Chapter 217: New Mission Begins

The Thirteen Tai Bao Golden Bell Shield's martial art, seen today, is indeed an early divine skill—claimed as the Golden Bell Shield Divine Skill Twelve Stages; breaking the twelve stages can achieve the Buddhist Sect's golden body that never decays. However, Bai Lang now also knows that after the eighth stage it is vague and may not be cultivable, meaning his Golden Bell Shield Divine Skill is nearing its end. "A flying flower or a plucked leaf can already hurt people; no need to reach the eleventh stage, one can do it now."

And when Bai Lang was breaking through the Golden Bell Shield's barrier while cultivating the Southern Dipper Sacred Fist, he already found it vanished. As for Internal Force, it flows endlessly; any Innate Expert can achieve that, but whether one can replenish it fast enough during fierce combat is another matter—strong masters can replenish Internal Force even more than they consume in battle, whereas a weak Innate Expert can only replenish a little while consumption is huge.

Bai Lang is not a weakling; he already counts as a strong one among the Innate Experts— not every Innate Expert can possess such a wide range of phenomena before achieving internal scenery outward release, and it is a celestial phenomenon that can be controlled and used in combat.

"Golden Bell Shield…" As Bai Lang waved his hand, wind blades swirled wildly, slashing his own body. The yang‑qi rebounded, and the wind blades instantly dispersed into nothing. "The iron armor is still there, hahaha, the Golden Bell Shield Divine Skill has just changed its method; after breaking the next stage it should be gone, right?" Bai Lang's surface manifested patterned yang‑qi, and the White Tiger Illusion was clad in bronze armor. The Golden Bell Shield has been absorbed by the Southern Dipper Sacred Fist; combined with Black Tiger Fist and Tiger Form True Meaning, the forged Southern Dipper White Tiger Fist set off.

Now the White Tiger Fist is in its initial form; as Bai Lang grows, this path of martial arts will surely continue to develop. The Southern Dipper Sacred Fist is such a fist method, constantly evolving according to each person's talent and aptitude. "That being said, the Fei Fei who handed me this path of martial arts… he is undeniably strong; having already fought on Spirit Mountain, how could he not be? In the world of martial arts he truly is a genius master."

The more he cultivates, the more Bai Lang yearns for that Fei Fei; he does not know when he might attain such ability—perhaps he will never reach that level before death. But for now, he will first practice his martial arts.

Bai Lang once again put on his bamboo hat and went into the city to buy goods; this time, for some inexplicable reason, he turned onto the road leading to the Weiwei Residence. While he casually glanced at the wares in the shops on both sides of the road and sniffed the lingering fragrance seeping into the wooden beams of a yet‑closed brothel, a voice made Bai Lang's heart skip. "Fine, I'm going right now."

The voice sounded somewhat familiar yet rather foreign, as if it were the voice of someone he had known long, long ago, but he couldn't recall. Bai Lang lifted his head toward the direction of the voice—only to see a few silhouettes walking into the Weiwei Residence. "Who is it? I've definitely heard that voice somewhere… but these silhouettes." An Innate Expert's memory is still good; Bai Lang fully recognized those silhouettes, though they didn't feel particularly familiar.

Memories from before attaining Innate Expert status are far less clear, just like an ordinary person's—forgotten when they should be. Bai Lang shook his head, still unable to identify which acquaintance this was—a vaguely known acquaintance; the silhouettes he saw were all Weiwei guards, and Bai Lang clearly recalled that among the waist badges, some were silver. "Are they also Innate Experts like me?"

Inside the Mountain God Temple, Bai Lang sat cross‑legged on a couch, regulating breath and nurturing Qi; innate true Qi coursed through his body, but only a slight increase. "In the end it's a moving technique; meditation and breath regulation aren't suitable for it," Bai Lang felt heat in his chest, realizing he had to go to that damned Adventure Hall again.

Sure enough, after a moment of distraction he found himself inside a Great Hall. Bai Lang sat up straight and let out a "Eh?"; the hall was empty except for him. "Dead in the real world?" he muttered, but the Adventure Hall gave no answer. He looked around—he felt this Adventure Hall was somehow different. Indeed, he saw cracks appearing on the ceiling of the Great Hall; a closer look revealed the entire hall was already in a state of beginning decay.

While he waited for the Adventure Hall to reveal a task, the Great Hall shuddered once. Then a second and third time; the hall collapsed halfway amid a loud roar. The mist outside the hall churned, torn apart and dispersed by an invisible force. Bai Lang watched another invisible attack, which after passing through the mist became visible—a massive fist. The fist slammed onto the Adventure Hall, instantly sending shattered stone and wood flying everywhere.

Bai Lang dodged to the side; the soaring fragments carried terrifying power, and he thought even his innate Golden Bell Shield yang‑qi might struggle to block them. The Adventure Hall was covered with a special force, which Bai Lang knew; with his Innate Expert skills, though untested, he feared he could only smash a few bricks. "Someone finally came after the big boss behind the Adventure Hall? Hahaha! Beautiful! Well done! 666!"

Bai Lang, excited, hid behind to watch the demolition, but before he could enjoy it long, a flash of light whisked him to a new place.

He still kept the posture of hiding behind cover, but before him stretched a bustling street, crowds moving, everyone watching his moves. Bai Lang laughed heartily, patted his head and pretended nothing was wrong before walking away; being tall and broad‑shouldered, others didn't dare mock him, saying everyone was busy, so they let Bai Lang swagger off. "What era is this?" Bai Lang was uncertain, because the street clearly lay on the mainland, yet the period was impossible to judge.

"The shaved cow‑tail hair is from the late Qing, the faux Western‑style hair is also normal, but what's with this topknot? There are also loose hair, a Moxie cut, big pompadour, 'airplane' hair, all sorts of fashionable styles—I'm definitely in a film studio!" Bai Lang's hair, beard, and eyebrows were completely inconspicuous among these bizarre costumes; apart from his height, he blended in with the crowd.

Such a scene is usually only seen in a film studio, yet the shops on both sides looked nothing like props; they were genuinely opening for business, and Bai Lang saw no cameras, filming tracks, or any crew equipment. "Are they just… living?" While strolling, Bai Lang began to analyze the situation: this wasn't a film studio… but could it be a Truman Show? It didn't seem so.

Bai Lang saw traveling officials in typical Qing‑dynasty bureaucratic attire, seated in a sedan chair surrounded by attendants. He also saw foreigners—red‑eyed, green‑eyed Westerners—dressed in typical eighteenth‑ to nineteenth‑century European fashion. "How interesting… I'm starting to look forward to what kind of 'mission' awaits."