Chapter 33: The Future Thirty-Six Thieves and the Essence of Zhang Zhiwei’s Power

"We're here, we're here! Look, Brother Zhang, some of my friends are on that painted pleasure boat!"

Lu Jin, carrying a pole laden with candied hawthorns, pointed toward a boat anchored in the middle of the waterway.

Zhang Zhiwei followed his gaze. The boat was moored in the center of the canal, decked out in lanterns. Since it was daytime, the lanterns remained unlit, but a stage had been erected on the deck where a performance was currently underway.

The performer was a lad of about fifteen or sixteen, dressed in red with a gourd slung at his waist and his hair tied into two horn-like buns. He stood nonchalantly on the stage, devoid of any props.

Watching closely, one could see his hands weaving seals and his wrists turning, fingers dancing, as wisps of flame appeared out of thin air, gathering above his palms. As his gestures shifted, the clustered flames slowly morphed into the shape of a flower bud, which then bloomed into a fully opened blossom.

Just as the flower reached its peak, the boy changed his hand gesture once more. The flower suddenly collapsed inward, transforming into a crimson bird that fluttered its wings, circling him before landing now on his shoulder, now on his palm. The bird was vivid and lifelike, its every movement and feathered detail brimming with vitality.

The crowd erupted into thunderous applause. Encouraged, the boy with the horn-buns grinned. With a flurry of finger movements, more flames manifested, converging upon his palms.

"The show begins! Watch this!"

The boy shouted, forming a lotus seal and pointing sharply. The massive ball of fire merged into the small bird, and in an instant, the tiny creature surged in size, becoming a grand phoenix with a wingspan of two meters. It soared upward, shaking sparks from its plumage, its wings shimmering with intoxicating, flowing light.

Such a grand spectacle naturally drew thunderous applause and a rain of coins—copper and silver—tossed toward the boat from both banks.

"Don't be so impatient, the best is yet to come! Again!"

The boy let out another shout, pressing his hands down as another mass of flames materialized, transforming into a fire dragon that shot into the sky to soar alongside the phoenix.

"A dragon and phoenix bringing prosperity! Feng Ping of the Fire Virtue Sect wishes the old Master Lu a life as enduring as the pines on the southern mountains and good fortune as vast as the eastern seas!"

The applause from the banks was deafening, the cheers unending.

"Good! Truly good!"

Lu Jin clapped vigorously, then introduced him to Zhang Zhiwei:

"That’s a friend of mine, Feng Ping, the personal disciple of the Fire Virtue Sect’s leader. His fire control is unrivaled. My master once said that in terms of pure control over Qi, few in the younger generation can surpass him. What do you think, Brother Zhang? As an expert from the Celestial Master’s Mansion, does Feng Ping’s fire manipulation catch your eye?"

Zhang Zhiwei smiled. "Not bad, not bad. The techniques of the Fire Virtue Sect certainly catch my eye."

Zhang Zhiwei mentioned the techniques of the Fire Virtue Sect, but he did not mention Feng Ping’s skill. When he had arrived, his master had explained the characteristics of the Fire Virtue Sect’s methods: they could transmute Qi into fire; as long as the Qi remained, the fire would not fade, and the stronger the Qi, the stronger the fire.

While Feng Ping’s performance was flashy, the intensity of his Qi was frankly quite low. Leaving aside the dual cultivation of spirit and physical form, he hadn't even mastered the basics of the physical foundation. To lack a solid foundation but spend so much effort on intricate, flashy tricks was, quite simply, misplaced priorities.

A skill is meaningless if one focuses only on technique while ignoring raw power. Any application of technique is built upon the foundation of raw strength—this is crucial. A toy gun, no matter how skillfully handled, cannot kill. One must not put the cart before the horse.

Zhang Zhiwei pondered: if he were to practice the Fire Virtue Sect’s techniques, he would never chase after fire dragons or phoenixes. He would focus solely on the fireballs, refining their power to the pinnacle. Once one path was mastered, all paths would follow; then, those minor, peripheral flourishes would be child's play. After all, controlling the power of a fireball is, at its essence, controlling one's Qi. Once that power reaches a profound level, isn't changing the shape of the fire just a trivial matter?

Just as Zhang Zhiwei practiced the Golden Light Incantation, he always focused on refining his spirit and body, never bothering to study the various chaotic, flashy applications of the golden light. When he practiced the Yang Five Thunder, he sought only speed, precision, and ruthlessness, never indulging in the little gimmicks that Zhang Chulan favored, like his "little white bugs" or "Thunder Member" tricks.

Yet, strangely, while Zhang Zhiwei never intentionally pursued the form of the golden light, he wielded it more skillfully than anyone. The same went for the Thunder Method. Even though his Yang Five Thunder was restricted by his "Heart Ape" state and couldn't be deployed with total freedom, his level of control still far exceeded that of Feng Ping.

If nothing else, the day he practiced on Mount Tianmen, the thunder had gathered like black clouds, transforming into a thousand birds. Each bird was perfectly rendered, down to the last feather. That feat alone was enough to keep Feng Ping practicing for a decade or eight years.

Why was this? Why could Zhang Zhiwei effortlessly achieve what others struggled a lifetime to reach, without ever consciously pursuing it?

The reason was that Zhang Zhiwei could see through to the very essence of cultivation.

Cultivation is like schooling. At the beginning, everyone is in elementary school, only knowing the most basic addition and subtraction. Some, wanting to improve, buy dozens of sets of practice books and test papers, grinding away frantically.

After they finish all the papers, feeling they have understood every application of addition and subtraction and acting like grandmasters of arithmetic, they realize that someone who never touched a practice book, who only studied the basic textbooks, has already entered university and is working on a master’s degree.

Both were working hard, but as time passed, the gap between them became as vast as heaven and earth. No matter how many elementary school problems you solve, you cannot solve the basic problems of a university course. And for the university student, solving an elementary school paper is a literal dimension-crushing blow.

In the story, the three old men of the Wudang Sect, obsessed with the Feng Hou Mystery and sitting in meditation for half their lives, were the quintessential examples of those frantically grinding the same elementary problems. Sadly, they spent their whole lives at it without ever truly understanding.

Zhang Zhiwei, however, was the one who only ever looked at the basic textbooks.

This was why, while later generations fought tooth and nail over the Eight Miraculous Skills, the Old Celestial Master wouldn't even spare them a glance. The Eight Miraculous Skills were like a group of middle-schoolers desperately chasing the solution to a "perfect equation." Once learned, they were invincible in examinations (fights).

But what was the point?

Please, I’m already pursuing my doctorate! Even a casual slap contains the fundamental knowledge of a doctorate. No matter how high-end your equation-solving method is, you cannot escape the reality that you are, at your core, a middle-schooler.

How are you going to stop a slap like that?

...

Of course, Zhang Zhiwei hadn't reached his "doctorate" yet, and the Fire Virtue Sect still had techniques that caught his eye—such as the Fire Escape Technique.