Chapter 165: with translation of chapter title

In a daze, Feng Yi felt his body light and floating; at times like a feather drifting in the air, at times like a small boat rising and falling in the waves, occasionally striking a reef.

He clearly felt pain all over, yet was dazed and unable to open his eyes.

I don't know how long passed; finally regaining some awareness, he heard a rumbling water sound directly into his ears.

Feng Yi opened his eyes and saw a waterfall pouring from the peak, like thunder spraying snow; between the steep cliffs a protruding stone caused the waterfall to split and fall, making a booming sound at the impact.

Feng Yi turned his head and looked around; all sides were raw logs standing in rows, the mountain walls on both sides straight and sheer, dangerous cliffs towering, the waterfall fell into a depression gathering water into a pool, reflecting the mountain's lush greenery, clear and blue like a mirror, with some unnamed flowers and plants dotted about, serene and tranquil.

Suddenly feeling sore all over, he opened his clothes to see his body covered in bruises, and saw himself lying on a stone by the pool's edge.

Feng Yi suddenly realized he had abruptly lost his strength; weakened, a rain of arrows came, the system brought him here just like last time, falling from the sky, landing exactly in the deep pool; his body must have struck something like a stone at the bottom, swept by the current to the pool's edge.

Although he wore the silkworm armor, not dying was truly fortunate.

After all, he didn't die from the fall, but could have drowned!

Feng Yi closed his eyes and took a deep breath, as if feeling this long-lost natural scenery; after a while he calmed himself, closed his eyes and began to cultivate.

Though there is a faint sensation inside, it is no longer like before when intention moves qi and moves the limbs; and in his lower abdomen's qi sea, there is a feeling of blockage and stagnation, like piled stones, only thread-like breaths.

To know, martial experts defeat enemies relying on the body's interconnected meridians gathering scattered qi from everywhere into the qi sea dantian, like gathering water into rivers and rivers into sea to concentrate the body's potential, then issuing it along the meridians of the limbs to apply to fists and feet or attach to weapons.

The difference is merely that an ordinary martial artist's dantian internal breath is like scattered water droplets converging into a stream, extremely thin.

Like Feng Yi, a high-level practitioner's dantian internal breath has the momentum of shocking waves and raging surges; only such fullness enables abilities like injuring with flying flowers or striking a cow from a mountain, beyond ordinary people.

But now Feng Yi's internal breath is only a thread of qi; the divine illumination true qi he relied on to show off and pick up girls has vanished completely, and even the internal energy from the Blood Saber Classic is nowhere to be found.

Feng Yi understood that the system had stripped him of all the power he gained through it; his current thread of dantian qi is merely from when he, out of arrogance, did not rely on the system but cultivated the Nine Yin True Classic himself.

But his ability to quickly master the Nine Yin Divine Skill then was entirely due to the nurturing of Divine Illumination Skill and Blood Saber Classic; now losing those two foundations, the internal energy gained from cultivating the Nine Yin True Classic also melts like snow.

Now his internal energy is less than a tenth of what it used to be.

Fortunately he understands one principle.

There is no free lunch in the world.

If someone gives you everything without asking for anything in return, you at least must obey; that is the basic requirement.

Put bluntly, those who painstakingly cultivate you want a dog that obeys orders, not a person with his own ideas.

Taking Feng Yi himself as an example, if he promoted someone from society's bottom to the top, yet that person did not heed his words, acted according to his own ideas and even opposed him, he would have to take back everything he gave.

To knock him back into the dust would be mild; more likely it would make him suffer a miserable death.

Thus Feng Yi not only bears no grudge, he is even grateful; at the very least it let him live and enjoy things he once dared not imagine.

Defeating the toughest guy, sleeping with several beautiful women, killing an emperor famous in history.

Which of these is not something he dared not even think of!

But although Feng Yi does not resent his current situation, he understands that in the end one must rely on oneself.

As the saying goes, relying on mountains leads to their collapse; this is no deceit.

Feng Yi immediately recalled the cultivation method of Divine Illumination Skill; he could still remember it, including the Blood Saber Classic, likewise.

However, things like Dragon Elephant Prajna Skill and Jade Maiden Heart Sutra have left no memory in his mind.

Feng Yi immediately understood that Divine Illumination Skill and Blood Saber Classic, which he always used to defeat enemies, had already become muscle memory.

But Dragon Elephant Prajna Skill and such, he never practiced; he merely relied on the system to record them, and now "System Brother" flipped his face and directly erased them.

It gave no chance to find a loophole.

Feng Yi deeply knows the system can let him transmigrate; it must involve gods, buddhas, ghosts and monsters, so having such ability is reasonable.

But recalling that he collected divine arts to forge a new path in martial arts, now unimplemented and hope cut off, Feng Yi feels resentful, wishing to catch the system's creator and give him a beating.

However, Feng Yi can only think; right now he follows the Divine Illumination Skill cultivation route and feels he can still draw heavenly-earth essence via the method to replenish internal energy. But to recover to his former level, how long would it take?

After all, Ding Dian achieved merit completion in twelve years!

How long must he take?

Not having figured this out, feeling his stomach growl, Feng Yi also didn't rush to cultivate; he first struggled to rise.

Yet feeling weak all over, he only circulated qi three times, regained a bit of strength, stood up, and wanted to find something to eat.

He walked a circuit and discovered this is a secluded valley; afar, springs gush and torrents spray; nearby, mist rises, flowers scatter like jade shards, truly beautiful!

Feng Yi couldn't help thinking: "Here bright mountains and lovely waters, verdant forests and clear skies, truly a paradise beyond the world!"

But who could know that I suddenly came from the bloody battlefield to here; likely everyone thinks I turned to yellow water. I also don't know how many would mourn for me; and those few women?

But thinking that in the original plot they all died, yet now they are alive, whether they grieve or not seems less important.

Feng Yi stood dazed for a while, after picking and eating a few wild fruits from the tree, he felt his hunger rise even more; he walked to the pool's edge and saw dozens of large fish swimming back and forth in the emerald-green water.

Feng Yi felt his body; the Blood Saber and Golden Dragon Whip were both gone, presumably at the last moment they could not be held, thus lost.

Feng Yi lacked internal energy, but his commonly used martial arts were still clear in mind; he immediately broke off a branch, waited quietly by the pool, and when a large fish swam near the surface, he flicked his wrist and thrust swiftly, hitting the fish's body.

Feng Yi slit the fish's belly, washed out the intestines, then gathered some dry twigs; his pouch was not lost, he took out a piece of oiled paper and retrieved the fire striker inside.

He lit a fire, roasted the fish, ate it in a few bites, wiped his mouth, and then considered whether to stay or leave.

Although with his first-layer internal energy plus martial arts ordinary people are no match, he is used to being strong, and besides he does not know what kind of world this is.

He immediately decided to train, at least needing forty to fifty percent of his power before leaving the mountain.

Feng Yi deeply knows that in one's lifetime the period when one can most accumulate knowledge and store energy is the dull years before fame.

Once famous, all that faces are life-and-death crises; where is there time to train? He found a cave as a dwelling, and on the walls carved Divine Illumination Skill, Nine Yin True Classic, Blood Saber Classic and other martial arts.

He feared something might happen causing him to forget, so while clear-headed he left a backup copy.

Merely to increase internal energy, whether cultivating Divine Illumination Skill or Nine Yin True Classic, with his aptitude likely needs ten or eight years to achieve any significant progress.

Reliance on others is inferior to reliance on self; that is a correct principle, but easy to say, hard to do!

Feng Yi stepped out of the cave; the mountain wind brushing past sounded like neighing iron horses in the empty valley; the stream appeared and disappeared among the tree gaps, murmuring along; his heart stirred, and he entered the rushing torrent waterfall with spray flying everywhere.

That rumbling sound like galloping thunder, Feng Yi thought: "Yang Guo can do it; I have no excuse not to!"

He intends to emulate Yang Guo, or perhaps Dugu Qiubai.

Feng Yi never thought of looking for Dugu Qubai's burial place in the Condor Heroes world, because the snake gallbladder was of little use to him at that time.

After all, with his internal force at that time, he was at the top of a hundred-foot pole, unable to advance further; as for sword practice, it was utterly meaningless, merely training under the mountain flood and waterfall.

Such places are not unique there. Therefore, everything about Dugu Qubai was unnecessary for him.

But now, for someone like him who lacks substantial strength, training under the mountain flood and waterfall is not a bad way to quickly increase internal force.

After all, "swift and elusive" and "forceful and ponderous" are the two orthodox paths in martial arts.

Hence the sayings that among all martial arts, speed cannot be defeated, and that one force can overcome ten gatherings.

Both are correct, with no superiority between them; it depends only on the practitioner's level of attainment.

But all of this is based on internal force. So Feng Yi wanted to train his striking ability in the rapids of the waterfall to enhance his internal force.

Feng Yi thought for a moment, his external wounds not yet healed, so he rested a few days, meanwhile observing the waterfall and contemplating how to train.

At the mountainside is a flat area several zhang square. The waterfall falls, gathering water into a pool; the pool bottom has an undercurrent draining water, never full nor dry year-round, but at a point three zhang below the waterfall's drop there is a protruding rock.

If one stood on that rock, enduring the waterfall's impact while practicing martial arts, throwing punches and palms would be most suitable, but with his current internal force, he estimated he could not stand firm.

But he had experienced much of the world, his will was resolute; since he had decided, he had to go ahead and do it.

Three days later, Feng Yi felt his bones and muscles no longer ached, so he directly leapt and jumped into the waterfall.

As soon as he landed, he used Nine Yin internal force to perform the Thousand-Jin Drop, standing firmly on the rock, yet under the waterfall's furious rush and impact, his body kept falling straight into the stream.

This is a great waterfall; without internal energy, lightness skill, and external skill all reaching the highest level, not to mention throwing a punch, just entering the water would be swept away by the waterfall.

For this, Feng Yi had anticipated it; he crawled out of the stream, walked up, then jumped down again, repeating the cycle.

From initially being unable to stand, to being able to stand firm, it took him a month straight, but wanting to oppose the waterfall with palms and punches was beyond his strength.

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Nevertheless, he also felt his internal force greatly increase, now having about twenty percent of his former strength.

A flicker of joy crossed Feng Yi's face; he reckoned that strength growth was not something achieved in a short time, and although he seemed to have increased his internal force by ten percent, that level was unattainable for an ordinary person in a lifetime, thus it could be called divine speed.

Originally, this pattern of behavior inherently stimulates the body's limitless potential; Feng Yi's internal force may have been lost, but he once gathered all supreme arts into one body, united yin and yang into the ultimate, his body's spiritual perception of worldly things and his ability to draw the essence of heaven and earth are beyond others' reach.

Now, having distanced himself from the tumultuous mortal world, communicating with nature in utmost tranquility, his internal force naturally advances swiftly.

Feng Yi, aside from eating and resting, devoted himself wholeheartedly to training; after he could stand firm in the rushing waterfall, he had already comprehended the method of condensing qi and exerting force beneath the waterfall.

He used the Thousand-Jin Drop technique to plant himself firmly on the rock, standing unmoving, launching the Shadowless Divine Fist against the water's force, each time training himself to exhaustion before stopping.

Repeating this, practicing twice daily in the morning and afternoon, in less than a month he felt his internal force greatly increase; the force of his upward striking punch could actually splash the downstream torrent's water in all directions, momentarily almost creating a reverse flow.

Originally the Shadowless Divine Fist was merely fast, its strength far inferior to the Eighteen Dragon-Subduing Palms or Iron Palm; but practicing it under the waterfall not only increased his speed, his strength also grew.

Compared to before, this is a major breakthrough; as his internal force grows later, its power will rise even further.

Feng Yi also felt that his current internal force allowed him to master the external peak supreme art, the Eighteen Dragon-Subduing Palms; this is an external supreme art, which from outside inward better promotes his internal force, so he began to train palm techniques in the waterfall as well.

Spring passes, autumn comes, years flow like water.

In the blink of an eye two years passed; Feng Yi persisted day and night, through cold and heat without pause.

That day, Feng Yi suddenly felt a surge of force pierce through all his meridians; he hastily leapt out of the pool, just climbed onto the rock, when his interior exploded and his whole body felt as if it would burst.

Feng Yi nearly fainted; after a while, feeling no pain, upon lifting his true qi he sensed his true qi full and lively within, reaching the point where he could direct it at will, qi flowing through all apertures.

A divine light flashed in Feng Yi's eyes; he violently leapt up, threw a punch, with a "crack" a tree trunk as thick as a bowl snapped in two, one end hitting the ground, dust and smoke rising.

Feng Yi involuntarily let out a long, resonant whistle, stirring and clanging like a great hammer striking a drum; forest birds took flight, the myriad trees trembled, the empty valley echoed.

Overjoyed, Feng Yi shouted; his internal breath continued to flow smoothly throughout his body without obstruction, because he had cultivated the Nine Yin Divine Art to the realm where Dragon and Tiger converge, so the meridians and acupuncture points that his breath could not reach before are now unobstructed.

Although the Divine Illumination Skill is powerful, it cannot be attained through diligent practice alone; therefore he now focuses single-mindedly on the Nine Yin Divine Art.

Feng Yi reckoned his internal force was not as rich as before, yet he already had seventy to eighty percent; combined with his martial arts, as long as he did not encounter demons and monsters, it was sufficient for self-defense.

Feng Yi immediately returned to the cave, and on the stone wall wrote with a stone: "I came to this place purely by accident, managed to scrape by and survive, and further received heaven's favor. Though I lack the bearing of a heavenly being, I yet wish to open a new realm in martial arts and achieve an extraordinary feat for the ages."

Though unyielding despite setbacks, roaming the world and defeating all its masters, occasionally gaining leisure, it is but an empty dream.

Although dwelling in the martial world, he glimpsed courtly affairs; doing good cannot be from start to finish, doing evil he dare not fully indulge, occasionally pretending profundity and putting on airs, yet he never displayed any world-shaking merit.

Alas, past events fade like smoke in the wind; this feeling and scene are hard to bear; where are the later generations now? They also inherit my will to write splendid years. The god of the wind's innermost heart transforms into pure radiance sprinkled upon the world.

While training, Feng Yi also thought about the time of departure, and pretended to be imposing, leaving it for later generations to speculate.

At that moment, feeling proud and satisfied, he strode out with long steps toward outside the valley.

Over these two years, Feng Yi had long surveyed the surroundings; this place is utterly deserted, he knows nothing, yet now he wishes to see the outside world, and naturally it is not hard to find a way out.

Feng Yi crossed mountains and ridges; only at noon did he find a main road, then he wanted to go to a market town, first inquire, to see what era this is.

Soon he heard the clatter of hooves on the road; before long, a dozen or so horses came galloping up.

Feng Yi now did not know the foundations of this world, fearing to provoke trouble he could not handle, he turned his body and furtively glanced at the riders; they were all armed, their attire and appearance showed no great difference from those he had seen in the Condor Heroes world.

After walking a while, he again heard hoofbeats; three or five riders galloped by, and he heard one say: "Elder Brother Han, the 'Yama's Foe' Divine Doctor Xue suddenly issued a grand hero's invitation, inviting all martial artists far and wide, the situation again this urgent, saying 'Heroes who see the invitation, please come.' Do you know why?"

Upon hearing this, Feng Yi felt a flicker of joy, thinking: "Could it be the Heavenly Dragon world?"

Although there are many experts in the Heavenly Dragon world, Feng Yi had already set his mind at ease; aside from the sweeping monk whom he estimates he cannot overcome, others, no matter how formidable, might not necessarily be able to harm him.

He thought: "The Heroes' Manor is about to have a fight; I ought to go see, and also take the chance to witness this world's so-called heroes and good fellows."

He immediately headed toward those people and followed them; along the way, more and more martial arts figures appeared, all rushing to the Heroes' Manor to attend the hero feast.

Feng Yi glanced at his attire; he had no weapon, not resembling a martial hero, so he immediately procured a sword in a small town and hung it at his waist.

Following the martial artists to the Heroes' Manor, from afar he already heard a din of noise.

This hero feast was a temporary invitation; the issued posts were nameless, bearing no guest names, anyone who saw it got a share; as long as one was a martial artist, all were welcome.

Therefore, although Feng Yi lacked fame, seeing his forehead with a strand of white hair, his angular face bearing a hint of weathered color, his gaze especially spirited, not only clean but also somewhat composed, and with a sword at his waist, they also let him in.

Merely unaware of his background, the manor's lord did not greet him; only the receptionist led him in.

Entering the great hall, he saw it already packed shoulder to shoulder with people, voices coming from all directions.

But the receptionist, seeing no one greeting Feng Yi, and he himself not greeting anyone, evidently a nobody, placed him in a corner.

Those seated here were all insignificant figures in the martial world; Feng Yi paid them no mind, having devoted two years wholeheartedly to training, his mouth practically tasteless, he only wanted to have a proper meal and drink.

Moreover, those who sat at his table were not only strangers to each other, but also of low standing, so no one dared to comment on his conduct.

"That bastard Qiao Feng said he would come to Zhu Xian Zhuang to take part in the Heroes' Grand Banquet."

As soon as that person spoke, the crowd immediately stirred.

In the hall, everyone had been engaged in loud discussion and debate, the noise buzzing, when suddenly everyone fell silent.

Feng Yi was about to lift a cup of wine to his mouth, but he didn't dare to drink; in such an atmosphere, there was no need to show off.

Because the speaker hadn't even finished his words, he stopped abruptly, and in an instant the hall fell utterly silent.

Yet the clamor from the rear hall and the chatter from the corridors drifted in from afar.

Seeing this, Feng Yi couldn't help but sigh: "No wonder, after his reputation suddenly fell, everyone wants him dead!"

(End of chapter)