Chapter 44: What a Remarkable Figure

Xie An found the voice very familiar. Turning around, he saw that the newcomer was Head Deacon Lin Yun.

A head deacon, as the name implied, was the leader among the various deacons under a branch leader. His status was equivalent to that of a deputy branch leader, albeit without the official title.

The doorman clearly recognized Lin Yun and immediately flashed a flattering smile. "Ah, Deacon Lin is here."

Lin Yun gave a slight nod, took out ten taels of silver, and handed them to the doorman. "I'm taking them up to the third floor. Is that permissible?"

Accepting the silver, the doorman chuckled and said, "With Deacon Lin vouching for them, of course it is. However, the borrowing fee cannot be waived."

"That goes without saying."

Lin Yun dismissed the doorman, then turned to Xie An and Zhang Lin. "Follow me."

Compared to the noisy and bustling first and second floors, the third floor was much quieter. Hardly a soul was to be seen.

Anyone qualified to come here had to be at least a head deacon under one of the branch leaders.

Although the White Feather Hall had three hundred members, there were only four branch leaders in total, each assigned one head deacon, making eight in all. Adding the hall master, the two deputy hall masters, and a few other special positions, it was clear that fewer than a dozen people in total were qualified to step onto the third floor.

Zhang Lin, following closely behind Lin Yun, patted Xie An on the arm and whispered, "Old brother, we're in luck today. I've never even been to this place before. It's said that what's stored here are all the superior martial arts of our hall, and even some from the headquarters of the Fierce Tiger Sect."

Hearing this, Xie An felt a surge of anticipation.

Although Xie An had never practiced martial arts, relying on his Longevity Skill alone, he was already no less capable than a martial artist in the initial stage of the Bronze Skin Realm. Naturally, he had little interest in ordinary martial arts.

To encounter Wei Dian's severe injury on his very first visit to the hall, and subsequently receive preferential treatment from Lin Yun... he felt his luck was running rather good.

Yet this only made him more certain of his earlier guess: Wei Dian was gravely injured, which was why he deliberately bestowed favor upon his subordinates.

Soon, Lin Yun led the two men to rows of bookshelves. "Have a look around yourselves and find whatever you want to learn. If there's anything you don't understand, you can ask me at any time."

"Many thanks, Deacon Lin."

Xie An cupped his hands in gratitude before walking over to the bookshelves to browse through the martial arts manuals.

Half a year ago, Xie An had harbored the intention of practicing martial arts, but constrained by an empty purse, he had never found the right opportunity. Now that he could finally access martial arts, his heart was naturally thrilled.

The collection of books on the third floor was far less than that of the lower two floors. There were only three bookshelves in total, holding barely a hundred books altogether. Xie An casually flipped through a few; they were all notes—essentially martial arts insights left behind by predecessors.

Such materials were generally useful only to martial artists who had already mastered the basics of martial arts mental techniques.

For an outsider like Xie An, who hadn't even crossed the threshold of martial arts, they were naturally completely useless.

Yet, driven by a yearning for martial arts, Xie An felt like a three-year-old child who had just stepped into kindergarten, filled with novelty and curiosity about everything recorded in the notes.

He roughly leafed through a few journals. Most of them recorded the insights and processes of practicing martial arts. Since Xie An had never practiced the corresponding martial arts, reading them felt completely disconnected, like gazing at heavenly scripts, and he was repeatedly turned away.

Finally, one particular journal caught Xie An's interest.

It was written by a saber practitioner named "Meng Hu," detailing Meng Hu's lifelong insights into practicing saber techniques.

Putting aside how formidable his saber techniques might be, Meng Hu's life experiences alone resonated with Xie An: He lost his father at age nine, his mother at age ten, leaving the family with no surplus wealth, and he had to care for his six-year-old youngest sister. Making a living was arduous, and eventually, to keep his sister alive, Meng Hu sold himself to bandits.

He played a battle of wits and courage in the bandit lair for three years, and then another three years... until finally, he seized an opportunity to become an apprentice.

This section was quite lengthy.

Rather than a journal on practicing the saber, it read more like an inspirational life story.

Between the lines, Meng Hu's defiance against harsh reality shone through, exuding a strong, defiant aura.

Admittedly, Xie An knew this must have been embellished. Much like a successful person writing their own autobiography, they would heavily emphasize and romanticize the inspirational aspects of their destitute days, showcasing the victor's struggle against fate, their eventual triumph, and so on.

Yet Xie An believed that those so-called successful people must have also been filled with hesitation and anxiety about the future when they were in such environments. Undeniably, such people were superior and ultimately stood out from the crowd.

If he himself were to become a generation's hero one day, he would undoubtedly describe how inspiring and unyielding he was while working as a servant in the Li residence. If he failed to become a hero, he would simply treat the matter as if it had never happened...

After reading a third of the journal, Meng Hu finally began recording events after his apprenticeship: learning saber techniques.

The technique was named "Heavy Mountain Saber"!

To practice the heavy saber, Meng Hu deliberately spent ten years cultivating external hardening exercises to build up his vital energy and physical strength. Then, he spent twenty years cultivating the Longevity Skill to sustain his vital energy and maintain endurance without declining.

Through thirty painstaking years of grueling preparation, Meng Hu finally began practicing the Heavy Mountain Saber.

Three years to achieve minor mastery, five years for major mastery.

In the end, he broke through to become a martial master, carving out a formidable reputation in the jianghu as the "Demon Tiger."

Reading to the end, Xie An could not help but be moved, secretly admiring him in his heart: "This Meng Hu has truly extraordinary willpower, spending thirty years preparing just to practice the saber. And achieving major mastery in the final eight years, dominating the jianghu. He can be considered a late bloomer. It actually aligns somewhat with my own style. A heavy saber... a very heavy saber, which also suits my Longevity Skill."

Perhaps because Xie An had once felt he should practice the saber, or perhaps because he was infected by Meng Hu's willpower, Xie An developed a strong interest in this "Heavy Mountain Saber Technique."

One must know that not only was Meng Hu a late bloomer, but he had also stepped into the realm of a martial master precisely by relying on the Heavy Mountain Saber.

Breaking through five gates and cultivating internal force—only then could one be considered a martial master.

This was a truly remarkable achievement.

Although Xie An was not very familiar with the martial arts landscape of Qingwu County, he imagined that... there were probably very few martial masters in the entire Qingwu County. Every single martial master was a titan who dominated a vast region.

Even the magistrate himself would have to cup his hands and bow upon meeting one.

"Old brother, have you chosen yours yet?"

Zhang Lin approached at this moment.

Looking up, Xie An saw that Zhang Lin was holding a manual with a look of utter satisfaction on his face, indicating that he had already made his choice.

Picking up Meng Hu's journal, Xie An said, "Yes, I've chosen."

梧 "Then let's go report to Deacon Lin, and he will uniformly register them for borrowing."

"Alright."

The two men handed their respective manuals to Lin Yun.

Lin Yun took the manual from Zhang Lin's hand and casually flipped through it. "This breathing technique indeed suits you; it internally nourishes your vital energy and blood. If practiced persistently, it can slow down the aging of muscles and bones. Are you certain you want to borrow this manual?"

Although Lin Yun spoke thus, Xie An noticed a trace of imperceptible disappointment flash in his eyes. He guessed that Lin Yun still hoped Zhang Lin would practice martial arts and harbor greater ambitions to strive forward, rather than solely thinking about delaying aging...

After all, Wei Dian was nearing his end; if his subordinates still lacked the drive to fight and struggle, what hope was there left?

Overcome with excitement, Zhang Lin clearly missed Lin Yun's expression and happily replied, "Certain. I must ask Deacon Lin for assistance."

Ultimately, Lin Yun said nothing more and nodded. "Very well, I will help you borrow it."

Promptly, Lin Yun opened Xie An's journal, and a look of distinct astonishment immediately filled his gaze. "You want to borrow this journal?"

Xie An felt somewhat apprehensive under Lin Yun's gaze. "Yes."

Hesitating for a moment, Lin Yun returned the journal to Xie An and gave a solemn warning, "The difficulty of practicing this saber technique is far too great. It is not suitable for you. Go pick another one. If you don't understand saber techniques, you can ask me."

Xie An grew even more uneasy and couldn't help asking, "Deacon Lin, is there something wrong with this saber technique?"

Inspecting Xie An closely, Lin Yun finally revealed the reason. "Throughout the entire Fierce Tiger Sect over the past thirty years, the number of people who could successfully master the Heavy Mountain Saber Technique can be counted on one hand. Do you have any idea what kind of person Meng Hu, who wrote this journal, was?"

"Please enlighten me, Deacon Lin." Xie An genuinely had no idea what kind of figure Meng Hu was.