Chapter 10: The All-Manifestations Attribute
Li Hao wondered to himself—if he were to measure his bones again, what would the outcome be?
But the chance had come only once; the old Daoist on Mount Qingqiu would not make mistakes.
Since that day of the bone-measuring, he could clearly feel that the bustling activity at Shanhe Courtyard had diminished. In the past, ladies from various courtyards would often bring their children over to play or invite him over to taste some unique pastries or small fresh fruits brought from the frontier or small foreign kingdoms. These ladies would encourage their children to play with Li Hao, trying to cultivate connections from a young age.
However, two months had passed, and only the First Lady, Fifth Aunt, and the young Ninth Aunt had come to visit him.
Seeing that he was in good health, they did not come again.
Occasionally, however, he would still receive fruit pears and pastries sent over from Changchun Academy.
Now that winter had arrived, he also received two sets of snugly tailored pants and cotton-padded jackets made from soft wild animal fur, along with a scarf.
Li Hao placed the scarf around the little girl’s neck.
…
The next day.
At dawn, Lin Haixia was already practicing swordsmanship in the courtyard with Bian Ruxue.
Earlier, Lin Haixia had let the child choose from a variety of weapons on the rack, allowing her to try them out to test her natural talent with each. In the end, Bian Ruxue chose the sword.
Through training, Lin Haixia found that she indeed had an aptitude for the way of the sword, so he began instructing her diligently, even sternly at times.
Around noon, Li Hao lazily woke up. Not yet six years old, he was exempt from the family rules and did not need to make a morning visit to Changchun Academy to pay respects to the First Lady each morning, so he was free to sleep in comfortably.
Seeing the small figure practicing hard in the courtyard, Li Hao shook his head slightly, muttering to himself, “Poor thing.” Then, with the help of his personal maid, he took the washbasin, had breakfast, and routinely called over two servants skilled in chess to set up a board in the pavilion.
Soon, a game was completed, but Li Hao noticed that he hadn’t received a notification of any experience points increase, leaving him momentarily stunned.
Then, he saw words appearing before him:
{Chess Dao Third Rank, requires a chess heart to progress further.}
A chess heart?
Li Hao was puzzled.
As if sensing his thoughts, the words slowly faded and were replaced by a new line:
[To cultivate a chess heart, one must devote oneself solely to the game, caring for nothing but chess.]
Well, that was a straightforward explanation.
Li Hao was a bit surprised that he could actually interact with the text.
“Hello?” he tried calling out.
The text vanished.
Li Hao attempted calling out several more times, but received no response. Giving up, he began pondering—so, he had to first cultivate a chess heart to gain experience?
In the Divine General Mansion, he had heard of sword hearts, spear hearts, and even sharp tongues with soft hearts.
But he had never heard of a chess heart.
It made sense; after all, chess was considered a minor pursuit, an unremarkable game to the Divine General Mansion.
However, a chess heart was probably similar to a sword heart, wasn’t it?
Listening to the casual conversations among the ladies when they held him in their arms, he often heard about how certain boys practiced swordsmanship daily from a young age, eating with a sword in hand, even sleeping with one, and how they advanced rapidly in the way of the sword after cultivating a sword heart.
So, if he wanted to cultivate a chess heart, would he need to do the same?
But did Li Hao even like the way of chess?
In his past life, he knew a little about it—but just a little.
Chess…who among proper people actually enjoys playing it?
Poker was far more enjoyable.
After a long workday, who still had the energy for such mentally taxing activities?
...
That was, unless he just wanted to try something new and occasionally switch up his recreational activities.
Even with the ability to gain experience points through the panel, Li Hao had only ever used it as a tool to farm skill points; expecting himself to truly fall in love with it, to be solely devoted to it…
That was difficult.
With a faint disbelief, Li Hao had a servant play another round with him.
And then he believed it.
This left Li Hao feeling a bit troubled, his small face scrunched up. Just as he was beginning to taste the sweetness of cultivation, he was told he couldn’t gain experience from chess anymore. How could this be?
Did this mean he really had to hold onto the chessboard every day?
But without experience points, what was the point of holding onto it?
If he had that free time, wouldn’t it be better to go hug Fifth Aunt…
Li Hao sighed, looking gloomy.
Over the next few days, Li Hao moved the chessboard onto his bed, covering it with a fur blanket and using it as a pillow.
During meals, he would place the chessboard beside him, treating it like a sacred idol.
However, this symbolic practice didn’t seem to have any effect.
Li Hao eventually stopped playing chess with the servants and spent his free time watching the little girl practice swordsmanship or browsing various books in Tingyu Pavilion.
One day, while flipping through books in Tingyu Pavilion, he came across a few pages of a chess manual within one book and was taken aback.
The book recorded amusing tales of a renowned figure from several centuries ago, who, after being humiliated as a youth, later sought revenge. However, his enemy had abandoned martial arts and taken up chess.
The legendary figure had once declared that he would utterly defeat his enemy, crush his spirit, and only then take his life.
Yet his opponent, who had been studying chess for years, challenged him to a chess match on the spot.
The legendary figure lost miserably. And, being quite stubborn, he didn’t kill his enemy immediately.
Instead, he slaughtered his enemy’s entire family, sparing no one—except his enemy, whom he told he would return to kill another day.
But in the end, he was never able to solve the puzzle on that chessboard until his death.
Reading this, Li Hao couldn’t help but laugh.
The enemy clearly knew the legendary figure well; although lacking in martial talent, he was clever enough to use this tactic to avoid death.
Suddenly, Li Hao found that chess seemed a bit intriguing.
It wasn’t entirely the Li family’s fault; even he, growing up in this martial world, had always considered chess merely a pastime, without any real significance.
But now, his perception shifted slightly.
{Detected chess manual ‘All-Manifestations.’ Would you like to record it?}
Unexpected words appeared before his eyes.
Li Hao suddenly remembered that there was a section on the panel for recording chess manuals.
It was clear he wasn’t truly interested in the way of chess, only using it as a means to gain skill points. Over the past five years, he hadn’t recorded even a single chess manual.
Feeling slightly guilty, Li Hao chose ‘yes’ immediately.
Soon, the panel displayed a new entry in the chess manual collection: All-Manifestations.
Moreover, there was a new prompt next to it—“Embeddable.”
Li Hao, curious, selected ‘embed.’
At that moment, another line of text appeared:
{Please select the target for embedding: Body Dao, Sword Dao.}
What did this mean?
After a brief contemplation, he selected Body Dao.
Having just started cultivating, he’d experienced the rush of power coursing through him and had grown somewhat eager about the potential of Body Dao.
[Embedding successful.]
Suddenly, Li Hao felt an overwhelming influx of information.
This sensation was familiar; within moments, he had fully absorbed it, and upon checking his panel, he saw:
【Body Dao: First Rank (All-Manifestations)】
The fragmented memories in his mind hinted at the changes that had taken place.
All-Manifestations: Places the target in a realm of all-manifestations, obscuring all auras and concealing any trace of energy.
Testing it out, Li Hao felt his entire aura instantly recede, his strength and energy seeming to draw inward, disappearing into countless pores, unobservable from the outside.
“A unique attribute?”
Li Hao was shocked. Who could have guessed that a chess manual could produce such effects? It was incredible.
With his second-rank Chess Dao, he could somewhat grasp the intricacies of this manual, with its layers of illusions within illusions, every move leading to a trap. It was no wonder that the legendary figure had been unable to solve it throughout his lifetime.
If he had chosen to embed it in Sword Dao instead, would his sword techniques have gained similar deceptive qualities, masking his true killing intent?
Paired with the spectacular moves of the Tidal Sword Technique, the effect would likely have been even more dazzling.
Li Hao looked at the panel again; the embeddable option next to the All-Manifestations manual had disappeared, indicating only one choice was possible.
However, this revelation opened a new world for him—so chess manuals were the true treasure!
If he could gather other types of chess manuals, wouldn’t he be able to enhance his attacks with various special buffs?
Thinking this, Li Hao eagerly searched through Tingyu Pavilion.
Yet, while Tingyu Pavilion was a sanctuary for martial artists, it wasn’t exactly a haven for chess players. After several days spent combing through its collection, Li Hao only managed to find three more chess manuals, with one even being used to prop up a shelf.
The titles of the manuals were Flying Slash, Hidden Bow, and Tiger Pressure.
After obtaining the three manuals, Li Hao studied them, analyzing the properties of each based on their unique characteristics. He embedded Flying Slash and Hidden Bow into Sword Dao, while Tiger Pressure was embedded into Body Dao.
- Flying Slash: Doubles attack range, granting long-distance strike capability.
- Hidden Bow: Conceals a killing move within, allowing for an unexpected strike.
- Tiger Pressure: Slightly increases strength and adds an intimidating aura.
The three chess manuals brought Li Hao a significant boost in strength.
Unfortunately, though the Divine General Mansion had an extensive collection of treasures, as a martial family, they had no tradition of preserving chess manuals.
Back in his courtyard, Li Hao had no choice but to tempt his servants with handsome rewards, asking them to go out and search for chess manuals on his behalf. However, the servants all hesitated, unwilling to support the young master on his “misguided path,” fearing it might lead him astray from serious pursuits.
Left without options, Li Hao resorted to offering heavy rewards as incentives.
In the days that followed, while waiting for new chess manuals, Li Hao also began to take his chess practice a bit more seriously.
He removed the blanket covering the chessboard on his bed and returned it to its usual place, and stopped setting the chessboard beside him during meals. Now, he spent his time either wandering around the courtyard or watching the little girl practice her swordsmanship.
Perhaps because she had endured hardship from a young age and had been uprooted from place to place, the girl displayed an exceptionally determined spirit. Under Lin Haixia’s guidance, her skills progressed noticeably.
“No, that move isn’t correct.”
On this day, while instructing her, Lin Haixia revealed the strict discipline of a military officer. Even though he was highly satisfied with Bian Ruxue’s natural talent in swordsmanship, he continued to criticize her when her moves were off.
With tears in her eyes, the little girl gritted her teeth and practiced the move repeatedly.
Watching from the side, Li Hao shook his head helplessly. Although Uncle Lin was a good person, he wasn’t necessarily adept at tailoring his approach to each student.
A few stern words, and the girl’s moves were starting to get sloppy.
That evening, seeing the little girl still practicing on her own in the courtyard, Li Hao called her over.
“This stance isn’t quite right—bend your arm a little. Yes, like that. Don’t tense your waist too much…”
With no one around, Li Hao gave the little girl some extra coaching, guiding her hand in hand.
Bian Ruxue was quick-witted, and with her natural aptitude for the way of the sword, she quickly improved her form under Li Hao’s guidance, even showing hints of sword intent in her stance.
“Brother Hao, you know swordsmanship too?” she asked eagerly after practicing, her eyes bright with excitement. “Can we train together tomorrow?”
“Don’t be silly! I’m not waking up early,” Li Hao replied, startled.
“If Uncle Lin knew you could practice swordsmanship, he’d be thrilled,” Bian Ruxue said with hopeful eyes. Though she didn’t fully understand it, she could sense that the elders around them seemed somewhat disappointed in Li Hao.
The young girl had a fierce determination, a will to prove them wrong. While everyone said that Brother Hao was lacking, she believed he was actually very clever.
“I don’t know swordsmanship—don’t go saying things you shouldn’t,” Li Hao quickly replied, cautioning her not to ruin his precious habit of sleeping in, or he might just die of despair.
Bian Ruxue looked at him, puzzled. “But you clearly…”
“Shoo, shoo! Go to bed, go to bed,” Li Hao rolled his eyes, sending the little girl off and reminding her not to speak carelessly.
...
The next day.
In the courtyard, Lin Haixia watched Bian Ruxue practicing her sword moves and gradually widened his eyes.