He had experienced the Nine Luminaries Divine Sword; it was dazzling, comparable to a modern-day flash grenade.

In a clash between masters, the difference of a hair’s breadth determines life or death. Suddenly, when sight is lost, even the most elite experts, despite having acute hearing that can substitute for eyes, cannot help but be momentarily stunned.

That moment of mental lapse—it can be used to accomplish many things; it can seal a person’s fate.

The sword manual was thin, only a few pages. He scrutinized the cover a few times. Four characters, written in a bold, sweeping script, exuded an imposing majesty, like a fierce tiger roaring atop a high peak.

A faint smile touched his lips as he caressed the cover, his index finger tracing the characters in the empty air, imitating their form.

These four characters were certainly extraordinary. Judging the man by his writing, this Nine Luminaries Divine Sword technique must be a supremely domineering style, like the midday sun blazing down, intensely scorching.

After practicing the strokes for a good while, he turned to the first page, still wanting more.

“Heaven and Earth are most vast, unified by a single Qi, filling all creation. Purity rises, turbidity descends, giving birth to all things. Light is the essence leaked from the Sun and Moon, the flowering of Qi. Mortals know it not, seeing yet failing to perceive—what a pity…”

He read through it in one breath. There were six pages in total. The first three were entirely dedicated to the importance of light. The fourth page contained a cultivation method for drawing in the essence of the sun and moon. The final two pages detailed two stances of swordplay.

Li Muzhan frowned, sinking into contemplation.

Absorbing the essence of the sun and moon—he had read many novels in later ages, fantasy wuxia, Strange Tales from a Chinese Studio—it wasn't entirely new to him.

However, during martial practice, he had never entertained such a notion. He had always dismissed it as myth; internal energy and sunlight seemed utterly unrelated, difficult to connect.

Yet here, he encountered a cultivation method that could draw in the essence of the sun and moon, channeling it into the Dantian to convert it into internal energy. It truly was an outlandish concept.

He shook his head and chuckled, looking up at the sky. The sun was nearing its zenith, radiating scorching heat. The trees lining the road drooped their heads, listless and withered.

The guards, however, were invigorated. The weakest among them were Bronze Armor Guards, their internal energy protecting them, their Jing Qi Shen whole; mere heat could hardly trouble them.

He cycled the cultivation method through his mind several times, then tentatively began to circulate it. His spirit exited through the Tianmen (Heavenly Gate). Looking up at the blazing sun, he drew a single thread of light from the myriad rays, guiding it through the Tianmen down the Ren Meridian straight into his Dantian.

The manual stated that beginning cultivation was best done at dawn, when the sun first rose and its golden rays streamed forth, each ray distinct and visible. Once proficient, any time during the day would suffice.

This method was described as supreme and miraculous, a path toward sagehood and immortality, the shortcut to great accomplishment. Once one gained entry, it became simple beyond measure, leading to swift mastery. Alas, this method demanded an exceedingly high innate talent; achieving the entry level was as difficult as climbing to heaven.

As the sunlight flowed into his Dantian, the core instantly felt warm. His perception was acute, far beyond that of ordinary men; he could distinctly feel that this method was indeed effective, bringing a slight thrill to his heart.

Following the method precisely, ray after ray of light was guided into his Dantian. In a short while, the core felt as warm as if baked by fire. He then ceased.

Internal energy must not become too hot; excessive heat easily caused myriad complications and disrupted bodily balance.

Stopping the circulation, he slowly focused inward, managing the surging internal energy in his Dantian. It felt mildly tingly. This quarter of an hour of effort was equivalent to half an hour of normal meditation.

He sighed inwardly: truly a miraculous technique.

He walked onward, regulating his breathing. After five full cycles, the energy fully integrated. The Dantian swelled further, feeling faintly numb, as the Sun’s essence was completely released.

It seemed the book was correct; light truly was the essence of Qi.

He pondered this deeply, never stopping his pace, keeping alongside the carriage.

Knights surrounded him, yet he alone walked. Having walked all morning under the scorching sun, he appeared utterly unperturbed, not a drop of sweat on him.

Those nearby witnessed this and sighed inwardly. He was indeed worthy of being the Young Mistress's personal guard. Though only a Bronze Armor Guard, judging by his cultivation, he was no less capable than a Silver Armor Guard.

Mei Ruolan suddenly spoke, “Xiao Yuan, tell them to stop up ahead and rest our feet for a while.”

“Got it!” Xiao Yuan pulled back the curtain, glanced at Li Muzhan, offered a bright smile, and floated forward to approach an elderly man at the very front of the procession.

This elder was richly dressed, tall, with a cold expression—he was Elder Ouyang, a Gold Armor Guard.

The other elder, dressed in grey cloth and surnamed Zhang, was at the rear of the line. His hair was white, but his face resembled an infant’s; he smiled constantly, his gaze gentle and benevolent.

The two elders presented a stark contrast: Elder Ouyang was sternly imposing, while Elder Zhang was approachable and kind.

Hearing Xiao Yuan’s instruction, the elder nodded, calling out forcefully, “Everyone, we will rest briefly in the woods ahead!”

The entire group responded in unison, quickening their pace slightly.

Not far ahead lay a grove of pine trees, dense with foliage, lush and green, offering a tangible sense of coolness amid the sweltering heat.

Xiao Yuan returned and walked beside Li Muzhan, tilting her head with a smile to ask, “Zhanran, are you hot?”

Li Muzhan smiled and shook his head.

Xiao Yuan said, “If you are hot, you can come inside and rest for a bit. It’s quite cool in the carriage.”

Li Muzhan smiled and shook his head again: “No trouble, a calm heart brings coolness.”

Xiao Yuan wrinkled her nose, “You’re too blessed to enjoy it! Riding a horse is much better; you get the breeze that way.”

Li Muzhan engaged her in intermittent conversation, finding the exchange quite pleasant.

The procession rounded a bend ahead, leaving the main road to enter the adjacent pine forest, quickly forming a loose circle with Mei Ruolan’s carriage at the center.

Li Muzhan admired this inwardly. The Mei family's convoy was truly impressive, orderly and efficient. Without effort, they had established a defensive perimeter; any enemy attempting to break into the circle would face a challenge.

A middle-aged man distributed preserved meats, dry rations, and waterskins, respectfully handing them toward the carriage interior.

Gong Qingyun soon emerged, dressed in purple robes identical to Mei Ruolan’s. She carried some cured meat, rations, and a waterskin, presenting them to Li Muzhan.

Li Muzhan accepted them with a smile. Their eyes met for a fleeting instant before Gong Qingyun turned and retreated.

The sun hung high, its rays fierce, seemingly intent on melting all creation. The horses hung their heads; the coachmen ate their dry rations while fetching water to wash and feed their charges the fine grains.

Though not official guards, these coachmen possessed cultivation. Despite being drenched in sweat, their spirits remained high.

Each carriage was accompanied by four guards—one Silver Armor and three Bronze Armor—who either ate quietly, rested their eyes, stood practicing Qi circulation, or sat in meditation.

Li Muzhan sat beside the carriage, cross-legged on the thick, soft grass. The three ladies emerged from the carriage and conversed softly not far from him.

Li Muzhan did not partake in the food. His viscera had been tempered; his Vajra Indestructible Divine Art was at the Great Perfection of the first layer. His organs were pure and empty, sustaining the body through Qi alone, drastically reducing his need for the essence found in grains.

Were it not for the enjoyment of satisfying the palate, he could go three or four days without eating.

The brief eye contact with Gong Qingyun earlier had sparked a flash of insight in his mind, and now, seated in meditation, he sought to trace that fleeting light.

Human thought is like lightning; notions are like flowing water, gone in an instant, never to return. But for him, they were like clear beads, distinct and defined.

He reconstructed the scene in his mind. The new thought was different, but by following this thread, he could locate the previous one, capturing the lost insight.

It sounded mysterious, yet profound, but his depth of Zen cultivation had already allowed him to transcend the Desire Realm, making the exercise relatively easy.

In his mind, Gong Qingyun’s eyes reappeared—like water, like ripples, clear and softly bright. Unlike Mei Ruolan’s intoxicating gaze, this possessed its own distinct charm.

With the thought reproduced, he instantly reclaimed the vanished inspiration.

The corners of his mouth curled up slightly. Smiling, he formed a mudra: thumb and forefinger touching to create a circle, the remaining three fingers arranged neatly.

Mei Ruolan frowned, turning to glance at him.

Her internal energy was deep, her perception sharp; she sensed something unusual—the surrounding temperature abruptly rising, the heat source emanating from Li Muzhan.

Xiao Yuan cried out, “Oh my, it’s so hot!”

Gong Qingyun quickly raised a finger to her lips, glancing at Li Muzhan.

Xiao Yuan stuck out her tongue and laughed, “Zhanran is really working hard!”

Gong Qingyun smiled but said nothing, lowering her head to eat her rations, her posture as elegant as Mei Ruolan’s.

Mei Ruolan looked at Li Muzhan one last time, finding nothing overtly abnormal, and slowly returned her gaze.

Li Muzhan loosened his hand seal and slowly opened his eyes. His gaze was clear, piercingly sharp, but the intense light quickly retracted, returning to normal. He turned his head and looked toward the west.

Just now, struck by inspiration, he had recalled the Gazing at Heaven and Man Divine Illumination Scripture, which described sitting in meditation atop a lotus to draw down lunar essence to restore the body. If one could absorb the essence of the sun and moon, why not try this approach?

No sooner thought than done, he immediately formed the mudra, focusing his spirit upon it to commune with the essence of Heaven and Earth.

Due to his profound Zen skill, in a moment, his spirit achieved perfect unification. Instantly, a hazy, hot vapor rushed down, drilling into his body.

His whole being grew hot, as if being baked by fire, yet his spirit remained unmoved. The Sun’s essence poured in continuously, the temperature rising higher and higher.

Moments later, he released the mudra, and the temperature immediately returned to normal.

The scorching energy swirled within his body like miniature cyclones. His pores opened fully, expelling and absorbing until the heat was quickly transformed into a mild warmth.

At this moment, his entire body felt as if immersed in a hot spring; every cell seemed to awaken, his body felt light, as if he might float away like a feather.

The Gazing at Heaven and Man Divine Illumination Scripture differed from the Nine Luminaries Heart Method. The latter guided the Sun’s essence directly into the Dantian to convert into internal energy through circulation.

The Gazing at Heaven and Man Divine Illumination Scripture was different; it dispersed the energy throughout the body without entering the Dantian, rendering it unusable for active martial application.

A sudden thought flashed through his mind, suggesting another method.

He was about to execute this new idea when he abruptly opened his eyes and turned toward the west. At that moment, a long, surging howl arrived, like water bursting from a dam, piercing the ears of everyone present.

Li Muzhan frowned, swiftly rose, and stood beside the carriage.

The howl was followed by peals of booming laughter that echoed into the clouds.

Amidst the laughter, two elders in yellow robes swept over the treetops, landing gracefully before the assembled group.

One elder had a square face and moderate stature, his eyes cold and sharp. The other was thin as a pole, his eyes shining intensely, exuding majesty with every glance.

Elder Ouyang stepped forward, his voice deep: “Which eminent masters approach? What counsel do you offer?”

“What goods are you carrying in that carriage?” the square-faced elder laughed boisterously.

Elder Ouyang replied coldly, “That is none of your concern!”

“It seems you are carrying something good!” the square-faced elder turned and laughed to his companion.

The thin elder slowly surveyed the group, his gaze sharp as a blade, almost taking physical form.

Elder Ouyang sneered, “If the two of you are determined to cause trouble, then show your hand!”

“Good, straightforward!” the square-faced elder clapped his hands and laughed, turning to say, “Old Third, why don’t you test their skills?”

“Fine,” the thin elder responded deeply, striding toward Elder Ouyang.