Having left his great-uncle’s room, He Yiming returned to his own quarters, retrieved the Great Saber, and headed back into the deep mountains once more.

Knowing that Lü Xinwen was a Xiantian (Innate) expert, while He Yiming felt no actual fear, he dared not treat the matter lightly.

When confronting a Xiantian expert, indulging in negligence or concealment would be no different from inviting his own death.

He Yiming’s most powerful martial skill at present was undoubtedly the Thirty-Six Forms of Mountain Splitting, and this Xiantian technique could be employed not just as a palm technique, but also as a saber technique.

Of course, wielding the Great Saber while executing the Thirty-Six Forms of Mountain Splitting was the only way to unleash the technique's maximum potential to the fullest extent.

He Yiming couldn't quite grasp why, but executing this Xiantian technique with the Great Saber afforded him the most utterly exhilarating sensation.

Given this, when facing the imminent powerful enemy, He Yiming naturally would not discard his strongest weapon and move set.

Sliding the Great Saber onto his back, He Yiming moved with lightning speed, dashing into the mountains even faster than when he arrived.

His figure was like a wisp of light smoke, gently blown by the wind, instantly soaring a hundred meters away, vanishing from the Yuan Family Estate in the blink of an eye, completely unobserved.

This speed truly pushed the Cloud and Rain Soaring Technique to its absolute limit, giving him the feeling that the more he used it, the more adept he became.

Not long after, he arrived at the location where the Great Saber had been reforged.

The scenery there remained utterly devastated; he had not been able to fully remedy the destruction he wrought in such a short time.

Reaching back, He Yiming gently lifted a corner of his pack and shook it into the wind, sending the three sections of the Great Saber flying up into the sky.

The great saber, so heavy, soared through the air as if it weighed nothing at all.

He Yiming’s body trembled slightly at that moment; with just a gentle sway, his form seemed on the verge of vaporization, as if what stood there was not a man, but a phantom, a cloud of mist.

Then, his feet began to move.

This movement was no longer that of a single person, but a burst of countless steps taken simultaneously, as if he had stamped dozens, hundreds, or even thousands of times around his vicinity.

These steps were not ethereal illusions; they were firmly planted on the ground, enveloping the entire mountain like an endless downpour.

In an instant, He Yiming’s figure dissolved into this cloud and mist, transforming into this sudden, sharp storm.

Suddenly, his movement ceased.

He stamped his feet alternately, taking several phantom steps in mid-air.

Simultaneously, his arms stretched out long, catching the three sections of the Great Saber as they descended.

His hands blurred with incredible speed, leaving afterimages dancing in the air, instantly reassembling the Great Saber while suspended aloft.

The saber style unfurled.

While still airborne, the Thirty-Six Forms of Mountain Splitting were unleashed with the crushing might of Mount Tai descending.

With a resounding crash, He Yiming tumbled ungracefully to the ground—not quite flat on his back or backside, but certainly looking disheveled.

Fortunately, he managed to stab the hilt of the Great Saber firmly into the earth, or he might have truly fallen.

Breathing shallowly, a flush crept across his face, the previous image of imposing grandeur vanishing instantly.

Looking at the Great Saber in his hand, he inwardly acknowledged his narrow escape.

What he had been attempting just now was to integrate the Thirty-Six Forms of Mountain Splitting with his own movement technique.

If he could combine these two Xiantian combat skills, He Yiming was certain it would unleash an unparalleled, immense power.

Two Xiantian techniques; if they could truly be layered, the resulting effect would absolutely not be additive, but terrifyingly multiplicative.

If he could truly achieve this synthesis, he would gain another layer of confidence when facing the upcoming Xiantian expert.

However, the Thirty-Six Forms of Mountain Splitting belonged to the Metal element Xiantian technique, whereas the Body Evasion technique he had created, the Cloud and Rain Soaring Technique, was clearly light, ethereal, and serpentine—vastly different from the unstoppable power of Mountain Splitting.

Fusing these two techniques smoothly would likely not be easy.

With a slight sigh, He Yiming’s brow furrowed once more.

He had actually considered this issue long ago, and knew that resolving the conflict between the two techniques wasn't inherently difficult.

This was, after all, a matter of combat skill coordination, far less troublesome than harmonizing conflicts between primary True Qi cultivation methods.

With sufficient time—say, ten to twenty years of grueling practice—this problem could fundamentally be solved.

At that point, using the movement style of the Cloud and Rain Soaring Technique while executing the Thirty-Six Forms of Mountain Splitting with the Great Saber would certainly not be a difficult feat.

The issue was that He Yiming’s most pressing lack right now was time.

He was certain that Lü Xinwen would never allow him ten or twenty years to postpone their duel.

If the opportunity arose, Lü Xinwen would absolutely wipe out the He family entirely, sparing no one, and He Yiming would undoubtedly be ranked first on that execution list.

After a moment of hesitation, He Yiming looked up, his gaze fixed on the sky, as if something extraordinary there had captured his attention.

Suddenly, his form moved again.

This time, he continuously ascended toward the higher peaks, finally reaching the spot where he had achieved enlightenment that morning.

Stretching his sight far out, he saw endless, rolling mountains.

As a solitary individual here, he seemed as insignificant as a speck of dust.

He slowly extended the Great Saber.

This fearsome weapon, which had drawn the attention of countless others, was still less than one hundred-millionth the size of this very mountain range.

He Yiming slowly closed his eyes, his consciousness seeming to return to that past moment.

In this place, at this time, he felt as though he had once again entered that miraculous state of sudden realization.

In his mind, the figure composed of clouds, mist, and water reappeared.

When executed by this phantom, the Cloud and Rain Soaring Technique seemed imbued with an extra layer of effortless grace that surpassed even He Yiming himself.

Slowly, mist began to churn and surge over this figure, eventually coalescing into the shape of a Great Saber.

With the saber in hand, the figure’s movements seemed to encounter a slight obstruction.

But this situation did not last long.

The Great Saber in the phantom’s grasp gradually grew lighter than air, becoming utterly natural.

Rounds of fierce saber techniques were unleashed from the phantom's hands, yet these were not the Thirty-Six Forms of Mountain Splitting, but rather random saber postures coordinated with the movement art.

These saber movements possessed no fixed routines; they shifted and changed continuously in harmony with the motion of the technique.

When He Yiming focused all his energy, what appeared in his mind was not some demon or monster, but an innate ability he had discovered following his initial enlightenment.

After observing the mountain rain and morning mist, the True Qi within his body had spread boundlessly, communicating with the ambient Qi of the world, generating a profound sensation in his mind.

It was as if, upon grasping the essential mysteries of mist and water, their fundamental source had merged with his subconscious, granting him absolute command over the transformations of clouds and rain.

Reflecting this subconscious awareness in his mind, an auxiliary subconscious figure emerged, proficient in all forms of cloud and water manipulation.

It was this subconscious figure, having absorbed the primal power of cloud and rain, that consolidated all cloud and water techniques into one, ultimately creating the Cloud and Rain Soaring Technique.

What He Yiming was doing now was integrating the Great Saber and the Thirty-Six Forms of Mountain Splitting into this subconscious awareness, attempting to have his subconscious phantom fuse these two miraculous techniques within a short span of time.

This was no mere ghost story or legend, but a specialized method of cultivation.

Just as a scholar might cram late into the night, unable to fully memorize content, only to find those memories astonishingly clear after a night’s sleep, with repeated recitation making them indelible.

He Yiming’s situation was similar, but now, returned to a state of enlightenment, having mastered the elemental power of cloud and rain, something within his body seemed to have been stimulated, concretely manifesting this capability within his mind.

Through the practice of the subconscious figure, he could compress the time needed to fuse these two incongruous Xiantian combat skills to a terrifying degree.

After a long while, He Yiming, standing atop the peak, suddenly moved.

His steps were swift, once again resembling the rush of wind and rain as he stamped about.

Yet, though he stood on the summit with his eyes closed, his feet seemed guided by an invisible pair of eyes; no matter how exaggerated his stamping motion, he never stepped beyond the edge, thus avoiding the tragic fate of falling from the cliff.

When his steps quickened, his body leaped high, gliding through the air as if birds had suddenly sprouted wings.

If an ordinary person witnessed this, they would surely prostrate themselves and call him an immortal.

But if a cultivator saw this, their eyeballs would surely pop out in astonishment.

To cultivate a movement technique to this degree was nearly beyond the limits achievable by the human body.

Indeed, the bodies of every Xiantian expert had already undergone the baptism of worldly Qi and were continuously being transformed by it.

Their physical resilience far surpassed that of Houtian (Postnatal) experts, and this was the greatest asset of the Xiantian practitioners.

To say they surpassed the limits achievable by Postnatal cultivators was in no way an exaggeration.

Suspended in the air, He Yiming flicked his wrist, and the Great Saber cut through the air once more.

A massive beam of saber light surged forth from the first section of the weapon, shooting out like lightning.

This non-physical saber light was as powerful as a peerless divine weapon forged from refined steel.

Every spot that the light briefly swept across was instantly severed into two pieces; even the rock walls that had endured countless years of wind and rain could not escape being split by this single strike.

He Yiming’s feet touched the ground.

Powerful True Qi erupted violently from beneath his feet, like the exhaust stream from a jet engine.

His shoes and socks instantly disintegrated, and the area around the Yongquan acupoint on the sole of his foot was utterly annihilated.

On the ground, a sound like a massive drumbeat echoed, and two distinct pits had inexplicably appeared.

Simultaneously, He Yiming leaped high, raising the Great Saber above his head like a demon god.

An immense aura surged from him, and the Great Saber, now resembling a pillar supporting the heavens, finally descended with crushing force.

A blade aura separated from the tip of the saber, instantly piercing the space before him and appearing ten meters away atop a giant tree.

Then, with a flash of light, it vanished without a trace.

He Yiming opened his eyes.

His mouth dropped open in astonishment.

His previous movements had successfully merged the Thirty-Six Forms of Mountain Splitting and the Cloud and Rain Soaring Technique.

Not only had he encountered no further obstruction, but they seemed to complement each other perfectly, thriving together.

And his final strike was unimaginably powerful; it had even managed to launch the blade aura detached from the Great Saber itself.

This was something he had never conceived of before.

Even now, he was profoundly shocked, realizing that after these two combat skills cooperated, their individual might seemed to have elevated to an entirely new level.

However, all the credit belonged to the formless phantom that appeared in his mind after his enlightenment.

This phantom seemed to possess a miraculous ability: to consolidate fragmented, half-formed techniques into a unified whole, forming something entirely his own.

This was intrinsically linked to the peculiarity of his physique.

Within his body resided techniques from all Five Elements, but the inner strength and True Qi condensed by these methods all transformed into that chaotic mass after passing through his meridians and returning to his Dantian.

It was as if, no matter which technique he cultivated, the total volume of his True Qi would increase.

And when he used a technique from a specific element, the True Qi would automatically exhibit all the characteristics of that element’s art.

It was precisely because of this strange and wondrous constitution that He Yiming could break through limits and reach his current level in such a short time.

Previously, this characteristic was only evident in the aspects of inner strength and True Qi, but now, following a mysterious enlightenment, it seemed to be manifesting similarly in his combat techniques.

With a soft sigh, infinite questions surfaced in He Yiming’s mind.

He knew that ultimately, all these changes stemmed from the miraculous encounter at the bottom of the lake that day, but what he couldn't fathom was what exactly that sphere of light was, to possess such inconceivable divine powers. "Hoo...

Splash..." A loud noise came from ahead, snapping He Yiming out of his reverie.

He looked up in surprise, his gaze instantly narrowing.

Before his eyes, the great tree that had been grazed by the blade aura just moments before, collapsed at that very instant.

In the middle of the trunk, the surface was smooth as silk—it had been cleanly cleaved in two by that single strike without any resistance.

Following the tree line down to the roots, a streak, not overly thick, had appeared on the ground, stretching away in a straight line from the tree's base.

All the trees and vegetation along its path had been bisected along that line.

He Yiming could no longer conceal the look of absolute shock on his face.

He finally understood: the power of that detached blade aura was incredibly vast.

Compared to it, even his desperate, forceful chopping with the Great Saber might not equal the impact of that single streak of light.

If he encountered a similar blade aura while fighting barehanded, could he truly withstand it? He dazedly lowered his gaze to the Great Saber in his hand.

This massive, terrifying weapon suddenly seemed precious in his heart.

Yet, a question arose: was this Great Saber truly just a weapon forged from common iron? After a long while, he sheathed the Great Saber.

On the mountain peak, he tried to re-enter the state of enlightenment, but found he could not do so no matter what he tried.

He sighed lightly, turned, and departed.

Having entered the state of enlightenment twice in a single day was truly remarkable.

If he wasn't satisfied now, he would truly be like the snake trying to swallow an elephant...

Within Zhengtong County City, at the Fan Family residence, all the servants moved cautiously, afraid to make the slightest sound.

Because their master, Fan Shuhe, the head of the Fan family, appeared unusually irritable and restless today.

In the memory of the elders of the household, the Family Head had not worn such an expression for decades.

Thus, everyone understood that something major must have happened, something troubling even their master.

Eldest Young Master Fan Hao rushed breathlessly into Fan Shuhe’s chamber, his face equally grave.

“Father, I have searched everywhere.

There is no trace of my two uncles.” A sharp glint flashed in Fan Shuhe’s eyes.

“Did they leave any letter behind?” Fan Hao shook his head firmly.

“None.

I personally searched the rooms where my two uncles were staying.

Forget letters; there wasn’t even a scrap of paper.” Fan Shuhe fell silent, seemingly deep in thought.

After a moment, Fan Hao murmured, “Father, could it be that the two uncles left without saying goodbye because of the setback the other day?” “Hmph.” Fan Shuhe snorted angrily.

“The two brothers of the Xiao family have been my associates for decades.

Do I not know their character? They would never be the type to abandon a friend and flee before a confrontation.” Fan Hao retreated half a step, daring not to speak further, merely saying, “But Father, the two uncles have been missing for over a day, and there is no sign of struggle in their rooms…” Even amidst his agitation, Fan Shuhe couldn't help but chuckle wryly.

“Stop overthinking.

Given your uncles’ capabilities, no one could possibly have captured them without alerting us.” Fan Hao recalled the scene from that day when the two Xiao brothers fought combined against He Quanxin, and he internally conceded the point.

The two of them working together—even a master of the Tenth Layer of Inner Strength could not subdue them instantly, and doing so without alerting anyone was absolutely impossible.

Fan Shuhe frowned, calculating relentlessly in his mind.

Suddenly, he sensed an anomaly in the surrounding air.

He spun around violently, his face instantly paling with alarm.

He exerted a slight force with his legs, bounding backward as if coiled by a spring.

The instant he made this move, he instinctively reached out, grabbing Fan Hao’s arm without a second thought, and tugged gently, pulling the younger man behind him.

PS: On the first day of the Lunar New Year, White Crane sends New Year greetings to all the brothers and sisters who are still dedicated to reading! Also, a quick note: Yesterday and last night, White Crane received many text messages wishing a Happy New Year.

However, last December, my mobile phone accidentally fell into water and completely died.

Only a few contacts saved on the SIM card remained, while the entire address book on the phone was lost.

Therefore, I hardly recognize most of the friends who sent texts.

Please forgive me for not replying...

sweat...