No, I misread it, damn it! Got excited for nothing.
What the hell is this Qimen Dunjia (奇门遁假)?!
I’ve heard of Qimen Dunjia (奇门遁甲), the top secret art among the three treasures—Qimen, Liuren, and Taiyi. Known as the Emperor’s Study, it can seize the power of heaven and earth. (G: The spelling of the two are different.)
Qimen, Dun, Jia—each word a secret.
Modern folks mostly use it for divination. Cao Ren’s Eight Gates Golden Lock Formation from the Three Kingdoms and Zhuge Liang’s perfected Eight Trigrams Formation all stem from Qimen Dunjia.
But what’s this Qimen Dunjia (奇门遁假)? A twin brother of Qimen Dunjia (奇门遁甲)?
That “fake” in the name bugs me!
Plus, Qimen Dunjia (奇门遁甲) is sold everywhere—not exactly rare. Of course, the original Qimen Dunjia (奇门遁甲) is priceless, a heavenly book containing the secrets of creation and cultivation techniques. But it’s long lost.
What’s on the market now is just fragments, with the core lost to history’s dust.
I stuffed the booklet in my back pocket, picked up the plastic bag from the ground, and trudged toward the apartment.
I killed someone, yet I feel nothing. Am I getting colder? Shouldn’t I be freaking out?
No, he tried to kill me. He failed and got killed instead. No reason for guilt.
Killing him dropped a secret manual of unknown level.
The more I think about it, the more it feels like an RPG—soloing a boss, looting gear, PK in the capital… Ugh, too much Y0uku drama. (G: a streaming platform)
I got carried away.
Dealing with that old man took time. Wang Ziyan’s waiting for me to cook. I better hurry.
I got home late.
Wang Ziyan already washed the dishes and was lounging on the sofa.
“Finally back? I’m starving!” she said, exasperated.
I chuckled awkwardly. “Got held up. I’ll start cooking now…”
“Here’s your fresh mushroom pork noodle!” I handed her the bowl.
Wang Ziyan grabbed it and dug in. These girls are like reincarnated hungry demons.
“I got stuff to do. Wash your bowl after,” I said, thinking about Qimen Dunjia. That old man, an early Stellar Vortex cultivator, had insane stealth. Must be tied to this manual.
She nodded, and I scurried to my room.
I pulled out the Qimen Dunjia (奇门遁假) and inspected it.
The booklet was thin, worn-out. But the shabbier, the better, right? The Legend of the Fox Demons that sealed Mei’er was tattered too.
“Hm?” I tried flipping it open, but it wouldn’t budge. Only after channeling some True Qi did it work.
Makes sense—cultivation-related stuff shouldn’t open with brute force, or everyone could cultivate.
But, d*mn it!
The book opened, but the first page was blank!
I tried flipping further—nothing. Even True Qi didn’t help.
Blank first page, rest stuck. What a rip-off!
Pissed, I tossed Qimen Dunjia (奇门遁假) to the floor.
And then something happened.
The thrown booklet glowed… uh, crap-yellow. Seriously, crap-yellow.
The light shot up, blinding me.
When it faded, Qimen Dunjia (奇门遁假) lay flat, the blank page glowing faintly, projecting onto the ceiling.
I looked up—holy crap! Too d*mn awesome!
What era is this book from? It’s like a projector! Golden text and images beamed onto the ceiling.
D*mn, Qimen Dunjia (奇门遁假) is such a troll. Had to throw it to reveal its secrets. Thought it was junk.
Noticing sunlight streaming through the window, I realized something.
The projection wasn’t from tossing it—it was from the sunlight hitting it.
Whatever. As long as I can access the manual’s secrets.
I was about to lie down and study Qimen Dunjia (奇门遁假), but remembered Tang Shuyao sneaking in last time, catching me… uh, peeling an apple. So I locked the door first.
Prep done, I lay on the floor, reading the ceiling text.
All ancient script, but thanks to Nine Revolutions of Heaven and Earth, I’d been infused with that era’s language.
[Since ancient times, the cultivation world has revered strength. Killing and looting are common. Seeing this, I felt inspired to create an escape technique.]
[D*mn it, fancy talk’s a pain. I’ll just be a crude idiot and speak plainly!]
Whoa! That tone shift was wild.
Are all cultivators this quirky?
Shaking my head, I kept reading.
[This technique was born from pity for weaklings who got killed. No strength, yet they don’t learn life-saving skills—just murder techniques. They deserve to die!]
This senior’s personality is wild. Another complaint, but I kept going.
[Breath Concealment can hide your aura, but it’s useless in open spaces—not ideal for survival. So I built on it, creating Qimen Dunjia (奇门遁假). I’m this badass, so my technique needs a badass name!]
Ancient cultivators were this c0cky? It’s just a survival skill!
Skipping the chatter, I read the Qimen Dunjia cultivation method.
[Sink qi to dantian, restrain aura. If circulating True Qi forward creates strong attacks, what about reversing it?]
Reverse True Qi? D*mn, that’s playing with death!
But this senior’s ideas got crazier. He actually tried reversing True Qi, experimenting until he developed a technique for hiding aura and boosting speed.
Speed boost burns too much True Qi, but concealment’s simpler. I reverse True Qi per his route, spread it outward, and blend with surroundings to hide.
For speed, with enough True Qi, you could travel a thousand miles a day!
“This is too d*mn awesome!” I exclaimed.
Master this, and I could sneak around, spying on my hot roommates, right?
I kept reading, then saw the creator’s name and nearly choked.
At the page’s end, in bold: Niu Shisan!
D*mn it! How’s everything tied to Niu Shisan?!