Chapter Forty: The Library of Hidden Scriptures

Yang Nan, with a sheepish smile, said, “Senior brother, their influence is vast, but if they come to our door to bully us, I can't just sit and await my doom, can I? I'd rather go down fighting than live at the mercy of others, even if it means destroying Spirit Beast Mountain—so be it!”

Hu Yuan nodded in agreement. “Little junior brother, you’re absolutely right. The Li family may be a force in Kunlun Mountain, but they can't cover the sky with one hand. They only act so arrogantly because someone backs them. But rest assured, they wouldn’t dare lay a hand on you. If they tried, they'd have to answer to these dozens of elders.”

Yang Nan nodded. Scheming was one thing, but killing fellow disciples was another—something forbidden. In truth, this was a kind of cultivation training in itself. Disciples tempered by such trials would hardly be taken advantage of when they left the mountain in the future.

Yang Nan felt genuine admiration for the ancestor who had established such a rule, and Hu Yuan clearly thought the same; their eyes met, and suddenly both burst into hearty laughter.

All items collected from Spirit Beast Mountain had been handed over to the steward disciples. Hun Yuan, watching the envious glances of those disciples, was overjoyed. Serving in the Hall of Purple Qi could never compare to the perks of Spirit Beast Mountain. Following little grand-uncle truly brought honor…

Yang Nan and Hu Yuan emerged from the rear of the hall and, seeing Hun Yuan grinning from ear to ear, Yang Nan lightly tapped his head with a touch of magic. “What are you grinning about? Aren’t you coming?”

Hun Yuan snapped back to himself and replied obediently, “Yes, grand-uncle.”

Yang Nan cupped his hands with a mischievous grin. “Senior brother, if you ever have the time, come visit Spirit Beast Mountain. From now on, all Monkey Wine is on me. If you don’t come, don’t blame me if I drink it all myself.”

A trace of warmth flickered in Hu Yuan’s eyes. He nodded, “It’s a deal. You still have to inspect the skill halls, pill room, and formation rooms, so you’d better get going.”

Yang Nan nodded, and with Hun Yuan in tow, set off for Azure Luan Peak.

Azure Luan Peak served as the gateway among the many peaks of Kunlun. Not only were there treasures like the Divine Mirror and the Listening Beast guarding the mountain, but over ten thousand registered disciples and several thousand outer disciples gathered here, including not a few demons and monsters. Every registered disciple who failed to reach the innate realm and become a martial adept within ten years of entry would forever forfeit their hopes of attaining the Way.

Kunlun was a place of strict rules. Registered and outer disciples, unless carrying proof tokens and holding official posts, were not permitted to enter other peaks. Each peak was guarded by countless wards and disciples; for someone like Ai Muyun to dream of stealing secret techniques was pure fantasy— even sneaking a few spirit herbs from the medicine garden was next to impossible.

Though Kunlun did not care about disciples’ origins, except for the handpicked Daoist children from the mountain’s foot, registered disciples could only study martial arts; only outer disciples could learn basic spells. So, Azure Luan Peak was filled with all manner of pavilions and halls—skill halls, pill rooms, sword halls, formation rooms, and artifact halls. Though other peaks had such divisions, none could compare in number or scale.

However, the most advanced tomes were kept on the Hidden Skill Peak; here, only mid- and lower-level manuals could be found.

Arriving at Azure Luan Peak, Yang Nan handed a token each to Hun Yuan and Qian Ren. “You two go to the pill room, artifact room, and formation room to see if there are any outstanding hands to recruit. This is a decree from the senior brother—you can pick up to thirty in total, ten from each category. Don’t pick more, or I’ll have trouble explaining myself.”

Yang Nan knew that every outer disciple longed for an official post, allowing them to get close to those revered uncles and elders. With an official post came greater monthly provisions and direct guidance from a supervising elder—what could be better?

Though outer sect senior sisters visited to teach and answer questions, it only happened once a month, much to the disappointment of outer and registered disciples.

Desperately short-staffed, Yang Nan had requested a decree from Hu Yuan, permitting him to recruit up to thirty outer disciples—already the limit. After all, too many outer disciples would become an unruly force; while the sect did not fear an inner disciple stirring trouble, they would not allow such hidden dangers to exist.

Ten pill-refining disciples, ten artifact-refining disciples, and ten formation disciples—Yang Nan had already made up his mind. He had no desire for talisman, spell, corpse, or sword cultivators; he needed assistants, not fighters. No matter how strong these outer disciples, could they compare to tens of thousands of monsters and demons?

Seeing their little grand-uncle hand them the decree, Hun Yuan and Qian Ren understood at once—he was giving them the chance to earn favor. Overjoyed, they repeatedly thanked him, “Thank you, grand-uncle! We’ll pick only the best to serve you!”

Following little grand-uncle meant plenty of cultivation resources and a chance to show off before others—why wouldn’t they be delighted? Among the countless outer disciples on Azure Luan Peak, all eagerly awaited an official post, and to serve under a peak master as grand-uncle—who wouldn’t vie for such a spot? And those chosen would certainly obey the ones who picked them—Hun Yuan and Qian Ren would become the foremost outer disciples of Spirit Beast Mountain…

Seeing their beaming faces, Yang Nan laughed and scolded, “Be careful—if you bring back a bunch of misfits, I’ll have your hides!”

The two chuckled, mounted their flying swords, and descended into the peak. Confident in their competence, Yang Nan left them to it and made his way to the Scripture Pavilion.

The steward on duty saw the jade token at Yang Nan’s waist and hurriedly bowed. “Disciple Cheng Yang greets Uncle Yang. What brings you here today, sir?”

Yang Nan sighed, feeling a bit out of sorts. Others worked their way up from registered disciples to the inner sect, but he was doing the reverse—no wonder the steward looked puzzled.

Still, a shaky foundation was a grave flaw, so Yang Nan asked humbly, “I’d like to browse some texts here in the Scripture Pavilion. Are there any restrictions?”

The steward forced a smile. “You jest, uncle. The books here are mostly elementary techniques; you may browse at will. I’ll show you inside.”

Yang Nan nodded, noting the privilege of inner disciples—he could peruse even this restricted trove of scriptures. Once a disciple had access to superior techniques, who would bother with these low-level texts?

He tossed over a few spirit stones and said coolly, “Lead me to the martial, pill, formation, and artifact sections.”

Seeing Yang Nan so generous, the steward was delighted and led him in.

The Hidden Skill Pavilion contained everything, but the Scripture Pavilion held even more: martial arts, sword techniques, Daoist alchemy, even fortune-telling. Though Kunlun was a sect of soldiers, outer disciples could choose to study other paths. If they had no hope of reaching mastery, they could pick a practical art here before leaving the mountain to make a living.

Guided by Cheng Yang, Yang Nan went first to the pill section, where countless formulas abounded—some bizarre, some common. The methods for forging cauldrons and kindling fires were endless. When Yang Nan saw such so-called “man’s treasures” as the Dragon-Tiger Pill and the Golden Lance Pill, he couldn’t help but chuckle.

He selected a few recipes that aided healing and cultivation and noted them down. As for cauldron and fire methods, there were no advanced manuals—only the higher the quality of materials and the rarer the elemental flames, the better the alchemy. Yang Nan casually noted a few cauldron techniques but read the tomes on wondrous flames with particular care.

The seven elements of heaven and earth could all give rise to fire—even the water element had rare things like iceflame and snowfire. There were one hundred and eight wondrous flames in the world, but earthfire was the most common. Ordinary alchemists used earthfire, but high-level pill masters used the rare elemental flames as cauldron fire.

These flames were all extraordinary; if one could refine them to use in battle, their power would be terrifying. Yang Nan made a note—perhaps he would encounter such flames one day and could claim one or two for himself.

The Scripture Pavilion’s martial arts section was the most extensive: a dazzling array of fist, leg, step, palm, movement, blade, sword, and spear techniques, as well as all sorts of energy cultivation methods. Names like Golden Snake Entwining Hand, Thirty-six Great Capture Techniques, Whirlwind Leaf-Sweeping Kick, Snow Feather Swordplay, and countless others filled the shelves.

Yang Nan sought only the simplest, most effective techniques suited to battlefield use, ignoring all the flashy styles. No matter how powerful the martial arts, a magic weapon’s single strike or the might of heaven and earth could render them useless. After all, could human strength ever truly contend with nature?

Cheng Yang, quick on the uptake, saw that the little grand-uncle wanted straightforward, practical combat skills and selected for him the Blood Battle Blade Method and the Tiger Subduing Fist. Both were fiercely direct, focusing not on form but on momentum—few moves, great power, easily adapted for sword or spear, and suitable for group practice. Simple and effective, indeed.

Yang Nan gave him an approving glance and memorized both methods. With thousands of demon soldiers learning such techniques, their morale would soar—monsters, born with innate power, could always surpass humans who toiled for every bit of cultivation.

There were far fewer formation manuals than other types. Formations, after all, were arts for overcoming strength with weakness, gathering spiritual energy, as profound as any top-tier technique. The common formations—Bewildering Maze, Phantom Trace, Six Harmonies, Seven Stars, Eight Trigrams—were mostly for confusing the eye and trapping foes. Yang Nan skimmed through several, shaking his head; what he wanted was a high-level restrictive formation, or at least a solid battle array. Advanced formations were not to be found here, so he settled for the latter.

Among the battle arrays were the Wild Goose, Azure Dragon, Fish Scale, and Crane Wing formations. Most were unimpressive, but after much searching, Yang Nan found a few special ones: the Snow Dance Array, the Dragon Trap Array, and the Meteor Array.

The Snow Dance Array, as its name suggested, focused on the swirling dance of snowflakes—avoiding brute force to strike with gentle persistence, relentless and all-encompassing. Once it entangled an enemy, it would not rest until victory or death—a perfect choice for subtle, insidious warfare.

The Dragon Trap Array was designed for many against few, with clear layers and both offense and defense, aiming to trap the enemy. If a master entered, even if not slain outright, he would be worn down by endless, unceasing attacks—a terrifying prospect, like ants gnawing an elephant.

The Meteor Array: like falling stars, swift and unstoppable, with the strong as its core and the weak in support. The strong risked all, the weak tangled the enemy; it prized unstoppable momentum. Once set, the formation crashed down like a meteor shower—few could escape unscathed. To be caught by the Meteor Array was to risk life and limb.