The world of film and television starts from the flow of money

As late autumn transitions into early winter in Chengdu, the humid air carries a hint of chill.

Yi Huwei did not leave this ancient city, but instead settled in a quiet, inconspicuous, and even somewhat dilapidated courtyard in the city.

Shedding all his attention-grabbing air, with his hair loose and wearing the same coarse linen clothes, he blended into the bustling streets of Chengdu like a taciturn wanderer.

During the day, he would spend a few copper coins in a steaming teahouse, order a pot of the most ordinary coarse tea, and sit in a corner, listening to the tea drinkers chatter animatedly about world affairs, anecdotes of the martial arts world, and the feuds between powerful families. He would also go to the bustling market, watching the vendors hawk their wares and the carriages of high-ranking officials pass by, observing the joys and sorrows, and the ways of survival of ordinary people in this era.

While warhorses neighed outside Hangu Pass and flames raged along the banks of the Yellow River, the land of Bashu, thousands of miles away, seemed to be isolated in another time and space by the towering Qinling Mountains, the Daba Mountains, and the turbulent Three Gorges.

The bloody battles and changing of kings on the Central Plains, the clashing of swords and the turmoil of war, were reduced to legends told by storytellers in Jinjiang teahouses, or to chilling tales brought by merchants and porters, their edges worn smooth by the journey.

The Chengdu Plain is a vast expanse of fertile land.

The ever-flowing streams of Dujiangyan continue to precisely nourish the crisscrossing rice paddies. In spring, rapeseed flowers bloom like a golden carpet, while in summer, waves of rice ripple across the landscape. In farmhouses, the sounds of chickens and dogs fill the air, and wisps of smoke rise from chimneys. While granaries may not overflow with grain, the fear of starvation is rare. Compared to the devastation of the Central Plains, where land was scorched and people resorted to cannibalism, the farmers of Sichuan at least have a few acres of land to tend to, relying on the weather for their livelihood, hoping for a basic living.

Chengdu, though no longer the bustling metropolis it once was, still retains a rare serenity amidst the chaos of war. The cobblestone streets remain teeming with people. In the silk shops, the luster of Shu brocade, though slightly dimmed, is still present; in the taverns and teahouses, though the extravagant spending of wealthy patrons is gone, they are filled with local gentry and traveling merchants, discussing local rice and salt prices, or exchanging whispered news from beyond the mountains. In the markets, locally produced rice, mountain goods, medicinal herbs, and well salt mingle with rare items from the Central Plains, painstakingly transported across the Shu Road, creating a delicate balance in the trade.

This "stability" was thanks to the iron fist and prestige of Jie Hui, the fortress commander. Elite warriors patrolled the area, deterring troublemakers and ensuring basic order within the Sichuan region. Jie Hui was the "judge of the martial arts world" in this land, and his will was the law of Sichuan. Merchants paid hefty "peace money," and farmers bore heavy taxes and corvée labor, but all of this seemed bearable after hearing of the endless wars, bandits, and oppressive policies in the Central Plains. After all, the sky above was still intact for the time being, and the land beneath their feet was still theirs for the time being.

However, beneath this "stability" lay shadows and anxieties. In teahouses, well-informed individuals would often discuss with concern: Had the alliance between the Jie Fortress Lord and the Lingnan Song Clan begun to crack? With the Li Tang dynasty's power growing ever stronger, would its reach extend to this southwestern bulwark? Wealthy families were secretly fortifying their homes and hoarding gold and silver; ordinary people were hastily stockpiling rice, grain, and salt as a precaution. Prices were rising slowly but steadily, especially for goods dependent on imported ironware and cloth.

This was the Shu region during a chaotic era, a vast and relatively peaceful "safe haven." It lacked the decadent extravagance of the Jiangnan water towns, the majestic spirit of the Guanzhong Plain, and even the boundless glory of being the southwestern hub of the empire.

But it possessed what countless refugees in the Central Plains dreamed of: land where food could be grown, a relatively orderly marketplace, and a sense of "peace" that allowed people to breathe in the midst of war and chaos.

The Jinjiang River still flows, the washerwomen by the Huanhua Stream still sing ancient tunes, and the aroma of tea from the covered bowls in the teahouses still wafts. This fragile peace, dependent on the protection of strongmen, is like a thin mist shrouding the Chengdu Plain, temporarily obscuring the blood-red sunset over the Central Plains, yet also causing constant anxiety, wondering when the mist will be blown away by the fierce winds from beyond the mountains.

The newly harvested rice was stored in the granary, and Jie Hui's Duzun Fort still cast a huge shadow over the north of Chengdu. In this delicate balance of "not good enough for the best, but better than the worst," the Shu region carefully maintained that precious breathing space in the chaotic world.

When the hustle and bustle subsided and all was quiet, the courtyard became his training ground. He sat cross-legged and focused all his energy on circulating the "Longevity Mantra".

A faint, purplish-gold glow flowed in the darkness, more solid and fluid than a month ago. The repulsive force of this world remained stubborn, like omnipresent shackles, but the extraordinary power of the *Longevity Manual*, pointing directly to the origin of life, had given him the "key" to unlock those shackles. Each cycle of energy circulation was like clearing a path through viscous mud—slow, yet unwavering. Beneath his newly formed jade-colored skin, the scorch marks had almost completely faded, leaving only a few deepest imprints, like ancient totems. His internal meridians, continuously cleansed by true energy, were slowly and tenaciously repairing themselves, and the heavy, mountain-like weakness was gradually dispelling.

However, the restoration of power was not without its challenges. Although the primordial energy of this world shared some similarities with the "Qi" of his original world, their attributes ultimately differed. While the Longevity Technique's conversion efficiency was high, it was still insufficient. Yi Huawei needed more "fuel" to accelerate this process, and at the same time, he needed a deeper understanding of the essence of the so-called "internal force" of the martial artists in this world.

Chengxi Fangshi.

Several burly thugs with bulging temples surrounded an elderly street performer and his granddaughter, hurling vulgarities and making unwanted physical advances. They were clearly attracted to the girl's beauty and wanted to forcibly seize the old man's guqin (a traditional Chinese stringed instrument), his means of livelihood. The surrounding crowd dared not speak out, only daring to watch from a distance.

Yi Huawei had no particular "chivalrous" heart towards bullying the weak. As a century-old emperor, he had witnessed the ugliness of the world. But the internal energy flowing within these martial artists piqued his interest—it was a unique form of energy in this world, impure and mixed, yet a concrete manifestation of the primordial energy of heaven and earth.

Yi Huawei walked over silently, appearing behind the leading martial artist like a ghost.

"roll."

A single word, hoarse and flat, yet carrying a chilling coldness that sends shivers down your spine.

The martial artist, who was arrogantly reaching out to grab the girl, was enraged upon hearing this and whirled around: "Where did this treasure come from...?"

Before he could finish speaking, his gaze met a pair of eyes as deep as an abyss.

There was no murderous intent, no anger, only a pure, indifferent disdain, as if looking down upon ants. The martial artist's arrogant aura froze instantly, as if doused with ice water, and a fear from the depths of his soul seized him!

"Dare to provoke the Supreme Fortress..."

But his blustering nature made him force himself to stand firm, and he drew the ring-pommel sword from his waist: "You're asking for death!"

A flash of light, accompanied by the sound of wind being cut, slashed towards Yi Huawei.

Yi Huawei didn't even lift his eyelids. He simply raised his right hand, his index and middle fingers together, and with perfect precision, flicked the point where the blade's light shone brightest and where the opponent's internal energy was most concentrated. *Clang!*
A crisp yet eerily eerie clang of metal clashing!
The martial artist felt an indescribable, overwhelming force surge through the blade! His tiger's mouth instantly split open, dripping with blood! What terrified him even more was that his years of painstakingly cultivated internal energy, like a burst dam, uncontrollably rushed towards the blade, only to be absorbed by the opponent's two fingers...!
"Ugh—!"

The martial artist let out a short, shrill scream, his body trembled violently, his face turned ashen at a visible speed, and his strong body collapsed as if his spine had been ripped out. His internal energy had been completely drained in a mere instant!

Yi Huawei's fingers did not leave the blade. He closed his eyes and concentrated, carefully observing the complex internal energy belonging to the martial artist of this world that was surging into his body.

"As expected... it's impure and contains a lot of acquired turbidity and personal impurities..."

He silently recited in his heart. Compared to the pure true essence he had obtained from cultivating the "Longevity Manual," this internal force was like muddy water compared to a clear mountain spring.

With a slight thought, he activated the Northern Darkness Divine Art. The Northern Darkness Divine Art is known for its ability to absorb all internal energy, transforming it into one's own. At this moment, however, he wasn't doing it to absorb it, but rather to explore the possibility of transformation!
The profound power of the Northern Darkness Divine Art formed a small vortex within his body, forcibly restraining, decomposing, and purifying the surging, impure internal energy! The process was far more difficult than he had imagined. The internal energy of this realm seemed to be more tightly integrated with flesh and blood, and with the individual's spiritual imprint, making impurities exceptionally stubborn. Forcibly converting it was not only extremely inefficient, yielding less than one-tenth of the original energy, but the "residue" produced during the conversion process also carried a strong impact from foreign spiritual forces and polluted by turbid energy, placing a burden on his meridians and sea of ​​consciousness.

Yi Huawei frowned slightly. This method was counterproductive. For him, who pursued the purity of the essence of power, this inefficient and highly polluting transformation method was like drinking poison to quench thirst.

As soon as the fingers left the blade, the martial artist collapsed to the ground like a limp rag doll, his eyes vacant, his breath weak, completely crippled.

The remaining thugs were terrified. They looked at Yi Huawei as if he were a demon from hell. With a scream, they scrambled away and fled, not even caring about their companions.

Yi Huawei didn't even glance at the people on the ground. His gaze swept over the still-shaken old man and the young girl, as well as the surrounding crowd who were frozen in fear. Without leaving a word, he turned and left, his figure quickly disappearing into the shadows of the market, as if he had never been there.

Although this "experiment" wasn't entirely successful, it wasn't without its gains. At least it gave him a clearer understanding of the characteristics of internal energy in this realm, as well as the drawbacks of forced conversion. The "Longevity Manual" remains fundamental, and the Northern Darkness Divine Art has limited value for reference unless a purer source of internal energy can be found, or the conversion method can be improved.

In the days that followed, he "encountered" several similar situations—either gang thugs who bullied others, bandit leaders who robbed people on the road, or martial arts guards who acted as accomplices to evil. Yi Huawei was like a reaper walking in the dark, each move was silent and silent, each time using only one move—either a finger or a palm strike—precisely contacting the moment the opponent's internal energy erupted, using the methods of the Northern Darkness Divine Art to forcibly absorb the opponent's internal energy, and then carefully observing, studying, and trying to transform it.

Each time, it was like conducting a meticulous dissection experiment, the subject of which was the source of internal energy of the martial artists of this world. Each time, he became more certain that relying on absorbing this mixed internal energy to recover was inefficient and fraught with huge hidden dangers, far inferior to focusing on cultivating the "Longevity Technique" and absorbing the relatively pure primordial energy between heaven and earth.

Time slipped away quietly as he observed the world like an ordinary person during the day and practiced the "Longevity Manual" and conducted dangerous "internal energy experiments" at night.

Two months later.

Winter has arrived, and fine snowflakes are falling in Sichuan.

In the secluded courtyard, Yi Huawei sat cross-legged on the cold stone slab, a thin layer of snowflakes covering his body, but he was completely unaware of it.

Within his body, the circulation of the Longevity Technique reached an unprecedented level of smoothness! The purplish-gold true essence flowed like a surging river through his broad, resilient meridians, which were now without a single crack! With each cycle, it drew upon the sparse spiritual energy of heaven and earth around him, forming an invisible vortex that converged into his body.

The charred scars that once covered his entire body had completely vanished. His new skin possessed a warm, understated luster, like the finest white jade, faintly radiating light in the dim snowy night. His muscles were fluid yet contained explosive power, and his bones were as tough as refined steel.

The most astonishing change came from his eyes. As he slowly opened them, a flash of purple-gold lightning seemed to disappear into the depths of his pupils! The indifference in his eyes remained, but now they held a new, almost divine quality, as if they could pierce through the void and control all things. An invisible, suffocating pressure emanated from him, and the snowflakes in the courtyard seemed to be brushed aside by an invisible hand, creating a snow-free area within three feet of him!
The damage to my body has finally been completely repaired!

However, just as his aura reached its peak, a very deep thunderclap, seemingly from beyond the heavens, came from the depths of the leaden sky! A tiny, almost invisible purplish-gold lightning bolt flashed and disappeared in the thick clouds! It was as if the will of the unseen had been disturbed once again, issuing a silent warning.

Yi Huawei looked up at the sky, his eyes cold, but a faint, cold smile appeared on his lips.

"The rejection persists... but at least this body can now bear more."

She stood up, gently brushing the snow off her body with a natural rhythm. Her loose hair fluttered slightly in the cold wind, and beneath her rough linen clothes lay a power powerful enough to shake the very rules of this world.

His two months in Chengdu—a period of observation, practice, experimentation, and repair—have come to an end.

Where to go next? Seek more profound martial arts classics for reference? Or explore the deeper mysteries of this world? Or perhaps... meet those who stand at the pinnacle of this world?

Yi Huawei's gaze was fixed on the distance, towards the Central Plains, a place where winds and clouds converged and dragons and snakes rose from the land.

(End of this chapter)