Chapter 21: Crazy!

“What do you mean, why?”

Jiang Ningan said matter-of-factly: “Didn’t your martial arts master tell you that before ascending the Heavenly Path, you can only choose one primary technique?”

Fang Can instinctively licked his dry, cracked lips: “No… no, is there such a rule?”

“How did your master teach you?” Jiang Ningan asked, puzzled. “Shouldn’t this basic knowledge be clarified before you shed your mortal form?”

Fang Can: …

Fang Can was numb—so even moving too fast was his fault now?

After all, Instructor Yang could never have imagined this guy would sense Qi in a single day; even the fastest would take at least half a month.

If someone told Yang Lie that Qi could be sensed in one day, he’d have firmly called it poetic nonsense.

Seeing Fang Can’s bewildered expression, Jiang Ningan patiently explained: “Shedding the mortal form means gradually adapting your body to the technique.”

“Each technique differs in content—Qi, internal force, true energy, magnetic force, battle aura, magic, culinary god cells… every sect’s scripture has its own uniqueness.”

“I see you cultivate blood and qi through martial training, while others must replace old blood through poetry—each martial art requires a different cultivation method.”

After hearing her explanation, Fang Can stood frozen for a long time, then finally asked: “Then what about the eighty-eight acupoints mentioned in my technique?”

“If you believe it, it exists. The most important thing in martial arts is the power of the mind. The Flip-Door sect’s technique requires accelerating friction between countless microscopic particles within the body to enhance physicality.”

“Depending on the technique, even within the Shedding the Mortal Form realm, there are qualitative differences. As for your technique’s eighty-eight acupoints…”

Here, Jiang Ningan shook her head—her meaning was clear: what a ridiculous technique, even fantasy wouldn’t dare imagine such nonsense.

As Jiang Ningan spoke, Fang Can felt as if he’d suddenly awakened—struck by lightning, standing rigid in place.

On his panel, his [Tiger Demon’s Eighty-Eight Heavenly Gates] flickered erratically, as if about to vanish entirely as his Dao heart shattered.

Just like the Great Zhou Tyrant who once embodied a celestial avatar, Fang Can now faced the danger of regression after Jiang Ningan shattered his Dao heart with a single remark.

Watching Fang Can, now stunned and pale, Jiang Ningan raised her clean, pale arm and waved it before his face:

“You… are you alright? Don’t be too discouraged. Though techniques have high and low tiers, don’t obsess—after ascending the Heavenly Path, this gap can still be bridged.”

Ignoring Jiang Ningan’s thoughts entirely, Fang Can’s entire worldview, forged over seven days of training, collapsed—replaced by a resolve born from destruction.

At this moment, Fang Can’s mind replayed the method of Tiger Demon’s Eighty-Eight Heavenly Gates, and the very first words Yang Lie had spoken.

“As long as you have heart, everyone can become a Martial God!”

“I get it!” Fang Can slammed his right fist into his palm, grinning with the look of one who had seen through all illusions:

“Martial arts is just nonsense! Mind is emptiness! What the hell is this Eighty-Eight Tiger Demon Heavenly Gates? I’m done with it.”

Watching the handsome, enthusiastic boy before her, Jiang Ningan worried—had her words driven him into delusion? If so, her guilt would be immense.

Watching Fang Can pace back and forth, muttering to himself, occasionally pounding his chest and stomping his feet, Jiang Ningan ventured cautiously: “You… what are you planning to do now?”

“What? Of course switch techniques.” Fang Can shook his head, his handsome face now utterly unhinged.

“Didn’t I just say—before ascending the Heavenly Path…”

Before Jiang Ningan could finish, she met Fang Can’s intense, fixed gaze.

“Have you heard the story of the Great Expansion Divine Lord?”

“I’ve already analyzed the Great Expansion Divine Lord’s story enough,” Jiang Ningan sighed.

Fang Can spoke slowly, firmly: “Then why can he turn Iron Wire Fist into Mahā Sūrya Divine Fist, but I can’t?”

“You want to compare yourself to the Great Expansion Divine Lord?” Jiang Ningan blurted out instinctively.

“What kind of divine lord is he, to even be mentioned in the same breath as me?” Fang Can dropped these words and stormed into the room.

“I’ve driven him mad,” Jiang Ningan felt overwhelming guilt, fearing he’d do something terrible. Ignoring her injury, she followed him inside, ready to watch over him at any moment.

Entering Fang Can’s tidy bedroom, she saw him pulling a metal box from under the bed, swiftly prying open the lid—inside were dozens of transparent pills.

“What is this…?” Jiang Ningan stared at the crystal-clear pills, puzzled.

Before she could react, Fang Can grabbed a handful—at least thirty or forty pills—and shoved them straight down his throat.

“You… what are you doing?” Jiang Ningan’s eyes widened, instinctively reaching to stop him—but was silenced by his feverish gaze.

Swallowing the white pills, Fang Can felt an unprecedented sense of crisis, yet still shook his head: “Not… not enough. Need to go harder.”

Thinking this, he turned to Jiang Ningan and ordered: “You… immediately break all four of my limbs. Wait—leave me one hand to request leave from school.”

“You… what?” Jiang Ningan naturally refused. Looking at the madman before her, she whispered for the first time: “Calm down. Don’t go out of control.”

“Calm? I’ve always been calm,” Fang Can said honestly.

Seeing the woman’s hesitation, Fang Can knew she wouldn’t help him. He walked straight to the living room, and under Jiang Ningan’s worried gaze, picked up a solid wooden baseball bat.

“If you don’t want me to report this to the authorities, just stand there and don’t interfere,” Fang Can said, raising the bat toward Jiang Ningan.

“You’re threatening me—” Jiang Ningan began, then abruptly fell silent, for she saw Fang Can swing the bat hard against his own leg.

“Crack!” A sharp snap echoed as the bat and Fang Can’s right leg broke simultaneously.

“Y-you y-you y-you…” Jiang Ningan stared at Fang Can, speechless with shock.

At this moment, she had no idea what he was doing—he was definitely insane. Yes, completely insane.

Fang Can ignored Jiang Ningan entirely, nodding at his broken right leg: “Good. This is how it should be.”

Without another word to the woman, he returned to the bedroom, muttered “Don’t disturb me,” and slammed the door shut with a bang.

As he’d said—he was done with Tiger Demon’s Eighty-Eight Heavenly Gates. For mind-based martial arts, why cling to common sense?

For mind-based martial arts, the absence of common sense is the greatest common sense!

If so, why not create a technique of his own?

(End of Chapter)