6076 Four Hundred and Seventy-Eight Familiar Names, Triggering Great Fortune [More chapters this afternoon] Listening to the subordinate's report regarding Qin Fen, a hint of confusion clouded Zuo Lin's twin sword-like eyebrows, which quickly curved into a cold, mocking sneer.

His thumb and middle finger tapped the desk in a ceaseless rhythm, producing a light, swift sound.

"Hawaii? That's awfully close to the Sacred Martial Hall."

Zuo Lin watched the changing map on the projection screen, shaking his head repeatedly. "Excellent. Heading to the Sacred Martial Hall first is optimal. It should house the people he trusts most. I'm sure he’ll soon learn the meaning of fragile friendship."

"Go upstairs," Zuo Lin turned to a colonel standing beside him who seemed hesitant to speak, raising his wrist in a symbolic gesture, inviting the man to voice his thoughts.

"Why don't we..." the proposing colonel’s eyes flashed with sharp malice. He abruptly brought his hand down in a chopping motion in the air, demonstrating a beheading action. "If we arranged a plane crash..."

"A plane crash?" Zuo Lin raised an eyebrow, then pursed his lips. "If he hadn't become a Martial Arts Master, I wouldn't mind resolving him with a plane crash directly. Now? Although Qin Fen's combat records never displayed him using Wu Kong Shu (Air Martial Art), which martial artist achieves the level of Martial Arts Master without learning Wu Kong Shu first?" Zuo Lin slowly lifted his chin.

His typically arrogant, confident, and resolute gaze softened slightly with a flicker of yearning. He let out a slow sigh. "Flying! To be unrestrained by gravity, to soar in the sky. Which human doesn't long for such ability? An air crash is meaningless collateral damage; it won't kill the man who needs killing. It will only serve as a warning: someone is plotting against him."

The proposing colonel flushed. He had considered the possibility that Qin Fen might know Wu Kong Shu, but it was worth the gamble.

"Drop the idea of the air crash," Zuo Lin smiled faintly. "I don't necessarily want Qin Fen dead for now. If I can recruit him upon reaching Saturn, he would undoubtedly be one of my most powerful generals."

A massive Airbus passenger jet accelerated into the sky from Shengjing, while the military airport simultaneously bustled with activity. The two colonels participating in the assessment also quickly departed Shengjing.

Bearded Zhao stood by the window, watching the civil aircraft fly past. He calmly extinguished the cigarette he hadn't touched in a long time, a trace of regret coloring his expression. "I hope you don't return completely empty-handed this time."

After a long flight, the huge aircraft slowly descended onto Xia Ranyi's airport. The resort island remained just that—a resort. Qin Fen looked around at the development; everything felt as if it had happened only yesterday, startlingly familiar.

Back then, when everyone journeyed to the Sacred Martial Hall, their martial strength was merely at the Ten-Star level. Now, revisiting the old grounds, he had soared to the Sixteen-Star level. In a sense, as long as one didn't commit acts against humanity, the law offered little restraint.

Just two years.

Qin Fen couldn't help but marvel at how the world of martial arts was a place capable of creating miracles. Once, he was just a high school student struggling at the bottom rung of society. With the enhancement of his martial power, although he couldn't claim wealth rivaling nations, he no longer needed to struggle for basic sustenance.

Gazing toward the direction of the Sacred Martial Hall island, which was too distant to see clearly across the ocean, Qin Fen clenched his fists slightly. Perhaps using Wu Kong Shu would allow him to fly directly to the hall, bypassing the need for a ship. But doing so would violate the rules of the Sacred Martial Hall.

The ferry service to the Sacred Martial Hall operated only once a day. Qin Fen sat quietly at the port, gazing at the azure sea. The gentle sea breeze stirred Lin Ling's long, silky hair; her beauty remained as captivating as ever.

Night deepened. Qin Fen slowly rose. In the boring interval while waiting for the ship, he slowly practiced the Twenty-Four Form Simplified Taijiquan. This form embodied not only the principle of ultimate softness generating ultimate hardness but also included the entanglement techniques taught by Chan Huiyi. Having elevated the 'Entanglement Skill' to a level that once made the 'King of Deception,' Zeng Yicheng, curse, Qin Fen now placed even greater importance on this set of martial arts, which he hadn't valued one hundred percent previously, after witnessing the Masters battle the Qilin.

Qin Fen was not Xue Tian, a martial artist who grasped concepts upon a single glance, nor was he the type to stop studying a technique once learned. There is no true zenith in any martial art. Qin Fen delighted in the occasional novel discovery made while delving deep into the martial way.

Time slipped by unnoticed. A young man arrived at the dock late at night, appearing to be just over eighteen. His Six-Star martial artist strength lent him an exceptionally heroic aura. His crisp black martial uniform, coupled with the naturally athletic physique unique to martial practitioners, exuded vibrant vitality.

The young man quickly noticed Qin Fen's unusual activity. He showed no mobilization of his Star Power, appearing like an ordinary person leaning into the sea breeze, practicing the soft, seemingly weak movements of the Twenty-Four Form Simplified Taijiquan stance.

The Sacred Martial Hall was considered a supreme sanctuary of martial arts by almost every practitioner worldwide. The young man observed Qin Fen's peculiar actions quietly for a full hour. When Qin Fen finished one complete cycle of the simple Taiji form, he immediately stepped forward, cupped his hands, and bowed slightly.

"Hello. Are you also heading to the Sacred Martial Hall? Why can't I discern your Star Power level?" The young man frowned in concentration, looking at Qin Fen. "My name is Ma Jun-tie, a Six-Star Ancient Martial artist."

Qin Fen concluded his form and studied Ma Jun-tie. To reach the peak state of a Six-Star Ancient Martial artist before the age of nineteen was respectable, though not astonishing—barely enough to meet the Sacred Martial Hall's admission threshold. His uniform was brand new, carrying the scent of a store warehouse. After a brief observation, Qin Fen confirmed that this young man, Ma Jun-tie, was not wealthy. Apart from the standard points of a martial practitioner's physique, his shoulder muscles were slightly too thick, and his arms a bit too rigid.

A true martial artist, barring a few specialized cultivation methods, should have muscles as flowing as water when relaxed, yet as hard as steel when unleashing force. This flexibility allowed for the maximization of strike speed, power, and penetration. Ma Jun-tie’s shoulders and arms were slightly too bulky; this thickness and hardness might be imperceptible to a Six-Star practitioner, but a Martial Arts Master like Qin Fen could see through it instantly. Qin Fen himself had experienced this phase long ago—a side effect of prolonged, heavy physical labor undertaken to earn money. It wasn't until he traveled alone in Qinghai, where his martial foundation continuously improved, that he discovered this small flaw that could impede future martial development.

Qin Fen nodded repeatedly. It was commendable to advance Ancient Martial arts to the Six-Star level at such a young age, and even more difficult given that his family conditions seemed modest. Learning martial skills cost money! For families with ordinary incomes, it was a considerable expense; for those with poor financial means, studying martial arts was often a luxury.

"May I ask one question?" Ma Jun-tie's pupils were filled with curiosity. "Sir, you are very strange. Truly strange. People say the Twenty-Four Form Simplified Taijiquan is known as the 'Elderly Man's Fist,' barely considered a form of physical exercise. But it was truly odd; when I watched you practice, there was an ineffable sensation—as if you had become one with the ocean waves and the sea breeze. Those gusts of wind, when they reached your hands, seemed completely controlled by you."

Qin Fen was slightly surprised. This young man's martial intuition was better than expected; even many Eight-Star martial artists might not perceive what he did.

"Perform it once more. Your best form," Qin Fen said calmly.

Ma Jun-tie paused briefly at Qin Fen's simple request. This person, who looked barely older than himself, carried an indescribable authority in his placid tone, akin to a master instructing a disciple in a martial arts school.

Ma Jun-tie said no more. He stepped back two paces, assumed a stance, and began performing his routine with forceful energy.

Arhat Fist? Qin Fen smiled, a genuine happiness surfacing on his face. This martial art embodied all his past dedication; a long-absent sense of emotion surged within him. Ma Jun-tie’s execution of the Arhat Fist was quite good—the fundamentals were solid, the movements unadorned, and his advancement and retreat were orderly. Few Six-Star martial artists could demonstrate such a solid foundation.

After watching for a short time, Qin Fen discerned Ma Jun-tie's internal art: a very special internal method called the Four Stances of Active Cultivation (Dong Gong Si Zhuang), not much different from basic internal arts. The most unique aspect of this method was that cultivation required movement, not just stillness. The Four Stances were Dragon, Crane, Wind, and Cloud.

"Solid!" Qin Fen nodded, impressed. Ma Jun-tie executed both the Arhat Fist and the Four Stances of Active Cultivation with remarkable solidity, displaying the potential essence of Dragon, Crane, Wind, and Cloud in his movement and stillness.

"Not bad," Qin Fen applauded lightly as Ma Jun-tie concluded his form. "You've practiced the Four Stances of Active Cultivation well. You are heading to the Sacred Martial Hall to seek the other six stances, aren't you?"

Ma Jun-tie froze. He had only demonstrated one form, yet this person had discerned his core internal technique? If this had been an old martial artist appearing ethereal and wise with a white beard, it wouldn't be strange. But this was a contemporary of similar youth.

"Actually, the Ten Stances of Active Cultivation (Dong Gong Shi Zhuang) are not the limit of martial arts," Qin Fen sat back down by the sea, watching the rolling waves. "I have studied the methods for the Ten Stances: Dragon, Crane, Wind, Cloud, Great, Small, Profound, Nether, and Heart. They almost encompass everything in the world."

Qin Fen looked at Ma Jun-tie, who was now sitting beside him, listening intently. "Actually, it would be even better if this set of martial arts were expanded again, becoming the Twelve Stances of Active Cultivation: Heaven, Earth, Heart, Dragon, Crane, Wind, Cloud, Great, Small, Profound, and Nether."

Qin Fen slowly rose, his limbs moving with a slow, rhythmic cadence accompanying his body. Though there was no trace of martial Qi in his movements, Ma Jun-tie’s Six-Star true Qi permeated his body as he tried to sense the pressure radiating from Qin Fen's every gesture. Without Gang Qi, truly manifesting the essence of a martial technique could still generate immense power.

After demonstrating the Twelve Stances of Active Cultivation, Qin Fen slowed his movements even further, his body executing special rhythms that bordered on stillness: "The Six Stances of Passive Cultivation (Jing Gong Liu Zhuang) for dedicated practice: Tiger Step, Heavy Hammer, Earth Shrinking, Hanging Pouch, Acupuncture Point, and Nirvana Retreat... Paired with the Twelve Stances of Active Cultivation, they form a truly complete system—I call it the Eighteen Forms of Innate Motion and Stillness (Dong Jing Xian Tian Shi Ba Gong)."

Ma Jun-tie stared blankly at Qin Fen. Though he hadn't heard of these specific techniques, his constant viewing of high-level martial artists’ recordings on the Sky Martial Arts Network, combined with his superior intuition, told him Qin Fen was not speaking nonsense but was genuinely demonstrating a profound martial path.

Qin Fen finished demonstrating the techniques and straightened his body, relaxing. "Your Arhat Fist is one of the best I’ve seen. Your foundation is exceptionally solid."

"Huh?" Ma Jun-tie snapped out of his daze, scratching the back of his head, showing considerable shyness. "I learned it from my idol. Speaking of the Arhat Fist, my idol's execution is truly solid; I'm far behind..."

"Idol?" Qin Fen raised an eyebrow. He didn't recall any famous master renowned specifically for the Arhat Fist in recent history.

"Yes! Idol!" Ma Jun-tie’s spirit instantly soared, his hands tightly clenched, trembling slightly. "Thirty-Six Hours..."

Qin Fen’s body stiffened almost imperceptibly. This name, so familiar it felt ancient and strange now, echoed in his mind. The memories of his time on the Sky Combat Network flashed rapidly through his consciousness.

In an instant, Qin Fen stared out at the churning sea, at the countless waves that computer calculations couldn't possibly count. His consciousness expanded across the water surface, seemingly reaching toward the horizon. The sea breeze mixed with the spray, merging into one entity. Suddenly, a massive wave, thirty feet high, rose from the nearby surface, surging toward the shore like an ancient sea monster. It slammed into Qin Fen, submerging him as if he were held within a solid, unscattering container.

For a moment, Qin Fen's auditory canals, skin, and eyes felt as if they were covered in countless rapidly writhing insects. Slap... slap... slap... The bones beneath his skin and muscles seemed to move. His body inflated and then, in the next instant, deflated like a punctured balloon, contracting. In less than a second, his form repeated this cycle hundreds of times. The surrounding water formed a vortex in the shape of a dragon, soaring a hundred feet around his body before—crack—it shattered like a broken crystal glass into countless droplets scattering outwards.

Ma Jun-tie rubbed his eyes vigorously, fearing his vision was playing tricks. These falling water droplets did not break upon hitting the ground like rain. Instead, they acted like highly elastic glass marbles, bouncing several times before finally dispersing into a splash upon impact.

The wind-shaped water dragon scattered. Qin Fen’s body returned to normal. The sea resumed its timeless, gentle lapping against the shore, acting as if nothing extraordinary had occurred.

The expansion and extension of perception had been fleeting. Qin Fen’s consciousness retreated inward, filled with profound awe. These matters of the spirit were truly strange. He had merely intended to sightsee while waiting for the ship and perhaps offer guidance to a junior with good potential, but unexpectedly, the young man’s words triggered deep, long-buried memories in his heart.

After practicing the Twenty-Four Form Simplified Taijiquan and instinctively deriving the Eighteen Forms of Innate Motion and Stillness from observing the junior's movements, his body entered a state of inexplicable harmony. When someone suddenly mentioned a name from his past, the seawater instantly acted like a massive transport fleet, bringing these distant yet profound memories forward. In that moment of recollection, Qin Fen inexplicably entered the realm of Tian Ren He Yi (Unity of Man and Nature), feeling as if he was about to merge with the Pacific Ocean before him.

It was dreamlike, ethereal, yet the sensation of power returning to his clenched fists reminded him that this was no fantasy. Qin Fen recalled the scene when Martial Venerable took him to the seaside before he left the Sacred Martial Hall, unleashing a single palm strike.

He raised his arm and brought it down with seemingly casual force. The hundred-zhang expanse of the sea appeared to be struck by a massive iron rod several feet wide. The water rapidly receded on both sides, as if a passage had been carved into the ocean floor out of thin air.

A hundred zhang! Ma Jun-tie felt goosebumps rise all over his skin, his scalp tingling as if from an electric shock. His short black hair stood straight up like quills, and his eyes widened twice their normal size. Ma Jun-tie’s Adam's apple bobbed; his palms sweated cold. He screamed internally: Who is this person? With a casual palm strike from thin air, he carved a hundred-zhang trench in the sea! The concentration of power was so absolute that the observer couldn't possibly gauge his Star Power level.

The separated water crashed back together a second later, squeezed by the surrounding sea, forming cresting waves several people high.

Lin Ling watched the astonishing devastation caused by Qin Fen's strike without the slightest change in expression, still gazing quietly at the ocean, her emotionless eyes suggesting she hadn't even registered the terrifying impact.

Qin Fen calmly observed his right hand, the agent of this world-shattering blow, a faint smile touching his lips. He turned to the stunned Ma Jun-tie and nodded lightly. "Thank you."

"Ah?" Ma Jun-tie looked at Qin Fen, confused. He had no idea that the name he casually mentioned had so profoundly affected this grand master, nor did he understand the realm of Tian Ren He Yi.

Qin Fen slowly lowered his right hand and looked again at the still turbulent, endlessly surging ocean surface, sighing with contemplation. His luck seemed excellent lately; in less than two months, he had briefly entered the state of Tian Ren He Yi twice.

He took a deep breath and began to be grateful for his previous unique life experiences. Without that past, even if he had practiced the Taijiquan or created the Eighteen Forms of Innate Motion and Stillness, hearing that name wouldn't have triggered the Tian Ren He Yi state. Entering this state twice in under two months—Song Jia had mentioned no one had ever accomplished such a feat. This time, it was truly great fortune.

Qin Fen gestured, inviting the startled Ma Jun-tie, who had jumped up, to sit down. "Your idol is Thirty-Six Hours?"

Ma Jun-tie, facing Qin Fen who could cleave the sea surface with a casual palm strike, sat down feeling somewhat awkward and restless beside him, nodding repeatedly. His cheeks showed a flush of surprise mixed with pride and excitement. "You know of Thirty-Six Hours too?"

As of this afternoon, more chapters are forthcoming (To be continued)