Fortunately, the disciples of the Shenquan Sect each had their own small courtyard. When he returned to his courtyard, he hid inside and didn't venture out, nor did anyone visit him.

The disciple he was impersonating had a solitary, unlikable disposition, rarely interacting with the sect members and disliking outings; his entire focus was intensely dedicated to martial arts training, which was the only way he had managed to rise through the sect ranks.

The courtyard was average, quite spartan. Apart from the most basic furniture and decorations, it was almost empty, suggesting the owner had no hobbies other than ceaseless, monotonous practice.

This suited Li Muzhan perfectly. First, he sat on the couch, circulating his internal energy for a while, then he took out several jade pendants. He focused his concentration onto them, branding them with formation symbols using his spiritual essence.

This world differed from his original one, yet Li Muzhan found that his array formations were still applicable, perhaps because this reality was still a vacuum bound by the principles of metal, wood, water, fire, earth, and the interplay of Yin and Yang and the Five Elements.

In his previous world, formations were useless.

However, the formation symbols in this world were different from those he knew, comprising an entirely unfamiliar set of glyphs, though their power seemed comparable.

Having immersed himself in the Way of Formations for so long, deepening his comprehension of the cosmic principles, Li Muzhan’s mastery of formation arts had grown ever more profound.

Moreover, his spirit was stronger now. When crafting the formation symbols, he reached the high realm where spirit could be transformed into a symbol, though he was still a step short of the ultimate state—the transformation of the Void into a symbol.

Time trickled by slowly. Li Muzhan finished crafting eight jade talismans. The talismans flowed with an ethereal light, shining brilliantly, a manifestation of spiritual energy compressed to its absolute peak.

He suddenly vanished, reappearing moments later with a broad smile. It seemed the sect's protective formation had not been triggered. The Shenquan Sect was indeed arrogant, assuming no one would dare attempt a direct assault on their grounds.

His instantaneous movement—Shunyi—was completely unimpeded. Reassured, he first left to grab a bite to eat outside, then instantly teleported back. Afterward, he activated his Eye of the Void to observe the entire Shenquan Sect complex.

He possessed immense patience, observing for two full days. On the night of the third day, he suddenly materialized inside a grand hall. The hall was lined with towering bookshelves. He flickered to a low shelf, snatched two secret manuals, and vanished in a blink. He was back in his small courtyard.

A lamp was lit inside. He opened the two manuals, a smile spreading across his face. One was the Binghuo Shenquan (Ice Fire Divine Fist), and the other, the Hanshan Shenquan (Mountain Shaking Divine Fist).

The Tianji Jue combined with Shunyi was truly an infinite source of power. They moved in and out of the heavily guarded halls of the Fist Sect as if entering an empty room. He sensed four peak masters guarding the four corners, seated within the hall. Had he not had the protection of the Tianji Jue, vanishing into the void, even with Shunyi, he would not have escaped their detection.

At this level, their intuition was astonishing. In terms of the depth of internal energy and the richness of their cultivation, he was far inferior; their power felt as deep as an abyss or a vast sea.

He braced himself and tested the miracle of the Tianji Jue. He stole the manuals silently. Both were top-tier, treasures that formed the foundation of the sect.

He quickly devoured the contents of the manuals, imprinting them into his mind. Then, he vanished again, reappearing before the small shelf. He swept up the remaining two manuals, returned to the courtyard, and branded them into his memory: one was Juling Quan (Giant Spirit Fist), the other, Jiangmo Quan (Demon Subduing Fist).

He stood in the courtyard with his hands clasped behind his back, pacing under the moonlight.

There was one final foundational technique of the Shenquan Sect, named Hanshen Quan (Spirit Shaking Fist), an ultimate secret art capable of inflicting unseen harm, rumored to have been mastered by someone within the sect.

However, mastering the Hanshen Quan required accumulating power over vast stretches of time. Li Muzhan sensed that the person who had achieved mastery likely guarded this very technique.

His rationality urged him to give up; he couldn't defeat such an opponent. Yet, an eager, restless current surged within his heart—to meet this person, to witness this ultimate divine fist of the sect.

He paced a few steps, then abruptly stopped, standing motionless in thought. This time, he cast aside the Tianji Jue and ignored his intuition, seeking the truth of his own heart: should he go or not?

After a long pause, he sighed, then suddenly vanished. When he reappeared, he was already at the Fist Sect Hall.

The Fist Sect Hall was silent. Rows of bookshelves filled the hall. In the very center was a clearing, perhaps ten paces across. On the clearing sat a stone table, upon which rested a crimson wooden casket. It appeared dim and unremarkable.

Li Muzhan stood in the shadows, watching the small wooden box, knowing it contained the Hanshen Quan.

He could sense the four individuals on the second floor, seated in the four corners, unmoving as dead wood. They were simultaneously cultivating and guarding this place.

His Tianji Jue shielded him, allowing him to evade their perception, but he was certain that the moment he touched the central wooden box, they would know.

His Tianji Jue could protect himself, but not external objects. This box was constantly monitored by them; any subtle movement would fail to escape their eyes.

He pondered for a moment. The eight jade talismans slowly floated out, drifting toward the four cardinal directions. Instantly, shouts rang out: "Who is there?!"

Li Muzhan activated the formation, his figure flashing to the side of the stone table. He reached out and swept his hand across the box; it shattered, revealing the yellowed silk scrolls within, which he tucked into his robes and instantly disappeared.

"Bang!" "Bang!" "Bang!" "Bang!" dull thuds echoed, followed by furious roars. The four old men struck out with fists like mountains but could not shake the formation.

The formation Li Muzhan deployed was incredibly potent. Sadly, due to the limited time, it could not exert its full power immediately. The longer it remained, the denser the gathered spiritual energy of heaven and earth would become, and the stronger its force would grow.

"Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!" Violent collisions erupted incessantly. Finally, with a deep, muffled sound, the stone table crumbled to powder, and rows of bookshelves collapsed, exploding into pieces. More than half of the Fist Sect Hall was utterly destroyed.

The four elders in black robes stood back-to-back, motionless amidst the swirling debris. They took two steps, surveyed their surroundings, then turned to exchange glances, seeing the killing intent and rage in each other's eyes. They had never imagined such a day would come!

"Go!" The four glanced at the ruined Fist Sect Hall, their faces growing grim and dark. They transformed into four streaks of shadow, shooting out of the hall, heading directly toward the small courtyard where Li Muzhan was located.

But when they reached the courtyard, Li Muzhan was gone. They sped toward the outside of the sect. They could sense the location of the secret manuals, especially the elder who had practiced the Hanshen Quan.

The four descended the mountain in a flash, but halfway down, the leading elder suddenly stopped, his face looking extremely haggard, dark enough to drip water.

He wore black robes, was not tall, and a long scar covered half his face, making him look somewhat terrifying. His gaze was deep and unfathomable, impossible to look at directly.

"Damn it!" he roared in anger, slamming a palm downward. "Bang!" The ground exploded, and when the dust and sand settled, a pit deep enough for a man to stand in was revealed.

"What's wrong, Second Senior Brother?!" the three elders beside him asked.

"It's gone!" The scarred elder said darkly.

The faces of the other three elders changed instantly: "The manual is gone?!"

Seeing the scarred elder's expression, they knew they had guessed correctly, and their hearts sank. A round-faced elder quickly asked, "Can you not sense it anymore?"

"It was destroyed!" The scarred elder grit his teeth, his voice leaking out through the gaps.

"What!?" The three erupted in fury.

"It doesn't matter, Second Senior Brother, didn't you master it!" the round-faced elder offered.

The scarred elder shook his head: "I didn't master it; I'm still a layer short!"

"Then just rewrite a copy!" the round-faced elder suggested.

The scarred elder snorted angrily: "How can a rewritten copy compare to the original? I can't draw the diagrams exactly the same way!"

"Then what do we do?!" the round-faced elder exclaimed. "The manual is destroyed, and we can't chase him down. What do we do?"

"Ah..." The scarred elder threw his head back and roared toward the sky, gritting his teeth: "Let's go, back!"