A cool breeze stirred as Li Muzhan slipped out of Tenglong City, gliding across the vast grassland like a phantom, dissolving into a wisp of smoke, and in no time, his mastery brought him near Lingyun City.

There were no falcons in the sky; Li Muzhan’s passage went unnoticed, a slight regret touching him. Just outside Lingyun City, he suddenly unleashed a long, piercing cry.

The sound, deep and resonant like a rolling pearl, scattered outwards, carrying for miles and enveloping the entirety of Lingyun City.

Li Muzhan’s shout was brimming with provocation.

A responding, long howl immediately echoed, followed by a dark silhouette leaping down from the city walls. It descended like a scattered feather, floating gracefully to the ground, and in a blink, his great skill brought him close.

This shadow was broad and tall, clad in black armor, his head covered by a dark helm, revealing only a pair of eyes from which cold light fiercely shot forth—it was clearly a Black Eagle Rider.

Li Muzhan felt the oppressive aura emanating from the man, steeped in such chilling murderous intent that it made the heart freeze.

......................................................, Li Muzhan frowned; such a chilling aura suggested a history of countless killings. His gaze, sharp as cold lightning, held no trace of human emotion, viewing him as nothing more than a dead man.

This very image matched the description given by Yan Lengsi.

“Who are you?” Li Muzhan asked in a gentle voice.

A soft breeze swept by, making his robes flutter, enhancing his unrestrained demeanor—the bearing of an ethereal, transcendent high monk.

A cold voice issued from within the tall man’s helm: “The one who will kill you!”

From the voice alone, Li Muzhan deduced the man was around forty, in the prime of his strength, the zenith of manhood.

Li Muzhan said, “Two days ago, you wounded one of my comrades. Do you remember?” The tall man snorted coldly, “I kill people every day; how could I remember them all!” As the words fell, he stamped his foot and surged toward Li Muzhan, moving faster than a galloping steed, his momentum frantic and soul-shaking, his fist aimed directly at Li Muzhan’s chest.

Li Muzhan inhaled sharply and drifted back a step with practiced ease.

The tall man roared in anger, his fists coming down like iron hammers, striking with lightning speed and ferocious momentum. Yet, his punches were utterly silent, generating no rush of wind—this stark contrast made his martial style profoundly bizarre.

Such a strange fist technique would be devastating in a surprise attack, but facing it head-on, its power seemed diminished. Li Muzhan dodged left and weaved right, refusing to meet force with force.

He could tell there was something peculiar about this man’s inner strength; otherwise, he wouldn't possess such an uncanny style. The secret of his internal energy must be unique.

Although Li Muzhan’s Canghai Shen Gong was perfected and his Qi membrane billowed, he dared not be careless. Prudence was the mother of safety; the martial world was filled with hidden masters and strange talents, where one misstep could lead to ruin.

The tall man attacked for more than twenty moves, and Li Muzhan vaguely discerned his pattern.

“Monk, is that all you’ve got?” the tall man sneered, contempt flickering in his eyes.

Li Muzhan smiled faintly, “Very well, watch out then!” His figure instantly solidified, both hands rising simultaneously, thumbs extended.

................................................ “Chii—” Two streaks of finger force shot out simultaneously, striking the tall man instantly. They were too close; even if he wished to dodge, he lacked the space to maneuver.

With a dull thud—Peng—he was sent flying backward.

Li Muzhan extended his index finger, and with a Wooo sound, the finger force collided with the man mid-air.

With a crisp Pop, a splatter of blood burst from his chest. His falling body skidded sideways for a stretch, landing like a discarded cloth sack.

Li Muzhan drew back his hands, his expression solemn. Such was the might of the Canghai Shen Jian.

He slowly closed his eyes, reviewing the exchange, tallying the gains and losses. It seemed the Canghai Shen Jian was best used like a hidden weapon, deployed at the critical moment for overwhelming power.

Most crucially, with his six Heart Pearls, his internal energy circulated about six times faster than normal, thus the speed of the Canghai Shen Jian was several times its original velocity. Without the Heart Pearls’ amplification, the Canghai Shen Jian would still be formidable, but not this terrifying—instantaneous and unavoidable, truly a killing blow.

He approached the large man and used the Duan Yue Dao to pry open the helm, revealing a rugged middle-aged face. The man still clung to a breath of life.

Seeing Li Muzhan approach, he slowly opened his eyes, his gaze calm and utterly detached.

“Alas…” Li Muzhan sighed, tapping the man’s Dantian with his index finger before gesturing, catching the fallen helm, and effortlessly tossing it away.

Angry roars and curses rose from behind him.

Li Muzhan had crippled his martial arts, repaying the blow in kind, thus avenging Yan Lengsi, but he hadn't killed him. Without his cultivation, the man was no longer a threat.

Li Muzhan threw his head back and roared toward the heavens, as if riding the wind, drifting away. In a flash, his mastery brought him back to Tenglong City, slipping directly through the western wall and into the inner camp.

The moment he returned, intending to go to his room, Elder Ji, Old Man Li, and the others suddenly emerged, surrounding him and eagerly inquiring about the recent encounter.

Li Muzhan smiled, tossed the helm to them, and briefly recounted the events, stating he had ultimately crippled the man’s martial arts, thus avenging Yan Lengsi. Elder Ji nodded: “Good, Mingkong, you did right.” “Why didn’t you just slaughter the bastard!?” Old Man Li grumbled in dissatisfaction.

Li Muzhan chuckled, “An eye for an eye; without his martial arts, he cannot do evil, so I spared his life!” “You little monk, you have a compassionate heart!” Old Man Li gave him a sidelong glance but said no more; after all, having a benevolent heart was hardly a bad thing.

Besides, crippling the man’s cultivation meant he wouldn't be able to fight on the battlefield again, which counted as revenge enough.

......................................................

In the following days, Li Muzhan remained in the inner camp, diligently practicing the Jingang Buhuai Shengong, focusing his mind on tempering his tendons, using the compression of the inner membrane to press and reshape his bones.

He had abandoned the Little Dragon Form; he spent his days sitting motionless in meditation, as if in secluded retreat.

One day, after sparring with Li Muzhan, Elder Ji suddenly spoke, “Mingkong, ordinarily, you should be cultivating the Great Dragon Form now. But since we cannot teach it, we won't force you. We are sorry to disappoint you.”

Li Muzhan smiled, “Elder Ji, please don't say that. Being able to spar with you masters has benefited me immensely; how could I dare to be so greedy?”

Elder Ji pondered for a moment, then said, “I have a set of techniques here, specifically for conditioning tendons and bones. While it might not be an ultimate skill, it is certainly profound. Try learning it.”

“Yes, thank you, Elder Ji.” Li Muzhan accepted without hesitation.

The others knew to leave, allowing only Li Muzhan and Elder Ji to remain. Elder Ji continued, “I obtained this set of skills by chance and never managed to fully grasp it. You try it out.” He reached into his robes and pulled out a thin silk booklet, handing it to Li Muzhan.

Li Muzhan took the aged silk booklet; it was lighter than air, perhaps weighing only an ounce or two. The cover was blackened, as if smoke-stained, and faintly visible were the characters for Jiao (Dragon).

Upon closer inspection, the characters read Hua Jiao (Transformation into Dragon).

Elder Ji explained, “Let’s call it the Hua Jiao Gong for now. It specializes in training tendons and bones, capable of increasing strength. I practiced it a bit; the effect was remarkable, but my old arms and legs can’t manage the later stages. You are young; you should try it.”

“Good, I will do my best,” Li Muzhan replied with a smile.

He flipped to the last few pages, which contained diagrams of strange, contorted postures, seemingly impossible for a human to achieve. In the illustrations, the figure resembled a black flood dragon, movements fluid and filled with savage power.

Elder Ji patted his shoulder: “Mingkong, practice this well. Once you master this booklet, those old fellows have their own secret, deeply guarded skills, and they’ll all be willing to hand them over.” Li Muzhan smiled, “Elder Ji, how can that be?”

Elder Ji laughed, “With the cultivation you already possess, if we don't pass on the Great Dragon Form, it’s our failing. If we don't teach you these skills, we won't have the face to show ourselves.”

Li Muzhan nodded with a smile, “If that is the case, then your disciple respectfully obeys!” “That’s more like it. Go on!” Elder Ji waved him off with a smile.

Li Muzhan bowed deeply, tucked the silk booklet into his robes, and returned to his room.

As soon as he entered, he sat before his desk, opened the booklet, and began to study it intently, pondering every detail.

It was mostly illustrations, with very few written words. Beneath each drawing were just a few sparse sentences pointing out the essence of the technique—concise and essential, nothing overly profound.

Li Muzhan reviewed it once, memorizing it as if branded onto his mind, and then began his practice.

......................................................

The first illustration was the simplest: bending over, extending the arms, passing the hands between the legs, palms pressing on the ground behind the feet—the waist required extreme flexibility.

Li Muzhan attempted it. Although his internal power was deep and his body robust, his flexibility was lacking. This posture was extremely strenuous; his waist felt nearly broken.

He did not rush. He extended as far as possible without forcing it, knowing he didn't have to perfectly match the diagram yet; such movements could not be rushed; they required slow progression.

These movements were divided into three stages: the beginner stage consisted of eighteen forms, the intermediate stage thirty-six forms, and the advanced stage seventy-two forms.

Li Muzhan first completed the eighteen beginner forms. Afterward, his entire body felt pliant, his tendons and bones stretched, and he experienced an ineffable comfort. His inner energy circulated smoothly, seemingly massaging every muscle fiber in his body.

He was overjoyed; it was truly extraordinary. Such comfort was far beyond ordinary martial arts.

In the following days, he was completely immersed in practicing the Hua Jiao Jue, mastering the entire beginner stage until his movements met the standard. His body became supple, and his tendons lengthened by an inch.

At this point, his body felt soft and comfortable; lifting heavy objects felt effortless. His strength increased by several hundred catties—progress was swift, even surpassing the Jingang Buhuai Shengong.

Initially, he had relied on his Qi membrane to stretch his tendons through internal pressure. Now, having the Hua Jiao Jue, he used external movement to train his tendons, achieving faster results.

Ordinary flexibility exercises could stretch the tendons, but the effect was temporary; after a few days of rest, they would revert. This was not true, permanent growth.

The Hua Jiao Jue was different: through strange movements infused with internal energy, it stretched the tendons while simultaneously facilitating their growth—achieving both, naturally leading to rapid advancement.

After finishing the beginner stage, his tendons grew an inch, and they remained that way, refusing to retract even if he stopped practicing.

The intermediate stage movements were even more difficult, becoming bizarre, entirely violating normal human physiology—sometimes curving into a ball, other times coiling like a snake.

Without the foundation from the beginner stage, these intermediate forms would have been impossible. Now, with his tendons and bones as soft as cotton, although difficult, they were not impossible to perform.

He spent ten days completing the intermediate stage, and his tendons lengthened another inch. (To be continued)