Data-Driven Daoist

The man, bald with sunlight shining off his head, carefully tiptoed around the mounds of dirt Fei Rui had dug up. He wore a modified sect robe with the character “Liang” on the right sleeve.

His identity token hung from his waist belt. It had orange strokes, the same as Tan Ruoxuan’s.

He was in the Qi Gathering Realm.

“This gentleman is a steward from the Liang Clan,” Tan Ruoxuan introduced. “He wishes business with you.”

Her eyes conveyed comfort and wariness to Yu Han with minute squinting. Or so he though. Yu Han couldn’t read minds, so he decided to butter the guy up.

“An honoured steward from the great Liang Clan!” Yu Han said, pitching up his voice. “Come in, come in. This poor disciple has nothing to offer other than my heartfelt respect.”

Yu Han opened the door to his hut and the messy interior was seen.

The steward didn’t even try to hide his scowl. Under his breath, he muttered complaints on how he was stuck doing chores.

“This one has no time,” the steward said. “Boy, you seem to have received some undue possessions recently. Bring them out.”

Yu Han realized what he was referring to, but played dumb.

“I-I have no money—”

“The three books, boy. The ones merely lent to those Mad Bloodhound scoundrels.” The steward threw Yu Han a disdainful look. “The sect sent them to your possessions. But they were rightfully the Liang Clan’s property. It can be nothing else but a grave accident. Hurry up and return—”

“The Liang Clan has agreed to trade the books back, its honour be bound in writing,” Tan Ruoxuan said. “Lest words spread of haggling.”

The man glared at the Law Enforcer, but couldn’t deny it.

“I remember now. Those books,” Yu Han said, punching his palm. “They were difficult to parse. I had about hidden them away, as they offer no use to me.”

It was rare for books in the sect to be written in Common Script. Liang Fuyu only wrote her review in Common because she was exploring the usage of lesser known tongues in Script based Array Formations. As for the other two, Yu Han could hardly guess why.

Yu Han didn’t mind returning them. He’d already copied everything down into his dreamscape. Each had a memorycast pearl.

“It is without doubt they are difficult for the likes of you,” the Liang Steward said. “A mere commoner’s son, and he dares to think he can understand the intricate words of great scholars.”

“I asked Foundation Building realm seniors too,” Yu Han said. “Not even they could offer guidance.”

Feral Spot wasn’t illiterate. But he couldn’t do Array Formations.

The mention of Foundation Building realm cultivators seemed to jolt the steward awake.

“Which senior was it—” The steward stopped himself and coughed. “In any case, we do not have all day. Bring out the tomes, and ask for a fair price. Do not think you can take advantage of the Liang Clan’s generosity, however.”

Yu Han said he didn’t dare. He then emphasized what an important job the steward was doing, and how much it meant to him that the steward would come in person.

The bald steward’s attitude softened at the blatant bootlicking.

Like middle managers overworked in companies, pour them a cup of compliments, and get the deal done.

Tan Ruoxuan looked on with clear disgust.

“This one greatly admires the expertise of the Liang Clan,” Yu Han said. “But seeing how I understood nothing after reading the books cover to cover, it seems I don’t have any talent in array formations.”

“Don’t be discouraged, boy. It’s not your fault you are illiterate to the ways of Characters,” the steward said. “It is not an art for the commonborn.”

“Yet my admiration cannot go away! I still want to pursue this wondrous art,” Yu Han said. “When I read the books, it’s as if a new world opened up to me. Although I am unable to master Characters, I wonder if the steward has any suggestions if I pursue Shapes.”

“That is a path too, though a lesser one,” the steward said, not bothering to hid his disdain. “Easy to get started, at least. It does better suit someone of your status. Though quite soon you will hit a roadblock. Dare I say you can do business with the riffraff of the Outer Sect? Etch out a living for yourself, creating lesser talismans to start fires and freeze water.”

Yu Han’s face brightened. Tan Ruoxuan rolled her eyes.

The steward didn’t see it though.

“These books are priceless. Truly so.” Yu Han brought the three books out. “Especially this one written by Senior Liang Fuyu. She is a Core Disciple, is she not? How wondrous it would be if I could receive a morsel of her guidance, not that I dare to think I am worth it. It’s such a shame that no matter how many resources in Shape-based array formations I have, it will never compare to these books.”

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

“That is merely the way of the world,” the steward said. “The heavens define the divide between the talented and not. Commoners and nobles. Mortals and Cultivators. Can even a hundred mortals compare to even the least of us? No. Not even a thousand! Thus worry not. For you are blessed with a spirit root.”

“True words have never been spoken so eloquently before,” Yu Han said as the steward nodded sagely. “Then this one pressumes a hundred tomes on Shapes will be a fair trade.”

The steward’s face was a sight to see.

“T-That’s a bit,” he stammered. “Although indeed the value of the Young Mistress Liang Fuyu’s writings are immeasurable, a hundred books is a bit—”

“Not only is it immeasurable, it is infinite. A decade from now, even after reading it a thousand times from start to finish, one will find value. A certain glimmer of inspiration—”

“That too is true. True, yes. I am not saying that isn’t the case, but a hundred books—”

“A thousand would be too little. Nay, a ten thousand even! How can array formations based on shapes, those primitive squiggles, ever hold a candle to the weight of history—”

Yu Han only had one strategy. The more the steward would try to downplay Yu Han’s contribution, the more he would aggrandize Liang Fuyu’s work.

Want to bargain down? That’s an insult to Liang Fuyu!

What, you’re saying a formation master of the Liang Clan isn’t ‘worth it?’

Are you crazy?

Just bootlick. Sometimes, only by kissing someone’s ass could you cause them financial ruin.

And although financial ruin wouldn’t visit this steward, getting a hundred books on a specific subject would not be an easy thing.

The Liang clan probably had some books on shapes. However disdainful they were of the art, only a fool would say no one could find value in them.

If Yu Han had asked for 10 or even 20, the steward could probably trade them without asking permission.

But a hundred? That would raise eyebrows.

Yu Han had a guess, that this steward wanted to accomplish something by getting the three books back.

The steward had even dropped hints of threats. Of course, only hints. Any normal person with even a bit of social awareness could have realized the subtext.

Yu Han was definitely normal. He pretended not to be.

Disregarding the subtext, he kept hyping up Liang Fuyu’s writing.

It was the epitome of ‘what can you do about it?’ attitude. After all, being shameless was its own talent. It needed good articulation.

Finally, gritting his teeth, the steward agreed. A hundred tomes might be too much. He made a concession to at least gather half, and replace the rest with texts of equivalent value.

Tan Ruoxuan would be the judge if the value was indeed equal.

Yu Han handed the three books to policewoman.

“Can I borrow a Jade of Moments for some days?” Yu Han asked.

Tan Ruoxuan, who had a face as if she had witnessed the great Dao firsthand, handled over the pyramid-shaped trinket.

The books and scrolls would be delivered in the next couple of days. Yu Han would return the Jade of Moments then. Or later, if Fang Zhao was slower.

Yu Han bowed and figuratively kowtowed with his words as the two left.

“Fang Zhao’s luck must be rubbing off on me,” Yu Han could barely hold in his giggle. Then his face fell. Hopefully only the good luck.

Fei Rui tugged the bottom hem of his trousers.

「Yu Han, Yu Han. Are you going to marry Liang Fuyu?」

“What? No. Where did that come from.”

「Grandpa said the only time a man should praise a lady so much is when you want to marry her. Otherwise you might summon the calamity demons hiding in the dark realms of nightmarish evil on the other side of the Tunnel of Doooom.」

With that piece of sagely advice, Fei Rui went back to architecture.

He’s not wrong.

Yu Han grabbed his halberd. He had done some basic maintenence on the blade the previous day. Now it gleamed under the daylight. The greyish edge retained the shine from the oil, the coarse metal body appearing far more blacker in contrast.

He got into a stance. His feet shoulder’s width apart. He positioned his knees facing away from each out.

It was a modified horse stance.

Or the Bull Stance, from the Steady Bull Steps. He received the scroll from Fang Zhao. Huang Niuniu and he had translated the first part.

Both are martial arts related to cows. It was translated by a Little Yellow Cow too. If the Dao has any sense of humour, it would give me bonus points for trying!

The corner of Yu Han’s lips upturned, not a full smile. He gave a brief, nearly imperceptible shake of his head and held the halberd in front of him, vertically.

Mountain Root Stance.

He breathed in, then out. Eyes open, he envisioned flowers blooming with each exhale, and more wilting with inhales.

It was the visualization for Thousand Petals Awareness. The image didn’t literally appear in his mind, but the Psychic Art’s crux was aligning his state of mind with his breath, and the changes in the imaginary space of pink flowers.

Pink or green?

His senses of taste and smell muted. If he wasn’t so practiced, it was a change so gradual he would not have noticed. But once clearly experienced with the two senses’ absence, their lack stood out to him like a torch in darkness.

The first sense to empower was his sense of touch. He felt inwards. Muscles clenched and relaxed. Contraction. Extension.

His lungs rose and fell.

The minute discomfort of places that itched, or where the clothe bit into his skin did not increase into pain. The Psychic Art was not a blind increase or decrease of the intensity of his sensations.

It seemed to sublty, yet intelligently, enhance sensations that he wanted boosted, while muting others.

It was as if his brain and nervous system, or the magical power behind the Art, was acting as a filter.

The change was more pronounced after his latest Primordial Qi Points invested in Mind Origin. Was it Intelligence or Perception that heralded the benefits? Or was it Focus?

After touch, he let his sense of sound rise. Then his sight.

A leaf floated in front. It was about five feet away.

Yu Han moved back three feet, his steps steady, and brought down the halberd.

The blade slashed through the leaf. The wind blew it away from the blade’s path. But Yu Han changed his grip midway, going from Mountain Root Stance to Grass-Cutting Hook. The blade swivelled, curving a circle around the leaf in the air and positioned itself under the it.

The leaf gently landed on the blade’s edge.

Yu Han could see, hear, and feel the subtle weight as it made contact.

This was Synaptic Bloom. He could only hold this state for five minutes.

Or maybe a bit more. This time.

After completing his training. He reverted back to the usual Ox Tail 72 Sweeping Forms. Now, it was nearly muscle memory.

His mind wandered. It had been 171 days since he came to this world. Until now, he was being pushed and pulled by events outside of his control. From the green meteor to Jie Tong, Riversong Commandery City to Stormy Reef Sect. Gong Muhua, Sima Yan, Fang Zhao.

Even the debacle with Feral Spot, and the excursion into the Hidden Realm was out of necessity. Forced by circumstance, with an illusion of free choice.

Yu Han went along with it. He couldn’t help it. But in his subconscious, the part of him that was Johan rose his head up with an indignant frown.

Life was happening to him. He was but a spectator.

Yu Han would take back the controls.