Nothing particularly noteworthy happened over the following two weeks. Feng Qi's new life consisted of waking up every morning to a breakfast he had never tasted before—not even back when his father was still alive. Afterward, he studied under the tutelage of several masters alongside the other servants. Before noon, he consumed medicinal pills, refining his body and strengthening his foundation.
In the afternoons, numerous guards, servants, and officials gathered in the military courtyard, spending the rest of the day training and uncovering hidden secrets and techniques.
Feng Qi now followed Luo Zixuan's steps and strikes. Over the past few weeks, he had improved tremendously. The clumsy movements and awkward strikes that had once characterized his training had been corrected by Zixuan and the more experienced disciples.
Now, his strikes, footwork, and movements flowed with the precision of a true warrior.
At the end of the day, Zixuan suddenly stopped.
The sun kissed the horizon as Luo Zixuan took several steps back, his gaze seeming to pierce straight into Feng Qi's soul. Bathed in amber light and elongated shadows, the arena seemed smaller, as though Zixuan's presence had compressed the entire space around them.
"From this moment onward, there will be no more lessons. Only confrontations," Luo Zixuan declared, his voice firm, devoid of excitement yet imbued with absolute authority.
Feng Qi nodded, feeling the weight of the decision. He knew he had reached the limit of his abilities. His techniques were powerful, comparable to those of a Seventh-Layer Warrior, but he was about to face someone who relied on far more than brute strength. Luo Zixuan was a living encyclopedia of combat, observation, and strategy.
The arena fell into deathly silence, as though not a single living soul remained. The wind blew gently, tugging at the edges of their robes and stirring the branches overhead.
With an almost imperceptible movement, Luo Zixuan advanced. The first exchange was silent and swift—a test of reflexes. Feng Qi leaped backward, dodging strikes that were not meant to injure him, but rather to map the patterns of his body and breathing. Every step, every movement of Luo Zixuan's hands seemed to adjust the gravity, the wind, and even the arena itself.
Feng Qi counterattacked with a series of strikes, combining strength and speed. His fists cut through the air, while his legs moved as though the arena itself extended from his body. Yet with every attack, Luo Zixuan flowed like water—never meeting force head-on, only redirecting it. A strike that seemed devastating was deflected with the tip of a finger; another was repelled by a subtle twist of the wrist, almost imperceptible to the eye.
"You rely too heavily on strength. True power lies in perceiving the emptiness between attacks," Luo Zixuan whispered as his sword sent Feng Qi staggering backward.
Despite weeks of relentless sword training, Feng Qi, now wielding the blade like a true warrior, still felt like a child before Zixuan. Frustration grew within him, but with every movement, he learned, even if he did not fully understand what he was learning. Every step Luo Zixuan took demonstrated something that neither strength nor speed could overcome. Experience, absolute precision, and the ability to anticipate the flow of battle determined victory.
At the climax of the duel, Feng Qi launched one final attack—a combination of strength and technique that would normally crush any opponent. Yet with a simple movement of his body and a light touch of his hand against the ground, Luo Zixuan disrupted Feng Qi's rhythm, throwing him off balance and sending him crashing down.
Feng Qi fell to his knees, breathing heavily, but his chest swelled with respect and admiration. Luo Zixuan remained motionless, solid and unshakable—a living wall protecting Bai Lan and everyone under his charge.
"Strength is not what wins a battle, Zhao Long. It is perception, patience, and adaptation. Today, you learned that," Zixuan said. "To protect our young lady, only a warrior with an indomitable heart can do so. Only the mind can bridge the gap between you and your enemies. Even if your body is pierced by spears or your limbs severed, as long as your mind remains steadfast, the battle continues. Victory will remain within your reach. Understand this."
The arena remained silent, with only the wind lightly brushing against their black robes. The day had ended, but Zixuan's lesson remained. Strength was merely one fragment of the path; true mastery resided in the mind that guided it.
Feng Qi looked at him, realizing that although his power rivaled that of a Seventh-Level warrior, within the arena, the world bowed before Luo Zixuan's experience and technique—a guardian who not only protected those under his care, but also shaped and guided them.
"You are indeed stronger than I am. Your body is as hard as stone, and my hands ache as though I had struck iron. But what you lack is not strength or endurance... It is your mind," Luo Zixuan said.
At that moment, something within Feng Qi opened.
A light of understanding rose within him like a staircase, and above it, he glimpsed a sky far greater than he had ever imagined. What he lacked, he realized, was experience. In the arenas of the city, he had started on the right path, but he had become distracted by tools and techniques. No one could attain true enlightenment without first understanding their own mind.
"I understand... Now I understand," Feng Qi murmured, kneeling with his head lowered.
There was no trace of sadness. This was enlightenment.
He felt an urgent need to learn, a burning passion, a calling that could not be extinguished. Nothing could shake his determination.
His chest rose and fell, his breathing gradually calming as he processed every movement Luo Zixuan had made in his mind. Every strike and subtle shift still danced around him as though he could feel the air bending around the guardian.
Zixuan said nothing at first. He approached, his black cloak fluttering in the breeze, and gently placed a hand on Feng Qi's shoulder. The contact was firm yet calm—a silent affirmation that Feng Qi remained unbroken and that the lesson had been conveyed without humiliation.
"Stand up, Zhao Long," he ordered, his voice calm yet heavy with weight and expectation.
Feng Qi obeyed, his body still aching, but his mind more alert than ever. He briefly closed his eyes, recalling every step, every dodge, every subtle touch from Zixuan. Slowly, he reconstructed the movements in his mind, imagining not merely how to avoid them, but how to internalize the essence of energy flow, balance, and anticipation.
"Brute strength merely opens the way. True technique creates it," he murmured to himself, repeating Zixuan's words.
With his breathing under control, Feng Qi advanced, assuming the stance Zixuan had used to throw him off balance. He shifted his feet, adjusted his shoulders, and felt the wind brush against the invisible blade of perception. Every movement sought the intersection between strength and technique—not to defeat Luo Zixuan, but to test himself.
Zixuan watched in silence, his eyes attentive, but he did not intervene. This was no longer a test; it was the transmission of knowledge. The guardian allowed Feng Qi to learn through practice, absorbing the rhythm and precision that only years of experience could teach.
When Feng Qi executed the final step, combining speed with anticipation, Luo Zixuan showed the faintest hint of a smile and stepped back, allowing Feng Qi to feel the emptiness left behind by the guardian's subtle shift in body position.
"Very good," Luo Zixuan said, his voice firm yet approving. "You did not succeed through strength, but by understanding the rhythm. That is the difference between talent and mastery."
Feng Qi drew a deep breath as clarity coursed through his body and mind. For the first time, he realized that strength was merely superficial. The true path of a cultivator required perception, synchronization, and adaptation.
As night descended upon the arena, Luo Zixuan walked away, maintaining the unwavering bearing of a guardian. Feng Qi felt a change within himself—his respect for his mentor mingling with newly acquired confidence and profound gratitude.
At dawn, Feng Qi donned the official attire of the Mansion—not the humble clothes he had worn before. The black garment, cinched with crimson ties, was made from a rare and expensive fabric beyond the reach of ordinary markets.
He and the two bodyguards escorted a beautiful young woman to the main hall of the mansion.
Throughout the week, Feng Qi remembered Bai Lan's promise to teach him the Azure Wave Steps, but she had yet to fulfill it. He longed to master those steps completely. Although Luo Zixuan's techniques incorporated traces of the Azure Wave, Feng Qi still needed to master the art in its entirety.
Despite losing his duel against Luo Zixuan, Feng Qi could now contend with Eighth-Level warriors. Only the Guardian remained undefeated at the top—a true monster.
His cultivation had reached a bottleneck about a week earlier. Since then, he had focused on refining and consolidating his foundation, waiting for an opportunity to break through to the Fifth Layer.
Over the past few days, Feng Qi had accompanied the young woman to many places without incident. But today, something changed.
"What is it you wish to say?" Bai Lan asked, her expression grim.
Standing before her was her father, holding a stack of documents. He crumpled a letter he had just finished reading, his expression darkening.
Recently, Bai Lan had been invited by the Great Tian Family to attend an important ancestral ceremony honoring Tian Zhenyu, while the Han Family had simultaneously sent her a marriage proposal.
Although this might have pleased Bai Tianheng, the Han Family was no more welcome than the Tian Family. Both were allies, constantly scheming to use their power against him.
The two families controlled a portion of Qingyao City and maintained connections with influential figures within the Chenyang Empire. Monopolies, violations of the law, bribery, and an extensive network of black-market trade all fell under their control.
Within Qingyao, the Han and Tian Families were among the most powerful forces. Many of their members specialized in Qi Condensation, while some elders had even reached the Core Formation Realm.
The governor still maintained a degree of control through his ties to the Imperial Court, but he feared unforeseen developments. Now, the joint maneuvering of the Han and Tian Families suggested collusion. Even a child could see that something deeper was at play.
"Of course I'm going to refuse!" Bai Tianheng exclaimed.
"But Father, I heard that Tian Ming has connections with high-ranking officials and maintains cooperative relationships with them. He could secure his monopoly over the city's markets and gradually undermine our influence... Even the Black Market is under their control. With eighty percent of the Han Family's forces under their control, they could place us in a precarious position," Bai Lan explained.
"Those bastards!" Bai Tianheng roared. "I'm sorry, my daughter. If you had powerful guards back then, things would never have reached this point."
Months before Feng Qi's arrival, Bai Lan had already been harassed by the Han Family, even becoming the target of a member who claimed to have fallen in love with her at first sight.
"That scoundrel is shamelessly lying! Han Yucheng is doomed!" Bai Lan shouted. "Someone is orchestrating this from behind the scenes, trying to unite our families and undermine our control over the city."
"The real problem is Tian Ming," Bai Tianheng said. "He is your age, yet he is already extraordinary. His cultivation is at the Fourth Level of Qi Refinement, and he commands respect among the Great Families. With the support of his father, Tian Wenzhao, he maintains commercial and diplomatic ties with high-ranking officials... This is a serious concern."
The goal of both families was simple: to control Qingyao and the surrounding plains. To achieve this, they sought the power held by the Bai Family—the Imperial Seal.
If they succeeded, they could gradually establish a new reign under the watchful eye of the Empire, aided by corrupt officials.
The Imperial Court itself was in decline, challenged by the rise of immortal cultivators and the Northern Sects, while its authority continued to weaken. Traitors seeking easy wealth would be the first to orchestrate a coup.
Even the maneuvers of Qingyao's Great Families were likely being orchestrated by another invisible hand.
At that moment, Feng Qi was neither training nor strengthening his foundation, but he was far from idle. He absorbed the secrets and mysteries permeating the region. He now understood that there were no Nascent Soul cultivators in the Southern Region, although traces of Golden Core cultivators still remained.
Overall, the strength of the Southern Region was weak compared to the rest of the continent. After one year of service to the Governor, Feng Qi planned to leave for the Empire, where he could advance to Qi Refinement or Qi Condensation before returning south.
Feng Qi studied and observed the state of the world. Surrounded by countless books in the outer pavilions, he also had access to privileged and secret information as the governor's daughter's bodyguard.
"There is a cultivation realm beyond the Nascent Soul Realm, known as Soul Transformation. While a Nascent Soul can briefly leave the body, a Soul Transformation cultivator can abandon their own body and occupy another," Feng Qi pondered, his eyes fixed on the father and daughter. "There are no records of a higher realm, so I presume this is the extent of the Shanyue Continent's power."
There were many continents in the world, most of them poorly documented. The most important and possibly the strongest, Tianlu, lay adjacent to Shanyue, having had only sporadic contact with it over the past ten thousand years.
"Although I still don't understand the limits of cultivation, I am certain that there is a realm above Soul Transformation... It will take time to reach it, but it is not impossible!"
Feng Qi's heart overflowed with an unusual confidence. He feared the world and its mysteries, yet he longed to explore it and ascend to unimaginable heights.
Questions, desires, curiosity, and ambition churned within him, forming a dense aura around his body. Slowly, Feng Qi transformed beneath its influence—the aura of freedom, exploration, life, and the world itself.
His gaze lowered, his eyes half-closed as he stared into the void, navigating through infinite possibilities. He refined his current knowledge while yearning for more.
"Go to the Tian Family. Speak with Tian Ming and try to win his favor," Bai Tianheng instructed.