Chapter 99: The Master

Time flies swiftly.

After returning from the brothel, Li Hao was kept within the mansion by Li Tiangang, forbidden from wandering about.

The father and son had a minor argument over it, and finally compromised: Li Hao agreed to stay within the mansion, but his father would no longer interfere with what he did.

Li Tiangang agreed.

Li Hao no longer spent his days painting; instead, besides visiting Fifth Master to play chess, he spent all other time in Tingyu Tower.

One purpose was to wait for Second Master’s return; the other was to read through these cultivation manuals.

The books in Tingyu Tower were countless; even if one merely flipped through them, without rest day or night, it would take at least ten years to finish them all.

Originally, Li Hao had selected some manuals from the higher levels to cultivate, ignoring the lower tiers—but now he began from the bottom.

With his Sixth Stage Flesh Dao cultivation, he should have been able to cross into the Heaven-Man Realm, yet he was stuck here.

Li Hao planned to first comprehend the Master’s Heart before anything else.

Easy to say, hard to do.

What is a Master?

One who can establish a sect and forge his own path.

No one can teach a Master how to act, nor instruct him.

Not even the Three Immortal Achievements can—because every Master’s path is unique; though their realms are higher, they can only share their own experiences of advancement and cultivation, not precisely guide how one should proceed.

Likewise, once one reaches the Heaven-Man Master Realm, every step forward must be taken alone, one footfall at a time.

No manuals offer guidance; no one can transmit knowledge—only through self-reflection, contemplation, and insight.

“My own martial path...”

Li Hao sat in Tingyu Tower, holding a detailed treatise on martial basics, his eyes flickering.

He had asked Second Master how to comprehend the Master’s Heart.

Second Master gave three methods: first, immerse oneself in the world, and through worldly trials, find one’s martial heart.

Second, walk the edge of life and death; under the terror of imminent demise, trigger sudden enlightenment and leap forward in one bound.

The third is gentler, relying entirely on personal insight: seek it from the most fundamental martial arts.

Why the most basic? Because the higher the technique, the more mysterious it becomes—and its core essence is easily obscured by its intricate maneuvers.

Like a stone.

Tossed on the ground, everyone knows it’s a stone; thousands scorn it, trample it carelessly.

But placed on a table, it’s uncertain—especially if placed in a Buddhist shrine, where people protect it, worship it, and offer reverence.

Yet fundamentally, it’s still just a stone.

At this moment, Li Hao flipped through the Martial Arts Compendium, which listed many martial arts, but only briefly.

Swords, knives, spears, staves, fists, footwork...

Li Hao flipped through them casually, not forcing any insight, merely passing the time.

A month passed in the blink of an eye.

Li Hao had read many books in Tingyu Tower—not just martial arts, but also tales of eccentric individuals and amusing anecdotes.

Many volumes recorded the life stories of various Masters.

These Masters walked wildly divergent paths, each with unique martial styles.

Some followed the sneaky school: all their attacks were underhanded—eye-gouging, groin strikes, poison-dust, sand-throwing—anything deceitful, refined into seamless combos, forming entire manuals to establish sects.

Others followed the brute-force school: headstrong, direct combat, never feinting, every strike explosive.

Others followed the agility school: emphasizing lightness and nimbleness.

For Li Hao, creating his own martial art was not difficult.

With his Sixth Stage insight into sword and fist arts, crafting his own sword and fist techniques was effortless.

He could even fuse the two.

But the technique was ready—the heart was not.

Most people entering the Master Realm first establish their heart, then strengthen their techniques according to their Master’s Heart.

Li Hao did the opposite.

“Where is my heart...?”

Li Hao murmured to himself.

He had seen too many techniques, leaving him now overwhelmed, dazzled by their variety.

His heart remained unsettled.

One day, Li Hao came to Tingyu Tower as usual.

But after sitting down briefly, he was summoned back to Shanhe Courtyard—something required his attention.

When Li Hao returned to the courtyard, he immediately saw in the main hall, besides his father Li Tiangang seated there, another girl’s figure sitting opposite him.

The girl spoke with his father, her back turned outward.

Dressed in dark purple outerwear, she radiated an aura of mystery, like a fragrant orchid in solitude.

Merely her straight posture conveyed youthful vitality.

At that moment, the two seemed to have reached some point—Li Tiangang’s face was full of smiles, his gaze warm and tender.

Reaching the doorway, Li Hao remembered the rules he’d been forced to learn this month, and did not enter directly; instead, he stopped outside and called out.

Li Tiangang looked toward Li Hao, and at the same time, the girl, who had been facing away, turned around.

Her eyebrows were like distant ink-wash mountains, her eyes clear as a bright stream, her nose delicate, teeth white, fine hairs on her face faintly glowing, her skin as pure as jade.

Li Hao stared, momentarily stunned, then widened his eyes.

“Xue’er?”

“Hao-gege.”

The girl recognized Li Hao too; memories flooded her heart, and she smiled brightly, calling out in a clear, sweet voice.

Li Hao finally confirmed—the girl before him was the little girl he hadn’t seen in eight years, the little tail who used to follow him.

He stepped forward quickly, amazed, studying her from head to toe; eight years had turned the once tearful girl into a young lady.

And her features were exquisite, as if sculpted by hand.

“You’ve grown so big,” Li Hao blurted out a needless remark.

The girl was Bian Ruxue; she rose from her chair with graceful poise and smiled sweetly: “Hao-gege, you’ve grown much taller too.”

“Of course.”

Li Hao grinned: “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming back? Have you eaten? Let me tell you, my cooking’s gotten excellent—within a few months, I’ll turn you into a fatty!”

Bian Ruxue’s cheeks flushed slightly: “Hao-gege, you’re still so fond of joking.”

“Who else would you be? You used to cry all the time—I had to tease you.” “I’m not a puppy.”

Li Hao laughed loudly, then asked: “How’s your sword training? Did anyone bully you?”

Bian Ruxue smiled and shook her head: “My master and senior brothers and sisters treated me well—no one bullied me.”

“Good.”

“What about you, Hao-gege? How have you been these past years?”

Bian Ruxue asked, her eyes fixed on Li Hao.

Li Hao grinned: “Of course I’ve been fine—look who you’re talking to. Only I bully others—who dares bully me? I eat, drink, and live happily every day.”

Li Tiangang frowned slightly, sighing inwardly.

Bian Ruxue gazed at Li Hao and whispered: “Hao-gege, stop joking.”

Li Tiangang’s face hardened slightly: “Hao’er, be serious. Xue’er just returned—don’t you dare bully her.”

“Alright, alright.”

Li Hao sighed with a smile.

Bian Ruxue immediately turned to Li Tiangang: “Uncle, Hao-gege has never bullied me.”

Li Tiangang looked at her, smiling: “Xue’er, you’re too gentle. Don’t worry—I’m back now. If Hao’er dares bully you, come straight to me—I’ll handle it.”

“When your father entrusted you to me all those years ago, I vowed to care for you—no one will ever make you suffer the slightest injustice in our Li household!”

“Thank you, Uncle.”

Bian Ruxue bowed slightly with a smile, then turned to Li Hao—and noticed his smile had suddenly dimmed.

She didn’t think much of it, and said to Li Tiangang: “Uncle, I’d like to go out for a walk with Hao-gege—just to talk alone.”

“Fine, go ahead.”

Li Tiangang nodded with a smile.

Bian Ruxue bowed slightly again, then turned to Li Hao: “Hao-gege, let’s go. I haven’t been back in a long time—will you show me around?”

Li Hao nodded, then paused, glancing up at his father seated above: “I’ll take Xue’er out for a walk?”

Li Tiangang nodded: “With Xue’er accompanying you, I’m at ease. Spend these days enjoying yourself with her.”

Li Hao’s lips twitched, then he grabbed Bian Ruxue’s hand: “Come on—I’ll show you the city. Every delicious eatery in Qingzhou—I know them all.”

The soft hand in his grip twitched slightly, as if startled—but soon relaxed, letting him hold it.

As they walked away, Li Tiangang sighed softly: “Though Hao’er has spent these years without us, he’s lived well enough—but no one’s disciplined him; his nature is too wild.”

Zhao Bo opened his mouth slightly, then closed it again.

Li Tiangang’s gaze softened: “Thankfully, Xue’er is well-mannered and sensible. With her by his side from now on, she’ll surely rein him in a little—I can rest easy. This boy finding Xue’er? He’s truly blessed.”

After leaving the Divine General’s Mansion, Li Hao led the girl beside him straight toward the bustling nearby district.

“Big Brother Hao, I just found out Uncle came back only recently.”

Bian Ruxue let Li Hao hold her hand without struggling, her cheeks slightly flushed, her eyes occasionally glancing at his profile: “After I left, were you always alone?”

Li Hao smiled. “Foolish girl, why are you still as naive as when you were a child? Shanhe Academy is huge—there are so many retainers and maids. How could I be alone?”

“Retainers and maids are different,” Bian Ruxue said. “Big Brother Hao would never confide in them.”

“Then don’t confide,” Li Hao chuckled.

Bian Ruxue fell silent for a moment. “Does not speaking make you feel uneasy?”

“I’m used to it.”

Li Hao brought Bian Ruxue to a sugar-painting stall. “Want some candy?”

Bian Ruxue glanced at it and shook her head slightly. “Big Brother Hao, I’m grown up now.”

“You’re only fourteen and you call yourself grown up? By twenty, you’ll be old.”

Seeing she didn’t want candy, Li Hao took her to keep wandering.

On the way, he found a toy stall and bought her an iron frog—one that could keep hopping forward with a light press, a product of the Qianji Sect.

As they strolled and chatted, Li Hao asked about her life on the mountain over the years, and Bian Ruxue inquired about his days at the Academy.

When mealtime came, Li Hao found a restaurant and ate with her, continuing their conversation.

Eight years apart meant much to discuss; at first they were slightly awkward, but later Li Hao seemed to regain the feeling of their childhood.

“When did you come down the mountain?”

“A month ago,” Bian Ruxue said.

Li Hao was surprised. “Then why only return now?”

“I heard strange things happening somewhere, so I went to investigate—it turned out a Mo River had seeped through and destroyed a whole village,” Bian Ruxue said.

Li Hao nodded. “And then?”

“I tried repeatedly, but I could only destroy it—I couldn’t pass through.”

Li Hao laughed. “Destroying it is still good—it at least makes it disappear for now.”

Bian Ruxue sighed softly and nodded. “I suppose.”

Li Hao noticed the sword at her side, always with her. “How’s your swordplay after all these years under the Sword Saint?”

Bian Ruxue froze slightly, then fell silent for a moment before saying, “It’s fine.”

Seeing her reaction, Li Hao chuckled. “What, did you get scolded for not improving? Why the gloom when I mention the sword?”

Bian Ruxue shook her head slightly and set the sword aside. “Big Brother Hao, let’s not talk about the sword anymore. I just found out you’re about to become the Li Clan’s True Dragon. I asked around on the way—I heard another contender is vying for it. Do you have a chance?”

“What do you think?” Li Hao asked.

Seeing how relaxed Li Hao was, Bian Ruxue immediately said, “I think you do.”

“I think so too.”

Li Hao smiled and picked up some food for her.

“By the way, on the way I saw many important figures heading toward Qingzhou. I heard the True Dragon selection requires influence.”

Bian Ruxue said, “Big Brother Hao, should I call down Master and the others to support you?”

“Influence is just a minor detail—it doesn’t matter. The Li Clan’s True Dragon won’t be decided by outsiders,” Li Hao laughed.

Bian Ruxue thought it over and nodded. “Alright then. If you need me to do anything, be sure to tell me.”

“Actually, there is something you can do.”

“What?” Bian Ruxue blinked.

“I’m full. You finish the rest. Don’t waste food,” Li Hao burped, leaning back comfortably in his chair.

Bian Ruxue was momentarily speechless.

(End of Chapter)