Li Muzhan merely smiled, offering no reply. The crux of the matter became instantly clear to him; as his Xin Tong (Mind Sight) strengthened with the growth of his Xin Zhu (Mind Pearl), its power grew ever more formidable.

Unless one’s spiritual cultivation ran exceptionally deep, evasion would be nearly impossible. Once Ji Wuming departed, Li Muzhan formed a mudra with both hands, closed his eyes once more, and sat motionless, like a statue of the Buddha.

General Hua rose and walked to the front of the desk, hands clasped behind his back, pacing back and forth. His expression remained composed, yet the bright, star-like eyes beneath his sword-like brows flickered incessantly.

Li Muzhan peered down through his Void Eye, musing on what choice he would make in this predicament. Not calling for aid was incredibly dangerous; spurred by the lure of (rank/title), martial artists from every nation would surely come in relentless, frenzied waves of assassination.

Holding them off with only eight guards would prove tremendously difficult. But if he requested reinforcements, it would give the impression of being greedy for life and lacking true spirit, significantly damaging his future prospects.

Even if he secured his life, the chance for promotion would vanish. ...After a long pause, General Hua abruptly stopped pacing, turning his gaze fixedly upon Li Muzhan.

Li Muzhan slowly opened his eyes, gazing at General Hua with a faint smile. "General, have you reached a decision?" "Mingkong, what do you advise I do?" General Hua's eyes burned with intensity.

Li Muzhan smiled slightly. "General should reduce his guard contingent, preferably leaving none at all, and blend in as a common soldier, or perhaps find a suitable stand-in." Hua’s sword-like brows arched, his gaze flickering.

"Why reduce the guards rather than increase them?" Li Muzhan smiled again; given the General’s intelligence, a mere hint should be enough for him to grasp the logic. General Hua held himself to extraordinarily strict standards and was exceedingly low-key, rarely leaving the camp and spending almost all his time within its confines.

Very few outsiders had ever seen the General’s true countenance. Moreover, relying on appearance to find him within the massive military camp would be akin to searching for a needle in a haystack.

While all the assassins might possess a portrait of General Hua, they wouldn't use it to search randomly; they would use it to judge whether they had located the correct target. To find him, one would have to observe the camp's layout, scrutinize the behavior of the personnel, and monitor the guard deployments—where protection was tightest, that was where the great prize was hidden.

He chuckled softly. "General, proceed with caution.

This path carries immense risk, but even seeking aid offers no absolute guarantee; there are always stronger masters hidden among the strong." General Hua considered this, then nodded slowly. "That is sound reasoning." He resumed pacing, hands behind his back, and after a long interval, sighed.

"A single leaf that wishes not to be noticed must dissolve into the forest canopy. It seems I must change my lodgings." Li Muzhan nodded.

"The General must be proficient in the art of Qimen Dunjia. Why not lay down a formation?

Most martial world figures are ignorant of Qimen arts; entering the camp would be like being a headless fly." General Hua agreed. "Yes, that is precisely what should be done." Li Muzhan smiled faintly.

"If this is done, while we cannot guarantee absolute safety, it will be enough to deter most assassins. The rest, we shall handle." "Excellent.

With Mingkong here, I feel greatly reassured!" General Hua laughed. Li Muzhan bowed slightly, smiling.

"The General flatters me; I dare not fail to exert my utmost strength in service..." Li Muzhan had previously learned the techniques of Qimen Dunjia from Elder Ji, but he had never put them into practice, only understanding the theory. The art of Qimen Dunjia was truly complex and profound.

What appeared simple at first glance became exponentially more intricate the deeper one delved, like a well that seemed shallow initially but revealed bottomless depths the more one dug—an endless sensation. He vaguely sensed the operation of the heavens and earth through Qimen Dunjia, yet carrying the derivation further consumed too much mental energy.

Even with his formidable spirit, it was unsustainable. He felt a sense of reverence.

The genius required to conceive of this Qimen Dunjia technique must have been astonishingly rare—truly connecting heaven and earth. Though he had been reincarnated and understood the great mysteries between life and death, he was still far removed from the workings of the cosmos and celestial movements.

Creating Qimen Dunjia himself was utterly impossible. This revealed the truth: there is always a higher heaven, and there are always greater people.

Human insignificance was not worth mentioning, nor was there any cause for arrogance. Whenever the thought of pride surfaced, he needed only to contemplate such historical figures.

General Hua summoned twelve men and assigned their tasks one by one. Instantly, the great camp began to transform, and the central command tent was converted into an ordinary-looking canvas shelter.

Like a single drop entering a vast lake, attempting to locate this specific tent among the countless others was as futile as dragging a needle from the water—the chances were minuscule, relying only on random fortune. Li Muzhan observed from above with his Void Eye; the entire camp reorganization unfolded before him.

Not a single detail escaped scrutiny, becoming imprinted in his mind where he could analyze it and replay it frame by frame, much like modern video recording. He compared what he saw with the theoretical principles of Qimen Dunjia, causing his mastery of the art to advance by leaps and bounds, achieving a qualitative breakthrough.

Watching this transformation granted him a profound grasp of one specific formation, which General Hua called the Eight Trigrams Bewitching Array—once inside, one's sense of direction immediately became corrupted. Entering the array often caused one to mistake east for west and west for east, and the shifts were constant, leading to complete disorientation and utter loss.

Li Muzhan contemplated carefully. This was not merely visual distortion; it targeted all five senses.

Closing one’s eyes, listening to the wind, or feeling the sunlight—none of it worked. The profound mysteries within this art eluded his full comprehension, just as they were generally unknown to others, who could only utilize the technique without understanding its essential subtlety.

While observing, he simultaneously made inferences, generating new ideas for other formations, eager to try them out. Yet, no opportunity arose, as he remained glued to General Hua’s side, inseparable as a shadow.

In just one day, the Eight Trigrams Bewitching Array was complete. General Hua’s tent had also been relocated closer to the interior, making it extremely hidden.

Furthermore, his tent was made utterly indistinguishable from its neighbors; officers wishing to see him had to wait until night, as entering during the day was forbidden. With these arrangements, finding him among the hundreds of tents became nearly impossible—truly foolproof.

Additionally, the camp sentries were reinforced, and the overall defense became significantly tighter. Conversely, Ji Wuming and his seven companions were positioned far away from him, housed in a distant tent.

...That evening, as General Hua practiced his martial arts inside his tent, Li Muzhan sat upon a cushion, hands forming a mudra, his eyes slightly lowered, remaining perfectly still, radiating a solemn majesty like a Buddhist icon. General Hua, clad in dark training attire, moved slowly.

Each posture seemed imbued with immense weight; every motion was arduous, and the surrounding air appeared to ripple in response to his actions. Li Muzhan watched through his Void Eye, searing the entire set of martial arts into his memory.

He recognized it as the Great Dragon Form, the supreme military technique that only a General was permitted to practice. Li Muzhan perceived the profound subtlety of this art: where the wind follows the tiger, the clouds follow the dragon.

Every movement by General Hua was accompanied by genuine Zhenqi. It was a pity that his Zhenqi was not yet pure enough to achieve a misty, cloud-like quality.

If it were him, with his Canghai Divine Art fully mastered and his Zhenqi flowing like liquid mercury, the effect would be entirely different. However, he remained constantly by the General’s side, never leaving—even for meals or sleep.

There was no opportunity for private cultivation. General Hua’s only remaining guard was Li Muzhan himself.

If he left and an incident occurred, it would implicate the entire Divine Radiance Camp, a sin of immeasurable magnitude. He had already etched the Great Dragon Form into his mind, but without the chance to execute it, practicing merely by mental simulation proved inadequate; physical experience was essential.

He was not anxious, however. His thoughts remained focused on the Yu Jian Jue (Sword Guiding Art), constantly deriving and refining it, seeking to push its power higher and higher, to continuously break through and grow stronger.

This endeavor was vastly more difficult than practicing the Great Dragon Form. General Hua let out a long breath, the exhalation thick as mist, shaping itself into an arrow that shot into the ground, creating a deep indentation in the carpet, nearly piercing it.

His black training garment settled, and he slowly lowered his stance, like grass bending in a gale. He slowly concluded his practice, his cold, star-like eyes gleaming sharply, captivating and intimidating.

Only at moments like this did his sharp martial spirit manifest; at all other times, he possessed the refined elegance of a scholar-official. Li Muzhan mused internally that any assassin attempting to strike General Hua would need to memorize his image, or they would surely overlook him even if they saw him, mistaking him for anyone but the General.

General Hua stretched his neck and smiled. "Mingkong, won't you practice?" Li Muzhan opened his eyes, shook his head, and smiled back.

"General, I have already practiced the Lesser Dragon Form; practicing it further offers little benefit. I prefer to sit quietly for a time and refresh my spirit." 'The Lesser Dragon Form offers no further benefit?' General Hua chuckled.

Li Muzhan nodded. "Yes.

I entered the inner camp and received guidance from several seniors; further practice of the Lesser Dragon Form is unnecessary." 'Then the Lesser Dragon Form focuses on strengthening Qi. It seems your internal energy is sufficient,' observed General Hua.

Li Muzhan replied, "It is." "In that case, perform it for me!" General Hua beckoned with a smile. ...Li Muzhan pondered for a moment, then slowly stepped off the cushion, approaching the General.

He hitched up the hem of his monk's robe, tying it securely at his waist—cleanly and efficiently—and began to execute the Lesser Dragon Form. General Hua stared intently at his movements, missing no detail, nodding continuously with an expression of admiration.

Every aspect of Li Muzhan’s execution was flawless, precise, and accurate; he had brought the Lesser Dragon Form to its zenith. General Hua felt that even his own practice of the Lesser Dragon Form could not surpass this.

To master the Lesser Dragon Form to this degree, his comprehension must be astonishing, and his intelligence even superior to his own. General Hua nodded internally: A rare talent indeed.

After fifteen minutes, Li Muzhan slowly concluded the Lesser Dragon Form, gathered his posture, and looked toward the General. General Hua remained silent, his eyes flashing with profound light.

A moment later, he raised his head, gazing deeply at Li Muzhan. "Mingkong, I wish to pass on the Great Dragon Form to you, but there is one obstacle." The Great Dragon Form was forbidden to anyone below General rank—an ironclad military rule that could not be broken.

Li Muzhan smiled warmly. "Thank you for the General's kind intention, but it is best left alone.

Military regulations must not be violated; forcing the issue is improper." General Hua pondered. For a man of such decisive nature to display such hesitation clearly indicated that the matter carried immense weight and required utmost seriousness.