Chapter 656 - 220: Time Passes, a Celestial Maiden Under the Moon

He had to set his sights higher. The most elite disciples of the five great sects, renowned True Qi Realm prodigies like Chen Chu of the Yunxiao Sect—those were the true goals he should pursue, the mountains he needed to surmount on his long journey of the Martial Dao.

Having come to this realization, Yang Jing felt the last trace of gloom vanish from his heart, leaving only pure determination.

He took a deep breath, his chest swelling slightly as he drew the dense Exotic Beast Musk aroma in the room deep into his lungs. The Inner Qi within him was instantly awakened. It began to circulate slowly in his Dantian, its speed gradually increasing.

With a single thought, the Heart Method of the Mountain-Breaking Seal flowed rapidly through his mind, every esoteric principle crystal clear.

"Hah!"

A low shout erupted from his throat as Yang Jing clenched his right fist. Wreathed in condensed Inner Qi, he violently struck forward.

The edge of his fist was ferocious, carrying the force to sunder mountains and shatter stone. It whistled sharply as it cut through the air, and the wind from the blow sent ripples through the room’s still atmosphere.

His movements were steady yet swift, each and every move following the methods of the Mountain-Breaking Seal: chopping, smashing, pounding, and ramming.

He put his full strength into every move. Inner Qi surged ceaselessly along his meridians to the edge of his fist, infusing each strike with immense power.

His chopping fist was like an ax, its momentum unstoppable. As it fell, one could almost hear the dull thud of shattering rock.

His smashing fist was like a hammer, incredibly heavy. The bluestone slabs beneath his feet seemed to vibrate from the impact, and fine stone dust jumped up from the cracks.

His pounding fist beat like a drum, its rhythm steady. The Inner Qi pulsed within him, perfectly synchronized with his movements and without the slightest hesitation.

His ramming fist was like a pillar, incomparably ferocious. It carried an unstoppable momentum, as if it could smash through any obstacle in its path.

Yang Jing’s figure weaved about the center of the stone room, his fists a blur as the wind from his punches whistled without end. He demonstrated the fierce and domineering nature of the Mountain-Breaking Seal to its fullest.

He wasn’t blindly pursuing brute force; there was skill hidden within the ferocity. His power generation for each move was incredibly precise—drawing Qi from his Dantian, channeling it through his waist and abdomen, to his shoulders and arms, and finally concentrating it at the edge of his fist, all in one smooth, unbroken motion that unleashed the full potential of his Inner Qi.

The transitions between his moves grew ever smoother. Before the force of one move could dissipate, the power for the next had already taken its place, leaving not the slightest opening.

He performed the entire set of techniques as smoothly as flowing water. Qi Force crisscrossed the air, and the wind from his fists seemed to stir up a small cyclone that spun around his body.

Beads of sweat gradually formed on his temples, sliding down to soak the collar of his training clothes. His arms began to ache from the continuous exertion.

But his eyes only grew brighter, and his movements did not slow in the slightest.

Every punch was a refinement of his own Inner Qi and a step toward a deeper understanding of the Mountain-Breaking Seal’s martial intent. He could clearly feel the Inner Qi in his Dantian growing more condensed with every strike.

Under the repeated scouring of his Qi Force, his meridians showed faint signs of widening—a clear indication that he was steadily advancing toward the Peak of Qi Eating Realm.

...

Morning mists gathered and dispersed, the moon rose and set over the mountains. In what felt like the blink of an eye, half a month had passed.

The sound of powerful fists cutting through the air still echoed from the B-grade Training Room Yang Jing rented daily, located in the training area on the slopes of Lingxi Peak.

He was intently focused on practicing the Mountain-Breaking Seal. His body was more agile than it had been half a month ago, and his movements were completely fluid.

Each punch he threw carried an even more condensed and ferocious Qi Force. His technique was more profound, now possessing a quality of effortless control it had previously lacked.

After another two hours of arduous training, Yang Jing abruptly retracted his fist and settled his breath. The turbulent Inner Qi throughout his body slowly returned to his Dantian.

He stopped his training. Beads of sweat rolled down his temples and the back of his neck, dripping from his chin onto the bluestone floor and spreading into small, dark patches.

His training clothes were soaked with sweat, clinging tightly to his body and clearly revealing the contours of his increasingly powerful muscles. The lines were fluid and full of strength, and every inch of his physique radiated the lean power of a Martial Artist.

With his eyelids lowered, Yang Jing carefully savored the gains from his training. His Inner Qi circulated slowly through his meridians, leaving a warm ache in its wake, yet also a feeling of clear, unobstructed flow.

He had not slacked off for a moment during this period of closed-door cultivation. The Inner Qi in his Dantian had become increasingly solid and rich, and his meridians had widened slightly under the repeated scouring of the Qi Force. Now, the Peak of Qi Eating Realm was within his grasp.

A thought from Yang Jing brought a panel into view, displaying the progress of his various martial arts.

[Mountain-Breaking Seal: Adept (1921/2000)]

[Indestructible True Skill - Level 2: Adept (681/2000)]

[River-Crossing: Adept (603/2000)]

Yang Jing thought to himself, ’At this rate, it won’t take more than a few days to reach the Peak of Qi Eating Realm.’

’Then I can start preparing to charge the Qi Absorption Realm and break through to the next level in one go!’

Yang Jing turned and walked to a corner of the Training Room, where he sat cross-legged on a padded cushion to rest and regulate his breathing.

Next to the cushion lay a plate of neatly sliced Rare Exotic Beast Meat. It was a faint crimson and glistened with a light sheen of fat.

Beside it stood a pot of warm tea, its aroma mingling with the savory scent of the Exotic Beast Meat and filling the room.

For the past half-month, to save time, he had been bringing the Exotic Beast Meat delivered daily from the kitchens directly into the Training Room.

When he trained to the point of exhaustion, he would eat a few pieces of meat to replenish his stamina and energy. That was his break. A moment later, he would dive back into his training, unwilling to waste even a second.

After resting for about a quarter of an hour, seventy to eighty percent of the Inner Qi in his Dantian had recovered.

The soreness in his body having eased, Yang Jing delayed no longer. He stood, wiped the sweat from his brow, walked back to the center of the Training Room, and assumed a horse stance to continue practicing the Mountain-Breaking Seal.

The wind from his fists began to howl once more. He repeated the ferocious techniques again and again, each repetition more precise and condensed than the last.

After practicing like this for over two hours straight, Yang Jing estimated it was getting late. Only then did he slowly withdraw his fists, let his Inner Qi return to his Dantian, and stop his training.

He tidied up the Training Room, gathering his scattered belongings. Then, he put on the outer robe that was draped to the side, picked up the meal box with the empty plate and water pot, and prepared to return to Qing No. 4 Courtyard.

Yang Jing pushed open the stone door of the Training Room. A cool night breeze rushed to meet him, carrying the fresh scent of mountain flora and blowing away the stifling heat that clung to his body.

It was completely dark outside. The sun had long since set, and only a faint crescent moon hung in the inky sky.

Its clear light spilled down, bathing the mountain path in silver. The distant forest was a mass of indistinct shadows, and the only sound was the quiet chirping of insects.

Yang Jing knew full well that he was only able to stay in the Training Room this late because of special treatment.

Had it been any other disciple, someone from the Training Room’s Affairs Department would have come to hurry them out long ago.

According to sect rules, after sunset, all training rooms—with the exception of the newly built, 24-hour A-grade Training Room—had to be tidied up, their Exotic Beast Musk Aroma replaced, and the grounds cleaned in preparation for the next day.

Not far away, a dim, yellow light shone through the window lattice of a small wooden cabin belonging to the Training Room’s Affairs Department.

The attendant, Zhang Jian, was leaning against the window, looking out. Seeing Yang Jing emerge from the Training Room, he breathed a sigh of relief, quickly pushed the door open, and came out. He waved, his tone respectful as he called out, "Take care, Senior Brother Yang!"

As long as Yang Jing didn’t leave, he had to wait there. Now that Yang Jing had come out, all he had to do was check the room, replace some of the Exotic Beast Musk Aroma, and then he could go rest.

Yang Jing smiled and nodded in acknowledgment; he was somewhat familiar with the attendant.

During a previous martial arts lecture on Lingxi Peak, he had offered some pointers to a few disciples, and this attendant had been one of them.

Ever since, the man had been quite respectful, showing him extra consideration and allowing him to stay in the Training Room late into the night.

Carrying the meal box, Yang Jing walked with steady steps along the mountain path toward Qing No. 4 Courtyard. Moonlight bathed his shoulders, and the aura around him was calm and solid.

As he walked, his gaze swept casually over the forest beside the path. He noticed that in the stone pavilion he passed by daily, a stone lamp was lit—something he had never seen before.

Standing silently within was a tall, aloof figure in white. The evening breeze rustled her robes, making her look like a celestial maiden under the hazy moonlight.

Yang Jing subconsciously stopped, taken aback by the figure’s cold, otherworldly aura. A look of stunned admiration flashed in his eyes, as if the surrounding moonlight and mountain breeze had paled in comparison.

He collected himself, his gaze slowly settling on her exquisitely beautiful face. The instant he saw her features clearly, a jolt shot through him, and he froze to the spot.