Wang Ping had an epiphany.
Deep within the peach grove, he drew his bow and nocked an arrow. His expression was calm and composed, yet his essence, energy, and spirit surged outward in an endless torrent, countless flashes of inspiration bursting forth all at once.
Boom!
A thunderous roar echoed as the Black Hornless Dragon Bow quivered. Dazzling celestial light erupted from the bowstring, shooting straight into the clouds and churning up billowing shockwaves that truly carried the momentum to pierce the heavens and shake the skies.
With Madam Su's assistance, he had finally unleashed this arrow.
Cloud-Piercing Sky-Shaking Bow, grand completion!
Empowered by military strategy, a single arrow brought biting frost!
Only after an unknown stretch of time did Wang Ping's surging essence, energy, and spirit gradually subside. A numb ache crept through his arms, and a sense of hollow exhaustion washed over his body.
What a remarkable secret art!
Wang Ping was astonished. With his perfection-realm mastery of the Iron Ox Art, a single session of cultivating this art had actually left him feeling somewhat worn out.
This showed that although he had run the secret art only once, it was effectively the instantaneous culmination of scores, if not hundreds, of accumulated efforts. No wonder this thaumaturgic art placed such harsh demands on one's physique. If an ordinary martial artist lacked the physical constitution and attempted to force it, they might very well suffer a fatal stroke mid-coitus.
At this thought, he glanced toward Madam Su.
Fine beads of sweat still lingered on the tip of the beautiful woman's nose as she exhaled slowly, clearly exhausted from the exertion as well. The chicken wrap hadn't turned out right—it was way too salty.
Noticing Wang Ping's gaze, a gentle smile graced her lips.
"Congratulations, Langjun, on taking your martial arts another step forward."
"Thank you for your hard work, Madam."
Wang Ping gave Madam Su's shoulder an affectionate squeeze and chuckled. "Rest easy. At Brother Liu's pace, there should be word within half a month."
These words were meant to comfort her.
After all, once Liu Ye delivered the message to the Su clan in the capital, Madam Su's friends and relatives from her days there would come rushing over at once, ensuring her safety.
Yet no joy appeared on Madam Su's face.
Quite the contrary, she grabbed Wang Ping's hand, turned toward him, and whispered, "Must you go? Can't we hide together for half a month?"
Wang Ping shook his head. "Half a month is too long."
By his estimate, Xu Bingzheng would stabilize his injuries within a week at most. Even if the man could not fully recover, it would be enough for him to show his face and issue orders.
When that time came, they would be facing the entire Longxing County yamen.
And in martial combat, two fists were always hard-pressed against four hands.
Hounded by over a hundred constables from the county yamen, Wang Ping's internal strength would eventually run dry no matter how deep his reserves were—not to mention the distraction of having to protect Madam Su.
In other words:
"We have one week at best. If we want to stretch that window to half a month or even longer, someone has to make a sacrifice."
Either he abandoned Madam Su and waged a guerrilla campaign on his own, which would actually make things simple—facing not just a hundred constables, but several times that number, he could still maneuver with ease. Or he sacrificed himself, had Madam Su go into hiding, and went to fight Xu Bingzheng to the death. Win or lose, Madam Su would certainly survive.
A very simple multiple-choice question.
I can have countless chances to start over, but other people only get one life. How could I let someone die for my sake?
His conscience would not permit such a thing.
Besides, he happened to hold another sacred scroll. If he could die heroically and then contain his own corpse, he might just hit the jackpot.
"Don't worry."
Wang Ping patted Madam Su's shoulder and smiled. "Though my conscience is rather heavy, I'm lucky enough to possess just enough ability to shoulder it."
Madam Su's expression grew even more solemn.
At this moment, she felt a wave of bewilderment. The man before her completely defied her understanding. Why could he treat matters of life and death so lightly, laughing them off?
She had never done him any great favor.
To put it bluntly, she had offered him nothing more than her body and a few martial arts manuals. What did that amount to in the eyes of an ordinary martial artist? Certainly nothing worth gambling one's life over.
Could it be that he had truly fallen in love with her?
Even if so, was that enough to make him cast his life aside so recklessly?
Madam Su could not help but wonder: if it had been Chen Haoyan—that villain who claimed to love her desperately—would he have gone to such lengths for her?
The answer surfaced almost immediately.
He wouldn't have.
If it had been Chen Haoyan, he would have fled through the night without looking back. Her life and death wouldn't have mattered to him in the slightest, let alone risking his neck on her behalf.
With that realization, she looked at Wang Ping once more.
In that instant, without Wang Ping making a single move, warmth surged through her. It felt as though a fire was blazing within her heart, spreading outward through every limb and bone.
"Wang Ping... Langjun, take me."
For the first time, she called him by his name. Before the words had fully faded, she leaned in impatiently to kiss him, even reaching out to turn the tables and take the initiative over Wang Ping's body.
"Wait, what? Madam, please compose yourself..."
***
The clouds parted, the rain ceased, and the spring light shone bright.
Wang Ping held Madam Su in his arms as they leaned against a peach tree, listening to the beauty recite a mnemonic chant in a raspy, magnetic voice, enunciating every single word.
"This is... a martial art?" Wang Ping asked, somewhat surprised.
"You could say that."
Madam Su curled lazily into Wang Ping's embrace before explaining, "To be precise, it's a martial art adapted from a thaumaturgic technique.
"Because that thaumaturgic technique was far too domineering and extracted a devastating price, barely anyone among the thaumaturges ever mastered it. Yet its power was astonishing. Thus, the imperial court specially allocated funds and invited three grandmasters to join forces and deduce a solution. Only after forty-nine days did they succeed in simplifying it."
With that, Madam Su raised a finger and traced six large characters in the dirt:
Heavenly Demon Disintegration Art.
"This technique is domineering; none but an internal strength martial master can employ it.
"That is because what it disintegrates is not the physical flesh, but an internal strength martial master's foundation—exchanging the destruction of one's own martial cultivation for several times, or even dozens of times, one's normal internal strength."
Madam Su's voice grew softer and softer, and she could not help clinging tightly to Wang Ping.
"Langjun, the road ahead is fraught with peril. There is little I can do to help you. All I can offer is this technique. If your martial arts are lost, you can always train again. My only wish is for you to return safely..."
Wang Ping felt his scalp tingle slightly.
Oh no, did I lay it on a bit too thick? At this point, there's no way I can blurt out, "Actually, I won't die, and I can revive myself."
Of course, even if he could, he wouldn't.
After all, it was impossible for him to stop his journey and settle down to live a peaceful life with anyone. Given his style of doing things, being completely unattached suited him best.
Settling the matters of this life in this life and clearing all karmic ties was for the best.
Soon, another seven days passed.
Before dawn, Wang Ping had packed his gear. Neatly dressed, carrying his bow and saber, he stepped out of the wooden cabin in the peach grove and looked toward Longxing County in the distance.
Over the past seven days, Madam Su had helped him practice the secret art Knocking on the Immortal Gate each day in an effort to push the Cloud-Piercing Sky-Shaking Bow toward the perfection realm. Regrettably, even this secret art was not omnipotent. Seven sessions of Knocking on the Immortal Gate had failed to break through the bottleneck, though he could vaguely sense the threshold.
Fortunately, Wang Ping was in no rush.
He had a premonition that the final missing piece was neither comprehension nor cultivation, but blood. How could a martial art achieve perfection without tasting blood?
"Langjun, are you leaving?"
Wang Ping turned back. Madam Su had awakened at some point and was leaning against the doorframe, her lovely eyes shimmering with emotion, as if she had much to say but held herself back.
Seeing this, Wang Ping gave a hearty wave of his hand.
"Madam, please remember: do not enter the county seat over the next few days. I have prepared your dry rations and water. News should spread before long..."
After offering a few final reminders, Wang Ping turned away without looking back.
"Alright, I'm off."
Madam Su said nothing. She simply stared intently at his departing silhouette, watching with longing until he walked out of the peach grove and vanished from sight.
***
Longxing County.
In the early morning, damp moisture hung in the air. It should have been a time of renewal for all living things, yet a palpable, suffocating killing intent permeated the county seat.
This was the seventh day.
Seven days ago, nearly every external-work-perfected martial artist in town had heard that fierce clash, yet none had dared investigate, all feigning total ignorance.
However, after that night, everyone realized something was amiss. Following Chen Haoyan's death, the position of chief constable had been left vacant, so Magistrate Xu Bingzheng had shown his face at the county yamen every single day. Yet he had abruptly vanished without a trace. No one knew his whereabouts; he had simply disappeared overnight.
Why?
Everyone keenly sensed a certain possibility: had the magistrate suffered defeat that night, sustaining severe injuries that could not be shown to the public?
No one dared ask, but discreet probes grew increasingly frequent. As seven days went by, the entire county seat resembled a powder keg on the verge of exploding.
All it needed was a spark to ignite the entire city.
And now, he had arrived.
At the county gate, cold winds whipped briskly.
With every breath Wang Ping drew, his sinews and bones resonated in unison as billows of cloud-like vapor steamed from him, drifting with the wind as he walked. Faint roars of dragons and tigers seemed to emanate from within him, rolling out in every direction.
Soon, this sound spread from inside his body to the weapons on his person. The oxtail saber at his waist rattled continuously inside its scabbard with metallic clangs, and the Black Hornless Dragon Bow on his back seemed as though a hornless dragon was truly growling in a low voice. Beyond that, the soft armor on his body, his belt, and even his heart-protecting mirror echoed the harmony...
This was the manifestation of his martial arts.
It was also a process every internal strength martial master had to undergo: integrating the common weapons under their mastery that corresponded to their martial techniques, aligning them with their martial body.
Simply put, a gear set.
Integrating six common weapons to forge a sharp weapon set, which then harmonized with one's martial body, was the only way for a martial master to maximize the power of their internal strength.
Wang Ping had walked all the way from the peach grove to the county seat. The journey was not short, but he had maintained an unhurried pace specifically to complete this crucial step along the road.
"Who's there!"
With clouds clearing his path and dragons and tigers keeping company, such an astonishing phenomenon naturally alarmed the guards outside the town gates. In an instant, an uproar rippled through the grass market outside town.
Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!
The town gates slammed shut in a flash. Figures darted across the battlements as crossbows were rapidly hauled into position, all trained squarely on Wang Ping as he continued his approach.
At the same time, the garrison commander on duty flew into a towering rage.
"Outrageous!
"Another rebel from outside the walls! Are you trying to storm the county yamen like that White Lotus Sect rebel chieftain last time? Lawless! Utterly lawless—!?"
The voice cut off abruptly.
As Wang Ping drew closer, the commander caught a clear look at his face. It was as if an invisible giant hand had clamped around the man's throat, choking off his words.
I-it's him!?
Half a month ago, the name of Wang Ping, the Great Dragon Spear, had been little more than a running joke in Longxing County. Now, however, things were entirely different.
After all, anyone in town with the slightest bit of connections knew that on that night, the magistrate had headed straight for the Su Family Residence—and the one staying there was none other than this Great Dragon Spear, Wang Ping! Afterward, he had vanished mysteriously. It was entirely reasonable to deduce that he was likely the one who had grievously wounded the magistrate!
As time passed, Wang Ping's reputation in the county had grown downright monstrous.
Some said he was a spy for the northern barbarian tribes; some claimed he was a secret agent of the capital's Divine Constabulary; others insisted he was the true Sect Master pulling the strings behind the White Lotus Sect.
Why has he returned? What should I do?
For a moment, the commander was at a complete loss. He froze for quite a while before almost instinctively raising his hand, barely forcing out a voice from his throat:
"L-loose arrows!"
Before the words had even finished echoing, the twang of crossbow strings cracked like thunderclaps. In an instant, a dense, dark cloud of projectiles rained down toward the spot where Wang Ping stood.
Almost simultaneously, Wang Ping lifted his head.
The next second, the deadly shadow woven from hundreds of arrows engulfed his footing, yet not a single splash of blood appeared on the ground.
What the commander witnessed next nearly made him doubt his own eyes.
Looking out, he saw the youth carrying the bow and saber appear in an entirely different spot without warning, dozens of zhang away.
Then, the youth raised a foot.
No movement or sign of preparation had been visible, yet as his foot came down, his figure seemed to skip frames in reality.
With one step forward, he crossed another three to five zhang!
Thump!
Thump!
Thump!
Taking three strides in succession, as if performing the legendary thaumaturgic art of Ground Shrinking, the youth effortlessly crossed the town gate and arrived atop the battlements!
These three strides, so alien to common sense, sent a shudder through the commander's very soul. That terror quickly spread from the depths of his mind into his physical body. With every step that fell, it felt as though someone were hammering a war drum against his heart, pushing him beyond endurance.
This is... divine intent!?
How is that possible! No, wait... it makes sense. He's also a titled martial master with divine intent, which is how he managed to grievously wound the magistrate...
At that thought, the commander's vision suddenly turned pitch-black.
Not only him, but also the countless townspeople in the grass market outside town, as well as the garrison soldiers guarding the walls, all grew dizzy and collapsed to the ground.
Between heaven and earth, only the howling of the wind remained.
Then, the man who walked with clouds paving his path and dragons and tigers keeping company stepped over the battlements and walked into the county seat, unobstructed by a single soul along his way.
This was not divine intent, of course.
It was spiritual sense. After analyzing his battle with Xu Bingzheng, Wang Ping had used his spiritual sense to simulate those effects, achieving perhaps thirty to forty percent of divine intent's efficacy.
There was no helping it; his spiritual sense was simply too weak. It was merely an inherent trait of his Desire Realm Deva Body. While its quality might far surpass the divine intent of a titled martial master, its quantity was overwhelmingly insufficient. Thus, it was only good for bullying ordinary mortals. If he genuinely intended to storm the county yamen, this trick would fall short.
Even so, Wang Ping was quite satisfied.
As the saying goes, the essence of the martial path is the strong bullying the weak. Viewed from that angle, this trick suits my martial heart perfectly.
Raising his head, Wang Ping looked toward the county yamen.
Immediately, an illusion flickered before his eyes once more. In a daze, he seemed to see a roc bird curled up deep within the county yamen, glaring in his direction with venomous hatred.
"...Haha." Wang Ping laughed aloud and rolled up his sleeves.
Sure enough, in a mere seven days, this corrupt official hasn't recovered from his injuries. Old, weak, sick, and crippled—he checks three of the four! It's the perfect time to kick him while he's down and thrash a drowning dog!
Chapter 30