Chapter 45

At this moment, the Wang-surnamed Daoist had already reacted, hurriedly explaining:

"Senior Zhuang, the little Daoist does not know them"

Zhuang Buran smiled and waved his hand:

"No problem, you wait aside for a moment."

"Yes." The Wang-surnamed Daoist quickly stepped aside.

"Do you know how long we have struggled for today?" Yang Guo said expressionlessly:

"King Zhuang Yanluo, thanks to you, I lost my father at three, my mother at eleven, and have spent my life hiding east and west."

"From your tone, you have deep feelings for Yang Kang; it seems you accompanied him until age three, thus such father‑son affection." Zhuang Buran wore a calm expression.

"My father indeed deserved his fate, but my mother was innocent; fearing you would come after us, she dragged me around, toiling day and night for a livelihood, and finally fell ill and died."

"After all this, you merely wish to avenge the so‑called grudge against your parents." Zhuang Buran's gaze fell on Wu Xiuwen and the others:

"You few, your martial aptitude cannot match his, nor your inner strength his depth—why would you insist on seeking death?"

"King Zhuang Yanluo, you actually look down on us like this." Wu Dunru gritted his teeth: "How could you know to what extent we have forsaken sleep and food in our quest to avenge the blood feud?"

"Really? I really cannot see it in you few." Zhuang Buran shifted his gaze to Yang Guo, speaking lightly:

"Clearly it was a sudden whim, not his usual painstaking scheming—he first sneaked into the Quanzhen Sect, obtained the skill I left behind, then hid away, painstakingly training for decades, finally feeling he had accomplished something, and thus came to avenge his grudge."

"Now you show up with a broken‑arm guise, clearly planning to strike a vicious blow when I am off guard."

Upon hearing this, everyone involuntarily looked at the cold‑faced Yang Guo.

"How did you discover it?"

"You intend to kill me with the skill I created, yet you ask me how I discovered it." Zhuang Buran said, speechless:

"You are just as naïve as your father."

Yang Guo fell silent; white qi burst from his body, his black hair instantly turned white, his eyes gradually faded to white, and then his empty sleeves shot out an arm.

Zhuang Buran nodded:

"Not bad; you have brought the second level to the point of mastery."

"Hmph, the 'Reverse Life Threefold' you created is merely a martial art that looks like a celestial scripture, with only some special abilities; it's really nothing remarkable, and becoming an immortal is just a foolish daydream."

Yang Guo mocked:

"The so‑called third level—turning the whole body's qi into primordial qi, hoping to ascend to immortality and reach a transcendent‑saint state—is merely an unattainable dream."

"When I first devised this skill, it was a bored fancy; you actually believed it!" The blue‑robed youth chuckled lightly.

"I must say, your luck is truly not bad—you managed to avoid crippling yourself or dying while practicing."

Yang Guo furrowed his brows:

"The way of martial arts tolerates no carelessness, yet you still indulge in random fantasies."

"What does crippling or dying in practice have to do with me?" Zhuang Buran seemed puzzled:

"I have never forced anyone to practice the skill I created."

"Indeed, the so‑called immortal is merely your outward garb; the demon is your true nature." Yang Guo said coldly.

Zhuang Buran smirked:

"From the start, I have said I am not a virtuous good person, so what talk of a savior immortal?"

As the words fell, Wu Xiuwen and the others suddenly stiffened; with a few "bang bang bang" sounds, they all collapsed unable to rise.

"Tsk tsk, I told you why you shouldn't come seeking death, yet you refuse advice—truly, good words cannot persuade the damned; mercy does not save those who destroy themselves."

Yang Guo's eyes flickered; he saw a blood hole inexplicably appear in each of their throats, while he himself felt nothing, his heart surging involuntarily.

"Do you know that the second level of the Reverse Life Threefold is like a path?" Zhuang Buran said softly:

"A path that seems never to end."

He appeared before Yang Guo as if teleporting, and with a casual strike sent him flying ten zhang away; fortunately he timely used a thousand‑jin weight, dropping to half‑kneel before coughing up a large mouthful of blood.

"Having just passed the second level, one can repel all evils, avoid all illnesses; when practiced deeply, one can on the spot regenerate a severed arm."

Suddenly, the blue‑robed youth appeared beside Yang Guo again, kicked out, and sent his whole body flying, snapping seven or eight large trees.

"And when one nears the point of glimpsing the third level, the scenery changes again."

"After all, you are still in the second‑level realm; I simply don't believe I cannot defeat you."

Yang Guo, deeply buried among broken branches and leaves, let out a roar, lashed out fiercely, and the stout broken trunks around him shot like arrows toward the blue‑robed youth.

Zhuang Buran's qi surged, and each stout trunk turned to powder and scattered.

At this moment, Yang Guo's qi underwent a great change; his eyes seemed to hold thousands of grudges and hatreds, so intense he almost wanted to chew through his gums.

His figure swayed, his whole body trembling, as if fallen into a demonic state; he rushed forward, striking the blue‑robed youth with successive palms.

His technique differed greatly from ordinary martial arts; the moves were not particularly showy, relying entirely on inner force—his palm surged like waves, one crest following another, each higher, so each palm stroke grew stronger than the last.

Zhuang Buran wore a lazy smile; as he stepped, he dodged each attack, and after Yang Guo finished his barrage, he slowly unleashed a palm.

The palm force turned into an arc, spreading downward like a dome, covering all around with no escape.

Yang Guo's pupils shook; before he could react, that slap knocked him flat to the ground.

Not only was the Reverse Life state shattered, his limbs went limp, his dantian qi sea became unstable, his inner force scattered throughout his body as if he had suddenly gone mad with deviation, blood faintly appearing in his seven apertures.

Thus, no matter how he struggled, he could not rise from the ground.

"Your palm technique is not bad; it is mind directing arm, arm directing palm, wholly governed by intent—the stronger the hatred, the greater the power; in terms of mighty force, it is not inferior to the Subduing Dragon Palm."

Zhuang Buran clasped his hands behind his back and sighed lightly:

"Yet I feel you are learning everything from me—aside from possessing a matchless inner force as if trained in the vast sea, you have also created a fierce, domineering palm method; unaware that those who study me live, while those who resemble me die."

"How could this be, how could this be" Yang Guo lay on the ground, as if unable to accept reality, muttering repeatedly:

"How could you so easily overcome me when I have clearly entered the second level of Reverse Life; the stability of my dantian is not something external forces can readily disturb."

He let out a low, furious roar:

Zhuang Yanluo, did you tamper with the skill manual, you despicable shameless villain?

Reverse Life is merely a technique for cultivating life and destiny; it is not truly the Dao of refining humans into qi.

The youth in blue robes said gently:

Zhuang striking you is like a strong adult bullying a baby; shaking your upper dantian, undoing your Reverse Life—this is simply easy, why would I need to resort to tricks?

Absurd, we're both at the second level—how can you be so much stronger than me? Yang Guo's eyes were filled with bloodshot.

Ah, foolish child. Zhuang Buran sighed: "Just because you're lying down while I'm still standing!"

Having said that, his foot trembled, a force like a sudden mountain flood, vast and unstoppable, pierced through Yang Guo's skull.

Immortals cannot save the lifeless; King Yan specially collects those with lingering resentment.

The youth in blue robes flicked his sleeve, turned and walked back to the bamboo lodge, casually throwing out a line:

"Little Daoist, please tidy up."

The Daoist surnamed Wang in the distance suddenly came to his senses and hastily agreed.

(End of chapter)