"Tch! Our Washing‑Dust Sect has truly fallen — to name such a shameless degenerate as Chief Disciple is a disgrace to our lineage!"
A disciple muttered in anger, his voice low yet dripping with venom.
"Didn't he just leave for the Nine Saint Demon Gate's test? How is he back so soon?"
"Obviously he failed," another sneered. "With that trash physique of his, you think he could pass the Nine Saint Gate's trials? Please. And he dreamed of marrying the Princess of the Ancient Ox Kingdom? A toad lusting after a swan!"
In truth, the elders had not announced Li Qiye's success.
They still did not know the attitude of the Nine Saint Demon Gate, and before the Sunwheel Demon Emperor gave word, none dared to proclaim a marriage between Li Qiye and Li Shuangyan.
Should the princess refuse and bring shame to her sect, it could spell disaster for Washing‑Dust.
Nan Huairen heard every word yet pretended not to.
As for Li Qiye himself, his expression remained peaceful, his steps unhurried, as though he heard nothing. His attention was fixed solely on the rows of scrolls before him.
### The Sea of Manuals
"TigerRoarBreathArt, HeavenlySilkwormLongevityLaw, BlazingSunWheelTechnique, Iron‑BullBodyArt..."
So many scrolls lined the shelves in neat array — some originals, some careful hand copies, others chiseled onto stone.
Some for tempering the body, some for nurturing vital energy, others for guarding one's life or striking the enemy.
The sheer variety proved the former grandeur of the sect beyond doubt.
"Some of these," Nan Huairen explained as he led the way, "were created by our own ancestors; others were acquired from outside sects or ancient ruins. If you want arts related to Imperial Techniques, you'll need to go up to the third floor. The first level holds basics for ordinary disciples; the levels above are reserved for hall masters or those who've rendered great service."
Li Qiye nodded, browsing slowly.
He was in no haste — in his heart he already knew what he was looking for.
They moved through the first and second floors, ascending to the third.
The higher they went, the fewer the scrolls.
Many shelves stood bare, some marked only by titles without books.
"Surely not all borrowed away?" Li Qiye frowned.
"I wish it were so." Nan lowered his voice.
"They say many of our manuals were lost. My master said we barely retain a handful of Imperial Arts today — fewer than three complete volumes.
If the upper three tiers are empty, then our title of 'Imperial Lineage Sect' is nothing but hollow words."
Back in the reign of Immortal Emperor Mingren, he had forged countless laws — some transcendent, others that bridged mortals to heavens — the very core of the Heaven's Mandate arts.
### The Vanished Arts
"Could they have been stolen?" Li Qiye asked lightly.
He knew too well the truth — that not only had the sect preserved Mingren's own creations, but also many Imperial‑grade techniques he himself had once seized from ancient races — from the Blood Tribes, Stone Men, Demons, and others of the Primeval Era.
"No one knows." Nan sighed. "They say fifty thousand years ago our Invincible Ancestor fell in battle — a catastrophe that nearly destroyed the sect. Then thirty thousand years ago another disaster struck. Some say our arts were locked away by the Ancestor Mu; some say they were looted by the Holy Heaven Cult in war."
"Mu the Young Emperor…" Li Qiye murmured, recalling that dazzling genius of ages past.
Nan's voice rose with pride.
"Yes! Ancestor Mu — second only to Mingren Immortal Emperor himself — the one who rivaled the Sky‑Treading Immortal Emperor. They fought six duels — three victories each! In those days our sect ruled supreme, unmatched throughout the Human Realm."
"And yet the Heaven's Mandate fell to Sky‑Treading in the end," Li Qiye said quietly, his tone flat.
Nan's excitement dimmed.
"So it's said. After his final battle, Ancestor Mu vanished. Some say dead; some say he died in meditation; others believe he sealed the Imperial Techniques on the top floors."
"And how many scrolls remain above?"
"My master visited twice — said ten fingers could count them all."
Li Qiye sighed silently.
An Imperial‑line sect without Imperial Arts — its decline needed no further proof.
### An Unusual Selection
In the end he chose one scroll on life‑preserving combat arts from the third floor, and another blood‑nourishing method from the second.
But then, from the lowest floor's corner, he pulled out a stack of thin scrolls — a hundred and twenty in all.
Nan Huairen stared.
"Senior Brother — these are all martial skills! Anyone in the sect can study them. Why not pick more valuable ones?"
"I have my reasons."
Li Qiye's tone was soft but certain, and Nan did not press further. He helped carry the stack to the registry.
Once, he would have called it folly; now he no longer dared to judge.
Together they brought the hundred and twenty volumes to the record desk.
The clerks all stared — some open‑mouthed — and even the Protector in charge looked up in astonishment.
"The elders allowed only three," a disciple reminded.
"I know," Li Qiye replied evenly. "I'm taking one Fate art and one Blood‑nourishing law as per order. These others are common techniques, open to all disciples — surely that's no breach."
The scribes looked to the Protector; he nodded slightly.
"Martial‑Skills Compendium, forty‑four volumes; Miscellaneous Arts, thirty‑six; Iron‑Skin and Copper‑Bone series, forty — total, a hundred and twenty," read the registrar blankly.
Laughter burst out around them.
"Idiot! Even if you mastered them all, you'd still amount to nothing!"
"Ha! At least he knows his limits. A mortal body, mortal fate — the Dao is beyond him, so he'll settle for punches and kicks!"
Jeers rose like flames through the hall, mockery echoing from pillar to pillar.
Through it all, Li Qiye's smile never faded.
Not a muscle of his face moved in anger — as though their ridicule were no more than dust stirred by the wind, already gone before it touched him.