The Martial God who started at Mantuo Manor

Page 102

When you can infuse this 'intention' from your heart into the tip of your spear, and then release it from your body, you will have entered the realm of a grandmaster.

At that point, when you thrust your spear, even if the enemy is ten feet away, it will be as if they are right in front of you, with no way to avoid it.

Wang Meng looked down at the heavy gun barrel in his hand, then looked up at the horrifying finger hole in the stone table. He felt as if a door to a new world was slowly opening before him.

He always thought that power was just power, but he never thought that power also had a "soul".

"And what about above the Grandmaster level?"

He couldn't help but press for an answer.

Upon hearing this, Li Canghai smiled faintly, a smile carrying a hint of melancholy and emotion.

Above the Grandmaster is the 'Great Grandmaster'.

If a grandmaster is one who "controls qi with intention," then a great grandmaster is one with heaven and man.

"At that point, people are no longer merely controlling the primordial energy of heaven and earth, but to some extent, becoming part of the rules of heaven and earth."

Every gesture and movement is in accordance with the 'Tao'; every breath evokes wind and thunder.

They no longer deliberately pursue techniques, because they themselves are the strongest techniques.

That is the pinnacle of martial arts, and the beginning of another path... Such beings are already myths among mortals, legends of the martial world.

After Li Canghai finished speaking, he fell silent and turned his gaze back to the book in his hands, as if his words, which were enough to overturn the worldview of any martial artist, were just a casual remark.

But just as Wang Meng was still immersed in his boundless yearning for the ultimate realm of martial arts, Li Canghai suddenly made a move.

She didn't even get up; she simply leaned back comfortably in the bamboo chair, slowly raising her fair, jade-like right hand—the one not holding a book—and pointing towards the open space in the center of the courtyard.

There was no warning.

There was no sound at all.

But on the patch of open ground where her fingertip pointed, evenly bathed in sunlight, the light began to converge and distort in a way that defied logic. The warm afternoon sunlight seemed to transform into a flowing, golden liquid that could be kneaded at will, surging wildly from all directions toward a single point!

Wang Meng's pupils suddenly contracted to the size of a pinhead.

He watched as the rays of light coalesced into a dazzling, almost tangible ball of light on the open ground.

Then, under Wang Meng's gaze, this ball of light was stretched and folded by an invisible hand, and finally transformed into a character that was as swift and powerful as a dragon, full of endless sharpness and domineering intent—"武" (Wu, meaning martial arts)!

This character "武" (Wu), formed entirely from sunlight, floats three feet above the ground, radiating an awe-inspiring and majestic light that is too intimidating to look directly at.

The next moment, Li Canghai gently pressed his finger down.

"laugh!"

The character "武" (martial arts) shaped like light suddenly sank downwards, leaving a deep imprint on the solid bluestone ground!

There was no loud noise, only a piercing, soft screech, like boiling oil being poured onto ice.

A wave of intensely hot air suddenly spread out, making Wang Meng's clothes flutter loudly!

When the light faded, Wang Meng was horrified to discover that a new character, "武" (Wu), measuring one foot square and half an inch deep, had appeared on the hard bluestone slab!

The edges of the writing were incredibly smooth, exhibiting an eerie, glassy appearance, as if it had been instantly melted by terrifying heat and then cooled!

After doing all this, Li Canghai slowly withdrew his hand.

In that instant, the color drained from her usually calm face at a visible speed, turning her completely pale.

A fine, glistening layer of cold sweat even seeped from her forehead.

Her hand, which had just been holding the book with unwavering steadiness, began to tremble slightly uncontrollably.

She exhaled a long, weak breath, which was accompanied by wisps of white mist.

Then, she raised her head, and her deep, still eyes, no longer calm and still, were now filled with weariness as they stared intently at Wang Meng's magnificent, naked body, brimming with pure yang energy.

"This move consumed nearly 30% of my true energy."

Her voice was no longer composed, but carried a noticeable weakness.

"In my current condition, let alone going to Xiangyang, I'm afraid I'd even have a hard time leaving this Mantuo Manor."

Looking at Wang Meng's slightly open mouth in shock, Li Canghai's lips curled into an extremely rare, eerie smile, tinged with a weak and seductive quality.

She gently placed the heavy ancient book in her hand on the stone table.

"Before leaving..."

Her voice was extremely low, like a lover's whisper, yet it carried an undeniable command: "I need you, give it to me again."

Her eyes, glistening with tears from her weakness, slid unabashedly down Wang Meng's muscular chest.

Finally, her gaze fell upon his imposing silhouette, which had already swelled up again because of her words and was tightly wrapped in his tight-fitting trousers.

"With me here, Mantuo Manor is very safe!"

His dark eyes met Li Canghai's weak and watery eyes without flinching.

Wang Meng pursed his lips, then suddenly smiled and said, "I'll give you three more times, but you have to do me a favor!"

He was negotiating terms.

Li Canghai slowly raised his head.

Her face, pale from the depletion of her true energy, remained expressionless.

But in her unfathomable eyes, a fierce flame, almost tangible, flashed for a moment!

That wasn't anger, nor was it surprise.

It was a most primal, purest form of...greed.

"three times……"

Her lips, pale from weakness, moved gently, silently chewing on this number that was full of endless allure.

Then, Wang Meng witnessed a scene that made his blood boil and that he would never forget.

The corners of Li Canghai's mouth curled up slightly, with an almost imperceptible arc.

Her face remained as aloof and indifferent as ever, like a jade statue untouched by the world, exuding a sacred and inviolable sense of "purity."

However, the flames in her eyes burned ever brighter!

Immediately afterwards, a small, glistening, pink tongue slowly emerged from between her two plain lips.

It's not about seduction; it's more like an instinct.

A subconscious action that mimics sucking and swallowing when the body is extremely craving a certain kind of sweet spring.

"tell me the story."

Her voice regained a semblance of calm, yet carried a subtle, husky magnetism.

"As long as I can do it... let alone three times, even thirty times, three hundred times, it's not impossible."

But can you handle it?

These past few days, Wang Yuyan has been crying.

She locked herself in the most exquisite and tranquil embroidered room of Huanshi Water Pavilion, and no matter how the sun rose and set, or how the flowers bloomed and withered outside, she just cried.

At first, it was a wail. A heart-wrenching, desperate cry, as if the whole body was being vomited out of its throat.

The cries pierced through the heavy door panels and echoed in the garden filled with datura flowers, making even those eerie blossoms seem to lose some of their color.

But now, she no longer has the strength to cry like that.

She simply curled up quietly in a corner of the cold, embroidered bed, silently shedding tears.

Sometimes, she would suddenly shudder violently, as if she had been pricked by a needle.

That's because she remembered that she had been defiled.

Whenever this happens, she goes crazy, scratching her skin with her fingernails, as if trying to tear off that "unclean," dirty layer of skin.

But the pain in this body will soon be overwhelmed by another, larger, more thorough pain, enough to completely crush her soul.

Because, she would immediately remember... that Murong Fu was dead.

Her cousin died.

The figure she had chased since childhood, the god-like figure who embodied all her girlish feelings and future dreams, is dead.

This thought filled her with more despair than any actual defilement.

To be defiled is to destroy her "body".

Murong Fu's death, however, was a complete negation of her entire "existence".

What was the purpose of her life?

The purpose was to memorize all the vast martial arts manuals in the "Langhuan Jade Cave" so that my cousin could use them to guide him when needed.

She wanted to cultivate herself to be pure and virtuous, and to learn all the arts, so that in the future she could become the most perfect empress by his side, worthy of the title "Emperor of the Great Yan".

Everything about her—her knowledge, her beauty, her chastity, all her value—was like a carefully prepared, priceless treasure, meant to be offered to her cousin one day as an embellishment to his great cause of restoring his kingdom.

But now... the person who received the gift is gone.

These treasures.

In an instant, it turned into a pile of meaningless, ironic garbage.

With her defiled body, what so-called "chastity" could she possibly have?

With all those martial arts secrets in her head, who else needs to listen to her?

Tears, once again, burst forth.

This time, it wasn't for her lost innocence, nor for her cousin's death, but for her own utterly worthless and laughable existence.

But in this boundless abyss of despair, enough to drown anyone, there was a tiny, black, ink-drop-like thing.

Quietly, it rekindled from the depths of her heart, which had already turned to ashes.

At first, it was just a wisp.

Then, it began to grow wildly, spreading like black, living poisonous vines, quickly entwining her broken heart and filling that void of emptiness.

It was something called "hatred".

Her tears, miraculously, stopped.