Proving God begins with the principle that no effort is wasted.

Chapter 88 The Scripture Pavilion

Jiang Lan sat cross-legged on the futon, her breathing deep and even.

The chaotic mist within his dantian finally ceased its churning under the repeated cleansing of the force.

A deep, condensing energy slowly formed in the center of the dantian—

Like a pebble that has sunk to the bottom of the water, suddenly settling into stillness!

The seed has been successfully developed!

[True Explanation of Spells: Beginner's Guide (500/500)]!

The nine acupoints reached their peak, a natural outcome!

He opened his eyes and looked at his palms. The lines on his palms were clear, and the calluses on the base of his thumbs were thicker than they had been a month ago. He clenched his fist and then released it. The flow of energy was smoother and more fluid, without the slightest stagnation.

He pulled the book "Heavenly Talisman and Precious Record" from under his pillow and opened it to the first page. The incantation wasn't long, only about three hundred characters. He read it three times, then closed his eyes and went through it in his mind, making sure he had memorized every single word.

Then he picked up the booklet and held it up to the oil lamp.

The flames licked at the paper, the edges curling and turning black, and the ashes fell to the ground, scattering into fine dust.

He already had a foundation in incantation magic, and the two methods, when compared side-by-side, surprisingly had similarities...

A golden light instantly appeared: [Heavenly Talisman Treasure Book, First Layer (1/100)].

really!

But no one can know. A nominal disciple of a spellcasting lineage, possessing the inner workings of talismanic techniques, is difficult to explain.

Suddenly there was a knock on the door three times.

Jiang Lan swept the ashes under the bed and opened the door.

Shen Ning stood under the eaves, dressed in a pale white Taoist robe, holding a bowl of soup in her hands. She didn't look at Jiang Lan's face, her gaze sweeping over the ground behind him, and said calmly, "Too much soup."

The soup bowl was handed to him, its warmth seeping from the porcelain into Jiang Lan's palm. He took it without saying a word.

"I've heard about the Youzhang Tower incident." Shen Ning leaned against the doorframe, her voice soft in the night breeze. "The Enforcement Hall has closed the case, but Senior Sister Xu Ling... has disappeared." She paused, finally looking up at Jiang Lan's face. "It's good that you're back alive."

Jiang Lan took a sip of the soup; the medicinal flavor overpowered the meaty aroma, and the bitterness stung his throat. He swallowed, the steam rising from the bottom of the bowl blurring his vision.

"Thank you for your concern, senior sister."

Shen Ning didn't say anything more, turned around and left, her footsteps fading into the distance under the corridor.

Jiang Lan closed the door and placed the soup bowl on the table; the soup inside was still steaming.

……

The next day.

In the courtyard of the Spellcasting lineage, several new disciples were talking to a young man in brocade robes. Their voices were soft, but warm.

Zhao Yanqiu, a new disciple of the Spellcasting lineage, is the young master of Zhao Family Fortress. Upon entering the sect, he presented the academy master with three ten-year-old Crimson Blood Dragon Ginsengs. Several senior sisters and brothers at the Qi Condensation Realm surrounded him, smiling obsequiously.

Jiang Lan walked past them. Zhao Yanqiu's gaze swept over them, paused for a moment, and then looked away.

Su Xiaotang stood by the herb garden, discussing medicinal herbs with a disciple. The disciple nodded and bowed repeatedly in agreement. Su Xiaotang saw Jiang Lan, gestured for the disciple to step back, and turned around.

"What is it?"

"Senior Sister, I have condensed my inner energy and perfected my meridians. I request the first level of the mental cultivation method in 'The True Explanation of Incantations'."

Su Xiaotang raised an eyebrow slightly. She looked Jiang Lan up and down, her gaze lingering on his simple clothes.

A fourth-grade Dao Foundation cultivator, born into a fishing family, he had already mastered the Vigorous Seed technique in less than two months. She remembered that her master had only accepted him because of that century-old spiritual herb.

"Yes." She nodded. "The rest of the cultivation method is in the Scripture Pavilion. You can go there to look it up and copy it yourself using your identification token. Remember, you need to register at the steward's office inside the building."

She took a jade token from her sleeve and handed it to him. "A temporary pass. Register with the steward when you arrive on the island, and you can use this token to enter and exit."

"Thank you, senior sister."

Su Xiaotang had already turned around and was talking to another disciple.

Mist swirls over Dingbo Lake.

A small, covered boat was moored at the ferry crossing, a small flag flying from its bow that read "Library of the Buddhist Canon." Jiang Lan boarded the boat and began to pole it himself. The lake was deep and dark. In the distance, the island in the middle of the lake appeared and disappeared in the mist, like a piece of black jade floating on the water.

The island's architecture is ancient and rustic. Blue stone steps lead from the water's edge all the way to the mountaintop. At the highest point stands a tower with upturned eaves and copper bells hanging from them, which tinkle in the wind.

The Sutra Repository, the Law Enforcement Hall, and the Treasure Pavilion are all gray-tiled and white-walled, nestled among pine and cypress trees.

Two deacons stood at the entrance, dressed in black Taoist robes with stern faces. After verifying their identities, the deacon on the left spoke: "Entry into the Scripture Pavilion costs one hundred taels of silver per hour. The cultivation techniques must be copied before you can take them away. Miscellaneous notes, secret records, and insights may be viewed, but are not allowed to be taken out."

Jiang Lan nodded.

The deacon pushed open the door.

The first floor was spacious. Neatly arranged ironwood bookshelves held books, bamboo slips, and leather scrolls, categorized by type. The air was filled with the scent of paper and ink. Several outer disciples were browsing among the bookshelves; most of them were at the early stage of the Meridian Opening realm.

Jiang Lan didn't linger and went up to the second floor. The bookshelves had been replaced with sandalwood ones, and the book covers were embossed with gold lettering—"Dislocating Tendons and Bones Techniques" and other mid-to-lower-level martial arts.

He went up to the third floor. The third floor was divided into five areas, each corresponding to one of the five meridians. Jiang Lan headed towards the Spellcasting meridian area and found the first level of the "True Explanation of Spellcasting" mental cultivation method. Next to it stood a wooden sign: Copying fee, one thousand taels.

He asked the steward beside him, "Is this the price for inner disciples too?"

The steward glanced at him. "Outer disciples use silver. Inner disciples use contribution points, or even less silver. Personal disciples don't need any conditions; they can learn freely."

Jiang Lan was silent for a moment, then asked, "Personal disciple, what is your cultivation level?"

"Above Condensing Qi, after Condensing Qi comes Refining Spirit." The steward's tone was emotionless. "In the entire Wutai Sect, there are no more than ten direct disciples."

Jiang Lan didn't ask any more questions.

He walked to the talisman section and glanced at the "Heavenly Talisman Treasure Register" on the bookshelf. The cost for making a copy was also one thousand taels. He looked away.

I have eight hundred taels left. Not enough to print any of the mental cultivation techniques.

He hesitated for a moment, then walked to the Zhensha Meridian area and picked up a concise summary of the "Eight Spears of Zhenyue." The summary was free to browse, but a complete copy of the spear technique would cost five thousand taels of silver. He flipped through it, then put it back.

Jiang Lan finished flipping through the notes on the gun manual, her fingertips brushing over the dense annotations on the pages.

Most of it consists of complaints from those who got stuck, with a few cold comments after breaking through, all filled with the grit and determination forged through hardship.

The path of shooting is treacherous, easy to learn but difficult to master, and can only be achieved through relentless dedication.

He suppressed the thought and looked at the price list for the rubbings again—five thousand taels of silver.

I didn't have enough money, so I had to give up.

Turning to the miscellaneous section, my fingertips brushed across the spines of the books, stopping at a yellowed booklet.

The Records of the Wuji Demonic Sect.

Jiang Lan's fingers paused slightly as she turned to the third page.

It says that the demonic art can absorb the true energy of others and make it one's own. However, the true energy is mixed with other kinds, and if one practices it for many years, one's mind will easily be corrupted by impure energy, and one's foundation will gradually become unstable.

On the edge of the page, a previous author wrote a note: "There are no shortcuts, and those who travel fast are often the first to die."

He closed the book, put it back in its place, and his palm was already half-cool.

The path of evil is fast, but also dangerous.

The right path is steady, but it requires endurance.

Jiang Lan suppressed her distracting thoughts, picked up the introductory mental cultivation method of the incantation lineage and made a copy, then turned around to prepare for registration.

Under the eaves, a figure in plain clothes was tiptoeing to organize the bookshelves.

Shen Ning wasn't wearing a Taoist robe today; instead, she wore a light purple ruqun (a type of traditional Chinese dress), her hair loosely tied up, with a jade hairpin inserted at an angle.

Hearing footsteps, she turned around and bumped right into Jiang Lan.

"Junior Brother Jiang?" A hint of surprise flashed in her eyes. "You've come to the armory too?"

"Senior Sister Shen," Jiang Lan said, bowing with her hands clasped in greeting. Her tone was calm. "Come and make a copy of 'The True Explanation of Incantations'."

Shen Ning patted the dust off his hands, a hint of helplessness in his smile: "The books in the armory need to be aired out frequently to prevent insects. This is my shift."

She glanced at Jiang Lan, her gaze settling on his palm, and suddenly asked, "You... you've successfully cultivated your inner strength?"

Jiang Lan nodded.

Shen Ning's eyes flickered with complex emotions for a moment, then she sighed softly: "When I first entered the sect, I was just like you, sitting in meditation day and night, thinking only of breaking through to a higher realm. But this path... is too arduous."

She paused, a hint of disappointment in her voice: "My senior brother is the same. He failed to break through the Qi Condensation Realm three times, and his spirit has been shattered. Now he doesn't even bother to return to the sect."

Jiang Lan didn't reply, but simply cupped her hands in a gesture of respect: "Thank you for your concern, Senior Sister. I'll go register now."

Shen Ning stepped aside to make way and said gently, "Go ahead, don't ruin your health."

Jiang Lan turned and walked towards the office, the printed pages trembling slightly in his hand.

Behind him, Shen Ning was still tidying up the bookshelves. The wind in the corridor rustled the pages of the books, as soft as a sigh.

He glanced back, then looked away.

……

An hour has passed.

The butler approached. "What are you making a rubbing of?"

"The first level of mental cultivation in 'The True Explanation of Incantations'".

He handed over his identity plaque and one thousand taels of silver.

After the butler verified that everything was correct, he took out a blank, specially made leather scroll and used a special potion and technique to quickly and completely transfer the contents of the scroll.

"Remember, this rubbing is for you to see only. If a second person knows its contents, you will be punished according to the sect rules." The steward's eyes were cold, carrying a hint of warning.

"Your disciple obeys."