Under One Person: Starting from the Inheritance of Gods

Chapter 377 Fan Xian: I've received a magical... uh, a newbie gift pack! [Please subscribe!]

Faced with Meng Fan's scrutinizing gaze, Fan Xian felt inexplicably guilty. He involuntarily looked down and stammered.

"This world is alright, I guess. Although it's not any dynasty I know of, it's still a standard ancient dynasty."

"By the way, unlike the dynasties in history, the unique true qi here is also a major highlight. There are martial artists from the first to the ninth rank, and above the ninth rank there are grandmasters."

Fan Xian's eyes even held a hint of longing. In his previous life, he was a patient with myasthenia gravis who could only lie in bed. In this life, however, he could cultivate true qi martial arts, just like in martial arts novels.

He may have fantasized about riding a horse with a sword, seeking revenge and settling scores, or he may have fantasized about living a carefree life in the martial arts world, admired by thousands, but at this stage, all of that has come to an end because of his identity.

Right now, he's just an illegitimate son of the Fan family who hasn't even left the beginner's village and only has the waist badge of the Supervisory Bureau.

After listening to Fan Xian's answer.

Meng Fan nodded slightly and said, "Is that all?"

"Gone!"

Fan Xian answered decisively.

Meng Fan smiled slightly, whether he was laughing at Fan Xian's shallow understanding or something else, but it was understandable, since Fan Xian had not yet experienced those things and had not felt the cruelty of the ancient dynasties.

Imperial power, aristocratic families, powerful clans, social hierarchy...

Mountains upon mountains weighed down on ordinary people, making it hard for them to breathe.

Fan Xian is still the carefree boy from Danzhou, with a strong rural air about him, and even a bit chubby in his cheeks.

Having not experienced the "ravages" of storms, he has not yet matured, and his eyes still hold a sense of ignorance and innocence.

Meng Fan put down his teacup and asked, "What do you think was the cheapest item in ancient society?"

Fan Xian pondered for a moment: "Let's use grass, after all, weeds can be seen everywhere by the roadside."

Meng Fan shook his head, and under Fan Xian's puzzled gaze, suddenly smiled and said, "You're wrong, terribly wrong. The cheapest thing is a person!"

Upon hearing this answer, Fan Xian's expression faltered.

Meng Fan casually picked up a bamboo leaf and placed it in his palm. In Fan Xian's eyes, it instantly turned into ashes and scattered with the wind.

"Humans are like ants, their lives are like grass, they live like mayflies and die like dust."

"These vast people formed the enormous Southern Qing and Northern Qi, as well as the Eastern Yi, the Golden Tent Royal Court, the Left Tent Royal Court, the Right Tent Royal Court, and the Southern vassal states, etc."

"Humans are like worn-out horses and livestock!"

"It seems you haven't realized that, born in an ancient dynasty, the so-called human rights and the equality you perceive will no longer exist."

"They can be bought and sold at will. People are born different. The distinction between the noble and the lowly, the different classes, is ingrained in their very bones."

"The emperor is the shepherd, shepherding cattle and sheep, and the common people."

"If the emperor is like a farmer, then the officials are like sheepdogs. They can bar their teeth at the cattle and sheep, discipline them, and set rules, and the cattle and sheep must obey them."

"Farmers need to ensure the healthy growth of their cattle and sheep, as well as the vitality of their dogs. So, they will slaughter one or two cattle or sheep from time to time, and after enjoying the fattest parts themselves, they will give the remaining scraps and offal to the dogs."

"Even after they've tasted the sweetness of success, these sheepdogs will band together and, by blaming a particular cow or sheep for being disobedient, they'll share a feast with the farmer while vying for credit and rewards."

"The farmer is full, the sheepdog is full, and who cares about the remaining bones piled up by the fire?"

"Those who have already benefited?"

"Who dares to accuse me, the magistrate? How ironic!"

Meng Fan seemed to have revealed a bloody truth to Fan Xian, one that Fan Xian had never thought of before, or rather, never wanted to think of.

"Now, can you tell me if the world as you perceive it is really that good?"

Fan Xian remained silent for a long time before slowly raising his head and looking at Meng Fan, asking, "What exactly do you want to say?"

Meng Fan smiled meaningfully, and instead of answering Fan Xian's question directly, he began to talk about something else.

"Do you know that there is a stone tablet next to the gate of the Kyoto Auditorium, and the inscription on it is quite astonishing?"

"I hope that the laws of Qing Kingdom will be established for the benefit of the people, without tolerating the noble or depriving the poor, without causing unjust grievances or imposing crimes, and that the law will be respected like a sword to dispel superstition and delusion, without seeking divine intervention."

"I hope that the people of Qing Kingdom will have truth to follow, know etiquette, uphold benevolence, not judge success or failure by money, not succumb to power, sympathize with the weak, hate injustice, be firm in their will in times of crisis, and constantly reflect on themselves when no one is around."

"I hope that there will be no more oppression and constraints in this world, and that all people born into this world will have the right to live, the right to freedom, and the right to happiness."

"May there come a day when all people are born equal, with no distinction between noble and lowly, and may we protect life and pursue the light. This is my heart's desire. Though there may be many twists and turns, I will not be afraid to move forward. We are born equal, and everyone can be like a dragon."

After listening to Meng Fan's account of the inscription, Fan Xian was somewhat agitated. However, he also clearly realized that if he dared to say such things in an ancient dynasty, it would be tantamount to courting death. Should he say that this person was incredibly audacious or fearless?
Then, Meng Fan continued, "There should have been two more sentences after this stone tablet, but the current Emperor Qing has erased them. Do you want to know what those two sentences were?"

"what?"

Fan Xian was now even more curious about what other surprising things the person who wrote this inscription might say.

"I hope that every citizen of the Qing Kingdom can become a king; a unique king who rules over the territory that is called his own."

Fan Xian shook his head: "It's unrealistic. What's written on this stele is simply impossible to achieve, and those in power would never tolerate such things. It's tantamount to challenging imperial authority."

Meng Fan nodded and said, "Yes, but someone still wrote it that way, so she was killed!"

Then, Meng Fan looked intently at Fan Xian and said, "And this person is your mother, Ye Qingmei!"

Fan Xian's pupils suddenly contracted, and his fingertips unconsciously dug into his palm.

The wind outside the pavilion suddenly stopped, and even the rustling of bamboo leaves seemed to freeze in the air.

Ye Qingmei.

This name is like a thin blade, suddenly opening the dusty brocade box of his memory. Whenever Uncle Wuzhu mentions this name, his tone rises and falls, as if he regards it as his only source of existence.

Ye Qingmei looked down on all the men in the world.

It's hard to imagine how arrogant his adoptive mother was, that she would write such a shocking statement.

As the saying goes, being half a step ahead is genius, being a full step ahead is madness. How can such ideas, which are ahead of their time and challenge the current imperial laws, be tolerated?

No wonder he was in a situation of being hunted down from the moment he was born with consciousness.

"I see."

Fan Xian heard his own voice floating in the void, as light as a wisp of smoke.

Meng Fan's teacup reflected the sunlight, and half a green leaf floated in the clear tea soup, resembling a drowned butterfly corpse.

"Your mother planted seeds on the edge of the precipice of power, hoping that flowers would bloom from a pile of bones."

He lightly tapped the table with his finger, causing ripples in his cup. "Now it's your turn, Fan Xian..."

"Will you be a dog that kneels to eat meat, or a fool who holds a torch against the wind?"

Fan Xian suddenly chuckled softly.

“Sir, this cup of tea today,” he said, raising his hand to splash the cold, stale tea onto the steps, the water streaking like a snake’s tongue, “is so bitter it’s invigorating.” Meng Fan, however, took a small sip of the tea in the cup, as if savoring its flavor, “Bamboo leaf tea, of course it’s bitter.”

"Whoo~"

Fan Xian let out a long sigh and said frankly, "I don't have my mother's ambitions or abilities. My only wish in this life is to be a wealthy and leisurely person."

After saying that, Fan Xian turned the teacup upside down in front of Meng Fan, his words sealing the deal.

"is it?"

Meng Fan smiled slightly, his expression unreadable.

That meaningful smile sent a chill down Fan Xian's spine, as if the other party knew everything and that he was like a puppet in their grasp. This feeling made him very uncomfortable.

So Fan Xian spoke up, taking the initiative: "I've answered your question, now it's your turn to answer mine!"

"who are you?"

"What's your purpose?"

"Are you really...?"

Fan Xian paused for a moment before asking the last question.

"Am I from modern society or not?" Meng Fan looked at him with a half-smile. "You still want to ask if you can go back?"

Fan Xian's eyes lit up, and he appeared quite eager and excited.

Before Fan Xian could ask again, Meng Fan nodded and said, "I do come from modern society, but I am somewhat different from what you expected."

"What do you mean?"

Fan Xian frowned upon hearing this.

Meng Fan used an analogy, saying, "If we compare time to a river, modern society is in the middle stream, while the time period you are in now is in the lower stream."

Time once gone can never be returned, so how can you go back?

"This is the future!"

Fan Xian's fingertips suddenly trembled, and the teacup made a crisp cracking sound as it hit the bluestone table.

He stared at Meng Fan, his pupils slightly contracting, as if trying to see a trace of a lie in the other's eyes. But those eyes were too deep, like an ancient well with no bottom, reflecting his own pale face.

"The future?" he murmured, his voice so soft it was as if he were afraid of shattering something, his expression panicked and bewildered. "This is impossible..."

The swaying bamboo shadows cast mottled dark marks on Fan Xian's robes. When the wind swept by, those shadows were like countless tiny claws, quietly clinging to him.

He suddenly felt cold, a chill that went straight to his bones.

Meng Fan picked up a fallen bamboo leaf, and with a flick of his fingertip, fine frost appeared between the veins of the leaf.

"You thought you had traveled through time and returned to the past, or rather, traveled through space and arrived in another world, but in reality..."

He raised his hand, and frost flowers fell in a flurry: "You simply went downstream and arrived at a turning point forgotten by history."

Fan Xian's breath hitched for a moment.

He recalled the morning mist of Danzhou, the waves of Tanzhou, and those details so different from the ancient times he remembered: internal energy, martial arts, the Surveillance Bureau...

However, some of the words and habits are strikingly similar to those in my previous life. Even if I ask others, they will only say that they have existed since ancient times, but when it comes to their origin, they can't say for sure.

Everything became clear. This was neither the past he knew nor another world, but a strange future.

"And what about modern..." His Adam's apple bobbed, his voice hoarse, "...modern civilization?"

Meng Fan looked towards the distant sky, where twilight was swallowing the last rays of the sunset.

“Something new will always emerge from the ashes of civilization.” He chuckled, but there was no smile in his eyes. “For example, true qi, or… Grandmaster.”

Fan Xian suddenly stood up, his robes spilling over a teacup. Amidst the sound of shattering porcelain, he heard the thunderous pounding of his own heart.

It turns out, he never looked back.

He simply reached the end of time.

Looking at Fan Xian, who was caught in self-doubt, Meng Fan suddenly stood up, took out a small booklet from his pocket, handed it to Fan Xian, and said.

"I know your cultivation method is domineering and your true energy is not easy to control. Today is our first meeting, so I'm giving you a small gift as a token of our greeting!"

Fan Xian unconsciously took it, and on the title page of the booklet were four ancient seal characters: "Nine Yang Divine Skill"!

Fan Xian's lips twitched involuntarily, giving him a look that said, "You're kidding me."

Then he opened the booklet, and the contents of the exercise came into view.

"General principle: Let him be strong, the breeze still caresses the mountain ridge; let him be ruthless, the bright moon still shines on the great river. Let him be cruel and wicked, I have enough true energy."

"Nine Yang represents the ultimate in both strength and gentleness, the balance of Yin and Yang; the fusion of Buddhism and Taoism, the convergence of all methods. Those who practice it are immune to all poisons and impervious to all evil; upon mastery, strength and gentleness are at will, and power erupts like a tidal wave..."

This practice includes not only breathing exercises and guiding techniques, but also methods for circulating energy throughout the body, mental cultivation techniques, healing techniques, gecko wall-climbing exercises, and bone-shrinking exercises.

It looks quite plausible, and the cultivation method is much more complex than the domineering true qi I cultivate.

According to what Fan Xian knows, the Nine Yang Divine Skill integrates the ultimate principles of martial arts. Once mastered, all martial arts in the world can be used, internal energy is generated at an extremely fast and inexhaustible speed, and even ordinary punches and kicks can unleash tremendous attack power.

Its defensive capabilities are unparalleled, with an automatic protective function that deflects external attacks, making it an indestructible body; it is also a holy grail of healing, immune to all poisons, and specifically designed to counter all cold and yin-type internal forces.

But no matter how good the technique is, it's just something made up in a novel, so how could it be real?

This technique is indeed real, but it was retrieved by Meng Fan from the river of time within the Tianlong World after he gained control of it.

Seeing Fan Xian's reaction, Meng Fan laughed and said, "It's a genuine martial arts manual. Whether you practice it or not, whether you believe it or not, is entirely up to you."

"I've said enough to you today. See you at the next stop."

"Wait, when can I see you again?" Fan Xian asked anxiously, trying to stop Meng Fan.

But to everyone's surprise, Meng Fan's figure turned into a wisp of white smoke and vanished into thin air, leaving only a voice in the void: "If fate allows, we will meet again!"

The rustling of bamboo leaves filled the air with a sense of emptiness.

If it weren't for seeing it with his own eyes and the martial arts manual in his hand, Fan Xian would rather believe that he had just had a dream.

He returned to the Fan residence in a daze, ignoring everyone who greeted him along the way, and even ignoring the sarcastic remarks made by Steward Zhou.

He returned to his room and forbade any outsiders from entering the courtyard.

Then, suppressing his excitement, he carefully examined the absurd "Nine Yang Divine Skill" manual.

Well, it’s so sweet!

(End of this chapter)