipher by guesswork alone. With no other choice, he began to study both the books and the characters with Lei Yan’s help.

Time flew by, and nearly a year passed since Lei Yan’s arrival in the library. In that time, he’d browsed almost every medical book, learning much about the Nine Yang Body and his meridian atrophy, though he found no mention of a cure.

One morning, after breakfast, Lei Yan perused some miscellaneous records, hoping legends might mention what the medical texts did not. Flipping open a volume of Miscellaneous Records of the Nine Dragons, a passage caught his eye:

“It’s said that nine dragons once traveled the mortal world, passing by an erupting volcano. Seeing countless innocents perish in the lava, the dragons, moved by compassion, each offered a drop of their essence blood. Fused together, the blood became a giant stone that sealed the volcano. To show their gratitude, the locals worshipped the stone as a deity. Strangely, anyone who prayed there was healed, no matter how ill—even the dying returned cured. News of the Nine Dragon Stone spread, and powerful families, martial artists, and cultivators all sought to claim it. Yet, when they tried, the stone vanished into thin air before their eyes.”

“Nine Dragon Stone? Perhaps there is hope for me after all,” Lei Yan murmured, a faint smile appearing. Even if it was only legend, it gave him hope.

“Since there’s hope, I should also see if I can memorize any martial arts techniques.” Lei Yan decided to commit to memory whatever skills he could.

“External arts? I’ll have to give those up,” he laughed wryly. Such martial skills demanded too much physically—impossible for someone unable to engage in vigorous exercise.

“All that remains is to see if there’s an internal art suitable for me.” He reached for the nearest manual, Blazing Fire Palm.

“According to this, the first step is to focus on the dantian until you sense the presence of qi, then proceed further.” Lei Yan closed his eyes and followed the instructions carefully.

An hour passed…

Two hours…

Half a day…

No matter how hard he concentrated, Lei Yan felt nothing like the ‘qi sense’ described in the book. Frowning, he read further and noticed a note: “Geniuses may sense qi in an hour; those less gifted may need several days.”

“Perhaps my aptitude is poor,” he laughed helplessly.

Three days later, he was still at it. At last, a faint warmth stirred in his dantian. Following the book’s instructions, he tried to move the qi along the prescribed meridians, but the moment he began, stabbing pain radiated through his body.

“This method won’t work for me!” Lei Yan sighed in frustration. His atrophied meridians simply couldn’t channel the qi.

“Qi in the dantian can’t move… can’t move…” he muttered, and suddenly, inspiration struck. He hurried to the medical section and pulled a book from the lowest shelf.

“This is it!” Flipping through the pages, he read: “There is nowhere qi cannot gather; every part of the human body can serve as a dantian…”

“If every part of the body can be a dantian, I can treat my whole self as the dantian. Focusing on the dantian means focusing on myself!” Energized, Lei Yan sat down, concentrating on his entire body, imagining himself as one great dantian.

Time slipped by, and after several hours, Lei Yan sensed a tiny blue light flickering at his brow, the size of a grain of rice. Shocked, he realized the feeling was strikingly familiar. “Could it be… my supernatural ability hasn’t disappeared after all?”