The Naked Awakening and a Father’s Scheme

Groggy, I slowly opened my eyes. Through the low-slung mouth of the cave, I vaguely discerned the sky outside, stained with the ink of twilight, the night curtain just beginning to fall.

The color was so profound, it resembled the ashen face of an Indian exchange student struck by the Ice Soul Silver Needle.

Curled on the ground, my body felt inexplicably weary and powerless. I struggled to summon a breath of true qi from within, only to discover my dantian and chest were utterly empty. Where had the internal energy I had cultivated for over a decade vanished?

This instantly threw me into disarray, utterly bewildered. I yearned to sit cross-legged, meditate, and perform internal introspection, but my back ached, my neck was stiff, and my legs were numb, rendering me immobile. Only my hands could still manage some movement. Instinctively, I reached inward, fumbling towards my dantian and vital organs, hoping to at least faintly perceive the flow of true qi within my extraordinary meridians, to gain some inkling of what had transpired.

My hands moved with clumsy uncertainty, my eyelids still heavy. Unable to see anything clearly, I had to rely solely on my sense of touch.

‘What was this?’

As my palms moved back and forth, they suddenly brushed against something incredibly soft and slippery, right on my own body…

‘What in the world was happening? Could this be the culprit behind the disappearance of all my internal energy?’

With this thought swirling in my mind, I couldn’t resist touching those two warm, soft masses again with my fingertips. Finding no other abnormalities, I then boldly, almost involuntarily, reached out and grasped those two warm, jade-like objects.

‘What *were* these things?’

My hands meticulously kneaded and pressed the objects, attempting to discern the path of my meridians and true qi through touch alone. Yet, as I massaged, an intense pleasure and stimulation surged through me, catching my nerves completely off guard. This delight was tinged with three parts shame and seven parts bashful embarrassment. Still, the unprecedented sensation made me reluctant to stop, even more eager to uncover the fate of my internal energy and martial arts. Despite the overwhelming mortification, I found myself unable to prevent my palms from lingering, gently stroking, slowly twisting, lightly pressing, and gradually applying pressure, searching for the secret that might lie hidden within – the secret of where my true qi had vanished.

Moreover, the sensation of them being so soft to the touch, seemingly capable of being kneaded and broken, was indeed, quite comfortable…

This tantalizing, yet somewhat bashful, process continued for roughly half a *zhancha* – about five minutes. Still, there was no trace of my true qi’s whereabouts. Instead, I felt myself sinking deeper and deeper into that pleasure, unable to extricate myself.

Lost in my daze, I suddenly heard a soft moan, which jolted my senses. Abruptly, I lifted my head, peering around, but with the sunset long past and night having fully descended, the interior of the pitch-dark cave remained obscured.

It was only then, after a moment, that I realized my stiff, numb legs and feet, my aching back and neck, had somehow improved. This must have been why I had unconsciously been able to lift my head. Perhaps the earlier sensations had caused my blood to surge, accelerating its circulation?

Despite this, my movements were still sluggish. With great difficulty, I managed to push myself up, only to discover that I was completely naked. A gust of night wind swept in from the cave mouth, sending a chill through my entire body.

‘What in the world was going on? How did I end up naked in this place? What had happened before?’

A dull ache still throbbed in my head. In the darkness, I reached up and pressed my hand to my forehead, as if trying to coax my memories to return.

****

My name is Liu Fang – Liu from “gold-bladed saber,” Fang from “heaven and earth’s square.” I am a freshman of the Wuzi class at the Imperial Martial Arts and Technology University, currently studying in the Carefree College, specializing in the Autumn Water Sect.

The Imperial Martial Arts and Technology University was founded by the renowned *jianghu* grandmaster, Mr. Jin Yong. Its primary purpose was to recruit the elite of the *jianghu* and cultivate martial arts prodigies. Mr. Jin Yong served as its first chancellor. After he sheathed his sword and retired, he passed the position to the martial arts legend who was then famous throughout the land – the Grandmaster known as “Seeking Defeat,” or “Sword Demon,” Dugu Qiubai. From that point onward, the Imperial martial arts flourished, and the clan-based system of the *jianghu* gradually solidified, establishing clear rules and structures.

The reason I bring this up is because of a figure who is indispensable to my story: Comrade Liu Buping…

Comrade Liu Buping’s official title is Associate Professor at the Imperial Martial Arts and Technology University, Carefree College, and Master’s Supervisor. His Daoist name is “Autumn Water Master.” Unofficially, he is said to have many less flattering nicknames.

However, the reason all these facts are deeply intertwined with my current predicament, and the hidden story behind it, is precisely because this Associate Professor Liu has another identity: he is my venerable father.

My story truly begins just before the end of our freshman military training and the first month of university classes.

It seemed fated, as if the heavens had misprinted the almanac this year. The Mid-Autumn Festival mini-break, combined with the weekend, fell precisely two days before the Grand Ancestor’s Birthday. The people of the Imperial Dynasty have always favored combining events for completeness and emphasizing reunion. Coupled with the universal celebration of the Grand Ancestor’s Birthday, the current Emperor, with a grand flourish of his brush, slightly adjusted the holiday schedule. He shifted the following weekend, joining it with the current break to form a six-day holiday, which, counting the days before and after, stretched to a full eight days, allowing the common folk a splendid opportunity to rest and relax.

For a time, throughout the court and the common lands, across the divine realm, everyone lauded, “Long live the Emperor!” praising his compassion for the people and his care for his subjects.

Alas, such grand imperial benevolence did not extend to me. For on the very first day of the holiday, after dutifully watching the broadcast of the Emperor celebrating with the three great armies and the populace – a task I performed alongside my father in response to the school’s call – that old rascal dispatched me with a swift horse, a map, and a parcel, sending me to a nearby desolate wilderness for a three-day short-term cultivation retreat.

In truth, my father’s sinister scheme should never have succeeded, for his greatest obstacle, my mother, was still present. Yet, that old rascal had been plotting for a long time, his stratagems too deep. Even before the six-day holiday officially began, he had booked a Zhangjiajie tour group for my mother. He then cleverly dodged accompanying her, citing the need to supervise his graduate students’ research and studies during the holidays. What was especially shameless was that at the time, he had brazenly told my mother: “My dear, if both of us go off to play, what will Xiaofang do alone at home? My work at the university is quite busy right now, and that new student is still a bit slow to catch on. So I won’t go. I’ll stay home to look after Xiaofang, and incidentally, supervise that new student’s studies and research. You go and have a wonderful time by yourself, alright? Oh, yes, yes, your senior sister from Lingjiu Palace, Old Lady Wu… ah, Associate Professor Wu, and Mrs. Su from the Wuyai family, and Old Man Ding’s family from Xingxiu, they’re all going together! Haha, haha, haha, you sisters can have a good reunion!”

As the saying goes, “When the person leaves, the tea grows cold.” And as it is said, “With no mother at home, father reigns supreme.”

He made it sound so sweet, like a song, “looking after Xiaofang”… Yet, it was likely that my mother’s tour group’s plane had barely touched down in Zhangjiajie, their seats not even warmed, before he brazenly went back on his word, forcefully demanding I go out to cultivate martial arts, all under the guise of “exercising his son” and “tempering his will.”

To quote the famous Prime Minister Zhuge Kongming of the Three Kingdoms period: “I have never seen such a brazen and shameless person!”

However, despite my indignation, I dared not speak out. After all, with Mother away, Father was the master of the house…

Thus, I could only grumble inwardly about my father, question whether I was truly his biological son, and plot to thoroughly report his misdeeds to Mother upon her return from her trip. All the while, I dejectedly obeyed his command, dutifully riding off to my cultivation retreat.

Following the map diligently, I traveled, dusty and worn, enduring the hardships of the journey. After riding a horse furiously along the provincial main road for a day and a night, I finally arrived at the designated spot my father had marked on the map. Yet, upon reaching the place, I discovered that this damned location was no desolate, uninhabited wilderness at all, but the renowned Mount Huang!

****

It is said, “Having visited the Five Great Mountains, one no longer cares for other mountains; having visited Mount Huang, one no longer cares for the Five Great Mountains.” This adage speaks volumes about Mount Huang’s scenery. However, Linghu Ruoxu, the third eldest in our dorm, who hails from the Mount Hua Sect specialization of the Five Peaks Academy, was utterly displeased by this saying. I vividly recall his disdainful remark during a late-night dorm chat:

“Oh, so if it’s such an amazing mountain,” he’d scoffed, “how come it doesn’t even have a single famous sect? Don’t they say, ‘A mountain isn’t great because of its height, but because of the immortals who dwell there’? Not even *jianghu* folk are willing to establish a sect here, nor has it produced any influential figures who’ve shaken the martial world. I think Mount Huang is just mediocre, nothing special at all.”

At this, Guo Hao, the eldest from Shandong, and Yang Chun, the second eldest from the Northeast, found themselves at a loss for words. Only I, whose hometown was right there, sighed helplessly and retorted, “It’s not that Mount Huang has no sects; it’s just that Imperial Martial Arts University doesn’t offer a specialization for it. Look, Gulong University, far away in the capital, actually has such a program. Moreover, according to the records in *The Annals of the Jianghu*, Shi Guanyin, the martial arts demoness who once massacred the Seven Swords of Mount Hua, hailed from a Mount Huang family. I wonder if you’ve ever heard of her name?”

Unlike Linghu Ruoxu, Guo Hao, or Yang Chun, who came from centuries-old martial families, my own family’s involvement in this profession began with my father; I am only the second generation. Feeling that our family’s prestige was insufficient and our cultural heritage lacking, my father forced me from a young age to thoroughly memorize the famous historical epic, *The Annals of the Jianghu*, ensuring I had an intimate knowledge of past *jianghu* events. Refuting Linghu Ruoxu’s assertions now was merely a small test of my skills.

Linghu Ruoxu, rebutted so comprehensively, went pale then flushed, likely contemplating whether to get up and confront me. Yet, unexpectedly, Yang Chun, hearing this, immediately leaped from his bed with an excited expression and exclaimed, “I, I, I know! Shi Guanyin’s name, hehe!”