Chapter 54: Light-Foot Technique

Wang Feiyin: “Talking about this now is to tell you: beyond the sky lies higher sky, beyond people lie greater people. With your current cultivation, if you go out and cause trouble, you’ll be chopped up like vegetables.”

He spoke with solemn gravity: “So remember this: when you’re outside, if you can’t judge someone’s cultivation level, don’t dare test them. Don’t show off or act proud in daily life—avoid provoking envy or hatred. If you don’t test others, what if they test you?”

Miao He immediately grew anxious: “Then what do we do if we run into someone like that?”

Wang Feiyin said: “Remember this mantra.”

Miao Zhen and Miao He listened intently. Wang Feiyin said: “First endure, second yield, third act.”

Miao Zhen asked cautiously: “What if we meet someone your master said exists beyond us—and we can’t beat them?”

Wang Feiyin’s expression turned grave: “Run!”

Pan Xiao, crouched by the door, ears perked, lay back on her paws and let out a disdainful “meow.”

Wang Feiyin turned, glanced at the black cat, then said to Miao Zhen and Miao He: “Don’t listen to this little black one. This is my decades of life experience—I’ve never taught it to anyone except your master and your shu.”

Miao Zhen and Miao He: …

Pan Yun: “Big brother is absolutely right.”

Miao Zhen and Miao He immediately turned—and only then noticed Pan Yun had emerged from meditation, sitting cross-legged, listening with intense focus.

Pan Yun said seriously to Miao Zhen and Miao He: “So while other arts matter, our first priority is footwork. If you run fast enough, you live longer. If you live long enough, everything becomes possible.”

Wang Feiyin slapped his thigh as if he’d found a kindred soul: “Little fifth sister, you’re the only one who understands me! When I taught this mantra to your three senior brothers and sisters, they all scoffed—only after suffering losses did they begin to listen.”

Pan Yun asked at once: “Big brother, does our Mount Sanqing have any good footwork techniques?”

“Of course there are one or two,” Wang Feiyin said. “The most powerful is the Seven Stars Footwork that Miao Zhen is learning now—it mirrors the seven stars of heaven, flowing like starlight, making you impossible to grasp or strike. Then there’s the Ethereal Step.”

Pan Yun gazed at him with longing: “And what else?”

Wang Feiyin scolded her: “Do you think powerful light-foot techniques are vegetables at the market? That’s it—no more. For Mount Sanqing to have even these two is already remarkable.”

Pan Yun asked Wang Feiyin to demonstrate right then and there.

Wang Feiyin didn’t refuse. He rose and said: “It’s late. Make sure you see clearly.”

Not just Pan Yun, but Miao Zhen and Miao He also nodded eagerly, their little heads nearly bobbing off.

All three had sharp eyes. Though only faint starlight pierced the darkness, once their vision adjusted, they could still make out shapes dimly.

Wang Feiyin flashed away, moments later stepping on leaves and vanishing into tree shadows, his figure ethereal as a celestial being—now visible, now gone. Where his feet touched leaves, it was as if a gentle breeze had brushed the treetops…

The three girls’ eyes lit up. They chased after Wang Feiyin. His voice drifted far behind: “This is the Ethereal Step.”

He glided over leaf tips; the three instantly lost sight of him. Pan Yun’s ears twitched. She whirled around—Wang Feiyin had just landed behind them.

Miao Zhen and Miao He turned with Pan Yun, saw their master circling back to them, and gasped in awe: “Wow!”

Pan Yun clapped excitedly: “Amazing, amazing! Ordinary light-foot techniques can fool my spiritual sense!”

Miao Zhen and Miao He joined her in excited clapping.

Pan Yun’s eyes gleamed: “What about the Seven Stars Footwork?”

Wang Feiyin: “The Seven Stars Footwork requires a training partner to grasp its subtleties. Little sister, why don’t you attack me?”

Pan Yun: “Since Big Brother insists, I won’t refuse.”

As her words ended, Pan Yun lunged forward. She knew few martial techniques—only two were her forte: Military Boxing and Basic Ancient Martial Moves, both learned in school.

The Basic Ancient Martial Moves included fundamentals of palm, fist, sword, spear, halberd, and other weapons.

She began learning at third grade and continued until university graduation.

But with only two lessons a week, she truly learned only the basics.

When executing moves, she channeled spiritual power directly.

Knowing Wang Feiyin’s high cultivation, she held nothing back—launching Military Boxing, each strike aimed at his vital points.

Wang Feiyin kept his hands behind his back. As she punched, he leaned back, feet glued to the ground, dodging her force by tilting his head. He moved like a free-swinging compass—foot planted, body swaying, spinning midair, slipping past Pan Yun’s attack, then stepping lightly to stand behind her.

Pan Yun didn’t pause. Without turning, her next strike came. Wang Feiyin stepped back, then surged forward again—once more slipping past her.

When Pan Yun finished her entire fist set, she was drenched in sweat—yet had not touched even the hem of his robe. She’d used spiritual power, moved fast, struck fast.

She realized: Wang Feiyin hadn’t used any internal strength at all. He’d dodged her entirely with footwork alone.

Pan Yun froze.

Wang Feiyin stroked his beard proudly: “Well? Is your internal qi not omnipotent, is it?”

Pan Yun moved her hand, formed a seal, and asked: “What if I replace martial moves with spells?” Wang Feiyin smiled: “Try it.”

At his words, Pan Yun instantly cast a spell—a streak of spiritual light shot toward Wang Feiyin with a hiss.

Though startled by the speed of her spell, he still evaded effortlessly, moving with ease.

He stepped back two paces. Grass surged upward, coiling toward his feet. He didn’t look—just shifted direction the instant the grass rose. Though he stood plainly before Pan Yun, he slipped like flowing light, impossible to grasp.

Sensing she was predicting his next step based on his last, he changed his footwork entirely.

Pan Yun couldn’t anticipate. She could only attack based on his turning direction—but somehow, one moment he was before her, the next behind; one moment directly left, the next thirty degrees off…

Unpredictable. Completely unpredictable.

Pan Yun struck him for twenty minutes, breath ragged, panting as she leaned on her knees, while he remained light, calm, and composed.

Pan Yun: “...You didn’t use spiritual power.”

Wang Feiyin smiled lightly: “Even an ordinary man before you, if he masters the Seven Stars Footwork, you won’t land a hit—at least not with your current ability.”

Pan Yun: “There are only seven stars. Why so many variations?”

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Wang Feiyin: “Do you know how many variations seven stars can form?”

Pan Yun paused, thoughtful: “Permutations? Five thousand and forty.”

Wang Feiyin, about to reveal the answer, stopped. Then nodded: “Yes. Five thousand and forty. Can you guess which point I’ll step to next?”

Pan Yun rushed forward, grabbing Wang Feiyin’s hand: “Big Brother! I want to learn this!”

It was the most infuriating light-foot technique imaginable—visible but untouchable. The Ethereal Step lets you flee. The Seven Stars Footwork lets you drive others mad.

Her eyes sparkled as she devised another use: “Big Brother, we should make this a mandatory sect technique. Believe me—once you learn the Seven Stars Footwork, even if you can’t defeat your opponent, you’ll anger them to death.”

“Look at me—I’m so gentle, so broad-minded—and even I nearly died of rage in twenty minutes. Those narrow-minded people out there? They’ll die of anger before I do.”

Wang Feiyin: …

Though Miao He was also excited, she glanced at Miao Zhen and mustered her courage to speak: “Little Auntie, I don’t want to learn it.”

Pan Yun turned, frowning: “Why? It’s such a great technique.”

Miao He: “Because I can’t learn it.”

She nearly cried: “The Seven Stars Footwork is too hard. To master it, you must first learn how to arrange the seven stars.”

Wang Feiyin added: “Don’t pressure Miao He. If you want to learn, I’ll teach you tomorrow. Miao He will learn the Ethereal Step.”

Wang Feiyin glanced at Miao He’s belly and said cruelly: “Miao He, you need to lose weight. The Ethereal Step requires you to first learn how to float.”

Miao He patted her belly, muttering: “Do I really have to fly? My steps are already fast enough.”

Pan Yun liked Miao He’s baby fat. She glanced at her belly, felt a pang of sympathy, and thought a moment: “I know another light-foot technique—Shadow Step. It suits Miao He better.”

“Oh?” Wang Feiyin grew interested. “How so?”

“Easy to learn. Doesn’t require much floating. As the name implies, it’s swift as a shadow—equally elusive. Most importantly: even fat people can learn it.”

Shadow Step wasn’t from school textbooks—it was a technique Pan Yun exchanged for contribution points at the National Museum.

It was among the most popular high-level footwork techniques precisely because it didn’t discriminate—fat people could learn it. Even the lame could learn it.

Precisely because of its inclusiveness, its exchange cost was very high.

Wang Feiyin heard this and immediately reached out: “Let me try.”

Now it was Pan Yun who fled. She kicked back, leaping two or three zhang away, then kept running, legs pumping like a startled deer…

Then smoothly turned, sprinting into the mountains—swiftly vanishing. So fast that when Wang Feiyin lunged to strike, he only cut through a shadow. Pan Yun vanished with a hiss. In the dim night, all they caught was her lingering afterimage.

Indeed—Shadow Step.

Everyone: …

Pan Yun soon zipped back, exhaled, wiped sweat from her brow: “This technique has one flaw—it consumes stamina and spiritual power. Oh, you don’t have spiritual power yet—so it’s your internal qi.”

“But Miao He, you’re so energetic—you’ve got more stamina than anyone. Train hard, build more internal qi—you’ll have more than enough.”

Miao He gasped: “I’ll train this! I’ll train this!”

The lucky number for this chapter is any number ending in 8. Screenshot as proof.

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(End of chapter)