Chapter 114

After an unknown amount of time, Song Haowen finally fell into complete despair. The swelling in his dantian had transformed into a full-body expansion, and every limb and bone was undergoing extreme stretching and deformation. The tearing pain that resulted from this made it unbearable for him.

Thinking that there was no escape from this calamity and preferring not to die in such agony, he decided to take matters into his own hands, hoping for a premature end that might offer a chance for a new rebirth.

With this determination, Song Haowen stopped hesitating and immediately halted the practice of reversing his meridians. Since qi was usually cultivated clockwise, he decided to increase the qi even more, hastening his own destruction. With a resolute mindset, he followed the meridian sequence, starting the clockwise cultivation.

To his surprise, following the usual sequence of cultivation would normally generate qi quickly, which would then flow into the dantian like a steady stream merging into the sea.

When the dantian was filled with qi, the practice would lose effectiveness, and qi production would cease. This time, however, as he practiced in the usual way, not only did he fail to generate qi, but a small amount of qi from the dantian was brought out into the meridians.

As he continued practicing, more and more qi entered the meridians, forming a powerful internal force – from fine as silk threads to a powerful and majestic force resembling the flow of a river.

Simultaneously, the pressure in the dantian sharply decreased. Although it remained vast like the sea, the swelling pain disappeared, replaced by a sense of calm, vastness, and mystery.

This revelation filled Song Haowen with immense joy. What was originally a suicidal mindset turned into a key to salvation. Instead of dying in misery, he gained legendary internal strength and acquired some internal skills.

What amazed him even more was that when he stopped practicing, the robust qi in the meridians automatically returned to the dantian. The returned qi didn’t cause his dantian to swell again, but instead, it vanished like rivers returning to the sea – natural, calm, and without a trace.

Moreover, unlike previous times when the qi entering the dantian would leave it empty immediately, a small portion of qi now remained in the meridians, continuously circulating, regardless of Song Haowen’s physical state—whether he was working or resting, it automatically practiced, aiding his internal skill advancement.

Just a moment ago, when Song Haowen was on the brink of death, he didn’t shed a tear. Now, he couldn’t help but weep tears of relief. Suddenly, a sound of firecrackers, seemingly from nowhere, jolted him awake.

After a moment of confusion, he realized that everything that just happened was a dream – a bizarre one that started with a nightmare and ended as a beautiful dream. Wiping away his tears with a towel, he consoled himself: “As long as everything is fine, that’s all that matters.”

By now, the day had dawned, and the firecrackers that had awakened Song Haowen continued to sound on the street. Unlike the solitary bursts earlier, this time they were a series of explosions, capturing his attention and igniting a feeling of excitement. In his previous life, due to urban firework bans, the city lacked excitement, surprise, and the fervor of life, becoming dull, monotonous, mechanical, and cold.

Song Haowen was no longer sleepy. He got out of bed and went to the courtyard, taking in a deep breath of the cool morning air. His mind instantly became clearer.

After stretching and flexing his neck and limbs, he instinctively began practicing the “Tai Chi Profound Technique.” Just as he settled into the posture, ready to push out a palm, he suddenly felt a surge of qi shooting out from his dantian, reaching his palm.

Startled, he involuntarily unleashed a burst of palm force that struck a ceramic flowerpot a meter away. The pot fell from the flowerbed to the tiled floor, shattering into pieces.

Song Haowen was startled, breaking out in a cold sweat. He immediately unleashed several palm strikes and discovered that each strike carried internal force, although not very powerful—only about ten kilograms of impact force.

Still, it was enough to astonish anyone. He suddenly realized that the scenes in his dream were real; he was just in a semi-conscious state at that time.

This revelation filled Song Haowen with joy and boosted his confidence. He thought that with time, as his qi increased, his internal strength would naturally become stronger. Becoming a martial arts expert was no longer a dream.

Continuing his practice, Song Haowen quickly became proficient in using the qi in his dantian to form internal forces of varying sizes. Not only did his attack power become formidable, but his defense also increased substantially.

As school time approached, Song Haowen reluctantly stopped his practice, suppressing his excitement. He picked up his backpack, bought two steamed buns from a roadside snack shop for breakfast, and then headed to school.

Upon entering the classroom, Song Haowen was summoned by Zhu Hongyu, who informed him that the counselor, Teacher Jin, needed to see him immediately. When asked about the reason, she shook her head, indicating she didn’t know.

Hearing the pre-class bell ring, he hesitated for a moment but decided to go to Teacher Jin’s office first to see what the matter was. If it was about explaining the article in yesterday’s “Beijing Evening News,” he needed to be prepared.

Entering the counselor’s office with an uneasy heart, Teacher Jin was sitting alone at her desk reading a book. He greeted her, and she looked up, smiling as she said, “Congratulations! You’re the only one in my class who applied for the postgraduate entrance exam, and you’ve passed the initial test. You’re eligible for the interview. Tomorrow afternoon, the school’s admissions committee will conduct interviews for students who passed the initial test. I hope you can pass smoothly. Here’s your interview notice.”

Song Haowen hadn’t expected that Teacher Jin wanted to see him about this matter. He was thrilled and, taking the notice, thanked her twice.

Teacher Jin looked kindly at the young student before her, filled with affection. “You don’t need to attend classes for the next two days. Go home and prepare for the interview according to the instructions on the notice. Although the interview doesn’t require a lot of knowledge, some questions still need thoughtful preparation. Otherwise, if asked, you might get nervous and give unrelated answers. Of course, I believe in you; your performance in the interview will surely be perfect.”

Exiting the counselor’s office, Song Haowen’s excitement remained difficult to calm. Although he had anticipated this outcome, having a master’s degree from Beijing University was an ideal he had dreamt of in his previous life.

Song Haowen didn’t fully follow Teacher Jin’s advice; instead, he insisted on attending all four morning classes. Even though he didn’t understand what the teachers were talking about in the end, he persevered.

During the break, Zhu Hongyu asked about Teacher Jin’s reason for calling him, and he didn’t dare to tell the truth, casually mentioning it was about the newspaper. Zhu Hongyu didn’t doubt him and changed the topic with a smile.

However, Song Haowen obediently took an afternoon leave of absence. With Zhu Hongyu’s lingering questions, he returned to the store alone.

Upon entering, Qian Youlai informed him, “Master, you’ve arrived at the right time. There’s something I need to tell you. This morning, while collecting second-hand appliances from the neighborhood, I met an old man who wants to sell several ancient paintings from his collection. If you’re interested, I can take you to have a look; it’s not far from here.

“Upon hearing Qian Youlai mention calligraphy and paintings, Song Haowen couldn’t help but recall the fake painting he bought for 300 yuan from Ajie when he first started collecting: “Tang Bohu Dian Qiu Xiang” (Tang Bohu Plucking Autumn).

He still kept that painting in a drawer, unable to part with it. Whenever he looked at it, thoughts of Ajie and her daughter, Amei, as well as their unfortunate fate, filled him with compassion. Discarding the painting felt like discarding them, making him uncomfortable.

Despite obtaining treasures such as the Sword of King Wu, Chenghua Doucai Chicken Cup, imperial green glass-type jade, pigeon blood ruby, and many Song, Yuan, Ming, and Qing dynasty furniture and antiques, he had not collected any genuine masterpieces of ancient calligraphy and painting.

This was a significant regret for him. Therefore, when he heard about someone selling ancient calligraphy and paintings, despite some reservations, curiosity overwhelmed him, and he immediately expressed his willingness to take a look.

Riding his bicycle with Qian Youlai on the back, they traveled two streets and arrived at a place called “Cat Alley.” Qian Youlai walked up to a faded red-painted gate, knocked twice, and soon a man in his fifties opened the door, smiling and saying, “Why are you here again?”

Qian Youlai promptly introduced both parties. It was then that Song Haowen learned that the slim and shrewd-looking man in front of him was the antique painting collector referred to by Qian Youlai – Old Pang.

After hearing that Song Haowen was interested in purchasing ancient paintings, Old Pang, upon seeing the well-mannered young man, allowed Song and Qian to enter through the gate.

Upon entering, Song Haowen noticed it was a small courtyard with eight or nine rooms, mostly closed and seemingly uninhabited. Old Pang led them into the main room, offered them tea, and after a brief chat, took out several seemingly old scrolls of calligraphy and painting, placing them on the dining table. Then, with great care, he opened a calligraphy piece.

Approaching to take a look, Song Haowen saw it was a cursive script with a passage from the “Diamond Sutra.” The writing was ethereal, free-spirited, well-organized, and full of vitality – undoubtedly a fine work.

Looking at the signature, which included the characters “Qi Chang” and a seal, he was surprised because, in his previous life, he knew that Dong Qichang was a renowned calligrapher and painter of the Ming Dynasty, ranking among the top ten ancient Chinese calligraphers. If this calligraphy was genuinely the work of Dong Qichang, it would be a significant find.

With this in mind, Song Haowen asked about the background of this calligraphy.

Old Pang explained that these calligraphy and paintings were brought back by his son several years ago from somewhere outside.

 They were stored in a camphorwood box and hadn’t been opened until recently. Last year, his son died in a car accident, and his former wife had already separated from him. Now living alone, guarding this large house felt too lonely, so he thought about renting part of the house out.