Chapter 481: Innate Technique — Dragon Snake Nine Transformations II

There was a rustling sound outside the door for a moment, then the footsteps faded away. Cheng Feng continued to stare at the first layer of the oral formula on the parchment, calculating back and forth in his mind.

The core of the first layer of the Dragon Snake Nine Transformations lies in reshaping the path of the meridians, changing the circulation of a regular Martial Artist to a route closer to that of a flood dragon.

This step carries no small risk; meridians are extremely fragile things, and one moment of carelessness could lead to a deviation in cultivation.

But the rewards are equally astonishing—once the first layer is mastered, the toughness of his entire meridian system will be elevated by a grade, meaning he will be able to withstand more violent Blood Qi and, later on, the impact of True Qi and even Gang Qi.

Cheng Feng took a deep breath, put the parchment away, and got up to fetch his meal from the doorway. Three dishes and one soup, the portions were very generous, and the taste was more than a little better than the canteen at the Imperial Guard Division.

He finished the food like a whirlwind, placed the bowls and dishes back at the door, and then stretched his muscles and bones in the room.

Start tonight.

He sat cross-legged on the bed, closed his eyes, and went over the oral formula of the first layer in his mind word by word, again and again, until he was sure every detail was etched into his heart.

Then, he mobilized the True Qi within his dantian and slowly pushed it along a meridian route he had never attempted before.

The moment the True Qi deviated from the habitual circulation path, a tearing, excruciating pain surged up from the depths of his meridians, as if countless steel needles were piercing the most sensitive parts of his body at once. Cheng Feng let out a muffled groan, and a layer of cold sweat instantly broke out on his forehead.

But he did not stop.

This bit of pain was still far from the burning agony he felt when he first consumed the flesh and blood of the giant python.

The Blood Qi pushed forward inch by inch; with every fraction of an inch it advanced, his meridians felt as if they were being forcibly torn apart and reconstructed.

But Cheng Feng could feel that, beneath the intense pain, the resilience of his meridians was indeed growing slowly, as if an invisible pair of hands were forging rough iron into fine steel.

A sleepless night.

At daybreak, Cheng Feng opened his eyes; his clothes were soaked through with sweat, sticking to his body, cold and sticky. But his eyes were startlingly bright—he had already cleared one-third of the first layer's meridian route.

At this speed, he could complete the entire foundation establishment of the first layer within three days.

Once he enters the door, things will be easy.

More importantly, he faintly sensed that the essence remaining from the flood dragon flesh and blood in his body was being guided by the Dragon Snake Nine Transformations technique, slowly merging into his meridians.

This technique was practically tailor-made for him.

Cheng Feng jumped off the bed and stretched his muscles and bones, his entire skeleton emitting a series of crackling sounds.

Truly, it is indescribably comfortable!!!

Cheng Feng walked into the courtyard and performed a set of basic Fist Techniques against the cold wind of the winter morning; every punch he threw carried a sharper wind-breaking sound than before.

Just as he was practicing vigorously, a sound of footsteps suddenly came from outside the courtyard gate, followed by the voice of the steward from yesterday, whose tone was a few degrees more urgent than the day before: "Young Master Cheng, His Highness has sent word for you to go to the Warm Pavilion right now."

"Now?" Cheng Feng stopped his punches and wiped the sweat from his face.

"Now." The steward's tone allowed for no negotiation.

Cheng Feng frowned, casually pulled over the outer robe hanging on the veranda to drape over himself, and followed the steward toward the Warm Pavilion.

On the way, he calculated in his mind—Wang Ji only gave him the technique yesterday, and is already in such a rush to summon him today; could it be that some change has occurred?

The door to the Warm Pavilion was ajar, and the steward announced him at the door before withdrawing.

Cheng Feng pushed the door open and entered, finding Wang Ji standing in front of the window, back turned to him, her fingers tapping unconsciously on the window lattice.

Cheng Feng had never seen this gesture before, but his intuition told him that Wang Ji was not in a good mood at the moment.

There was another person in the Warm Pavilion. A young man with a gentle face and a scholarly air sat in the guest seat, holding a cup of tea in his hands, sipping it slowly.

He was about twenty years old, wearing a blue long robe that looked simple, but the fabric of the robe shimmered with faint, dark patterns under the light coming through the window; it was definitely no ordinary item.

Seeing Cheng Feng arrive, he took the initiative to push a cup and offer tea, saying: "This must be Young Master Cheng, right? I am Liu Yu. Come, have some tea."

Cheng Feng cupped his hands and said: "Thank you, Young Master Liu."

Not knowing the identity of the newcomer, being polite is always for the best.

"You're here." Wang Ji turned around, the expression on her face having returned to her usual indifference. "Cheng Feng, the plan has changed."

Cheng Feng's heart tightened.

"News has come from the Martial Arts Tournament that the number of participants this time exceeds expectations, so the Great Zhou imperial family has temporarily changed the rules." Wang Ji walked to the main seat and sat down, signaling for Cheng Feng to sit as well.

"It was originally a one-on-one arena elimination system, but now it has been changed to a thirty-two-person group melee system. Only the top two from each group will advance to the next round."

Cheng Feng sat opposite the young man and frowned: "A thirty-two-person melee? Wouldn't that be—"

"Chaotic." Liu Yu finished the sentence for him, smiling.

"Thirty-two Martial Artists in a melee within one circle; no rules will apply. Strength, luck, alliances, betrayal—all factors will be mixed in. The ones who survive are the winners."

Wang Ji took over the conversation: "What's more troublesome is that after this rule came out, all factions have been frantically recruiting participating Martial Artists to form small groups. No matter how strong one person is, if they are besieged by thirty-one people, they will have to kneel. So, for the next month, we must also form a team in advance."

She looked at Cheng Feng, her tone unquestionable: "I have already decided on three candidates, plus you, that makes four. We are still missing one, and I have already sent people to contact them."

Cheng Feng's mind raced. A team melee meant the cruelty of the Martial Arts Tournament had directly multiplied several times over.

Those who come to the Martial Arts Tournament to seek the Immortal path must certainly sign a life-and-death contract.

Otherwise, Wang Ji would not have directly given him a technique that has a probability of ascending to the Innate realm.

But thinking about it from another angle, this might not be a bad thing for him—having Wang Ji's team as a backing is better than fighting alone.

"Who are the other three?" he asked.

Wang Ji said: "Liu Yu counts as one."

The side door of the Warm Pavilion was suddenly pushed open from the outside, and a voice drifted in ahead of the person: "One of them is me."

Cheng Feng looked toward the sound and saw a woman of about twenty-something leaning against the side door frame, dressed in black tight-fitting gear, with a narrow-bladed short knife hanging at her waist.

Her features were not stunning, but the wildness in her brows and eyes was unforgettable—like a female leopard ready to pounce on its prey at any moment.

"Huo Luan," Wang Ji introduced on her behalf, "from the Zhennan Prince Mansion, and also my cousin. Organ Refining Peak, skilled in close-quarters grappling, and her weapon is that short knife."

Huo Luan sat down in the chair next to Cheng Feng in a carefree manner, looked him up and down a few times, her gaze carrying undisguised curiosity and scrutiny: "You're the one who swallowed the giant python's flesh and didn't die? You don't look like anything special; I thought you'd be a monster with three heads and six arms."

"Luan'er." Wang Ji's tone sank slightly.

Huo Luan shrugged, but her mouth didn't stop: "Fine, fine, I'll stop. But cousin, are you sure he can hold up? A thirty-two-person melee is no joke; when the time comes, swords have no eyes, and I'm not responsible for saving anyone."

Cheng Feng smiled calmly: "Miss Huo, rest assured. Although I don't have three heads and six arms, I do have a few skills for saving my own life."