Chapter 561: Two Breakthroughs
Li Er fed Chen Ping'an his last batch of punches this time, and it was very different.
Li Er told Chen Ping'an to go all out, to use any means necessary, and to try to see how long he could last under his fists.
Chen Ping'an was puzzled. He was at the bottleneck of the sixth realm of martial arts, while Li Er was at the tenth realm, the Return to Truth. Even if he used any means, what was the point?
Li Er laughed. "When I throw these punches, I'll be measured. I'll only interrupt the connections between your various techniques. Simply put, just keep attacking. Treat it like you're locked in a life-or-death battle with a mortal enemy. This opponent, relying on being far above you in realm, grows contemptuous and doesn't know your true foundation. He only sees you as a pure martial artist with decent potential, and his only plan is to drain your pure qi first, then slowly torture and kill you to vent his anger."
Chen Ping'an was even more confused. Was he implying that besides throwing punches, he could use any tricky, underhanded, or despicable methods?
Li Er didn't explain further. "Don't take it lightly. If I think you're daring to treat your mortal enemy with contempt, my last punch will have you coughing up blood in bed on Lion Peak for half a year."
Li Er turned and walked toward the ferry, leaving Chen Ping'an at the door of the thatched hut.
Li Er, holding a bamboo pole, stood at one end of the small boat and began to focus his breath. After half a stick's worth of incense had burned, Chen Ping'an walked toward the ferry.
Li Er glanced at him and couldn't help but smile.
The young man was barefoot, with his pant legs rolled up, but he hadn't rolled up his sleeves.
And he hadn't forgotten to carry that Immortal Sword from the Fu family of Old Dragon City on his back.
Li Er nodded. "Board the boat."
In an instant, Li Er's bamboo pole came chopping down from above. Chen Ping'an, who had already pinched an Inch-Long Talisman in his sleeve, vanished into thin air. He stepped on the stone wall of the Immortal Dwelling's waterway, used the momentum to bounce off, and after several back-and-forth moves, had already distanced himself far from that one boat, one man, and one bamboo pole.
When Chen Ping'an landed on the water, he crouched and skated backward on the surface, one hand pressing the water, stirring up ripples. With a sudden stop, the Soil Gathering Talisman on the two walls and the River-Crossing Talisman in the water exploded with a burst of talisman essence light. Chen Ping'an twisted his wrist slightly, and a short knife appeared in his right hand, engraved with the characters "Morning Dew." The other knife, "Evening Sunset," which hadn't yet appeared, both came from the assassins of Cut Deer Mountain.
The tip of the bamboo pole seemed to land but didn't actually touch the ground. The qi force not only failed to carve a trench in the earth but didn't even raise a speck of dust. This was the mastery of a martial grandmaster at the Stop Realm, whose fist intent could be deployed and retracted at will, reaching a state of complete freedom.
In front of the small boat, the water surged and gravel flew. A figure in a blue robe charged forward like the wind and lightning, in a straight line, holding a blade in each hand.
Li Er put away the bamboo pole, turned his head to look, and laughed. "Fancy and flashy, but it does scare people."
Li Er casually jabbed the bamboo pole somewhere. The small boat under his feet moved forward slowly. Chen Ping'an turned his head to dodge the bamboo pole, pinched an Inch-Long Talisman in his left sleeve, and flashed away.
Li Er loosened his grip on the bamboo pole, then tightened it again. Without turning around or even turning his head, he jabbed the pole backward. Chen Ping'an, who had appeared behind him, was hit square in the chest and slammed into the water with a loud crash. If Chen Ping'an hadn't twisted his body slightly, his blue robe would have only been torn, revealing a bloody gash and white bone. But Li Er, who had said he would be "contemptuous" and "measured," probably would have driven that bamboo pole straight through Chen Ping'an's chest.
The small boat under Li Er's feet continued forward slowly, not needing a pole to push it. As a pure martial artist of the tenth realm, what Li Er called "full of spirit and qi, a complete person," once he truly unleashed his vigor, Li Er could easily fill the entire waterway with his fist intent and qi force.
Li Er smiled. Well, well, so the kid had taken advantage of the terrain. He had actually used dozens of Water Talismans at once, exploding them simultaneously, barely enough to be called overturning rivers and seas.
Li Er gripped the bamboo pole gently. It hummed as the qi force vibrated heavily. With his one man and one boat continuing forward at a steady pace, not a drop of water came near them.
Li Er stomped his foot. A dull thunderclap sounded from the bottom of the water. Slightly surprised, Li Er stopped paying attention to Chen Ping'an beneath the water. He walked from the stern to the bow, glanced at a wall in the distance, and shot his boat forward like an arrow. He smashed the bamboo pole down.
The Yin Spirit, which had silently left Chen Ping'an's body for a distant journey, had long since hidden itself on the wall using a Ghost-Fu Palace Tortoise-Stele Talisman. All the previous moves were just distractions.
But Li Er still saw through it easily.
The Yin Spirit had no choice but to dodge the heavy bamboo pole. This movement revealed its true form: a young man in white with a folding fan at his waist. Even though he fled in a sorry state, he still wore a smile. His form was ethereal, like a mountain immortal. As he left the wall, Chen Ping'an's Yin Spirit formed a sword finger, and a white sword light shot out from between his brows. It was the flying sword Chuyi, which hadn't yet been completely refined into his life-bound object. Although it wasn't a sword cultivator's life-bound sword, after being honed along the way with the Dragon-Beheading Platform, it appeared in the world with a powerful aura.
Li Er's previous bamboo pole still hadn't touched the stone wall. He bent his arm slightly, retracted the pole, and struck the flying sword Chuyi, making it buzz and tremble before crashing into the wall. An ordinary bamboo pole, merely infused with his flowing fist intent, was completely unharmed.
Li Er laughed. "More?"
A sharp flying sword, bearing an Immortal Sword aura, stabbed at Li Er's back from behind.
Li Er didn't care at all. His abundant fist intent protected him like a divine spirit, the most indestructible armor in the world clinging to his body.
Li Er let out a surprised sound. "Just a copy of a sword from Hatred Sword Mountain?"
Because that fierce flying sword was easily deflected by his fist intent.
The third, fastest flying sword shot straight toward the back of Li Er's head.
At the same time, the first flying sword, its light like a white rainbow, tried to close in and entangle him again.
Li Er felt a bit helpless. "This is getting annoying."
Li Er released the bamboo pole, flashed away, and in the next moment, he had three flying swords clutched in his hand, with brilliant sparks spraying from his palm.
When Li Er returned to the small boat, the bamboo pole seemed to be suspended in midair, not falling at all. It was simply because Li Er's departure and return were too fast.
Li Er trapped the three flying swords with one hand, pressed the palm of his other hand against one end of the bamboo pole, and pushed hard. The small boat under his feet swayed slightly.
The bamboo pole tilted slightly as it flew, piercing straight through Chen Ping'an's abdomen and nailing him to the bottom of the water. The pole's momentum was astonishing; it not only pinned Chen Ping'an's back against the waterbed but continued through his abdomen.
Li Er struck viciously.
Chen Ping'an's response was even more ferocious.
He slammed his hand hard against the waterbed, pulling himself off the bamboo pole as if extracting himself from it. Using the Inch-Long Talisman, he vanished in an instant.
Li Er smiled. He didn't hit a man when he was down. After all, he was supposed to maintain a contemptuous attitude.
Chen Ping'an had one good quality: he didn't know pain, or rather, he could make steady moves until he was dead.
Some so-called martial arts prodigies fought harder the more they were injured. But they inevitably had some aftereffects, either after a great battle or during it, trading fist intent for combat power. If both sides were of equal realm, such a person could certainly survive to the end, because a pure martial artist couldn't only have the courage of hot blood and the anger of a common man. But without any of that, he shouldn't walk the martial path. However, once the gap in realms between the two sides widened a little, such behavior had both advantages and disadvantages. Perhaps the best outcome was to successfully trade lives with a stronger opponent.
Martial combat might seem tedious—exchanging wounds and deciding life and death with limited moves—but in reality, there was mystery everywhere, and every punch had meaning.
Especially after stepping into the tenth realm, the sky was high and the earth was vast, with great wonders and endless scenery.
Song Changjing was ambitious and had a grand vision. For the purity of martial arts, he could abandon his kingdom and his dragon throne. His obsession was far heavier than that of ordinary grandmasters. The purpose of his punches was to make those mountain-top immortals come down from their peaks and kowtow to him, Song Changjing.
Thus, his qi was vigorous.
Li Er admitted that he had indeed fallen short of Song Changjing in this respect.
After a pure martial artist reached the summit, no matter how many types of fists or different martial gallbladders there were, there were generally only two paths. One path was like opening a blessed land: one's fist intent was vast, boundless, and expansive, where those with vigorous qi reigned supreme. The other path was like an immortal opening a cave heaven: it was easier to return to truth. If there was no path on the ground, one continued to rise through the air. It wasn't that Li Er didn't want to walk the path of vigorous qi for longer, but it was due to his own nature. His fist intent was pure enough. If he deliberately tried to refine the concept of "vigorous qi," the benefits wouldn't be great, so it was better to just directly step into Return to Truth.
Earlier, when drinking and chatting with Chen Ping'an, Li Er heard that there was an interesting fellow on Fallen Mountain named Zhu Lian, nicknamed the Martial Maniac. When fighting, he always decided life or death, but in daily life, he was as carefree as an immortal.
Chen Ping'an had many thoughts and complicated ideas, seldom making assertive statements. But when mentioning Zhu Lian, he said that Zhu Lian was the pure martial artist least likely to go mad.
Li Er felt that Zhu Lian must be a once-in-a-generation genius.
A genius in the eyes of a tenth-realm martial artist.
If there was a chance in the future, he would like to meet Zhu Lian.
Li Er put away his bamboo pole, casually tossed aside the three flying swords, and continued punting the boat slowly.
He had been a bit heavy-handed earlier. This simple man felt a slight pang of guilt. Then, dealing with the elusive and crafty Chen Ping'an, he deliberately held back a bit. One of his punches only sent Chen Ping'an embedded into the stone wall, without changing the bamboo pole's position to pierce through the other's guts. Not only that, but he continued moving the boat forward, leaving the young man, who could surely keep attacking, behind, letting him recover a breath of pure qi.
Li Er had always believed that martial arts didn't have too many tricks. Diligently tempering the body was just about enduring hardship.
It was similar to a farmer tending his fields. But the farmer's harvest depended on the heavens, while a martial artist's progress depended entirely on himself.
Li Er turned to look and saw a strange sight.
Chen Ping'an had put on a Gold Nectar Dharma Robe and then a Hundred-Eyed Taotie black Dharma Robe. Not stopping there, he even put on the Snowflake Dharma Robe from the Funi City ghost creature and the gaudy dharma robe from the Colorful Sparrow Manor. It was a good thing that after minor refining, dharma robes could change slightly according to the cultivator's will. But with a single blue robe plus these four dharma robes, could he not look bloated? No matter how he looked at it, Li Er felt it was awkward. Especially the outermost one, which was clearly a woman's garment. Chen Ping'an, aren't you going a bit too far?
Still, this choice wasn't wrong.
If he had put on the dharma robes from the start, given Chen Ping'an's current martial realm, it would have hindered the flow of his fist intent. He might have been a fraction slower, and that could have meant the difference between life and death.
Now that he was heavily injured, it was a different matter.
After all, he could withstand one or two more punches.
Li Er stopped the boat beside the water mirror and stepped onto the lake's mirrored surface, bamboo pole in hand.
Li Er looked toward the entrance of the cave's waterway.
There was some movement.
In the distance, Chen Ping'an stood on the water with the sword on his back. He had no water-repelling divine ability and used no immortal water techniques. His feet didn't move, yet he still advanced slowly.
Li Er looked at Chen Ping'an's feet.
After a moment, Chen Ping'an suddenly rose upward.
Beneath his feet was a colossal green creature—a flood dragon.
This water dragon was an authentic cultivator's water technique. On the flood dragon's body, a Snow-Mud Talisman served as the base, and over a hundred Great River-Crossing Talismans formed its skeleton, tightly connected. It seemed he had also used a bit of something as the talisman essence core of this peculiar yet spectacular "talisman." It was precisely the two high-level refining techniques that Fire Dragon Master had told Chen Ping'an to study more: the technique for refining the Three Mountains and the Immortal Technique of the Immortal Prayer for Rain Stele from the Azure Tour Palace. These shouldn't just be used as refining tools. Hence, at this moment, the flood dragon's spine was like two ropes twisting around each other, becoming tighter and tougher. One was the method of refining mountains, and the other was the method of refining water. Then, using the true meaning of the Grand Dragon Fist Frame's stance as the finishing touch, the young man's flood dragon beneath his feet faintly took on the immortal aura of accumulating earth to form a mountain, from which wind and rain arose.
Think and ponder everything in the world.
And thus, Chen Ping'an finally created this colossal creature.
Chen Ping'an habitually held a short knife in his right hand.
But in truth, he was left-handed.
The flood dragon beneath his feet charged toward Li Er on the water mirror, kicking up towering waves wherever it went.
Li Er twitched the corner of his mouth, lightly touching the ground with the tail end of his bamboo pole. "Fancy frames won't get things done."
Li Er gently leaped up, swung the bamboo pole, and slammed it heavily to the ground. Even though the flood dragon was still dozens of feet away from the water mirror, churning up huge waves, the qi force cut it in two. It continued forward only on sheer momentum.
Li Er swept his bamboo pole horizontally. Chen Ping'an, who had appeared to Li Er's left side, suddenly ducked. His body seemed about to fall, but he twisted in midair to dodge the sweeping bamboo pole, which carried the force of wind and thunder. Facing the bamboo pole that flashed past in an instant, Chen Ping'an flipped his wide sleeves. Three flying swords shot out from three acupoints. With a hasty stomp, he thrust his right-hand short knife toward Li Er's heart, while the second short knife slid silently out of his left sleeve.
Li Er didn't even look at the three flying swords. He kicked Chen Ping'an square in the chest. The latter slid backward for over ten zhang, his knees slightly bent and his toes digging into the ground to increase friction, preventing him from losing his grip on the two short knives.
He gave a slight shake of his shoulders, suddenly steadied himself, and forcibly expelled the remnants of Li Er's fist qi from his chest.
That's what it meant to wear four dharma robes.
Li Er said, "I told you before, only martial arts with fancy, flashy moves would think of using a mess of punches to beat the old master. An old master doesn't even need to block or parry—just one move."
Li Er casually tossed his bamboo pole, which embedded itself an inch or so into the mirror surface.
That somewhat interesting flood dragon had just reformed on the mirror's surface. With the bamboo pole's jab, it fell apart again into water. Many of the talismans, already cracked, completely disintegrated into powder.
Chen Ping'an began to shift his stance.
Li Er adjusted his trajectory slightly, still appearing right in front of Chen Ping'an. A knee strike sent the latter flying into the air. Li Er seemed to walk slowly, coming alongside Chen Ping'an. He delivered a punch that sent Chen Ping'an, whose qi had stagnated and whose dharma robes were cracking and tearing, tumbling dozens of feet into the lake. Like a skipping stone, he slid another seven or eight zhang across the water's surface.
Li Er began to sprint. Each step he took crushed the spiritual energy of the lake water beneath him, heading straight for where Chen Ping'an had sunk.
With a sudden horizontal shift, Li Er drove his shoulder into the chest of Chen Ping'an, who had used an Inch-Long Talisman.
Chen Ping'an felt as if a hammer had struck his heart. His Yin Spirit left his body for a distant journey, executing a naturally strange fist technique. It seemed to trace arcs slowly, each arc giving birth to the next, nearly forming a circle. The movements were dazzling and directly helped Chen Ping'an dissipate most of the fist qi. By the time Chen Ping'an steadied himself, the Yin Spirit had returned to his body, all in one smooth motion.
Li Er didn't pursue. He nodded. That's right.
Otherwise, if one practiced both martial arts and Dao, but let Dao cultivation hinder the ascent of his martial arts, causing constant conflict, it would only lead to trouble and harm.
This time, Li Er's purpose in feeding Chen Ping'an punches was to make him find that elusive point of balance. A martial artist shouldn't be led by his fist stance or intent. Since he was already a Qi practitioner, he shouldn't think in his heart that his fist intent was therefore impure. A martial artist could rely on his fists alone, but that didn't mean he ignored everything else. A true grandmaster should have the grand bearing of "all methods in the body, all issuing from my hands."
The human body is a small heaven and earth; I am the Heavenly Lord.
What can't I control? What can't I manage?
Since Chen Ping'an had already taken the first step in the right direction,
Li Er could now relax and throw his punches.
The punches weren't heavy, but they were faster.
They didn't give Chen Ping'an a moment to form a thought.
We martial artists. We martial artists. When you spar with me, Li Er, and polish your great path, then boy, you have to bring out something no other martial artist in the world has!
If you have it,
you'll eat more punches.
If you don't,
lie down and nurse your wounds!
At the ferry, Li Liu walked along the waterway, looking at the signs of the fight. As for the commotion at the water mirror, she didn't need to look—she knew it clearly.
In her long past, Li Liu was no stranger to pure martial artists. She had died at the hands of a tenth-realm martial artist and had also killed tenth-realm martial artists with her own hands. She knew a lot about the training methods of martial artists. She couldn't say how remarkable Chen Ping'an's current tempering was in the history of the Haoran World, but a martial artist of the sixth realm who had eaten so many substantial punches this early was truly rare.
In the world, ninth-realm Peak and tenth-realm Stop Realm martial artists like Gu You, who didn't take on formal disciples, were ultimately few.
And martial grandmasters who tempered their disciples' bodies like his father did were not uncommon. But unfortunately, the disciples had to be able to withstand it. Some couldn't endure physically, some lacked the right temperament, and of course, more often than not, they lacked both. Even if a senior master was willing to support or even drag them along, they couldn't enter the hall, couldn't cross the threshold. Some seemed to break through, but in truth, the feeder of punches had lost the proper method. The disciple got past the threshold but was like having a broken arm or a missing leg. The heart-mirror developed a subtle, undetectable flaw, so by the time they reached the eighth or ninth realm, all kinds of hidden problems would inevitably surface.
Li Liu reached the end of the cave's waterway. She didn't continue forward but turned around and began to stroll back.
At the ferry, on the edge of the mountain-water restriction of this Immortal Dwelling, Li Liu looked at the distant scenery beyond Lion Peak.
Li Liu vaguely sensed a strange phenomenon.
She raised her eyes to the sky.
The seventy-two Confucian saints enshrined in the Wen Temple had been the most pitiful existences trapped in their own cages since ancient times.
Neither alive nor dead, bound by endless rules, year after year watching the mortal world, absolutely forbidden from freely meddling in worldly affairs.
In one of her past lives, Li Liu had been on the Northwest Continent, an immortal of the peak of the Immortal Realm and the head of a sect. On the sky cover of the Flowing Sunset Continent, she had exchanged a few words with a Confucian sage who stood guard over half a continent's skies.
In the eyes of these saints, who drifted like boats in the void yet remained motionless, it was like ordinary people standing on a mountain peak looking down at the rivers and mountains below. Even for them, their vision was ultimately limited; they couldn't see the picture clearly. But if they activated the ancient divine ability of "viewing mountains and rivers in the palm," they could see every minute detail—the inscription on a merchant's jade pendant in the marketplace, or a single white hair among a woman's black tresses.
But to use such a divine ability to watch the mortal world for a thousand years, and then another thousand years, eventually the day came when they grew tired of it.
Moreover, their duty was to monitor the cultivation sites of those Ascension Realm cultivators and the Upper Five Realm cultivators, to ensure they were accounted for, lest these cultivators use their arts with abandon and harm the mortal world.
If a cultivator in a cave heaven or blessed land left his small world, it was like a conspicuously bright lamp being lit. Even an ordinary man on a peak could see it. Naturally, the sage guarding the sky cover would immediately pay attention and watch closely. If there was any transgression or impropriety, the sage would intervene. If everything followed the rules, there was no need for them to appear.
At that time, the Confucian sage who had spoken a few words with Li Liu finally laughed, saying that his greatest distraction was to go, every ten years or so, to look at a village covenant stele at the head of a village in some kingdom, some province, some prefecture, and see the subtle changes on that stone stele after ten years of wind and sun, rain and snow—changes that no one in the world cared about.
Li Liu had nothing to say.
The sages were lonely.
The mortal world never knew.
About an hour later, Li Liu, who had been wandering thousands of miles in spirit, withdrew her thoughts and looked back with a smile.
Someone was punting back. It was a somewhat miserable Chen Ping'an.
Li Er sat on the small boat and said, "You have to hold this breath. You must endure until that martial destiny reaches Lion Peak. Otherwise, you won't be able to do that thing."
Chen Ping'an nodded.
Li Er asked, "Don't you regret it? Li Liu might know some strange methods to hold it back for a while."
Chen Ping'an shook his head. "No. The Foothill Mountain Fist was created by Senior Gu You of Northern Ju Lu Continent. During my travels, he taught me three punches. Even in death, he wanted to bestow his martial destiny on me. So I don't regret it."
Li Er said nothing more.
With the boat and two people arriving at the ferry, Li Liu smiled and said, "Congratulations, Mr. Chen. You've made breakthroughs in both martial arts and Dao cultivation."
Chen Ping'an grinned. He had been deliberately suppressing his true qi and spiritual energy. With this slight movement, he immediately lost control, and his face was once again covered in blood.
Chen Ping'an passed through the mountain-water restriction at the entrance of the Immortal Dwelling, gently clenched his fist, and looked up.
Above Lion Peak, under a clear sky, a golden sea of clouds suddenly gathered. Then a sweet rain fell from the heavens, thread by thread, extremely slow.
Chen Ping'an said softly, "Chuyi, Shiwu."
Two flying swords shot out, flashed away, and stopped in midair before Chen Ping'an, like two steps.
A blue-robed figure carrying an Immortal Sword began to run upward, stepping on the two flying swords as steps, climbing to the sky step by step.
When he was still several dozen zhang away from the golden sea of clouds and the martial destiny sweet rain, he suddenly stopped. His entire body's fist intent surged and flowed like a god in heaven. He threw a punch upward with the Cloud-Vapor Great Marsh Style.
With that one punch, he repelled the martial destiny clouds and the sweet rain, scattering them across Northern Ju Lu Continent.
Exhausted, Chen Ping'an took a deep breath, wiped the sweat from his forehead, bent over to catch his breath, and his vision was blurry. Still, he turned his head toward the south and said with a soft laugh, "Senior Gu, I didn't dare tell you back then. There's someone in the bamboo tower in my hometown who said that our Foothill Mountain Fist is all earthy and unremarkable. Only the foundation of its fist intent is barely passable. That punch I just threw is the one he taught me. Senior Gu, rest assured. I wasn't convinced back then. When I get back home this time, I'm definitely going to have a good argument with him. Now that I'm at the Golden Body Realm, I can take a few more punches and get a few more words in."