It’s not entirely fair to call Ding Yun foolish, but in many worlds where spiritual energy has resurged, the development of Qigong often follows a trajectory similar to what’s reported in newspapers: from initial ineffectiveness to becoming remarkably potent due to the spiritual energy’s influence.
And this was an unfamiliar world.
Even if the specific manifestations of the spiritual energy resurgence differed slightly from her prior understanding, it was still a reasonable assumption.
However, once she had identified the fake martial arts manuals, Ding Yun stopped overthinking.
Casually stuffing the manuals into her bag, she headed to school with a significantly lighter spirit and a spring in her step.
…
“Ding Yun, you’re looking at martial arts manuals too!”
As Ding Yun was tidying her schoolbag during the break between classes, her deskmate Song Haitang, whose eyes instantly recognized the martial arts books that stood out amongst her regular textbooks, expressed surprise and a sense of shared interest.
His tone carried a hint of happiness, the joy of finding a kindred spirit.
“Uh… I just bought a few out of curiosity.”
“I bought a lot of manuals too. Stuff like the Nine Yin Manual and the Nine Yang Divine Skill, I bought all of them. But the content inside is so hard to understand. I’ve been diligently studying classical Chinese, yet I still can’t comprehend much of it. I don’t know how to cultivate either. Your academic performance is so good; can you understand the content? If you can, could you teach me?”
Song Haitang was genuinely seeking advice. He truly believed he couldn’t learn because his grasp of classical Chinese was too poor and his aptitude insufficient. He never once considered that the manuals might be fake, merely meant to fool people.
Regarding this, Ding Yun told him the truth: “These manuals aren’t real, so how could anyone successfully cultivate from them? Even if you could understand them, it would be useless. Let me put it this way, out of these manuals, only this Tai Chi Fist Manual is genuine; the others are fake.”
As she spoke, Ding Yun pulled out the manuals she had bought at noon, placing the Tai Chi Fist Manual on top, and pointed to it.
“Ah, how could that be?”
“Um, Ding Yun, it’s okay if you don’t understand. I heard people say you need a master to teach you. Maybe you only think the manuals are fake because you don’t have a master guiding you. The newspapers say Qigong is real, so how could it be fake?”
Song Haitang largely disbelieved Ding Yun’s words. He even suspected she was saying the manuals were fake because she couldn’t understand them and felt embarrassed to admit it.
Facing someone so steadfastly convinced of something’s authenticity, Ding Yun truly didn’t know how to explain. Qigong had too many readily available excuses. Things like “you don’t understand the professional terminology,” “you need a master’s guidance; without one-on-one instruction, you can’t learn,” and “your inability to learn is due to your poor aptitude or lack of effort, not because the manuals are fake.” There were so many justifications.
So, after a moment’s hesitation, Ding Yun rolled her eyes and said, “Believe it or not,” then pushed the fake manuals, excluding the Tai Chi Fist Manual, towards Song Haitang. “If you believe them, they’re all yours.”
Since they were all fake manuals and just made her feel upset, she might as well give them to him. If he wanted to believe, let him practice.
However, after Ding Yun’s gesture, Song Haitang became somewhat hesitant. While the manuals weren’t expensive, him casually discarding them like worthless objects made him feel their value had decreased. He couldn’t help but entertain the thought, “Could the manuals really be fake?” But ultimately, he decided the newspaper articles were more reliable, and besides, it was foolish not to take something offered for free. He happily put away the manuals and even began to expound on how amazing some masters he knew were. He mentioned that a certain master was coming to give a lecture, and that masters could make people who lacked the aptitude to cultivate martial arts feel qi flowing in their bodies, experience warmth, or even achieve invincibility, iron-throat locks, or the legendary "striking through a mountain to hit a cow" – all legendary skills.
Good heavens, these were the tricks of street performers from hundreds of years ago, now considered real martial arts and genuine divine skills. It was utterly preposterous that so many people actually believed it. Couldn’t a show like "Into the Science" step in and debunk this stuff?
As Song Haitang explained, several classmates around them joined the conversation, sharing various fantastical rumors. Looking around, it seemed that more than half the class genuinely believed in this. As for why no one could cultivate successfully, most attributed it to lacking a master's guidance, having poor aptitude, or not having enough time to practice due to classes. In any case, it was always due to other reasons; Qigong and the martial arts manuals could never be fake. They were certain that if a master were to guide them, they would immediately attain mastery.
For a moment, Ding Yun felt like the only sober person in a town of drunks. However, since this matter had nothing to do with her, she couldn’t be bothered to say anything. If they wanted to believe, let them.
Yet, less than two days later, Ding Yun discovered that this matter had indeed become related to her, or rather, her family. It was a Saturday, two days later, when she returned to her hometown with her parents to visit her grandparents. She found that both her elderly grandparents had stopped taking their blood pressure medication and their insulin injections, intending to rely entirely on practicing martial arts. After all, practicing martial arts could cure all ills.
Her grandfather stopping his blood pressure medication was somewhat understandable. His blood pressure wasn’t particularly high to begin with, and with more exercise and a controlled diet, his blood pressure might indeed improve. In fact, with long-term adherence, he might not need to take blood pressure medication as frequently. But her grandmother stopping her insulin injections? That was actively seeking death! If practicing martial arts could cure diabetes, what need would there be for doctors?
Upon hearing this, Ding Yun’s father, Ding Guogang, immediately began to earnestly persuade them. He said he didn’t object to them practicing martial arts, exercising, or focusing on health and wellness, but they shouldn’t take it too seriously, treating it as some miraculous panacea. They still needed to take their medicine and administer insulin. They should only consider it real after a doctor’s examination confirmed it was no longer necessary. Otherwise, the medication couldn’t be stopped!
But the two elders were completely unconvinced. One argued that medicine was hardly a good thing; all medicine had side effects. How could daily consumption be good for the body? And blood pressure medication didn’t cure the disease, only controlled it. This was merely treating the symptoms, not the root cause. He now intended to treat the root cause. The other argued that injecting foreign substances into the body would surely have hidden dangers, and one needed to regulate and train oneself internally to completely resolve the illness. This would treat both symptoms and root cause. Insulin, which was bound to disrupt the body’s five-elemental balance, definitely couldn't be used anymore.
Well, they had been completely duped.