Data-Driven Daoist

“Have you decided how to allocate your Primordial Qi, Little Tiger?” Duan Xiaolong said in his mind.

Yu Han shook his head.

“Tubs, you having a seizure?”

“Shut up.” Yu Han glared at Li Yao, who rolled his eyes.

“A wild boar needs to learn how to charge. A tiger, how to rend flesh. It makes no sense for either to invest in trap making.”

Specialization? Did he mean that I should go all in on Mind?

Yu Han waited. But with that final sentence, Duan Xiaolong’s voice did not return.

The line grew shorter, and by the time the last recruit’s turn was over, the rain had ended.

“Each of you, select a hut from the Slope of Snaking Leaves. Do not quarrel, do not steal,” Elder Scribe said. “Those who have been asked, visit me tomorrow at the main courtyard.”

***

“You broke through?” Li Yao yelled. “We gotta pour some wine at the shrine!”

They were now in a small hut halfway up the mountain on the Slope of Snaking Leaves, one secluded from the nearby ones. One that had a large doorway.

“Shush. Do you want everyone to find out?” Yu Han covered Li Yao’s mouth.

“Dude, that’s… what kind of Tribulation? Ah, crazy. I can’t ask about that.”

“The Scribe mentioned something about bringing bad luck.”

Yu Han explained his conversation with Elder Scribe, but left out the part about Duan Xiaolong telepathically advising him.

“You obviously need to choose the Scripture Hall in the outer Sect. They probably have far better stuff!”

“Do you know what an outer Sect is?”

“Tubs, in Riversong and the surrounding cities, we have what are called Mortal Martial Arts Sects. They’re basically gangs and dojos, but are modelled after Immortal Sects. At least, that’s what they claim.”

“I wasn’t calling you stupid, by the way.”

“It hurts more if you explain that, fatty!” Li Yao said, pouring wine for Yu Han.

“Where’d you get this?”

Li Yao grinned. “You have your secrets, I have mine.”

“So childish.”

It rained again that night. The howling gales acted as a backdrop, with the thatched roof creaking. But no water leaked, and the hut stayed strong.

In his Deep Sleep, Yu Han went over the events of the previous days. The illusory whirlpools, the infinite mountains, the crescent-shaped city. He practised observing Martial Arts from the various duels, re-enacted as a mirage. After Deep Sleep ended, true sleep began.

***

“This shellfish and this booklet have been passed through our Yu Family for generations.”

“Father, what’s written here?” his elder brother asked.

“A generous gift to our ancestor. Long forgotten in time.”

His elder brother put the booklet away. Mother fastened the shellfish into a necklace.

“I’ll keep it safe!” Yu Han beamed, then went out to play.

***

+1 True Qi.

Pure Qi Assimilated.

+1 True Qi.

Name: Yu Han (Johan)

Level: 1

True Qi: 3 (+2)/200

Pure Qi: 7 (-1)/110

Primordial Qi: 5

Lifeforce: 25 (+23)/648

The next day, Yu Han finished his business, thoroughly washing his hands with soap.

Liquid soap would have been better, but this is great too!

It was a simple soap, maybe made from animal fat. But it had an herby scent and worked fine. There were no indoor bathrooms, so he bathed by the lake.

It was early, the sun barely visible. He had the lake all to himself, once again scrubbing with the soap as hard as he could. This was the first proper bath he’d had in months. ᚱÃꞐỘβƐṡ

In the hut, there had been a set of neatly folded clothes. It had the same indigo and white motif, but no elaborate designs. Once he had washed up, Yu Han tried donning it.

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It wouldn’t fit.

Fuck.

He put his old clothes back on.

In front of Elder Scribe’s house, there was already a line of five kids. As Yu Han approached, their heads turned his way.

“We are here to claim our rightful rewards. What do you seek, commoner?” asked the short boy in front of Yu Han.

“Same as you.”

“What a joke.” The boy turned away. No one else bothered Yu Han.

Jerks. If Johan had been forced to dine with a guy who graduated from a third-rate university, he’d probably show a similar reaction. But he was Yu Han now, and the prejudice stung.

Kids went in, and in a few minutes, they trotted out happily. The line had grown longer behind him. He even saw Li Yao at the end. It seemed a total of eleven recruits were eligible for rewards.

Finally, it was Yu Han’s turn.

He went through the large front gate. A young girl greeted him, then led him to the end of a corridor.

“Wait here,” she said. “The Elder will call for you.”

“This poor Elder will have to depend on the Young Hero when the time is right.” He heard Elder Scribe’s voice from a nearby room. It was far more polite than when he’d talked to Yu Han.

“Worry not, respected Elder. This one will remember such grace forevermore.” A second voice replied. The door to the room opened, and the short jerk walked out.

He spotted Yu Han and scoffed before leaving.

“Next.”

Yu Han squeezed in the narrow frames. Everything here seemed to be built for skinny people.

The room looked like a wizard’s study, stuffed full of knick-knacks. Skulls, plants, many scrolls scattered around. Elder Scribe sat on a chair in front of a messy table, penning a scroll with a brush.

“It’s you.” The wiry man’s voice dropped.

“I greet the Elder Scribe.”

There was silence. He hadn’t seen a mechanical clock in this world yet, but a ticking sound seemed to echo in his mind. Not awkward at all.

“You know, child, the Sect rules do not stipulate that you cannot exchange for an alternative reward,” Elder Scribe said. “Perhaps Young Master Duan already mentioned that to you last night?”

Yu Han’s eyes widened.

“What, surprised? You were shaking your head and nodding as though talking with a ghost. Who else but Duan Xiaolong could have used telepathy?” The Elder Scribe looked pleased, as if he had revealed a huge secret. “He has taken an interest in you. Rootless tend to be like that. What has he told you?”

“Without Senior Brother Duan’s permission, I dare not utter.”

Mental note: get a poker face!

Yu Han shrank back under the Scribe’s gaze.

“Not without a spine, obese you may be. Then this Scribe has an offer for you. Mayhap a hundred Spirit Stones will suit you better? Or a night’s cultivation in my Elite Grade Cultivation Cave? Oh, you shall gain so much True Qi, even with such paltry talents.”

“I…”

“Speak freely.” Elder Scribe tapped the table softly. Yu Han recognised persuasion when he saw it.

Or was this a threat? Was access to the Library really that valuable? Well, in stories, Sects did hoard knowledge like dragons.

“I don’t know what Spirit Stones are,” Yu Han said.

“Such an unlettered imbecile.” The Scribe huffed. “They are money and riches. What can you even gain from the scrolls? Can you read? Only true scions of noble blood can gain from the library.”

Yu Han decided to probe.

“This one has learned the Common Script a bit.”

The Scribe’s expression changed. “Is that so? Fine. Have it your way. Name your chosen reward.”

Was that hope in his voice?

“I wish to spend a day at the Rookie Village Library and choose a Martial Arts manual.”

The Elder gritted his teeth. “Why not choose the Scripture Hall at the Outer Sect? They have a vaster collection. Surely you can gain more there.”

“This one is foolish, and cannot read Imperial or Earthly Scripts.”

“Foolish? With a Mind Allocation, how long can it possibly take to learn the language?” Elder Scribe stood. “Such a divine wastrel.”

Speak for yourself. Learning languages takes years. Who knows what’s gonna happen before that?

A silence followed. For minutes, the Elder Scribe didn’t say anything. He merely stared at Yu Han. There was ill will in that gaze.

Geez. Can I not go three steps without offending someone? He had no choice. It wasn’t his fault that he broke through! And now with Duan Xiaolong in the picture, the situation was more complicated.

Should he back down? Accept the hundred Spirit Stones? Be a pig rather than a tiger?

Duan Xiaolong seemed to have a strange goodwill towards him. In the long run, nurturing that relationship could pay off better than bowing down to the Scribe. If the Scribe was one of those stereotypical nobles, bending the knee would do little good. They wouldn’t give him any benefits; they’d merely take more away.

It’s too early to judge, but I can’t afford to miss this chance.

“It seems you have made up your mind,” the Scribe said. “Good. Good. This child dares to stare back.”

Here we go again.

“My granddaughter shall lead you to the library. Twelve hours from when you enter, your time there ends. If you step out, your time is to end too!” The Scribe slapped the table. A precariously placed scroll fell to the floor. It unrolled on its own, revealing neat handwriting. It had both Common Script and the unknown one, and some diagrams of tiny humans doing martial arts.

“Now begone. Yu Han, was it? We shall meet once more after.”

Yu Han left the room, and the girl outside led him to the library.

“How did a mere commoner break through?” she said, biting her lip. “No, don’t say. The heavens are unfair. This is just my luck.” She stomped. “Daring to steal my—no. It matters not.”

They arrived in front of an old door. The girl opened it.

It was a spacious room. There was one circular table with cushion seats laid out on a mat, and three shelves against the walls. One had a handful of old books and scrolls. The other two were filled.

A closed window let the morning light into the room. It clearly reflected the greed in the girl’s eyes as she gazed at the red ribbon-bound scroll placed on the table.

She turned to Yu Han. Her small face had an intense scowl.

“I will wait outside. Call for me when you wish to leave.”

Yu Han tried to enter the room.

“Dally at your own cost.”

Yu Han grumbled. He turned ninety degrees and entered through the door, squeezing his girth through.

Fucking fat-shaming architecture. The squeeze to his tummy made his bladder itch. He hoped he wouldn’t need to pee within the next twelve hours.

Who am I kidding? I already feel like—No! Don’t think about it.What’s done is done.

Yu Han immediately went for the scroll on the table. The Scribe had definitely placed it there. Were they that confident that his granddaughter would be the one to get it?

It was probably Sect property. In Xianxia stories, casually sharing Sect secrets could lead to severe punishments. Perhaps the Scribe had planned for his granddaughter to break through and rightfully receive this reward?

Now Yu Han had ruined that.

Damn government officials. They would always rig the game like this, letting their relatives have jobs in cosy positions whilst the rest fought over scraps. Johan had blackmailed many after finding that out!

He opened the scroll.

“Chicken scratch.”

It might as well have been. It was written in that strange script, with diagrams of a dancing lady. It made him curious—what was written in the booklet that he had lost?

He scanned the whole scroll. There were pictures, large and small letters, parts with different indentations, and sketches of birds and flowers. The more he looked, the stranger the thing became.

He went to the two shelves filled with newer books and scrolls. They were all written in that language. Or maybe it was a few different languages, and he couldn’t tell the difference.

In these two shelves, there were thirty-seven books and scrolls, and not a single one in Common. He went to the final shelf filled with the old books and picked one up.

“Oh?”

It was in Common Script!

It read, “Ox Tail 72 Sweeping Forms - The Elite Infantry Manual of the Bull Mountain Kingdom.” It was an old book, bound with brown string and coarsely cut paper.

“This one. This one too!” A total of eight manuals. All in Common Script.

Yu Han surveyed the room again. The other two shelves, the nine manuals in Common Script. The one placed on the table.

He had an idea.

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