"Take off your clothes!"
The wooden stick in Wu Zhu's hand struck Fan Xian's head with a loud bang.
At that moment, the zhenqi in Fan Xian's forehead was rushing toward the ceiling. He could vaguely see a bright light in his spiritual sense, especially the top of his head, which had turned into a rainbow color. But it was a bit sticky, and he couldn't see it clearly. A wave of annoyance spread out from the blockage, making Fan Xian very vexed and depressed. He could only raise his head to the sky, wanting to feel better.
At that moment, the zhenqi in front of his forehead was struck by Wu Zhu's stick.
The rod struck his body, but it was more like striking the depths of his soul, making his mind explode. It was as if the dark clouds in the sky above his head were split apart by a bolt of lightning, and the clear and beautiful sunlight sprinkled down just like that.
"Take off your clothes!"
This was a passage from the Five Classics of Qing, the Old Sayings. It was said that one of the four great grandmasters of the present day, Ku He's great grandmaster, Gen Chen, had once been taught by Meng Tian. When he was enlightened, he shouted that the human body was like a sweatshirt. Only by taking it off could one achieve great things.
And in the books that Fan Xian had read in his previous life, Buddhism also spoke of the Way of Discipline. Zen Master Qingyuan once said, "Only when the sweatshirt is taken off will one know the Way of Discipline be foolishness."
So when Fan Xian heard Wu Zhu's words, he understood what it meant. The passage above his head had been cleared, and the sky was shining down. His mind was clear again, and he focused on his internal organs. He treated all the pain in his meridians as if it were inflicted by the heavens and others, and had nothing to do with him.
To let go of all the attachments in life, to let go of all the sensations in the body, was just the right state of mind for the final stage of the Scroll of Domination.
The Qi of the heavens and the earth could not be contained by a single person's body. Only by abandoning one's own body and connecting oneself with the Qi of the heavens and the earth, becoming a part of nature could one draw upon such violent and untamable zhenqi.
The zhenqi in Fan Xian's body gradually calmed down. The passage above his head had been opened, and the gentle but vigorous zhenqi flowed through it, then flowed down the pillar behind him, directly into the snow-capped mountain.
What was even more amazing was that the snowy mountain, which had always been as calm as the sea, had undergone some small changes today. Some vital energy began to seep out and replenish his Dantian.
In this way, the circulation of vital energy in his body was finally unobstructed, forming a perfect circular channel that faintly resonated with the external environment.
…
…
After a long time, Fan Xian woke up in a daze. A puddle of dirty water had long since seeped out of his body. It was black and smelly. He looked at Wu Zhu, who still had a cold expression on his face, and gave a weak smile. He smiled bitterly and said, "Thank you, uncle. It's just that … your blow was really vicious."
At this moment, although his body felt weak, his spirit was very vigorous. He closed his eyes to examine the condition of his body and familiarize himself with the new flow of his True Qi. He felt that although the originally violent True Qi was still strong, it was clearly not as dry as before. It circulated more freely and freely.
Fan Xian sighed. He had never imagined that he would finally be able to practice zhenqi, which he had only seen in wuxia novels in his previous life. An indescribable feeling filled his mind, and he subconsciously slapped his right hand to the side.
There was a muffled sound, like a rag being cut open by a red-hot iron wire.
A shallow palm print appeared on the ground, the edges very smooth!
Fan Xian raised his right hand and looked at it, then lowered his head to look at the palm print on the stone. He measured its size, confirming that he had casually slapped it. After staring blankly for a long time, he finally came to his senses and sighed. "It really is amazing."
"Zhenqi overflowed. It will be fine in a moment," Wu Zhu said beside him.
"Uncle, didn't you say that you had never practiced zhenqi before, so you didn't know how to teach me?"
"I've seen others practice it, so I know what to do today."
"So you've never eaten pork, but you've seen pigs run."
Fan Xian suddenly felt like he was scolding himself. He smiled and continued. "That was really dangerous. If it weren't for that blow, I'm afraid I would have become a vegetable again."
"What is a vegetable?" Wu Zhu asked calmly.
Fan Xian looked up at the sky, his mind wandering, ignoring him.
He immediately realized that the blind Wu Zhu was also an empiricist. Then... what if that blow didn't knock him out, and instead knocked him unconscious? The violent zhenqi in his body would run amok, turning his internal organs into a mess...
Shuddering, he shook off this incomparably terrifying association. Looking at the vast sea in front of him, his heart felt at ease. Now that he had achieved the first stage of his cultivation method, he was secretly excited and finally got rid of the gloomy mood from the assassination incident a few days ago.
These past few days, Fan Xian had not understood why the assassin would actually use poison. When Fei Jie came to teach him how to recognize and detoxify poisons, did he really know that this day would come? That was a little too far-sighted and far-sighted. Also, that second aunt was too daring. Even if she had the support of some noble family in the capital, using the method of poisoning was equivalent to saying that she did not care about grandmother's life — that old woman was the Emperor's wet nurse.
Did his father in the capital not notice this at all?
As he pondered these questions, he heard a song coming from the cliff in the distance.
This cliff was close to the sea, far away from Danzhou. Behind the cliff was a barren land, and in front of the cliff was a forest of rocks. Fishing boats could not get close, so it was very quiet. It was for this reason that Wu Zhu chose to teach Fan Xian a killing technique. So hearing the song today, Fan Xian could not help but feel puzzled.
Although he was nervous, he did not lose his composure. Carefully lying on the cliff, separated by a rock, he looked in the direction of the song.
As far as his eyes could see, in the raging waves, a small boat was traveling among the black rocks. The black rocks were faintly discernible in the white foam, and the boat swayed leisurely among them. It looked as if it could crash into the rocks at any moment and break into pieces.
But just like that, the small boat was able to move forward with ease.
There was a man sitting on the boat, wearing a bamboo hat. The song came from his mouth. "The waves only bloom for a moment, but they are no different from rocks that have lived for thousands of years. The same goes for the flowing clouds."
The song was gentle, but it could be clearly heard above the roar of the waves.
Hearing this song, Fan Xian thought of the famous line from his previous life, Sadanori Matsunaga, praising the morning glory: "The morning light only bloom for a quarter of an hour, but they are no different from a pine tree that has lived for thousands of years." He felt that the person on the boat was very elegant, but also unfathomable.
As he was thinking, he heard Wu Zhu's cold voice. "Hide."
Fan Xian unconsciously hid his body behind the rock. He felt a black shadow flash past him, and then he watched in horror as Wu Zhu jumped off the cliff, which was hundreds of feet high.
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