High Martial Arts: Enlightenment after Practices

The night was deep, and Red River City was immersed in the peaceful sound of rain. Inside the second-floor study of a villa in Shanshui Manor, a desk lamp cast a soft glow. Xu Wuyi sat at the desk, his personal terminal projecting a holographic map of the Federation. A cursor blinked at the border between Dongjiang Province and its neighboring province.

Wang Hanshan.

He was the successor of the Mountain-Smashing Fist, former Patriarch of the eastern Noble Family, the Wang family, and universally recognized as one of the top three Quasi-Grandmasters in terms of Physical Strength. This senior’s residence was in Su’an Province, right next door to Dongjiang Province. It was less than five hundred kilometers from Red River City—a mere two-hour ride on the high-speed rail. The Dongjiang Battle Group had already helped him make contact, and Wang Hanshan had readily agreed to meet. The time was set for tomorrow afternoon.

Xu Wuyi turned off the map projection and leaned back in his chair.

Outside the window, the pitter-patter of rain tapped against the glass. The sound of the television drifted up from the living room—his parents were watching the evening news. These ordinary sounds brought him a rare sense of tranquility. However, he knew this peace would soon be broken. His journey of experiential wandering would begin tomorrow.

Standing up, Xu Wuyi left the study without turning on the lights and made his way down the stairs to the basement in the dark. The metal door slid open silently, and the floor lamps in the Cultivation Room automatically flared to life, their soft light outlining the equipment racks and the Meditation Area.

He sat cross-legged on a futon and closed his eyes.

Deep within his Sea of Consciousness, a dark gold great marsh slowly surfaced. After nearly half a year of settling, this Heart Image marsh had become extremely stable. Every breath was as deep and powerful as the Earth’s pulse. Rich Energy flowed through the marsh waters, nourishing his entire Heart Image world.

Deep in the center of the marsh, the Golden Crow Illusion floated quietly. Unlike the restlessness during their initial forced fusion, the Golden Crow Illusion had now completely sunk into the great marsh, almost blending into it as one. Unless one deliberately sensed it, they would only detect an extremely obscure shadow in the depths of the marsh’s center, like a sun hidden in the deep sea.

With a slight shift in Xu Wuyi’s thoughts, the marsh waters surged, and the Golden Crow Illusion slowly rose.

It emerged from the depths, spreading its dark gold wings. Every feather flowed with a lava-like luster. Yet, that radiance wasn’t blinding; instead, it carried a restrained, heavy presence, as if the Flame were enveloped by the Earth—burning, but never ostentatious. The Golden Crow Illusion circled once above the Sea of Consciousness, then descended back into the center of the marsh, sinking away once more.

The entire process was smooth and natural, without the slightest hitch. The fusion of the two Rules—”Heaviness” and ”Incineration”—had naturally fallen into place. The great marsh carried the Flame, and the Flame nourished the great marsh. The two complemented each other, forming the cornerstone of his Heart Image world.

But Xu Wuyi frowned.

There was a problem. It wasn’t an issue with the fusion, but with the Golden Crow itself. He could feel that while the Golden Crow Illusion had perfectly integrated into the great marsh and operated freely within his Heart Image system, it still seemed to lack something crucial. It wasn’t strength, Rules, or form. It was a kind of... Divine Charm.

It was like a painting where the lines, colors, and composition were flawless, yet it lacked the one touch of soul that could bring the art to life.

Xu Wuyi tried using his Spiritual Power to touch the Golden Crow Illusion, carefully sensing its every detail. The feathers, claws, pupils, flames... everything was perfect. But he just felt something was missing.

He opened his eyes. Only the soft glow of the floor lamps illuminated the Cultivation Room. The sound of rain continued outside the window.

Xu Wuyi stood up, walked over to the equipment rack, and took down the Liaoyuan Long Spear. The spear felt slightly heavy in his hands, its dark gold patterns gleaming with a cold luster under the lights. Gripping the shaft, he didn’t practice any Techniques. He merely stood there quietly, feeling the texture of the weapon as numerous images flashed through his mind.

The fierce battles on the Crystal Plain, Zhao Yuanwu’s shock when he was repelled by a single thrust, the look in Zhou Chen’s eyes when his sword became a Broken Sword, and Grandmaster Lin Jianyi’s casual remark after their arranged duel. Every one of these battles and opponents had advanced his Martial Arts. Yet, that slight deficiency in his Golden Crow Heart Image persisted.

”Maybe... I really need to find the answer in battle,” Xu Wuyi muttered to himself. He placed the spear back on the rack, turned around, and left the Cultivation Room.

The next morning, the rain had stopped.

The sky remained overcast, but the clouds had thinned out, occasionally allowing rays of sunlight to peek through the gaps. Mrs. Xu had gotten up early to prepare breakfast, making shrimp dumplings and century egg and lean pork congee. Meanwhile, Father Xu was in the courtyard tending to the pots of holly, his movements sluggish and deliberate, as if he were trying to stall for time.

A slight silence hung over the breakfast table.

Mrs. Xu kept placing food into Xu Wuyi’s bowl until the shrimp dumplings piled up into a small mountain. Father Xu occasionally asked about his itinerary and gave him a few reminders.

”Are things all set with Senior Wang Hanshan?” Father Xu asked.

”Everything is set,” Xu Wuyi said. ”The Dongjiang Battle Group helped contact him. Senior Wang was very welcoming and said I could visit anytime.”

”That’s good.” Father Xu nodded. ”When you’re away from home, remember your manners. Even though it’s a Martial Arts spar, you’re visiting a senior. Proper respect is essential.”

”I know.”

Mrs. Xu put down her chopsticks and looked at her son. ”How long will you be gone this time?”

”It’s hard to say,” Xu Wuyi answered honestly. ”Senior Wang’s place is just the first stop. After that, I have to go to the Northern Domain, the Southwest... There are quite a few names on the list. I might end up traveling across more than half the Federation.”

Mrs. Xu sighed, saying nothing more.

After breakfast, Xu Wuyi returned to his room to pack his bags. In truth, there wasn’t much to pack. A few changes of clothes, some daily necessities, his personal terminal, his ID card, and the Liaoyuan Long Spear. When a Martial Artist traveled, their luggage was always simple.

He packed the Liaoyuan Long Spear into a specialized carrying case and slung it over his back. The case was custom-made by the military; outwardly, it looked like an ordinary musical instrument case and wouldn’t draw any unwanted attention.

When he went downstairs, his parents were already waiting in the living room.

Father Xu patted him on the shoulder. ”Be careful on the road. Call us if anything happens.”

”I will.”

There weren’t many words of farewell. Xu Wuyi slung the spear case over his back, picked up an insulated meal bag, and walked out of the house.

The courtyard gate closed behind him. Standing at the entrance, he glanced back. The window on the second floor of the villa was open, and he could see his parents standing there, waving at him. Xu Wuyi waved back, then turned around and walked out along the flagstone path of the residential area. His steps weren’t fast, but they were exceptionally steady.

Red River City High-Speed Railway Station.

Because it was a weekday, there weren’t many people in the waiting hall. Xu Wuyi swiped his ID card to pass through security and sat down in the waiting area. There were twenty minutes left until his departure. He opened his personal terminal, brought up Wang Hanshan’s profile, and read it over again.

Wang Hanshan, sixty-seven years old, the ninth-generation successor of the Mountain-Smashing Fist. He advanced to Quasi-Grandmaster at the age of thirty-eight, took over as the Patriarch of the Wang family at forty-two, led them for over twenty years, and only retired two years ago.

The file contained several photos. One was of a young Wang Hanshan—thick eyebrows, large eyes, a burly physique, and a gaze as sharp as an eagle’s. Another was a recent portrait. His hair had turned gray, but he still stood perfectly straight. His muscles bulged with power, showing not a hint of old age.