Li Muzhan’s robes billowed, snapping as if in a great gale, and the cap upon his head flew off, revealing his gleaming scalp and confirming his identity as a monk.
The eight middle-aged men started, exchanging glances, curiosity piqued by Li Muzhan's status.
“From Luotuo Temple?” The handsome middle-aged man’s smile froze, his brow furrowing.
The remaining seven scrutinized Li Muzhan, their expressions darkening.
They understood that if he truly hailed from Luotuo Temple, the situation would become exceedingly troublesome. Though Luotuo Temple was a Buddhist monastery, benevolent and compassionate, when it came to subduing demons and vanquishing fiends, they were notoriously ruthless.
Despite their profound martial arts skill, placing them among the top masters, they felt a distinct unease facing Luotuo Temple, a thread of apprehension weaving through them. Their faces paled, and all eyes turned toward the handsome middle-aged man.
The handsome middle-aged man drew a breath, his composure returning. He smiled faintly, “The world rarely holds such coincidences. If he were truly from Luotuo Temple, he would have announced himself long ago; why conceal his identity? Brothers, worry not, there’s a high probability he is not from Luotuo Temple!”
He turned, cupped his hands in salute, and called out loudly, “Two young ladies, might I ask the origins of this young cleric? Surely he is not a high monk from Luotuo Temple?”
Li Yujiao gave them a fleeting glance before turning her head away.
Wang Shuangfeng, mindful of Li Muzhan’s prior instruction not to reveal his affiliation, shook her head. “No!”
The others collectively let out a breath of relief. Though each voice was soft, their combined sound created a distinct surge of volume, instantly making them feel quite awkward.
Li Yujiao glanced at them and offered a faint smile. They were greatly annoyed, catching the mockery in her expression, yet constrained by caution, they turned away as if they had seen nothing.
“He truly isn’t?” the handsome middle-aged man inquired with a smile.
Wang Shuangfeng stated coolly, “Rest assured, Martial Uncle is not from Luotuo Temple!”
The handsome middle-aged man smiled smoothly. “That I can well believe. We have never heard of any connection between Luotuo Temple and the Wang family of Penglai!”
Wang Shuangfeng replied thinly, “We wouldn't presume such an honor!”
“If that’s the case, then the young lady belongs to the Wang family of Penglai?” The handsome middle-aged man’s eyes brightened.
Wang Shuangfeng snorted, turned away, and ignored him completely.
The handsome middle-aged man stroked his beard and smiled, unperturbed. His sharp eyes flickered as he was about to speak, when suddenly he felt an immense pressure bear down upon him, causing his legs to buckle as if to force him to his knees.
He hastily channeled his internal energy to his legs, arresting the weakness, and straightened himself up. Turning, he saw that the expressions of everyone else had subtly shifted, all staring intently at Li Muzhan.
Within a sphere of light, Li Muzhan sat cross-legged, like a Buddha descending to the mortal realm, his body suffused with radiance, resembling a bright moon illuminating the valley, causing the surroundings to become hazy.
Li Muzhan sat within the glow, his face obscured; only the indistinct outline of his figure could be perceived through the light, a truly strange spectacle.
The light gradually dimmed, slowly contracting, and then, with a sudden rush, it retracted entirely, drilling into the crown of Li Muzhan’s head. He opened his eyes, and two beams of golden light shot forth, seemingly tangible. Every person they brushed against felt a tremor deep within their hearts.
He flashed suddenly, vanishing, and reappeared directly before the handsome middle-aged man, striking out with a palm. The palm landed squarely upon the man’s chest as internal energy surged forth.
With a dull thud, the handsome middle-aged man was flung backward, slamming heavily against the eastern cliff face. He slid down limply, motionless—his fate uncertain.
From the moment Li Muzhan vanished to the moment the handsome man flew back, only the blink of an eye had passed; the other seven had no time to react before their leader lay still.
Li Muzhan moved like a phantom, flashing again to appear behind another man. A burst of internal energy from his palm sent that man flying out as well, hitting the stone wall with another muffled thud, before sliding to the ground, lifeless.
The remaining six finally reacted, instantly forming a protective circle, backs touching. One of the middle-aged men roared, “Heretical arts! Ignore him, draw your weapons and defend yourselves!”
The other five realized the danger immediately, drawing their swords and whirling them to form a screen of light, impenetrable, denying Li Muzhan a chance to close the distance.
Li Muzhan moved. Clang! A sharp sound rang out as a long sword was flicked into the night sky, vanishing. Li Muzhan materialized behind the circle of six men.
He swept a sleeve—the Ruthless Sleeve—and the five staggered. Then, with a few gentle taps, the five men were flung outward one by one, each striking a stone wall before collapsing limply.
Witnessing this brutality, the two women felt a pang of sorrow.
Li Yujiao quickly called out, “Martial Uncle,…”
Li Muzhan turned his head slightly, his gaze ice-cold. The two women started, feeling a chill deep in their bones. The Li Muzhan before them seemed a completely different person, devoid of all emotion.
Normally, Li Muzhan was gentle and magnanimous, his gaze warm, a presence they cherished. Now, that look held no warmth, only utter indifference.
Li Muzhan said flatly, “You two leave first!”
With that, his form flickered, instantly dissolving into the narrow valley, and he turned back the way they had come.
The two women stood frozen momentarily, until the night wind snapped them back to awareness. Wang Shuangfeng urged, “Sister Li, let’s go look. Martial Uncle isn’t right!”
Li Yujiao bit her lower lip and nodded gently. “He… perhaps…”
She stopped there, unable to finish the sentence, shook her head, and hurried toward the valley to follow Li Muzhan.
When they reached the middle of the ravine, the two women paused, then accelerated, arriving before several dark shapes. Three figures lay sprawled, completely still—they were dead.
The two recognized them: the Three Oddities of Luochuan. Clearly, they had pursued them, only to meet their end here, undoubtedly slain by Li Muzhan.
They looked around, their hearts sinking. Logically, after killing the Three Oddities, he should have sought them out; yet, he was nowhere in sight.
“Sister Li, could there be others? Did Martial Uncle go after those other people?” Wang Shuangfeng whispered.
“Yes, that’s highly possible!” Li Yujiao nodded quickly. After a moment of thought, she asked, “Which way should we go?”
Wang Shuangfeng frowned, considering. “Forward! Martial Uncle must have rushed ahead!”
The two hurried forward, their hearts pounding, unsure where Li Muzhan had gone. They worried intensely about the consequences for his body after forcing the Great Bright King Scripture.
They didn't know what the ultimate result would be, but the thought alone was terrifying, forcing them to rush onward, hoping desperately to catch up to Li Muzhan.
They traveled intensely for two hours. As dawn neared, they reached the outskirts of Fancheng. The first light of morning painted the sky pale blue—it was nearly daybreak.
Their faces were grim, filled with both worry and urgency. They hadn't seen Li Muzhan along the road; if he were ahead, they should have encountered him. But there was no sign.
Could it be he was behind them, having collapsed somewhere?
Anxiety gnawed at them, yet they had no plan but to trust in chance.
Outside Fancheng was a hill. The official road ran east to west along its base. The slope was covered in dense forest—pines, poplars, and jujube trees, a thick, lush expanse.
“Huh?” Li Yujiao suddenly stopped short. Wang Shuangfeng had already run ten zhang ahead before noticing. She had been distracted, her mind replaying moments spent with Li Muzhan.
Noticing Li Yujiao had halted, she quickly turned back. “What is it, Sister Li?”
Li Yujiao frowned. “Do you smell blood? I smell blood.”
Wang Shuangfeng sniffed the air and shook her head.
“No mistake. It’s over there. Go!” Li Yujiao pointed toward the woods, then accelerated, vanishing into the trees on the hillside. Wang Shuangfeng’s spirits lifted, and she quickly followed.
By the time Wang Shuangfeng entered the forest, Li Yujiao, moving with extraordinary swiftness, was already out of sight. She stopped, about to call out, when Li Yujiao’s voice drifted down from above: “Over here! Hurry!”
Wang Shuangfeng rushed over, calling out excitedly, “Is it Martial Uncle?”
“Yes, he’s here!” Li Yujiao confirmed.
Wang Shuangfeng arrived breathlessly, nearly crashing into a tree; several tears appeared in her garments, but she paid them no mind, moving with utmost speed to Li Yujiao’s side.
A dense stench of blood assaulted her, making her stomach turn, nearly causing her to retch. She swept her gaze across the ground: a mass of bodies, nearly a hundred of them, lay scattered. The earth felt slightly tacky, as if it had recently rained.
At that moment, Li Yujiao was standing beneath a pine tree, supporting someone.
Wang Shuangfeng paid no attention to anything else, running over. She looked down and saw their Martial Uncle, Li Muzhan.
His face was flushed scarlet, as if intoxicated, and he lay motionless in Li Yujiao’s embrace, his lips tightly pressed together, his expression resolute and determined.
Tears instantly streamed down Wang Shuangfeng’s face. She quickly knelt down to check Li Muzhan’s wrist pulse.
As she checked his pulse, her tears fell in strings, like pearls dropping onto the grass and merging with the soil.
“He’s still alive!” Li Yujiao whispered.
Wang Shuangfeng gently lowered his wrist, wiping her eyes. “Sister Li, do you have any spiritual medicine?”
“Yes, I’ve already given it to him. It should keep him alive!” Li Yujiao nodded, then sighed heavily. “But his martial arts…”
She shook her head, worry clouding her face, and sighed deeply again.
“As long as his life is saved, his martial arts can be rebuilt slowly,” Wang Shuangfeng asserted.
Li Yujiao shook her head. “Easier said than done. For him, having no martial arts might be worse than death!”
She tried to imagine herself in his position; if she couldn't cultivate, if she became disabled, life would hold no savor—death would be preferable.
“Martial Uncle is a man of faith; his state of mind transcends the ordinary. He won’t despair,” Wang Shuangfeng countered. She extended her arms and lifted Li Muzhan. “Let’s take him into the city!”
Li Yujiao surveyed their surroundings. “Yes, I doubt anyone will try to intercept us in this area now!”
She gestured to the ground. “It truly is a river of blood. Martial Brother went on a rampage!”
Wang Shuangfeng finally understood; that explained why the ground was slick. It was soaked in fresh blood. She suppressed the churning in her stomach. “Let’s get moving quickly.”
Li Yujiao let her carry Li Muzhan, following behind as she spoke, “What should we do now?”
Wang Shuangfeng asked, “When will Martial Uncle wake up?”
“Probably soon,” Li Yujiao replied.
Wang Shuangfeng decided, “Then we’ll let Martial Uncle decide when he wakes.”
Li Yujiao nodded, saying no more. They quietly reached the outskirts of Fancheng, then used their lightness skills to leap over the city wall, knocked on the door of an inn, and secured a small courtyard residence.
The two women laid Li Muzhan onto the bed, then sat by his side, guarding him as they waited for him to awaken.
Li Muzhan’s complexion began to improve; clearly, Li Yujiao’s elixir was working. Gradually, the flush faded from his face, returning to the color of fine jade, and his breathing steadied significantly.
It wasn't until noon, when the sun was directly overhead, that Li Muzhan stirred awake. The two women were overcome with joy, rushing to the bedside, whispering, “Martial Brother!” “Martial Uncle!”
Li Muzhan slowly opened his eyes, surveyed the ceiling above him, then slowly turned to the two women and smiled faintly. “I’m still alive?”
“Martial Uncle, you have great fortune; how could you die!” Wang Shuangfeng quickly said.
Li Muzhan smiled, attempting to sit up, but felt weak and powerless. Li Yujiao quickly stepped forward to help him up, while Wang Shuangfeng placed a stack of high pillows behind him. The two cooperated with practiced familiarity.
Sitting propped up against the pillows, Li Muzhan looked at the two women and chuckled. “You weren’t injured, were you?”
“Martial Brother, you killed everyone; who would dare injure us?” Li Yujiao replied with a slight smile.
Li Muzhan nodded. “I don’t recall exactly what happened; it was like a drunken stupor, everything forgotten. As long as we are all alive, that’s what matters.”
“Martial Uncle, you…” Wang Shuangfeng’s expression turned melancholic, and she sighed, shaking her head.
Li Muzhan laughed lightly. “It’s fine. Other than this, nothing major happened; nothing worth worrying about. Just managing to cling to this life is enough for me!”
He had already performed an internal scan: his meridians were shattered, rendering him unable to circulate energy. Only the tempering of the Indestructible Vajra Divine Art had prevented his body from collapsing entirely and expiring immediately.
His Dantian held only a faint trace of internal energy, a small circle of clear water. The crystal bead within glowed with a pale light, showing little change—as long as the bead remained unharmed, he was content.
“Martial Brother, you must rest and recuperate slowly; you will recover,” Li Yujiao assured him.
Li Muzhan smiled. “Mmm, I’ll take your auspicious words, Junior Sister!”
Wang Shuangfeng remained silent. She had sensed the condition within Li Muzhan. This was no minor injury. Such severe damage to the meridians meant endless future complications; he likely would never practice martial arts again.
Meridian damage was the most critical injury. Internal energy could not be used to heal it; only medicine could help, but the efficacy of medicine was limited. With injuries this severe, complete recovery was nearly impossible; some residual effects would surely remain.
Seeing her distress, Li Muzhan laughed. “Silly girl, don’t overthink it. My master possesses the Yin-Yang Fortune Technique. As long as there is a breath left in me, it can be healed!”
Wang Shuangfeng’s spirits lifted instantly. She nodded vigorously, a look of joy returning to her face.
That was right—the Yin-Yang Fortune Technique of the Canghai Sword Sect was a renowned wonder in the world, capable of seizing creation from heaven and earth, healing the dead and restoring withered flesh. Such injuries surely could not be too serious!
“Martial Brother, why don’t we hide out here for a while? What do you think?” Li Yujiao suggested.
Li Muzhan nodded. “Yes, hide for a few days. Someone will come to meet us.”
“Someone?” Li Yujiao was surprised.
Li Muzhan chuckled. “I already dispatched a messenger to Canghai Mountain, requesting the Eldest Senior Sister to come personally.”
“The Cold Lotus Fairy, Wen Yinyue?!” Li Yujiao said slowly.
Li Muzhan glanced at her. “Oh? You’ve met my Eldest Senior Sister?”
Li Yujiao huffed. “I’ve heard her name spoken often. They say she is the foremost expert among the younger generation. I wonder if she’s truly that formidable!”
Li Muzhan smiled. “Close enough, I suppose. I’ve met some of the young masters—Xin Jue from Luotuo Temple, the Nangong brothers from the Nangong family, several young masters from the Wang family, the Helian family, those from Xiankong Island, the Gongsun family. None of them surpass Eldest Senior Sister.”
“And what about me?!” Li Yujiao huffed back.
Li Muzhan smiled. “Junior Sister, though your martial arts are deep, compared to Eldest Senior Sister… there is still a gap. You’ll understand when you meet her.”
“The Cold Lotus Fairy, indeed!” Li Yujiao was clearly unconvinced, her bright eyes flashing with light.
Li Muzhan had Li Yujiao draw a symbol near the city gate, and then the three waited in this high-rise inn. The two women looked after him tenderly.
After speaking for only a short time, Li Muzhan began to feel overwhelmed. A dull soreness permeated his body, as if he’d been trampled by elephants. After sitting for a while, it became taxing, and he lay back down slowly, supported by Wang Shuangfeng.
Fortunately, Li Yujiao’s elixir was miraculous. Warm energy circulated through his body in waves, and though it couldn't mend his meridians, it soothed his body and lessened the pain.
By evening, his pain had somewhat subsided. After eating the food the two women procured, he dismissed them and sat cross-legged, beginning to circulate the Scripture of Observing Heaven and Humanity’s Divine Illumination.
His four Heart Pearls had not diminished with his physical decline; instead, his spirit had become more concentrated, and the pearls shone even brighter, truly resembling luminous pearls.
In the vision of the Scripture of Observing Heaven and Humanity’s Divine Illumination, his aspect body appeared. The four Heart Pearls instantly drilled into the Heavenly Gate, transforming into a vertical eye between his brows. The aspect body formed a hand seal, and immediately a sheet of moonlight descended.
The moonlight materialized as tangible water. His aspect body seemed immersed in a warm spring, his entire frame enveloped in warmth, every cell bursting with vitality—an indescribable comfort.
Suddenly, a night passed. He withdrew from the vision of the Scripture of Observing Heaven and Humanity’s Divine Illumination, his consciousness pulling back from the pearls into the real world.
He restrained the impulse not to attempt cultivating the Nine Revolutions Marrow Cleansing Scripture within the Divine Illumination vision.
After all, his meridians were too fragile now; one misstep, and they might shatter like porcelain fragments. It was better to wait for another day.
In the early morning, the two women practiced their swordplay in the small courtyard. Wang Shuangfeng wore a tight green tunic; Li Yujiao was clad in a crisp moon-white uniform, both looking sharp, though lacking their usual vigor.
When they saw Li Muzhan push open the door, both women were astonished and rushed over. Wang Shuangfeng reached out to help him, but Li Muzhan recoiled slightly, dodging her touch, and waved his hand. “No need, I can walk myself.”
Li Yujiao stared at him in surprise. “Martial Brother, you can get out of bed?”
Li Muzhan smiled. “My Indestructible Vajra Divine Art wasn't practiced in vain!”
The two women understood instantly. They deeply admired the Indestructible Vajra Divine Art, but knew it was impossible for women to cultivate such a technique—a true pity.
The three moved into the courtyard. Just as they were about to speak, Li Muzhan suddenly turned, gazing toward the entrance, and said gravely, “Is that Eldest Senior Sister?”
“Yes, it’s me.” A white shadow flashed, and Wen Yinyue materialized, seemingly accompanied by a gentle breeze. Clad in a flowing white gown, a light veil covered her face, revealing an ethereal bearing and fairy-like presence.