Apotheosis Begins with Tai Chi

「Two days later.」

In the early morning, the sky was a dreary gray. Wind swept in from the open plains, tearing at the loose snow on the eaves of the Five-Mile Pavilion and sending it swirling through the air.

On the main road, dew had frozen into a thin sheet of ice. The tread of hooves produced a fine, CRUNCHING sound.

”This is far enough.”

Cao Zhao and Wang Chuang reined in their horses, turning to look back at Chen Cheng and Fatty Fang, who were also on horseback.

Several other riders were with them, but they didn’t stop.

The man in the lead, Du Wenshun, called out specifically to them:

”Chuang, Young Master Cao, we’re short on time today! You need to catch up with the group quickly!”

Du Wenshun was supposed to have returned to the Prefecture City a few days ago. It seemed business negotiations hadn’t gone smoothly, delaying him until today.

The road ahead wasn’t safe. They needed to take advantage of the daylight and cover as much ground as possible.

”You go on ahead, Uncle Du! We’ll be right behind you!”

Wang Chuang shouted his reply, his gaze returning to Chen Cheng.

He clutched the reins, his lips moving as if he had a thousand things to say, but in the end, he only said in a somber tone:

”Cheng, after we part today, who knows when we’ll see each other again... You must take good care of yourself. If you run into any trouble, go find my uncle at the Hunting Manor.”

Chen Cheng nudged his horse’s flank, urging it forward a few steps. He reached out and clapped Wang Chuang heavily on the shoulder.

”You take care, too.”

Chen Cheng pulled his hand back and sat straight in his saddle. His gaze passed over Wang Chuang’s shoulder to the main road stretching into the gray horizon as he said calmly:

”The green mountains will still be here, and we are bound to meet again.”

”Well said!”

Cao Zhao flicked his whip in agreement. His tone was cheerful, but it couldn’t hide the complex emotions in his eyes. He glanced at Chen Cheng, then at Fatty Fang, who was trailing at the back:

”I’m honestly surprised you came.”

”Tch.”

Fatty Fang curled his lip, his bulky frame swaying on horseback, a dismissive look on his face.

”I didn’t come to see *you* off. I came to see off my brother, Wang Chuang!”

”You damn fatty!”

Cao Zhao snapped coldly.

”Didn’t you just fucking meet Chuang?”

”None of your business.”

Fatty Fang muttered, turning his face away. But after a pause, he turned back, his voice much more serious than before.

”Once you’re out there, don’t dwell on the crap you’re leaving behind. Focus on getting better and stronger. I’ll be waiting for you to come back, and we’ll go another three hundred rounds.”

Cao Zhao’s expression froze. He stared at Fatty Fang for a moment, his lips trembling slightly. Finally, he nodded heavily.

”I will definitely be back within three years!”

A silence fell over the group.

The other three knew full well about Cao Zhao’s broken engagement and what he planned to do when he returned in three years. For a moment, none of them knew whether to advise him against it or to encourage him.

”Why don’t we make a three-year pact?”

After a brief silence, Wang Chuang was the first to speak up. That was just his nature.

”In three years, we’ll meet again in Zhao City! I’ll definitely become as strong as Cheng!”

”Alright! It’s a deal!”

Cao Zhao’s eyes hardened, and he said, almost enunciating each word:

”In three years, we’ll meet again in Zhao City. I will make the Pang Family regret it!”

”...Why are you all looking at me?”

Fatty Fang was taken aback. This hadn’t involved him, but with the other three staring at him, he had no choice but to bite the bullet and say:

”In three years, I’ll try to break through my bottleneck and form my Seventh Pillar of Blood Qi.”

”You damn fatty, is that the extent of your ambition?”

Cao Zhao couldn’t help but roll his eyes at him.

”...When you hit a bottleneck yourself, you’ll realize ambition isn’t something you can just talk about.”

Fatty Fang retorted irritably, ”Anyone can spout empty nonsense, can’t they? In three years, I’ll be at the Peak of Nine Pillars of Blood Qi, and I’ll break through to the Divine Treasure Realm right in front of your face. Let’s see if that doesn’t scare you to death!”

”...You should probably focus on figuring out how to break through your bottleneck.”

Cao Zhao glared at the fatty again. But despite the disdain in his eyes, the corner of his mouth couldn’t help but curl into a smile.

”Tsk, you finally cracked a smile,” Fatty Fang pursed his lips and started laughing too.

Cao Zhao froze for a second, then his face went stern again.

”Cheng, what about you?”

Wang Chuang smoothed things over again, drawing the gazes of both Cao Zhao and Fatty Fang to Chen Cheng.

”In three years, when we meet again in Zhao City...”

Chen Cheng paused. He didn’t want to be falsely modest, but he couldn’t be too flamboyant either. After a moment of thought, he said calmly:

”By then, I just hope... to be a little bit stronger than all of you.”

”It’s a promise!”

”It’s a promise!”

Four voices rang out one after another—clear, passionate, and full of youthful spirit.

All the hardships and struggles, all the sorrow of parting, were completely swept away by that single shout.

A thousand words could wait until they met again.

Cao Zhao wheeled his horse around and was the first to gallop off, whip raised. Wang Chuang followed close behind, but after a few strides, he looked back one last time and waved his whip in a final farewell.

The first light of dawn broke through the horizon, stretching the two riders’ silhouettes long and thin. The sound of their hooves faded into the distance, eventually dissolving in the wind.

Chen Cheng and Fatty Fang exchanged a glance, then they too spurred their horses on, melting into the vast emptiness at the other end of the road.

「That afternoon, in the inner courtyard of the Chen Mansion.」

Sunlight filtered down through the branches of an old pagoda tree in the corner of the courtyard, scattering across the ground like shattered gold.

Two figures weaved and dodged through the light and shadows. The wind from their fists and the Power of their palms whistled, kicking up flurries of loose snow and making the icicles tremble.

Chen Cheng used both his fists and feet.

His Power was Entwining, flowing without cease.

He switched seamlessly between Hidden Dragon Fist and the Thunder Treading Skill, having reached a Realm of effortless transition and perfect Harmony.

Anyone who didn’t know better would have thought they were a single style of Martial Arts.

Zhuang Zhen was sparring with him, her slender palms a blur and her long legs leaping through the air.

Most of the time, Zhuang Zhen held a clear advantage, relying on her Seven Pillars of Blood Qi and her Transforming Force.

But Chen Cheng’s defense was impenetrable. He could always seize opportunities at crucial moments to launch one or two brilliant counterattacks, forcing Zhuang Zhen to use her Transforming Force to block, lest she be defeated instantly.