Chapter 3: The Turbulent Electrocardiogram

Page (1/3) Chapter 3: The “Rollercoaster” Electrocardiogram

Zheng Jian’s emotions were truly a rollercoaster.

He had just relived the sensation of internal energy circulating through his body, was even on the verge of completing a full cycle—a sign that, at long last, as the senior disciple of Mount Hua, he might catch up to and surpass his junior, Linghu Chong.

But then, the sudden arrival of the system shattered the calm surface of Zheng Jian’s heart. Who could understand this feeling of reaching a peak, only to be deflated in an instant?

Thankfully, it was a system!

With a system in hand, the world is mine! At this thought, Zheng Jian’s sense of ennui vanished, replaced by a stronger, faster drive…

Then the system threw a bucket of cold water over him!

A Resentment System?

What kind of ridiculous system is this? How could it be so unreliable?

Zheng Jian raged inwardly, while his face once again adopted that serene, detached expression that follows a fleeting high. In that moment, he felt like a sage.

He no longer wished to converse with the system; he feared that if he experienced a few more of these dramatic mood swings, he might well be struck down by adolescent hypertension.

“It’s just too hard for me,” Zheng Jian muttered bitterly, thinking back to the legions of transmigrators in his previous life—each with endless cheat codes, each blessed by fate. They’d stumble upon rare treasures just by tripping over a stone, help an old man to his feet and be whisked to the heavens, and every girl they met would throw herself at them in tears.

But him?

He’d been in the world of Swordsman for a whole year now, and not a single fortuitous encounter had come his way!

Worse still, after a year of training, he still hadn’t even grasped the basics of “Mount Hua Internal Energy”!

If it were something like “Purple Mist Divine Skill”—a rare and difficult art that takes years to master—Zheng Jian could accept it. But what he was practicing was the most common “Mount Hua Internal Energy”…

“I have failed the people. I’ve disgraced transmigrators everywhere…”

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“No, if the system can’t be relied on, then I’ll rely on myself! Lean on the mountain and it falls, lean on others and they run—best to depend on myself! Even Xiao Dou Emperor said, ‘Do not scorn the youth for being poor!’”

Suddenly, courage welled up within Zheng Jian. Yes, do not scorn the young for being poor, nor the middle-aged, nor the old… Do not scorn—uh, let’s not get sidetracked…

Without further ado, Zheng Jian gathered his thoughts and composed himself. “Well, at least I can now quiet my mind on command,” he thought.

But even as this notion arose, Zheng Jian couldn’t help himself—his mind began to wander again! How did the transmigrators of old manage to keep their minds so clear? Was he really supposed to repeat “A heart as pure as ice, unshaken even if the sky falls” over and over?

Useless!

He cursed himself inwardly, then made another attempt to enter meditation. This time, he was determined—just as he had been in his previous life, cramming for an exam the night before.

This time, he succeeded!

Once again, he felt a warm current darting through his body. Zheng Jian dared not slacken; he immediately began circulating “Mount Hua Internal Energy,” carefully guiding the weak internal energy along its prescribed path.

Gradually, gradually—like the gentle steps of spring—no, like the completion of a cycle, the internal energy finally made a full circuit.

In that instant, a wave of comfort flooded Zheng Jian’s body, sweeping away the exhaustion of a night’s cultivation. It was as if…he were living among the clouds, with wave after wave of elation.

He sensed that, after completing its circuit, the internal energy returned to his dantian, stronger than before—no longer like a dying flame that could be snuffed out at the slightest breeze.

“Aha, I really am a genius!” Zheng Jian exulted. “Like a seaweed, seaweed, seaweed, swaying with the waves, dancing in the surf…”

He straightened up, humming a tune from his past life and twisting his hands in rhythm, lost in his own world.

At that moment, a sudden crash jolted Zheng Jian from his reverie.

Startled, he leapt up and saw Linghu Chong, his second junior, standing dumbfounded at the door, his gaze both terrified and bewildered.

“So it’s you, Second Brother. You just barge in without knocking?” Zheng Jian said nonchalantly, confident in one principle: whenever something truly embarrassing happens, if you aren’t embarrassed, it’s the other person who will be.

Linghu Chong shook his head, as if trying to erase the image of Zheng Jian’s crazed antics from his mind. “B—Big Brother, it’s already morning, I—I came to call you for morning practice. If—if we don’t hurry, Master will be angry! Are—are you all right? I—I just saw you…”

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“It was just a moment of joy, nothing more. I’m fine. By the way, you mentioned morning practice?” Zheng Jian cut him off, swiftly changing the subject. He glanced out the window—and was instantly stunned.

Without realizing it, dawn had indeed broken!

“So, the saying is true—cultivation makes time fly. An entire night passed in a blink,” Zheng Jian realized. At the thought of Master Yue’s handsome yet perpetually stern face, he dared not linger. He dashed out, dragging the still-dazed Linghu Chong along.

…

The morning sun rose, casting a light mist over all of Mount Hua. The scene was breathtaking, like an immortal realm.

On the training ground, the disciples of Mount Hua lined up in order, each five yards apart, facing east, engaged in seated meditation and breathing exercises.

Master Yue, dressed in his usual blue robe, stood with his hands behind his back, also facing east. From time to time, a hint of purple energy flickered across his face as he cultivated silently. At his level, there was no need to sit cross-legged unless in deep seclusion; he could cultivate at will.

Behind Master Yue, one spot was empty on either side—clearly reserved for Zheng Jian and Linghu Chong, who had yet to arrive.

At the very end of the line, little Yue Lingshan sat in meditation, her chubby cheeks tinged with concern as she stole anxious glances at the empty spaces, clearly worried about Zheng Jian and Linghu Chong’s absence.

A flurry of hurried footsteps grew louder, accompanied by heavy breathing. Yue Lingshan’s eyes lit up with relief.

It was none other than Senior Brother Zheng Jian and Second Brother Linghu Chong, both gasping for breath as they ran. Seeing Master Yue at the front, they were immediately seized by apprehension, tiptoeing quietly toward their respective spots by his side.

“Zheng Jian! Why are you late? And sneaking about like this?” Master Yue, his face composed, spun around. Though clearly angry, he kept his voice low, not wishing to disturb the disciples—his hope for the revival of Mount Hua, his very lifeblood.

Zheng Jian spread his hands, catching his breath before replying with a cheeky grin, “Master, your skills are truly peerless. With ears keen and eyes sharp, it seems I’m still too young to pull the wool over your eyes.”

Master Yue was used to Zheng Jian’s glib tongue and remained unmoved. Suddenly, his eyes narrowed as he stared intently at Zheng Jian, a note of surprise in his voice. “Hmm? Jian’er, have you finally mastered the basics of Internal Energy?”

…

(End of Chapter)