Chapter 3: The Book of the Dao

Wu Chaofeng stopped ten paces away and laughed heartily, “Lu Qingshan, don’t be nervous. I’m just passing through.” Then, swaggering, he departed with Li Shi and Li Mu.

“Aunt Hai’s family is having a hard time,” Wang Cui sighed. The borrowed grain had been stolen, leaving them to subsist on wild vegetables and fruits. When winter comes and the wild edibles wither and freeze, finding food will be nearly impossible. Aunt Hai’s husband, Wu Hai, was clearly away working, but even if he were home, he couldn’t have stopped Wu Chaofeng and his men.

Lu Yan looked at the mother and daughter clinging to each other in tears and let out a sigh. All he could offer was sympathy; as for giving them food, he simply couldn’t—they barely had enough for themselves. What a damned world.

“For the next few days, I won’t go hunting in the mountains,” said Lu Qingshan. There had always been bad blood between them and Wu Chaofeng’s group; if Lu Qingshan left to hunt, the deterrence would be gone, and Wu Chaofeng could come to seize their grain at will. Lu Yan and Wang Cui would be powerless to stop them.

“Father, I want to learn hunting from you,” Lu Yan spoke up.

“Very well, I’ll teach you here at home these days,” Lu Qingshan agreed after a brief consideration, surprising Lu Yan. In his memory, Lu Qingshan had never taught him hunting before, preferring him to study and aim for scholarly honors. Now, however, he had agreed so readily. Given how chaotic the world had become, with the status of scholars declining and after more than a month of wandering, it was only natural that Lu Qingshan’s outlook would change.

“Hunting is divided into archery, traps, and tracking. The most important is archery, so I’ll start by teaching you that. Wait here; I’ll make you a bow,” said Lu Qingshan.

Lu Qingshan, a hunter with more than ten years’ experience, easily crafted a basic hunting bow. He used oak for the bow, tough vines for the string, and bamboo for the arrows. By the next morning, a brand-new hunting bow was ready.

“Yan’er, come with me,” Lu Qingshan led Lu Yan to a bamboo grove not far from the village. On one bamboo stalk hung a wooden target, carved round, with a black dot in the center drawn with charcoal. Nine rings, each larger than the last, radiated outward, numbered from one to nine.

“Archery begins with a steady stance and level shoulders…” Lu Qingshan began explaining the essentials of archery, and Lu Yan listened intently.

“Watch closely,” he said. After his explanation, Lu Qingshan stood thirty meters from the target, drew his bow, and with a swift sound, the arrow flew like lightning, striking dead center.

“Yan’er, your turn,” Lu Qingshan looked at Lu Yan.

“Alright!” Lu Yan took the new bow, drew a bamboo arrow, and stood thirty meters away. He recalled his father’s points, drew the bow, and released—swish! The arrow missed the target by several meters.

Lu Yan’s face flushed, but he uttered a soft ‘hmm’, a trace of surprise on his face. In that instant, the book in his mind suddenly appeared, its light flickering briefly. This had never happened before. Lu Yan focused, trying to connect with the book, but there was no response.

“Could it be related to archery?” he wondered.

Seeing Lu Yan dazed, Lu Qingshan thought he was discouraged by missing and comforted him, “Yan’er, it’s normal to miss your first shot. When I first learned, I was worse than you. Practice more, and you’ll improve. There were some mistakes in your form…”

Lu Qingshan corrected Lu Yan’s errors and told him to keep practicing.

Lu Yan nocked another arrow and shot again. This time, he noticed the book in his mind appeared once more, its light flashing. So it was indeed triggered by archery—not his imagination.

Excited, Lu Yan practiced continuously. Most arrows missed, but occasionally luck was on his side. Each time he shot, the book in his mind would flicker. He practiced until noon, his arm aching, then stopped to eat. After a brief rest, he resumed practice.

The next day—

“Yan’er, archery is easy to learn but hard to master. You’ve grasped the basics; now it’s just a matter of practice. In time, you’ll become proficient. Today, I won’t accompany you—practice alone,” said Lu Qingshan. The bamboo grove was right beside the village, so there was no danger.

“Alright, Father,” Lu Yan eagerly took his bow and arrows to the grove and continued practicing.

Swish, swish, swish…

He practiced again and again, losing track of time. Near noon, thud! An arrow struck the target, landing solidly on the ninth ring.

“Three consecutive shots on target,” Lu Yan smiled, pleased with his progress. Just then, the book in his mind transformed dramatically, radiating dazzling light and pulling his consciousness toward it with an irresistible force.

Lu Yan felt darkness envelop him; his awareness faded, and the next moment, he found himself in a boundless expanse. Ahead, a venerable book floated, shining brilliantly.

“Is this my mind? Or perhaps, my consciousness space?” Lu Yan wondered.

His physical body had not entered—only his consciousness. His attention was wholly absorbed by the book. It looked ancient, neither gold nor jade, its material unknown. Strange runes flowed across its surface, emitting the light.

Gradually, the glow faded, revealing two characters: Dao Book.

The Dao Book opened automatically, displaying pure white pages. There were no words, but a human-shaped figure appeared.

Moments later, the figure detached from the book, flying out to land beside Lu Yan.

To his astonishment, the figure transformed into a person, features clear, looking exactly like Lu Yan. Except he was unclothed, his body transparent, muscles, veins, bones, and organs all visible.

“There are words above its head,” Lu Yan looked closely and saw: Avatar, Basic Archery, First Insight (1%).

The avatar appeared, holding a hunting bow, with a quiver of luminous arrows at his side. He drew an arrow, nocked it, assumed the stance, and shot.

The shooting posture matched Lu Yan’s exactly.

After the first shot, the avatar, undistracted, took another arrow and continued. This time, his stance and force were corrected, steadier than before.

Lu Yan suddenly gained new insight, as if he had shot the arrow himself, his understanding of archery deepening.

Though slight, the progress was real.

Could it be that the avatar’s training feedbacks to him?

Lu Yan was elated, watching the archery avatar with enthusiasm.

The avatar, focused, practiced archery tirelessly.

Soon, the numbers above the avatar’s head changed:

Avatar, Basic Archery (2%).

Lu Yan’s grasp of archery noticeably improved.

“If it works like this, I won’t need to practice—my archery can keep advancing!” Lu Yan rejoiced, clenching his fists. This was his chance to change his fate.

“How do I exit this consciousness?”

As soon as he thought it, his awareness swiftly returned to his body. Yet, by focusing, he could still ‘see’ the scene within his mind.

The archery avatar was still practicing, and with each shot, Lu Yan’s insight grew. But within half an hour, the avatar stopped, motionless, the progress halted at 3%.

At the same time, Lu Yan’s stomach gurgled, hunger overwhelming him.

“Does the avatar require energy to keep practicing? Now that I’m hungry and have no energy to provide, it stopped,” Lu Yan speculated.

To test his theory, Lu Yan hurried home—just in time for lunch.

Lunch consisted of wild yams and greens.

Famished, Lu Yan devoured two yams, each weighing over a pound, and a plate of wild greens.

Sure enough, after he was full, the archery avatar resumed its practice.

About an hour later, it stopped again, the progress at First Insight (8%).

Two yams and a plate of greens raised his progress by five percent.

Lu Yan’s stomach rumbled again.

He waited an hour before telling Wang Cui he was hungry.

“You’re still growing, that’s why you get hungry so quickly. I’ll cook two more yams for you,” Wang Cui smiled.

After two more large yams, the avatar moved again, but stopped after an hour. The progress rose another five percent, reaching 13%.

Lu Yan noticed a pattern: the avatar’s progress correlated with the energy from food.

The last two yams were slightly larger, matching the energy from lunch, so the progress increase was similar—five percent each time.

There were still several hours until dinner, and Lu Yan didn’t dare ask for more food.

First, their grain stores were limited and couldn’t withstand rapid consumption.

Second, getting hungry too quickly would be suspicious, raising his parents’ doubts. Lu Yan didn’t want anyone else to know about the Dao Book—not because he doubted Lu Qingshan and Wang Cui, but because if this secret ever leaked, it would mean certain death.

He endured his hunger, practicing archery in the bamboo grove.

Swish!

A bamboo arrow struck the target, landing on the sixth ring—a clear improvement.

“In just a few hours, I’ve gained as much as half a month’s hard practice,” Lu Yan gripped his bow, filled with hope for the future.

“I wonder if the Dao Book responds to martial arts training,” he mused, deciding to first master archery, then hunt with Lu Qingshan, sell the game, and save enough money to train in a martial arts academy.

Dinner was wild yam stewed with rabbit meat.

Wang Cui served Lu Yan a heaping bowl, most of it rabbit meat.

Lu Yan ate it all without hesitation; the sooner he improved, the better he could repay his parents.

After eating, he lay quietly on his bed, minimizing physical activity to conserve energy for the Dao Book.

The archery avatar resumed practice, and this time, progress soared by thirty percent, reaching First Insight (43%).

Indeed, meat provided much more energy than yams and greens—a pound of meat increased progress six times as much as two yams.

Time slipped by. On the afternoon of the third day after the avatar appeared, Lu Yan sat cross-legged in the bamboo grove, waves of insight from sustained archery practice flooding his mind, his understanding advancing rapidly.

Avatar, Basic Archery: Minor Achievement (1%).

His archery had stepped into a new realm.