All Heavenly destiny reduced to ashes
Chapter 299 - 160 Lesser Yang Sword Great Achievement (1/3)

Chapter 299: Chapter 160 Lesser Yang Sword Great Achievement (1/3)

Embracing the Void, inspecting Ming City, the grand courtyard.

The sky began to lighten, late winter transitioning into early spring, the most unpredictable time of the year when the weather shifts abruptly, easily letting external evils invade the body.

By the window inside the house, a small stove glowed with a low fire, simmering a pot of soup that emanated an extra hint of warmth.

As dawn broke, An Jing opened his eyes.

He got up, lifted the lid of the iron pot on the little stove, and was immediately hit with the scent of herbs followed by the fragrance of meat.

This was a pot of ’Old Ginseng Stewed Dragon.’ Some special herbs, bamboo shoots, and mountain mushrooms had been added. Calculating the heat before sleeping to simmer slowly, by now the ingredients had turned perfectly tender.

An Jing casually picked up a piece of mountain mushroom and slowly chewed it, savoring the sweet, rich, and fresh taste. The umami of the chicken broth permeated the mushroom, hitting just the right note.

"True to my reputation, my cooking skills are gradually being restored," he remarked, without worrying about the heat, he directly started to devour the entire pot of ginseng chicken soup, not sparing even the bones, crushing and swallowing them all.

After finishing, he stepped outside and picked up a pair of purple-gold long maces, treating them as short swords.

An Jing took his stance facing the red sunrise just cresting over the eastern ridges, and began to practice.

The dim morning light scattered the mist and shone on his face. After a long period of disguise, the identity of Jing Xuan had become his second mask, giving the handsome youth’s clear and bright eyes a sense of vigorous vitality.

His right hand gripped the mace handle, raising it beside his left shoulder, while the left-hand mace hung low in front of his abdomen, guarding his chest and stomach. This was a defensive stance, ready to strike or slash at any moment, or even thrust and stab.

Yet An Jing didn’t make a move. He simply maintained his position motionless in the sunlight, his body and hands as steady as a statue.

Even though his torso and limbs were completely still, one could faintly sense an undercurrent surging beneath his skin. Amidst the roiling energy, his muscles were continuously writhing.

Lesser Yang Swordsmanship · Sea’s Morning Sun.

It involved treating the flesh and blood as the sea, the Inner Breath as the sun, circulating the sun within the sea to rise, transcending flesh and blood, and condensing Spirit Qi.

Feeling warmth throughout his body and a faint breath emerging from the pores, An Jing’s eyes sharpened, and he began to perform sword techniques.

It started slowly, but gradually sped up. The edgeless paired clubs swept through the air, bringing a sharp swishing sound that indicated he had reached a certain degree of proficiency.

He had the power, now came the finesse. Sword techniques abruptly varied—thrusting, stabbing, chopping, sliding, intercepting, stirring—transforming into a series of flowing radiance, even the sound of the wind changed, turning into a rushing howl.

The energy he generated whipped up a storm of dust across the courtyard, turning it into a tempest, while An Jing, at the center, burst with Essence Qi, like a rising sun radiating endless vitality.

After practicing for nearly half an hour, his breathing slightly labored. When the sun had fully risen, turning from the morning sun to full daylight, and a faint vapor rose from the top of his head, An Jing suddenly retracted his movements.

In an instant, the multiple afterimages merged into one, and with a shift in his stance, he thrust a mace towards an old tree riddled with scars beside him.

This move, channeling the Yang energy with the momentum of Lesser Yang, felt bright and clear, yet carried a mild and benevolent touch.

Hum!

To an onlooker, the mere random strike could have shattered a steel body, but an invisible power surged forth from the club and pierced right through the old tree.

The tree did not shatter, did not break, and did not sway.

It simply... slowly, at a pace visible to the naked eye...

sprouted a new bud.

"Not bad," An Jing said, approaching to carefully examine the new sprout, nodding with satisfaction. "Although it’s still a distance away from ’withered leaves greeting spring, dead wood bursting into new life,’ my Lesser Yang Swordsmanship has indeed reached a high level."

With Essence Qi as Yang, one could make flowers bloom amidst winter, harboring the birth of all things. Although he took advantage of the approach of spring, it was enough to illustrate the realm of An Jing’s Lesser Yang Swordsmanship.

Despite the recent busy days dealing with the trade between two realms, An Jing had never neglected his martial skills practice.

This is quite normal. The reason An Jing engaged in trade between realms was because he needed resources to cultivate, not to make money. Since he has already earned enough resources, naturally, he would focus on cultivation with a calm mind.

After becoming wealthy, An Jing’s daily diet comprised of a variety of precious ingredients, with dishes like old ginseng stewed dragon being considered ordinary, and never lacking in spirit beast meat.

By digesting a large amount of high-quality ingredients with the "One Qi Nourishing Body Art" and adding to that An Jing’s youth, the progress of his Lesser Yang Swordsmanship was advancing by leaps and bounds.

Lesser Yang, where a single yang begins to move. Regulating body and mind with sword techniques, focusing the mind and entering meditation with Sword Intent, leveraging the time of dawn and early morning when Yang energy is newly born, to catalyze and strengthen the operation of the body’s foundational Yang energy, which in turn refines the whole body, polishes the foundation, and nurtures a trace of True Yang Breath within the body.

If one can stimulate the circulation of the body’s Yang energy with sword moves and momentum during practice, then this swordsmanship can truly be said to be ingrained in one’s bones.

But this Yang energy can only burst forth and not be condensed; with one swing of the sword, the force is fierce and powerful for only a single blow. What’s more, the power, although great, is unfocused, like the sun shining everywhere, only capable of bringing warmth and unable to unleash its true power.

Only by twisting the hazy, mist-like Yang energy into a thread of True Yang Breath that can circulate endlessly within the body, like using a concave-convex lens to focus sunlight, can one scorch and harm others.

Only then can one be considered to have truly mastered the art and be capable of condensing the Divine Abnormality known as "Pupil Fire."

An Jing had completely mastered it; the reason he hadn’t begun to condense it was that he wanted to wait for Mingguang Dust to return and ask about any taboos or special requirements of the many Dharma Eyes of the Bright Mirror Sect and if possible, to receive guidance for his True Spirit Eye.

But there was a problem.

Nearly two months had passed since Mingguang Dust and Jin Yanhua, along with You Ruhui and the others, had left... and he still hadn’t returned.

"Has my master encountered some kind of trouble?"

As the dust from practicing swordsmanship slowly settled back into the courtyard, An Jing retracted his Essence Qi and Spirit Qi within his body, pondering with confusion, "Could it be that my Heavenly Mandate, coupled with the influence of You Ruhui’s Emperor’s Blood on the situation, has finally affected him?"

"No... I’m afraid my master must be someone with enemies everywhere. It is likely he really has encountered some trouble."

An Jing had a very high opinion of Mingguang Dust; the man had indeed taught him a great deal, a true mentor in imparting knowledge, resolving doubts, and teaching. If possible, An Jing certainly wanted to help him and hoped for his safety.

However, with Innate Wisdom and his experience of reading a wide variety of books in this lifetime, numerous possible tragic endings for the other party had emerged in his mind.

"Tch! Even if a Grandmaster of the Divine Repository really died in some other continent, he would at least leave me a message!"

"If worse comes to worst, I’ll just go back to the Northern Border alone! After all, my warehouse is piled with Thunder Beads, landmines, and self-destructing drones, and I have a token from my master. With the protection of a True Person’s Divine Skill, as long as I don’t encounter multiple Grandmasters or a Divine Repository Grandmaster on my way, no one can stop me!"

Shaking his head vigorously to dispel the negative thoughts, An Jing felt rather helpless in his heart, "It’s just... I can’t leave!"

In the courtyard, the Illusionary Light Formation was still in operation, and the Great Void Ritual Altar was prominently in place.

While An Jing resided here, others could not enter, nor could they break through the Illusionary Light Formation, naturally unaware of the presence of the Great Void Ritual Altar.

But if An Jing left, even if others came to clean up and tidy the place, they would discover a strange object in the center of the courtyard, one fathom in height, invisible and inaudible, yet tangible to touch.

By then, trouble would indeed be great—privately laying out a Great Void Formation within the boundaries of Da Chen was a grave crime that warranted the execution of three generations!

Though An Jing had long stopped caring about any three generations, being devoid of vulnerabilities, it would be somewhat inappropriate to discard a hard-earned identity for such an absurd reason.

And perhaps... it was some kind of premonition.

An Jing lifted his head to gaze at the distant mountain range.

The strong wind swept away the clouds and fog, and the golden rays of dawn shone over thousands of miles, casting a faint golden glow over the mountain range that lay like a horizon of sword blades, stirring up bursts of sharp, murderous energy.

Because of his excessively strong soul and spirit and heightened senses, An Jing could even detect a hint of blood in the golden light.

He murmured to himself, "It feels like trouble is coming..."

An Jing’s premonition was correct.

"Jing, Young Hero Jing!"

A moment later, the quiet morning streets were pierced by an urgent cry for help, "There’s big trouble at Youde Garden!"