Why do I have so many masters?-Chapter 727 - 35 Heavenly Heart, Full Moon (2/2)
Chapter 727 -35 Heavenly Heart, Full Moon (2/2)
Contrary to Wang Anfeng’s expectations, the night passed without incident. He had slightly loosened the wrap on his back to ensure that if something did happen, he could draw his sword at the fastest speed, but it seemed it was just his own needless worry.
But of course, it was always best to avoid troubles.
It was still early, and everyone else had yet to awake; Li Qidao lay on his bed with open arms, looking haphazard, snoring thunderously with the overpowering might of his Lei Dao martial arts, crisp as a clap of thunder.
Wang Anfeng chuckled softly and strolled to the window, watching the dissipating clouds in the distance. The sun seemed unhindered by yesterday’s storm, already emanating a warm, sweltering heat in the morning.
There were still puddles in the uneven ground, but with the temperature as it was, by the afternoon much of it would likely have evaporated, making the air even more stifling for those walking on the roads.
With his eyes slightly closed, Wang Anfeng took a deep breath, long and profound, imbued with tremendous True Qi that surged through the Eight Extraordinary Meridians like a dragon roaming the seas.
Ordinarily, as True Qi circulated, it accelerated with advancing to the Middle Third Rank, integrating Heaven and Earth both inside and outside the body, until its speed reached the physical limit that one’s body could bear. It would then erupt like thunder, unleashing a strength far beyond the ordinary.
However, the cultivation of Shaolin Temple’s Golden Bell Shield required the opposite. The circulation of True Qi slowed with each iteration until at this moment, with each inch it traveled, the weight grew substantially, as if a strongman were dragging a mountain, shaking the acupoints and channels throughout the body, making the area within a foot radius increasingly dense, like a mountain.
Next to the inn grew several mulberry trees; it was still early, and bright, colorful birds pecked at each other’s feathers and frolicked. Suddenly, they took flight, their chirping clear and melodious, shedding a few tail feathers.
The tips of the feathers were reddish, gradually turning green toward the base, reminiscent of the changing skies after a sudden cease of rain. The feathers were incredibly soft, and while they initially floated gently downward, as they neared Wang Anfeng, their descent abruptly slowed, as if they had entered an invisible marsh seen only by the eyes.
As they fell closer to the ground, they slowed even more, and by the time they reached Wang Anfeng’s palm, they had completely halted in mid-air. The beautiful and vivid feathers simply hung there, the fine down quivering slightly but neither falling further nor rising, bizarrely stationary.
Wang Anfeng calmly raised his right hand, fingers spread, thumb touching forefinger, and with a slight twist of the wrist, he deftly pinched the feather from the air, as if picking a flower. With his left hand behind his back, his face calm and serene, he exuded an indescribable charm.
Li Qidao, who had been sprawled out and snoring, opened his eyes and saw Wang Anfeng’s silhouette, first with a look of astonishment, then a hint of admiration.
As the sun rose higher, the crisp sound of a kitchen knife hitting a cutting board came from the back kitchen. Outside, one could hear crowing roosters and barking dogs, and the sounds of people passing by. Suddenly, Wang Anfeng’s body trembled slightly, and a muffled roar like thunder erupted from around him, bursting forth and rolling away, as if a thunderclap had struck from clear skies.
There was a snapping sound, and without any visible anomaly, Wang Anfeng’s feet sank into the floor, and the entire inn seemed to shake momentarily. The delicate feather in his hand instantly got caught in a maelstrom between Heaven and Earth, as if pulled by “Dragon Draws Water,” and was pulverized into dust, leaving only faint traces in his palm.
Wang Anfeng’s breathing suddenly became rapid, and within a few breaths, his forehead and body were covered in sweat. His palm, which had held the feather with enough force to crush boulders, now trembled uncontrollably.
It was only after several long breaths that he managed to calm the tumultuous energy in his chest, and he chuckled bitterly to himself, recognizing that he had become a little too eager after making some progress.
This was simply the Sixth Layer of the Golden Bell Shield he was currently practicing. Once all Thirteen Layers were mastered, one would attain the Thirteenth Rank Vajra Realm, unbreakable and capable of breaking all else. Beginning with the Sixth Layer, the route of circulating energy suddenly became much more complex.
He had yet not reached halfway through the current cultivation. He needed to reach the realm of “Reward as Great as Mountains from a Seed as Tiny as a Mustard,” where a single breath of True Qi would resonate with every acupoint and bone in the body, bestowing mountainous strength to punching and kicking. Yet this was not merely the pursuit of brute physical power as in External Cultivation; overemphasis on sheer force was a deviation from the true path.
Confused, Wang Anfeng had asked his Master at Shaolin Temple, who simply broke a branch of flowers for him and uttered, “When branches blossom in spring, the heart of the heavens is as round as the moon,” followed by silence and smiles. No matter how Wang Anfeng inquired, the monk refused to say more.
Although still puzzling over its meaning, Wang Anfeng could only persist in his arduous cultivation daily. After staying vigilant all of last night and upon seeing the clear skies post-rain this morning, he was moved and tried cultivating again. Indeed, as if by divine aid, he achieved the “Condense Qi as Heavy as Mountains” realm.
The vibrant feather was crushed into dust by the dense Vigorous Qi emanating from his body, which also caused instability in his breath, nearly puncturing the wooden floor with two holes under his feet.
If he really could master such a technique, the power of his Sword Qi would surely soar to new heights. He could upraise mountains and surpass the northern seas, reach the vast ocean, and attain the realm of Thunderous Sword Qi within the Sword Dao. But for now, this level was still a distant goal.
Wang Anfeng looked at the remaining tail feather dust in his palm, let out a bitter smile, exhaled, and blew the dust away. As he turned around, he saw Li Qidao stretching languidly and waking up. Wang discarded the slight sense of regret in his heart and called out with a smile for Li Qidao to get up and wash.
The cook had prepared food for around a hundred people the day before. Today, with aches in his back and at the shopkeeper’s offer of extra pay, he clenched his teeth, cooked some light rice porridge, finely chopped fresh vegetables, sprinkled them with oil, and mixed well with some salt and chili using chopsticks.
Together with the steamed white buns that the shopkeeper helped prepare, it made for a refreshingly tasty breakfast. Even Liu Ling, who couldn’t be happy without alcohol daily, couldn’t argue, having consumed a large bowl and praised it continuously.
Feasting on meat and fish every day was certainly enjoyable, but for nurturing one’s stomach and heart, nothing beat plain porridge and simple dishes. After indulging in rich flavors, it was particularly pleasant to have some light food.
Once everyone had finished breakfast, Wang Anfeng settled the remaining expenses with the shopkeeper. The group left the Inn before the escort agency across the street and pulled out their caravan, leaving the Inn and heading rapidly towards the direction of Jian’nan Road. After covering over a dozen miles without seeing any trace of martial artists, Wang Anfeng finally felt at ease.
However, he noticed that Tian Zhide’s expression seemed to be somewhat gloomy. Wang slightly frowned but kept this observation to himself and did not mention it outright.
At this moment, his demeanor was serene as he rode on horseback, his eyes slightly closed. His vigorous True Qi rolled within his meridians, but he dared not recklessly cultivate to the heavy realm akin to a mountain.
If something went awry, not to mention anything else, the black horse beneath him, worth five hundred silver, would have to be sacrificed right there, and it would probably upset him for several days before he could recover.
After his True Qi had circulated several times within his body, Wang Anfeng’s ears twitched slightly. He heard a series of deep horse hoof sounds in the distance. Opening his eyes and looking in the direction of the sounds, it wasn’t long before more than thirty fast horses emerged, each rider cloaked in black with a sword on their back, exuding a fierce aura.
As they got closer, they ignored Wang Anfeng’s caravan and headed directly towards the Inn. For a moment, the sound of horseshoes was like thunder, echoing into the distance.
Tian Zhide’s face changed dramatically, and almost instinctively, he wanted to turn his horse around, but then he remembered something and forcefully stopped himself. His expression went through several changes, showing a hint of sorrow.
Wang Anfeng’s gaze became reserved, showing no particular reaction, but he already employed the Pupil Skill he learned from Mr. Ying, observing those black-clad swordsmen closely. He didn’t spot anything out of the ordinary, yet he did recognize someone from the day before—a young swordsman who had been defeated by the scholar in green at the tea stand.
The swordsman also saw Wang Anfeng and the others. Wang’s simple and unimpressive appearance went unnoticed by the swordsman, but Wang saw a mix of surprise, embarrassment, and agitation on the swordsman’s face.
Having been through many things, Wang knew that he probably couldn’t avoid getting involved in this matter.
It echoed the old saying on the Jianghu; you may not seek trouble, but trouble will find you. When he heard the sounds of horseshoes splitting off behind them and then several strong horses doubling back and chasing towards them, his eyes narrowed slightly, and he let out a resigned sigh.
His right hand hung low, and his wrist turned subtly, his index finger and thumb as if pinching a flower.
The wind hummed low, rippling the accumulated puddles by the roadside. A fallen leaf, carrying water, rose on the breeze and, quite perfectly, landed between Wang Anfeng’s fingers.
The leaf, originally soft, suddenly became straight as a stick.
The accumulated water scattered, turning into mist.
PS: The second update for today is here…
