The Path of the Martial Arts BOSS

After fresh rain on the barren mountain, the weather brought the autumn late in the day. After the rain, Beicang Mountain's air was exceptionally fresh.

Time had slipped into the afternoon, and at a mid-mountain path, within a small Taoist Temple, Qing Yu opened the window to gaze at the few pine trees still dripping with rain, drawing a deep breath of the clean air.

Catching a few droplets of water dripping from the eaves outside the window in his hand, Qing Yu murmured, "It's already been ten years." His words carried strands of vicissitude unbecoming of his current age.

Although he had come to this world, which still felt very strange to him, fifteen years ago, Qing Yu couldn't forget that blue planet. On that planet, Qing Yu had lived through trials and tribulations for over thirty years, finally scraping together a livelihood, yet before he could begin the life he always dreamed of, he was stricken by illness. Various chronic conditions accumulated from years of hardship erupted all at once, and after struggling on his sickbed for several days, Qing Yu passed away.

Qing Yu had thought he would just die like this, never expecting to wake up as if from a nightmare. When he opened his eyes again, he found himself in the snowy town, fallen in the street corner as a small beggar. The poor beggar had barely survived the harsh winter, only to collapse from the sudden drop in temperature after the snow had stopped.

Qing Yu didn't know whether he was reborn through body seizing or whether that collapse had awakened memories of reincarnation. Back then, all Qing Yu knew was the desperate need to survive. The thirst for life during his second chance was beyond any ordinary person's imagination. Begging along the street, being chased by other beggars for not joining any groups, competing with stray dogs for food, Qing Yu tried everything, just to stay alive.

Lady Luck finally smiled upon Qing Yu in his tenth year, when a master from the True Martial Dao took him in. The master brought him to Zhenwu Mountain, accepted him as a disciple, and gave him the Daoist name Qing Yu. Thus, Qing Yu finally had a new name. When he was a beggar, the other beggars had called him a mongrel, to the point where Qing Yu even wondered if he had turned into Shi Potian.

As it turned out, Lady Luck had only favored Qing Yu for a minute. After becoming an apprentice, Qing Yu, who had thought his fortunes were finally turning around, dreamed of learning peerless martial arts and reaching the pinnacle of life. However, after accepting him, his master threw him aside to compete for the position of Sect Leader of the True Martial Dao. It turned out that taking in Qing Yu was just a show to enhance his reputation in the struggle for the sect leadership. Without Qing Yu, there would be another beggar child taken as a disciple, who might also be named Qing Yu.

With no other choice, Qing Yu could only console himself: if his master succeeded, he would be the Sect Leader's disciple; but even if his master failed, the True Martial Dao was still a righteous sect. Surely one doesn't die just because of failing to become Sect Leader.

By the way, Qing Yu's master had the Daoist name Xuanfa, and he was a man with a lot of ideas; otherwise, he wouldn't have come up with the strategy to take in a pitiful little beggar to boost his prestige. Xuanfa did have ideas indeed, but after failing to secure the sect leadership, he plotted to seize power by force, gathering a clique to stage a coup. Alas, having ideas is one thing, and having the force to back them up is another. Defeated by the new Sect Leader, Xuanfa lost hope and took his own life. Several of Qing Yu's senior brothers and sisters whose names he didn't even know also died, even earlier than their master, their deaths unknown at the hands of which fellow sect members.

As a result, Xuanfa's lineage was left with only Qing Yu, who had just begun his entry-level training. What to do with Qing Yu became a dilemma for the newly appointed Sect Leader. To eradicate thoroughly was one option, but the True Martial Dao was not a demon sect and couldn't cultivate such ruthless actions. Furthermore, Xuanfa had left some followers who were wooed over after his death. Those who could be influenced by Xuanfa to assist him in the struggle for the leadership were no small fish. These individuals had their own status within the True Martial Dao, and if Xuanfa's lineage was directly eradicated, they would surely anticipate retribution from the Sect Leader. Yet keeping Qing Yu was also problematic. Just looking at him was irritating, not to mention the possibility of him gathering Xuanfa's former followers to cause trouble in the future on Zhenwu Mountain.

After a year of debate, they finally came up with a solution that was not much of a solution: they decided to send Qing Yu to a subordinate Taoist Temple to oversee the incense offerings. Thus, Qing Yu, who had been idle for a year, was sent to this remote and desolate little temple in the mountains. The temple was so dilapidated that its nameplate was unreadable, and who knows how the Sect Leader even knew it belonged to the True Martial Dao Sect. Moreover, although Qing Yu had been with the Zhenwu Sect for over a year, he hadn't even learned the entry-level cultivation method, and claiming he was the temple master of a True Martial Dao Sect temple was hardly believable to anyone.

And so, Qing Yu settled down in the Wuming Taoist Temple. In his past life, he was an adult, and in this life, he had transitioned from a beggar, so he wasn't afraid of starving to death. Probably not fully at ease, the Sect Leader left someone at the foot of the mountain to observe, while Qing Yu never left the temple, planting his own vegetables and prematurely starting his retirement life.

He had lived like this for three years—Qing Yu was now fifteen and it had been ten years since that snowy morning. Lately, Qing Yu had grown increasingly restless. No matter his mental age, he was still young at heart, and the invisible cage firmly fixed him within the small Taoist Temple. An Observer perhaps existed at the foot of the mountain, having monitored him for three years; the new Sect Leader should be at ease by now. If Qing Yu wanted to leave the mountain, he could do so at any time. But what was the point of leaving? With his past experiences as a beggar, Qing Yu knew the world outside the mountain was not peaceful, and being utterly powerless, would he continue to beg if he went down the mountain?

With these thoughts, Qing Yu suddenly clenched his fists in frustration.

" Ding, adaptation to the current world's laws complete. System loading in progress: 10%, 30%, 60%, 100%, loading complete. Host, welcome to the use of the Great Martial Arts Inheritance System," a voice suddenly echoed in Qing Yu's mind.