Dongyi.
At the foot of the hill outside the city, the wretched yellow grass hut was as quiet as before. There was no sword light, sword wind, or the sound of swords slicing through the air. There was only silence. It was already late spring and close to summer. The blazing sun shone on the ocean to the east of the land, raising endless amounts of water vapor. It plunged all of Dongyi into a humid heat. Fortunately, the sea breeze never stopped, so it could slightly relieve the boredom.
Ever since the battle at Dong Mountain three years ago, the disciples of the Sword Hut had moved their practice area outside. No one dared to disturb the sword saint's recovery in the depths of the Hut. That was why the Hut appeared so quiet. The invisible water vapor that filled the air grew colder as the sun sank. It sank toward the ground and slowly attached itself to the scraps of swords and metal, forming a few water droplets.
The setting sun gradually set. A faint red light shone into the depths of the Sword Hut and into the large pit. It clearly reflected the water droplets on the countless swords. They seeped into the blood-red color, making it look like blood.
A few black flies flew in from somewhere and curiously circled the sword pit, making a disgusting buzzing sound. These creatures didn't know what kind of position and reputation this pit, the swords in it, represented. They only instinctively stared at the red water droplets on the swords. They were incomparably confused. Why didn't this blood have a hint of a pleasant fishy smell?
The weather was hot, so the natural icy fiendish aura in the sword grave was much fainter. That was why these black flies had enough courage to fly around. However, in the dark room next to the sword grave, there was an icy coldness that was completely different from the outside environment. Perhaps it was because the room had not seen light for a long time, or perhaps it was because the Great Grandmaster lying on the bed was gradually approaching death, giving off a heart-palpitating coldness.
There were no black flies, spiders, or webs in the room. No mosquito dared to bite the person wrapped in the thick blankets. In a corner of the snow-white wall, there was a long-legged mosquito about the size of a fingernail staring fixedly at the person it had bitten.
The long-legged mosquito was shivering, its transparent wings stroking its withered body from time to time, reminding itself that it was still alive. Its two long legs also seemed particularly weak, and its whole body was suffused with an unhealthy brownish yellow color, as if it was about to turn into a shell.
It didn't fly away because it didn't find anyone in the hut that it could suck blood from. The people in the hut seemed to have some strange magic power. As long as it got close to them, it would be repelled by an invisible barrier and killed.
Only the dying man on the bed didn't have that kind of ability, but the long-legged mosquito still didn't dare to fly down because it felt a chill coming from the dying man. In this hot day, it was so cold that it almost couldn't bear it.
But it was still enduring, because it knew that the person was about to die. No matter how powerful a person was, as long as he died, he would turn into blood and rotten flesh. It needed blood, and the black fly brothers outside needed rotten flesh.
…
…
Under the thick blankets, Sigu Jian's entire body was icy cold. He trembled endlessly. Each tremble brought with it a tearing pain from the wound in his chest. Three years ago, he had been struck by the Qing Emperor's fist and one of his arms had been torn off by Ye Liuyun. A month ago, he had been stabbed twice in the chest by the Shadow. Even though the poison Fei Jie had planted had already frozen all of his wounds, there was no longer any sign of life.
Logically speaking, he should have died a long time ago, but he didn't die. He only opened his eyes and stared woodenly at the snow-white wall in the room and the long-legged mosquito in the corner. He watched as the mosquito trembled and suffered, waiting for the mosquito to not be able to endure it and fall off the wall.
The emotions in the Great Grandmaster's eyes were indifferent and calm. It was as if he had long seen through everything in the world, including the last part of life, the great fear between life and death.
There was not a sliver of the ruthless killing intent from when he had killed 100 Tiger Guards, nor was there a sliver of the bloody sword intent from when he had massacred the manor. There was also not a sliver of the soaring, unyielding fighting spirit. There wasn't even the interest from many years ago when he watched the ants move under the tree. There was only calmness and the shadow of the withered, yellow-brown, trembling long-legged mosquito.
Sigu Jian, on the verge of death, refused to die because he was waiting for someone.
The room door was gently pushed open. The slightly warm twilight outside seeped in and cast the young man's long shadow on the ground.
Sigu Jian did not waste the last of his life. He glanced at him and didn't open his mouth to say anything. He knew that since the other party had rushed back, he would tell him some things he wanted to hear.
…
…
Fan Xian left Jingdou and turned toward Weizhou. He then stealthily made his way to Ten Family Village. After traveling arduously for several days, he finally met up with the Overwatch Council group outside Dongyi. He didn't waste any time and rushed to the Sword Hut. Under Yun Zhilan's somewhat indifferent gaze, he pushed open the door and entered. He pushed open the door and entered again. He passed through three layers of doors and came to Sigu Jian's side with the sound of hurried footsteps.
He looked at Sigu Jian's head, which was exposed outside the thick quilt. Only then did he realize that this sword saint Great Grandmaster's body was indeed very thin and weak. Even with three layers of quilts, it was still a very small section. Thus, his head appeared to be particularly large.
Even at this stage, Sigu Jian was still not dead. This reality made Fan Xian feel secretly shocked. He looked at the old and cold face and said, "If the shape of the pool is not destroyed, one should draw in the spring water to fill one's body …"
He didn't say anything about the Qing Emperor's edict. He didn't discuss Dongyi's future. He didn't speak of the secret in his heart. In the first instant, Fan Xian recited the Nameless Martial Secret he had cultivated since he was young clearly and generously, sentence by sentence.
The Nameless Martial Secret was divided into two volumes. Fan Xian had only cultivated the first volume in over 20 years of his life. Although he knew the second volume by heart, he hadn't made any progress. It was as if these words were carved into his mind and would not fade. It only took him a few breaths to recite them in front of Sigu Jian's bed.
He didn't have to worry about whether or not Sigu Jian could understand or remember. Even if he was about to die, he was still a Great Grandmaster.
Following Fan Xian's words, Sigu Jian's gaze gradually moved away from the mosquito in the corner of the wall. No one knew where he was staring at. His indifferent gaze became sharp and focused like a sword. The body of the sword gradually glowed, shining, and burning.
Fan Xian's lips closed. He then waited silently and quietly to the side.
Without needing him to open his mouth to explain, Sigu Jian could tell from these exquisite sentences and the strange and unusually crude method of circulating qi that the Heart he was reciting was the Qing Emperor's Tyrannical true secret.
Sigu Jian's eyes gradually grew brighter as Fan Xian recited. As Fan Xian closed his mouth, they dimmed.
"How do I cultivate the second half?" Fan Xian asked respectfully with his head lowered.
"I cannot." Sigu Jian's voice was very weak and raspy, but his answer was very determined.
Fan Xian was not disappointed. He continued to calmly ask, "But, the Emperor cultivated the second half. It is the Way of the King."
"The pinnacle of the Tyrannical Way is the Way of the King?" Perhaps it was because he had finally learned the secret of the Qing Emperor's martial method before he died, but Sigu Jian's spirit was much better than before. His voice gradually became smoother. With slight mockery, he said, "The Tyrannical at the peak is still the Tyrannical. Did your Emperor really think there could be any substantial change?"
"Reality has already proven this," Fan Xian said with his head lowered. Fan Xian lowered his head and said, "The Emperor has fixed the second half of the scroll. I want to know how he did it and if it will affect him in any way."
Sigu Jian sank into silence. A slight doubt gradually appeared in his light gaze. In the end, it immediately turned into a smile of understanding. In a quiet voice, he said, "The Meridians of the physical body will always have a limit. Even for a little strange creature like you, there will always be a limit."
"That is why, under the tree and in the manor of the Master of the City, you taught me that I should put my heart first. A person's physical body will always have a limit, but the heart and will have no limit," Fan Xian continued.
"Tyrannical …" Sigu Jian coughed. His icy body trembled under the blankets. No one knew better than this Great Grandmaster that no matter how extraordinary a person was, once their vitality was broken and their physical body was destroyed, they were no different from a normal person.
"If one can truly surpass the limits of the human body …" Sigu Jian slowly closed his eyes and began to play out the scenes on Dong Mountain in his mind.
The rain fell on the mountaintop. That finger broke through the rain and landed between Ku He's brows. In an instant, half the lake's water went in and forcefully burst through Imperial Advisor Ku He's sea of qi.
It was that finger.
Sigu Jian abruptly opened his eyes. His pupils rapidly constricted. In the end, they shrank to a small black dot like the tip of a sword. In a very slow voice, he said, "One finger to move half the lake. No one can move vital energy so quickly because, at the end of the cultivation of the Meridians of the human body, no matter how broad, there are still limits."
Fan Xian had not been on the mountain at the time and didn't know what Sigu Jian was thinking. He didn't quite understand these words. He thought to himself that every person who practiced martial arts and raised their realm revolved around reality and power. The power was the so-called skill. Now, he had to add the "heart" that Sigu Jian had taught him. However, reality was a person's true cultivation. Regardless of whether it was a normal cultivator's sea of qi and dantian, his own two circulations, or the snowy mountains behind his back, one had to have a foundation and then follow the Meridians to move.
The human body had Meridians, so it had to be limited by them. He felt that Sigu Jian's words were nonsense. However, Fan Xian gradually realized what Sigu Jian was saying. His expression changed slightly.
Complicated emotions seeped out of Sigu Jian's cold and serene eyes. In the end, these emotions became a thick sense of mockery. Coupled with the slight wrinkle that he had forced out with difficulty at the corner of his mouth, it appeared harsh and disdainful.
A low and strange laugh rang out from Sigu Jian's dry lips. It was particularly ear-piercing. No one knew if he was laughing at the Qing Emperor, himself, or Fan Xian's overestimation of his own abilities to want to learn the latter half of the Nameless Martial Secret.
He looked at Fan Xian calmly and said each word clearly, "There are no Meridians in the Qing Emperor's body."
…
…
Although Fan Xian had already guessed a little from Sigu Jian's words earlier, hearing these words abruptly, it was still like his mind had been struck by lightning. His mind buzzed with shock and confusion. The Emperor had no Meridians in his body? But, how could someone without Meridians survive?
"The latter half of the scroll still walks the path of the Tyrannical Way. If you continue to practice it, your Meridians will explode and you will die. Even if you're lucky, you can only become a cripple for life." Sigu Jian looked at Fan Xian and coldly said, "If you don't explode your Meridians, it is impossible for you to do the methods in the second half of the scroll. Those directions are not normal. Even if you practice for another 50 years, it will be useless."
Fan Xian took a few deep breaths and forcefully suppressed the shock in his heart. He knew that Sigu Jian's analysis was correct. A few years ago, he had already practiced the Tyrannical zhenqi to the peak. At that time, he had already stepped into the doorstep of the ninth-level and was in high spirits. Outside the Jingdou government yamen, he had broken Xie Bi 'an's sword with his fist. Unexpectedly, it had caused the zhenqi in his body to explode and injure his Meridians.
He had painstakingly healed his injuries. In the end, after the Hanging Temple, during a pursuit and the Shadow's desire to kill, the hidden danger in his body exploded again. In the end, he was stabbed by the Shadow and seriously injured.
Fan Xian had encountered the hidden danger of practicing the Tyrannical martial method twice. More accurately speaking, when he was still a child, Teacher Fei Jie had already sensed the great danger he would inevitably encounter in the future. That was why he had left him that large red pill.
In the end, the large red pill had been sent into the empress dowager's mouth. Fan Xian knew it was only because he was lucky that he had survived after his zhenqi had broken the limit twice and his Meridians had been greatly damaged.
He had relied on Begonia Duoduo's life-saving grace and Northern Qi's Tianyi Dao's secret natural martial method. In Jiangnan, he had used Tianyi Dao's natural zhenqi to repair for a long time before he had healed the damage to his Meridians. It was not until the two completely different types of zhenqi had been cultivated to great success at the same time and circulated in two separate circulations in his body, supporting each other. Only then did he truly distance himself from the danger of zhenqi exploding in his body and the shadow that had accompanied him since his childhood.
However, he had received confirmation from Sigu Jian's mouth that if he wanted to practice the second half of the scroll, he would have to allow the zhenqi to explode in his body and shatter all the Meridians in his body. Fan Xian's face became deathly pale. Lying frozen in bed, difficult to eat and difficult to speak, such a life was not for a person to live. Furthermore, with all the Meridians in his body shattered, how could he survive?
"Whether or not he can survive after his Meridians are shattered is up to fate," Sigu Jian said coldly. "Without question, the Qing Emperor is a very lucky person."
Even if he was about to die, Sigu Jian would not admit that the Qing Emperor was fated.
Fan Xian was silent for a long time. He then shook his head. "Luck cannot solve problems. My luck was not bad. The first time my Meridians were damaged, I did not die. But, I know that if my Meridians are completely shattered, I can only become a useless person. Furthermore, the pain that is everywhere in my body is not something a person can endure. "
"But, the Qing Emperor endured it and lived." Sigu Jian lowered his eyelids slightly and sighed imperceptibly.
Fan Xian had sunk into a state of stupidity. He had many dreams, or ideals, in this life. Putting aside the worldly problems of his wife, children, and money, the nameless Martial Secret that had accompanied him for his entire second life had faintly become a part of his life. Although he had never said it explicitly, in his heart, he greatly desired to be able to practice this Martial Secret to the second volume.
It had nothing to do with breaking through realms and becoming a Great Grandmaster. It was purely a desire. However, this desire had become an extravagant hope that could not be reached. To be able to survive after his Meridians had shattered and endure the inhuman pain, forcefully gather the bits of zhenqi in his body that had scattered like starlight, endure the annoyance of his entire body being stiff, defend his will, and recultivate …
Fan Xian suddenly remembered that Chen Pingping and his father had once mentioned to him that during the Qing Kingdom's first Northern expedition against the Wei Kingdom, the Emperor had suffered a crushing defeat at the hands of Commander Zhan Qingfeng. He himself had also been heavily injured. His entire body was stiff, unable to move, and he had almost died.
It looked like the Emperor's breakthrough in his Martial Secret had happened on the ever-changing and incomparably dangerous battlefield.
Fan Xian couldn't help but sigh. Regardless of what his feelings toward the Emperor were, when he thought of the scenes on the battlefield, the torture the middle-aged man had experienced in his body, and the miraculous changes, he still felt a sense of admiration.
"Other than fate, what else is needed?" Fan Xian asked to himself.
"Perseverance, extraordinary perseverance. Otherwise, it would be impossible to endure that kind of pain, the torment between life and death, the fear of being sealed in the darkness and struggling against the unknown," Sigu Jian said indifferently.
Although he had never cultivated the Nameless Martial Secret, he only needed a thought to know what kind of training the Qing Emperor had experienced if he wanted to cultivate the second half of the scroll.
"The Qing Emperor must have been in great pain, very great pain. That is precisely why I was happy just now." Without waiting for Fan Xian to reply, Sigu Jian continued with a raspy laugh. "I admire the willpower and perseverance of someone who can endure this."
"I can't do it, and you can't do it," Sigu Jian said. "In this world, there is probably only one person who can have such willpower and be so cruel to himself. You should give up on this thought. "
Fan Xian lowered his head and didn't know what to say. He only heard Sigu Jian's angry voice ring out by his ear. "This is not something a person can practice!"
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