Chapter 757: Manifested Sage

The host was trembling—not out of fear but excitement, and he mustered the courage to approach the Heavenly Night Yaksha Bai Lang, "Mr. Bai." Bai Lang stretched his arms, resting them on the sofa back, his right leg bent with the ankle on his left knee, sitting in this wide‑open posture, "Yo, now you call me Mr. Bai? Fine, what do you want to say?"

"This martial art?" the host stammered, unable to speak clearly; overexcitement made him like that. Moreover, the audience was chattering, and even a fool rushed down and knelt before Bai Lang, "Please, Master, accept me as a disciple!" The scene was rather chaotic, but Bai Lang only smiled—just a smile was enough.

"Martial art? What I just demonstrated is called a martial art. The Sky‑splitting Palm Force? It's pretty awesome," Bai Lang said in a very odd tone. "Learning a martial art is, of course, for strengthening the body. Do you think Internal Force is fake? If you achieve the innate stage, you can live at least 120 years, maybe even 180 without problem."

"Illness? Hehe, illness can be suppressed with Internal Force. If that doesn't work, go find the one on Penglai Mountain and ask for a celestial pill that makes you immune to all diseases. Speaking of which, if you're on Penglai Mountain, just staying there lets you live 145 years, and eating some celestial fruit can easily let you reach three or four hundred years," Bai Lang's words also revealed many secrets.

It seems that Qianshan Zhenren isn't the type to avoid trouble and seek seclusion; he's just a scum who rolls around in the mortal world. Bai Lang even thought that if a goddess‑like female star slept with him, perhaps this Zhenren would casually hand over a celestial pill. "Why make it so complicated? Just give money and that's enough," a voice rang in Bai Lang's mind, "Sure enough, Divine Sense is being used to spy on others, that thief‑like immortal." Bai Lang cursed him inwardly as well.

After that, Bai Lang never mentioned how to practice the martial art. He simply reached out, his four fingers together and curved with the thumb forming a dragon‑claw shape, and a bottle of cola about ten meters away flew into his hand with a swoosh. "This is the Dragon‑Capturing Force," he said. Bai Lang opened the cola and took a sip. "Is this program still being filmed? If not, I'm leaving. I guess today I, the old master, will be eliminated."

Bai Lang put his foot down, stood up, and prepared to leave. As for the guys who knelt before him begging to be taken as disciples, he didn't even glance at them. Teach what? There's nothing to teach, unless Bai Lang opens the cosmic gateway for them and directly brings them to the innate stage. How could he possibly do that? Of course there's nothing he can teach. As for whether the police will list him as a suspect in a murder case, if there's no evidence, never mind.

When Bai Lang went to leave, no one in the studio dared to stop him. Even Liu Na, whose eyes had briefly flickered with the intention of grabbing Bai Lang's arm to leave together, froze in place after a half‑smiling, half‑scornful glance from him. Bai Lang stepped out of the studio door and walked normally, even when he got back into the car driven by Wei Yang, he moved normally—without using any Lightness Skill to dash away.

The commotion he caused was already enough; Penglai Island may be wondrous, but nothing compares to a truly eminent mortal martial‑arts master. On the way back by car, Bai Lang could already sense at least a dozen cars tailing him, and his shabby rented building was surrounded by watchful eyes. "Next, the officials will come to make contact," Bai Lang thought.

Wei Yang looked at Bai Lang, "Can you… which…?" Bai Lang brutally crushed Wei Yang's fantasy, "Impossible. You don't have that talent." he told him. "If it were that easy, martial‑arts masters would be walking the streets, and now, being the only one, you should understand that this is a one‑in‑ten‑thousands chance."

Bai Lang soothed Wei Yang with a benevolent lie, though he could still see Wei Yang's disappointment. "In any case, no one in this world can successfully cultivate; on that point, everyone is equal," Bai Lang thought.

He did not expect that the official body coming to contact him would be the Martial Arts Association. This organization, although a subsidiary of the National Sports Federation, and the federation in practice is part of the government, so indeed a government department was approaching Bai Lang. The Martial Arts Association sent a man and a woman; Bai Lang was convinced that they certainly were not members of the association yesterday.

Anyway, they first flattered Bai Lang's martial arts, making small talk. They must have analyzed Bai Lang's previous statements overnight; in front of him they never mentioned any national sport, only some traditional martial arts—neither Sanda nor the post‑founding standardized routines were brought up. Bai Lang also laughed and chatted with them about these completely off‑topic matters.

"Praying Mantis Fist? Tai Chi? Hahaha, there's no such thing; you'd be better off using the martial arts from wuxia novels—can Praying Mantis Fist or Tai Chi unleash a Sky‑splitting Palm Force? Can they turn both hands into blades that cut through anything? Or can they be impervious to swords, spears, water, fire? Moreover…" Bai Lang extended his palm, and in an instant the palm was engulfed in raging fire.

"Although I haven't really practiced my Three‑Fire Return‑to‑Origin Skill, a single palm strike with fire energy can scorch the wooden door of this room to ash in the blink of an eye—no problem at all. So you can imagine even more miraculous things, hahaha," Bai Lang said proudly. "The martial arts I practice, you already mentioned: the Golden Bell Shield, which is just the Thirteen Tai Bao Golden Bell Shield. And also the Southern Dipper White Tiger Fist; some sect relies on these two divine skills to cultivate themselves to the Martial God realm."

Bai Lang's expression remained a half‑smile, and his words were completely forthright. The man before him was a middle‑aged, unremarkable fellow; the woman was relatively young and quite attractive. These two were certainly cunning, because they were fully aware that Bai Lang had seen through their true identities, yet they could still continue the conversation without a change of demeanor.

Bai Lang knew clearly that the crucial question they wanted to ask was about the massive island he called Penglai, and the so‑called immortality; whether his cultivated martial arts could be taught was a secondary matter. Bai Lang adopted a more relaxed posture, indicating that they should also relax, "Let's be open. The real thing you want to ask is the Penglai Island and the 'immortals' on it, right?"

Without waiting for them to either admit or deny, Bai Lang continued, "The entire Penglai Island is Qianshan Zhenren's abode—yes, the Penglai of the classic Shanhaijing and other ancient Chinese myths. It truly hosts exotic flowers, rare herbs, precious birds and beasts that are now virtually extinct, and of course it teems with immortal spirit energy—if I have to explain, just think of it as air saturated with energy. On Penglai Island, true immortality is possible; many bodily illnesses can be cured—bringing the dead back to life, turning flesh into white bone, that's the power of an immortal, right? Hahaha."