area51novel Chapter 49 The Heavenly Record
Chapter 49 The Heavenly Record
2020 AD.
Inside Penglai Island.
Zhou Liuqing lay on the table, her pen tapping the test paper absentmindedly, while her eyes secretly glanced at Haishan by the window.
"Senior Haishan, who are you talking to?"
She lowered her voice and asked her junior brother, her gaze falling on the figure of the handsome man with heterochromatic eyes muttering to himself.
"It's been happening more and more frequently lately."
Do you think he might be trying to look cool?
Duan Xinglian buried himself in writing the exam paper, not saying a word, only pausing slightly with the tip of his pen.
Hai Shan's voice drifted in from the window, tinged with a hint of nonchalance:
"I heard you."
Zhou Liuqing scratched the back of her head and stuck out her tongue shyly.
Hai Shan turned around and walked from the window to the front of the stage.
His gaze fell on the almost blank exam paper in front of Zhou Liuqing, and he raised an eyebrow:
"Huh? You dare to talk while you haven't finished the pop quiz?"
He crossed his arms, his tone carrying an undeniable air of authority:
"You're being punished by being separated from your junior brother for one day."
Saturday Qing was so shocked that she almost jumped off her chair:
"No, I know I was wrong."
Hai Shan nodded indifferently:
"Then hurry up and do the questions."
Zhou Liuqing lowered her head, looking at the exam paper in front of her, which was filled with problems on fluid dynamics, advanced algebra, and even topology, and felt a chill run down her spine.
Just as Zhou Liuqing and Duan Xinglian had hoped, Hai Shan officially began teaching them.
The content of the instruction differed quite a bit from what they had expected.
Whose first lesson for those seeking the Dharma is calculus?
Zhou Liuqing was puzzled. She held up the test paper in her hand and pointed to the problem about integrals on manifolds:
"Aren't we seekers of the Dharma? Why do we need to learn this kind of thing?"
Hai Shan sighed, walked to the table, sat down, and placed his hands on the table:
"It is precisely because you are seekers of the Dharma that you need to learn."
He held out his hand, pointed to a topology problem on the test paper, and explained it in detail:
"This is related to one of my three extraordinary skills."
Zhou Liuqing looked up blankly: "Three Extraordinary Skills? I've never heard of that before?"
Duan Xinglian also looked up curiously: "I've never heard of it either."
Hai Shan crossed his arms, looking smug, his chin slightly raised.
"Of course, the Three Wonders are my Three True Unique Skills."
"Until you pass the test, even your junior sister won't reveal a single word to you."
"Because your knowledge and cultivation reserves are insufficient, practicing it will only destroy your foundation."
Saturday, Qing raised an eyebrow:
"what?"
Do you think the Three True Ones possess such a dangerous skill?
Hai Shan did not answer directly, but looked at Duan Xinglian:
"You've read the diaries of Senior Brother and Junior Brother Haoguang, haven't you?"
Duan Xinglian nodded.
"Then you should know that Brother Haoguang has a special skill."
Zhou Liuqing immediately turned to her junior brother, her face almost touching his nose:
"What special skill? Why didn't you tell me about it?"
Duan Xinglian blushed slightly, leaned back a little, and explained:
"The seal becomes a talisman."
He tried hard to recall the contents of "Haoguang Diary":
"Master Haoguang possesses an utterly unreasonable talent in the art of magic talismans."
Even when he was still in the early stages of his supernatural powers, Master Haoguang could directly mass-produce talismans through printing.
Saturday, Qing's eyes widened: "Printing?"
Hai Shan nodded and added:
"This is Haoguang's most prized technique."
In the future, he may even be able to achieve the effect of one seal with three talismans, or even one seal with five talismans.
The most I remember him ever printing was nine sheets at once.
His gaze became distant, as if he were looking into the far distance:
"After achieving great supernatural powers, he was even able to get rid of talismans and cinnabar and create talismans out of thin air."
Zhou Liuqing's mouth was open in an "O" shape.
So, before the Myriad Paths Weaving Machine came out, Master Haoguang was already a printing press?
"You should know."
"Spells, talismans, and magical artifacts are merely inferior imitations of supernatural powers."
Hai Shan continued:
"But in fact, 'talent' can also be imitated."
"It's just that only a few of us discovered this back then."
Duan Xinglian's eyes widened, and his heart raced:
"Could it be...?"
Hai Shan nodded:
"The three extraordinary skills are essentially imitations of my, my senior brother's, and my younger brother Haoguang's talents to a certain extent."
What you need to learn is how to imitate Hao Guang.
He paused for a moment, then pronounced the name slowly and deliberately:
Its name is—the Heavenly Record!
Duan Xinglian and Zhou Liuqing pondered over this somewhat unfamiliar name:
"The Heavenly Scroll?"
"That's right."
"These are just necessary for you."
Hai Shan explained the reasons to the two of them in as much detail as possible:
"Because you don't have the same sense of spatial structure as Brother Haoguang."
The heightened senses of those seeking the Dharma will make them more inclined to rely on intuition.
But this is actually very dangerous, since intuition can ultimately be wrong.
He explained in detail:
"If you force yourselves to practice the Tongtian Lu without learning the knowledge of topology."
This can easily lead to confusion in your perception of the supernatural symbols.
At that time, let alone printing talismans, we'll have to learn how to draw them from scratch.
In the most extreme cases, if one's internal magical energy becomes disordered, it's not impossible to suffer severe injuries on the spot.
This detailed and thoughtful explanation intrigued the two of them.
Use a solid and well-founded mathematical framework to aid understanding, rather than relying on simplistic and crude "insights".
This was unlike any of the seekers of the Dharma they had encountered before.
This idea of using mathematics to break down talent is something that other schools of thought probably wouldn't have thought of for hundreds of years.
Duan Xinglian muttered to himself:
"No wonder our sect requires us to walk closely with mortals."
Saturday's sunny weather evoked a sense of melancholy:
"No wonder the founders are called the pinnacle."
Hai Shan crossed his arms, looking quite pleased with himself.
"Of course."
He proudly boasted:
"I am the first person in history to obtain a doctorate in astrophysics."
My paper is still ranked number one in historical citations to this day.
Hai Shan seemed to remember something and added:
"By the way, Haoguang is a PhD in agronomy."
And I've always felt that Nobel owes him a dozen or so peace prizes.
Duan Xinglian and Zhou Liuqing exchanged a glance.
I just find it unbelievable.
My ancestor actually won the Nobel Prize.
Saturday Sunny asked curiously:
"Then Patriarch Haoguang must have made an indelible contribution, right?"
For example, inventing a crop that increases yield?
Hai Shan nodded solemnly, recalling the scene at that time.
His expression turned relieved, and his voice carried a sigh of relief:
"Because he finally decided to give up on messing around with potatoes."
He switched careers and went on to study electric motors.
The two people: ? ? ?
What kind of major contribution is this?
It seemed like she had remembered something.
Duan Xinglian asked cautiously:
"Master Xia Chuan, could he also be a PhD?"
Hai Shan nodded, his tone carrying a sense of self-righteous pride:
"A double degree in mathematics and education."
The two looked at each other in disbelief.
Our Three True Masters' average educational background is actually a doctorate?!
Hai Shan clapped his hands: "We've gone off on a tangent, we've gone off on a tangent."
"The Tongtian Talisman is the best way for you to increase your combat power."
Once you learn this trick, you'll be able to dominate the battlefield in three months.
Looking at the confident Haishan,
Duan Xinglian had some doubts:
"Senior, is it really possible to learn it in three months?"
Hai Shan did not hesitate, his tone resolute:
"Brother Haoguang knew a hundred years ago that you would definitely be able to learn it."
Duan Xinglian: "Huh?"
Hai Shan shook his head, his gaze falling on the ancient-looking token at his waist:
"There's too much to say, it's related to the Three True Ones sharing the same month."
Duan Xinglian understood and subconsciously touched the token at his waist.
Hai Shan looked at the same month's token without showing any emotion.
This kid probably doesn't know yet.
The token he holds, issued in the same month, will connect him to his past self from a hundred years ago, three months later.
Then he let his younger brother Haoguang from a hundred years ago witness his battle three months later.
Hai Shan sighed, his gaze becoming distant.
That's precisely why I can't take direct action right now...
As he pondered, his gaze fell upon a Zhong Kui mask in the corner.
The mask hung on the wall, red and black, with wide-open, angry eyes, but a slight smile on its lips.
Recalling the past, Hai Shan's lips curled into a smile.
So many years have passed in a flash, and I really miss it.
On the other side, in 1906.
Xi'an, Shaanxi.
Along a bustling street, crowds thronged, making it impossible to move.
A tall stage was erected at the entrance of the theater, with red silk and green satin hanging from the pillars. On the flagpoles on both sides, the four large characters "Mr. Chu Kui" fluttered in the autumn wind.
"Mr. Chu Kui!!!"
"Mr. Chu Kui!!!"
Surrounded by the crowd, a handsome young man stood up from the carriage and bowed to the crowd.
He wore a dark green long robe with a black belt around his waist, his hair was neatly combed, and his brows revealed a heroic air, like a general who had stepped out of a painting.
Thank you all for your kindness.
His voice was clear and bright, penetrating the noisy crowd and reaching everyone's ears clearly.
"As is customary, I'll give you a brief explanation."
Please be aware of any unexpected visitors to your home.
He paused, his gaze sweeping across the sea of people below the stage, his tone becoming serious:
"For example, the elders in the family, wife and children suddenly feel unfamiliar."
"Don't be afraid, just inform Chu."
He shook his head abruptly as soon as he finished speaking.
There was a mask painted on his face at some point.
With his black and red hair, full forehead, deep-set eyes, and thick eyebrows that slanted like swords into his temples, he had the imposing face of Zhong Kui.
"I, Zhong Kui, will not let that thief get away with this!"
He opened his mouth and spat out a flame, which drew a long fire dragon in the air, causing the audience below to gasp in amazement.
As the flames dissipated, Chu Kui laughed heartily, shook his head again, and the mask on his face instantly changed to another appearance.
He walked with measured steps, his back straight and his gait steady, slowly entering the theater's backyard.
The audience filed in, jostling and pushing their way into the theater.
Among the crowd, three figures stood still.
Gao Haoguang looked in the direction where Chu Kui had disappeared, frowning in puzzlement:
"Strange, isn't face-changing a technique in Sichuan opera? How could someone who sings Qinqiang opera know it?"
What's even stranger is that Sichuan Opera face-changing usually involves changing facial masks.
This person is putting on makeup directly on their face, and so quickly.
Hai Shan stroked his chin, a thoughtful look in his heterochromatic eyes:
"According to the information provided by Qianji Pavilion, this Mr. Chu Kui seems to have traveled all over the country and has mastered all kinds of operas."
He recalled what had just happened, his brow furrowing slightly:
"But I didn't understand that move just now either."
Was it magic? Or was it truly a display of exceptional performing skill?
Xia Chuan did not speak.
He stared at Chu Kui's departing figure, his brows furrowed.
This guy's soul... it seems to have just changed shape?
"Senior brother?"
Gao Haoguang waved his hand in front of him, drawing Xia Chuan's attention back.
"What do we do now? Go and make contact with this Mr. Chu Kui as originally planned?"
A week has passed since the group encountered Xiang Yuyin and Hei Zhu.
Because he had promised Wumingzi to kill the Nirvana Corpse that had escaped from Jiang Mingzi's hands a thousand years ago.
Following the clues provided by Qianjiguan, Xia Chuan and his group of five arrived in Xi'an.
Jin Miao and Hu Dasheng went to meet with the person in charge of the local Qianji Pavilion.
Meanwhile, Xia Chuan and his two companions, based on information from Qianji Pavilion, went to contact Chu Kui, a famous local Qinqiang opera performer.
Xia Chuan withdrew his gaze, his brows furrowing slightly.
Now it seems that Chu Kui has some problems.
After a moment's hesitation, he made the following arrangements:
"No rush. Let's go find him when Sister Jin Miao and the others arrive."
More information is always better.
Hai Shan glanced at the sky; the sun was already setting.
"So what do we do now?"
Xia Chuan's gaze fell on a shop across the street with a sign that read "Old Sun's Lamb Stew," and a slight smile appeared on his lips.
"Since things have come to this, let's eat first."
I heard that mutton soup restaurant is good, and it also has a good view of the theater.
Everyone responded in unison and headed towards the store.
Backstage at the theater.
No one is empty.
Grandpa Chu didn't like having someone around when he was putting on makeup; this was a rule known to everyone in the opera troupe.
His dressing room was the innermost one on the second floor, with a window facing the backyard, where few people usually passed by.
After confirming that no one was around, Chu Kui sat down in a chair, picked up the brush and paint on the table, and began to paint his face in front of the mirror.
One stroke.
One stroke.
The vermilion pigment started from the center of the eyebrows and spread to both sides, drawing the lines on the forehead, like the forehead band on an ancient general's helmet.
Black paint outlines the contours of the eyes and the corners of the mouth; with a single stroke, the eyes become as deep as an abyss, and the corners of the mouth as imposing as iron.
His technique was extremely fast, each stroke precise to the millimeter, as if he had drawn the mask a million times in his mind.
Halfway through the drawing, Chu Kui's hand suddenly stopped.
He looked at the face in the mirror—half of it was Zhong Kui, eyes wide open in anger, fierce and ferocious;
Half of it was her own image, with delicate features and a hint of weariness.
Two faces in the mirror were looking at him at the same time.
Chu Kui let out a long sigh, his voice echoing in the empty dressing room.
"Time is running out."
He put down his pen, stared at the half of Zhong Kui's face in the mirror, and his gaze became complicated.
"If we still can't find that kid..."