Chinese animation: Starting with Bad Guys

He snuggled even closer into Ying Zheng's arms, his nose almost brushing against his brother's clothes, his breath filled with the scent of ambergris mixed with pine soot ink—the scent that belonged to the King of Qin, carrying the aura of power.

Only then did Yanfei gently place her fingertips on his wrist.

A slightly cool sensation came over me, and then an extremely pure power surged into my pulse.

Unlike the raw power of internal force, this force is more like a living thing, able to move freely with the flow of qi and blood, and can clearly perceive even the finest folds of the meridians wherever it passes.

Qin Chuan focused his mind and guided the flow of this power to those deliberately created "old wounds"—the blockages caused by being hit by stones, the stagnation caused by being soaked in cold water, and the disorder caused by being overly frightened.

At the same time, he immersed his mind in the deepest part of his consciousness, simulating the soul fluctuations that the child huddled in the corner of the alley in Handan should have: broken, fearful, and full of distrust of the world.

Yan Fei's brows furrowed almost imperceptibly.

What she perceived was a body worn down and riddled with holes, its vital energy as weak as a candle flickering in the wind, and its soul scattered like broken glass, each piece gleaming with a chilling light of fear.

This perfectly matched the King of Qin's description of "foolishness." But just as her power touched the core of that chaos, she caught a very faint "alien feeling"—not power, but a kind of... resilience.

Like a steel needle hidden in a pile of shattered glass, it is fine yet hard, possessing a sharpness that does not belong to this frail body.

Is it a stress response after the soul leaves the body? Or...?

"Your Highness Dongjun?" Ying Zheng's voice interrupted her thoughts, tinged with barely perceptible urgency, "My brother Chuan's health..."

Yan Fei withdrew her finger, and the golden light at her fingertip quietly dissipated.

She looked at Ying Zheng, her voice regaining its previous clarity: "Your pulse is weak and feeble, and you are deficient in both qi and blood, a sign of chronic illness and weakness. What is even more troublesome is that your spirit and soul have been damaged, fear has seeped into your marrow, and your mind is scattered, as if your soul has left your body."

She paused, carefully choosing her words:

"This cannot be cured by ordinary medicine. It requires the use of Yin-Yang secret techniques to set up a spirit-guiding array, drawing in the gentle energy of heaven and earth daily to nourish the soul and stabilize the spirit, and then supplementing it with a tonic to strengthen the foundation and nourish the vital energy. Perhaps then there is hope... to restore the spirit."

"Is there any hope?" Ying Zheng repeated these four words, his tense shoulders relaxing slightly, and his gaze towards Qin Chuan softened considerably. "Thank you for your trouble, Lord Dongjun. Please do not hesitate to ask for the materials needed for the formation."

"Your Highness, you are too kind." Consort Yan bowed slightly. "The spirit-summoning array needs to be set up in the young master's bedroom. It needs to be cast once a day for seven days. We will observe its effectiveness before deciding on the next steps."

"Very well." Ying Zheng said without hesitation, "This hall will be for your use. I will order that no one is allowed to trespass."

Consort Yan responded and turned to walk towards an open space in the hall.

Her steps were extremely slow, yet they carried a certain mysterious rhythm. With each step, a point of crimson-gold light would condense at her fingertips and gently flick it toward the ground.

The light spot entered the blue brick and transformed into an extremely thin line of fire, outlining intricate patterns on the ground, like a burning spider web.

Qin Chuan nestled in Ying Zheng's arms, his eyes catching a glimpse of the trail of fire, and he sneered inwardly.

The first step was a trial, and it was successful.

As the spirit-guiding array was set up, a warm white light illuminated the hall. Seven colors of spiritual energy flowed within the array's patterns, like seven-colored threads weaving together into a vast net that enveloped Qin Chuan.

Yan Fei stood outside the formation, her red lips slightly parted, and she began to chant an obscure incantation. The incantation was not loud, but it carried a strange penetrating power, drawing the spiritual energy of heaven and earth into the formation continuously.

Qin Chuan sat cross-legged on the couch, his eyes closed and head bowed, seemingly obediently accepting the nourishment of spiritual energy, but deep within his sea of ​​consciousness, turbulent waves had already been stirred up.

The syllables of the incantations, the frequency of the spiritual energy flow, the resonance of the array nodes... everything was as clear as the lines on the palm.

The seven basic spiritual energies of metal, wood, water, fire, earth, yin, and yang, under the guidance of Yan Fei, are fused together in a specific ratio to create the "soul-soothing" technique.

Faced with his extraordinary comprehension bestowed upon him by the god of Chinese animation, this set of introductory secret techniques of the Yin-Yang School was as simple as a child's doodle.

He tried to mobilize a wisp of internal energy deep within his dantian, mimicking the characteristics of the "Li Huo" energy in the formation.

On the first attempt, the internal force dissipated as soon as it touched the spiritual energy—the fundamental difference between the two power systems was too great.

But in just one breath of deduction, he grasped the key: the scorching heat of the fire energy did not originate from temperature, but from the ultimate condensation of the "fire" attribute.

On the second attempt, that wisp of internal energy actually simulated the characteristics of the fire, though weak, it was astonishingly pure!

Yan Fei's pupils contracted slightly outside the formation.

She clearly sensed that the spiritual energy in the formation suddenly showed a very subtle fluctuation—a wisp of newly born fire energy was spontaneously generated from the boy's body, carrying the same purity as the fire elemental energy of heaven and earth!

That's absolutely impossible!

How could a fool who has never been exposed to cultivation and whose soul is shattered possibly generate such pure fire energy on his own?

She subconsciously intensified her guidance, trying to suppress the wisp of fire, but the faint flame suddenly became active, like an enraged young beast, gently throbbing within the spiritual energy net.

Its purity was so great that even Dongjun, who had been immersed in fire magic for decades, was secretly shocked.

Just then, Qin Chuan instinctively mobilized the "earth element" spiritual energy in the formation, trying to envelop the wisp of fire—the two attributes were inherently incompatible, instantly causing a slight disturbance.

He let out a low groan at just the right moment, his brows furrowed, and his face flushed an unnatural red, as if he were in great pain.

Yan Fei immediately fell silent, and the spiritual energy net within the formation instantly dimmed.

She strode forward, golden light flashing at her fingertips, quickly smoothing out the slight disturbance, but her gaze towards Qin Chuan had completely changed.

It's no longer about seeing a patient who needs pity, but about seeing a piece of unpolished jade that contains the true fire of the sun.

"Your Highness, King Qin!" She turned to Ying Zheng, who was hurrying towards her, her voice filled with barely suppressed excitement, even forgetting to maintain her usual aloofness. "The young master has spontaneously generated the Qi of the Fire Element within his body! It is extremely pure! This is no accident, it is a talent! It is a spiritual talent that is naturally compatible with the origin of the Fire Element!"

Ying Zheng was stunned. He looked down at Qin Chuan, whose face was pale, a hint of pride flashing in his eyes, but more so, worry:

"So... is this good or bad for Brother Chuan?"

"It is both a blessing and a danger!" Yan Fei's voice was resolute. "Such extraordinary talent, if properly guided, will lead to limitless achievements in the future! But he is currently mentally unstable and has no one to teach him. If this talent is allowed to develop instinctively, it will at least damage his meridians, and at worst, it will attract the backlash of the fire energy of heaven and earth, with unimaginable consequences!"

She stepped forward, her gaze, illuminated by the sunlight, fixed intently on Ying Zheng with an unprecedented earnestness:

"Your Highness! The basic spells of this spirit-guiding array are insufficient to nurture your talent; in fact, they may hinder your development! You must be guided by more profound fire-elemental secrets, and you need a master who specializes in this field to provide close guidance!"

Ying Zheng frowned: "What does Dongjun mean..."

"I humbly request Your Highness's permission!"

Yan Fei took a deep breath, as if she had made a tremendous decision:

"I wish to remain in Xianyang and personally instruct the young master! At the same time, I must send a letter to His Majesty the Eastern Emperor, earnestly requesting that he make an exception and open some of the Fire Element Secret Scrolls in the Treasury of Dharma—only the secret techniques accumulated by the Yin-Yang School over a thousand years are worthy of the young master's talent and can ensure his safety!"

Her voice carried an almost devout fervor, but her gaze unconsciously swept past Ying Zheng's shoulder and landed on Qin Chuan's face.

The boy had his head down, his long eyelashes trembling like the wings of a startled butterfly, and his fingers gripping Ying Zheng's sleeve were white, showing a completely dependent expression.

But the moment her gaze inadvertently met his lowered eyes, Yanfei felt a strange stirring in her heart.

Deep within those eyes, there seemed to be a faint hint of...mockery?

It was so fast it felt like an illusion, and I was instantly overwhelmed by fear.

"Brother Zheng..." Qin Chuan's voice was barely audible, trembling with sobs, "My head feels so hot... I feel terrible..."

Ying Zheng immediately snapped out of his daze, pulling him even closer, his gaze towards Yan Fei now filled with determination:

"Your Majesty grants your permission."

"Thank you, Your Highness Prince Qin!"

Yan Fei bowed in agreement. When she looked up again, the fervor in her eyes had faded, leaving only a calm confidence.

Looking at the boy being protected in Ying Zheng's arms, a thought suddenly flashed through her mind: Such talent, such a soul... if he could be sculpted by the Yin-Yang School, if he could be used by the Eastern Emperor...

And that fleeting illusion just now, was it real, or just her imagination?

This boy named Ying Chuan was like a bottomless well, making her want to explore him.

Qin Chuan lowered his eyes, concealing the sharpness in them. He could sense that Yan Fei's gaze lingered on him for a moment longer, and that gaze, besides coveting his talent, seemed to hold something else—curiosity? Inquiry?

A subtle, unnoticed smile curved his lips.

The fish not only took the bait, but also seemed to develop an interest in the bait itself.

The gates of the Hidden Dharma Pavilion were now in sight, and this contest with Dongjun Yanfei seemed to be even more interesting than he had anticipated.

The wind in the corridor swirled up withered leaves, which rustled against the windowpanes. In the paulownia tree, a crow stared into the palace with its blood-red eyes, as if foreseeing the impending storm that would sweep through Xianyang.

Chapter 3: A Few Things About Yanfei and Zheng Ge

Before the white light of the spirit-guiding array had completely faded, Yanfei had already set up a simple altar in the corner of the palace.

A strange fragrance wafted from the bronze incense burner. Three tortoise shells engraved with flame patterns were arranged in an array on the table. Crimson light emanated from her fingertips as she used incantations to activate the tortoise shells to manifest.

Qin Chuan huddled in the corner of the bed, clutching the plush rabbit that Ying Zheng had specially left behind, his eyes timidly fixed on the pulsating crimson light.

In reality, his divine sense had already spread out, taking in all of Yan Fei's hand gestures and the rhythm of her incantations.

These past few days, Consort Yan has come to perform her magic every day, ostensibly to nourish his soul, but secretly to constantly test his potential.

Sometimes they would use the spiritual energy of the wood element to test his tolerance, and sometimes they would use the sharp energy of the metal element to provoke his resilience, but he would calmly defuse them with the appearance of being "foolish".

"Young master, shall we try drawing upon this wisp of fire-elemental spiritual energy today?"

Yan Fei turned around, holding a three-inch-tall flame in her palm. The flame flickered but was not hot to the touch; instead, it exuded a gentle warmth.

As she walked over, the crimson-gold raven feathers on her hair ornament swayed gently, and her profile softened slightly under the halo of light.

Qin Chuan shrank back and hugged the plush rabbit even tighter: "I'm afraid... it will burn my hands."

"It's alright." Yan Fei's voice was very gentle, with a reassuring tone. "This is a gentle spiritual fire, it can't hurt anyone. You just need to reach out your hand and imagine it getting closer."

She deliberately slowed her speech, the flame at her fingertips flickering gently with each word, as if enticing her.

Qin Chuan hesitated, then slowly reached out his hand.

Just as her fingertips were about to touch the flame, she abruptly pulled back, her eyes instantly reddening: "It's hot..."

A hint of impatience flashed in Yan Fei's eyes, but she quickly suppressed it.

These past few days, she's almost lost her patience with his foolish appearance, but every time she wants to give up, she remembers the pure fire that spontaneously arose within his body during that night in the spirit-guiding array.

That was a talent that no ordinary person could possess. She firmly believed that this apparent foolishness was merely a facade, and that beneath it lay an extraordinary hidden gem.

"It's not hot, you see."

She bent her finger and gently touched the flame. The flame swirled at her fingertip, as docile as a kitten.

Qin Chuan stared at her fingertips, then looked at his own hand, and suddenly slowly stretched out his hand again.

This time he didn't pull back, letting the cluster of warm spiritual fire fall into his palm.

The instant the flame touched his skin, he clearly sensed that Yan Fei's consciousness was attached to the flame, trying to penetrate his meridians like a probe.

He sneered inwardly, but his face showed surprise, his fingers curling slightly as if he were feeling the strange warmth.

At the same time, he secretly mobilized his internal energy, mimicking the frequency of flames to tremble slightly, cleverly deflecting the probing divine sense.

"Warm..." he whispered, a silly smile spreading across his face.