“Garuda wouldn't casually make a move. Besides him, although there are many experts in the dark web, most dark web assassins above Level Three are registered. Once they enter the country, they're doomed."

Jing Xiaolou picked up his teacup:

"Brother An, please."

Jing Xiaolou's voice was calm, carrying the subtle self-respect of a citizen of a great nation.

"Indeed."

An Qisheng lifted his teacup.

The Great Xuan of this world was incomparably strong, dominating the Xuan Province of the East for thousands of years. Even in times of decline, it quickly ascended to the top of the world, one of the two great powers of the age.

Whether it was the dark web, assassin organizations, mercenaries, or martial artists who had achieved supernatural power, they were all absolutely inferior.

They dared not enter the country easily.

Mu Longcheng was like this, and Garuda was the same.

Although there was a bounty on his head, he didn't feel much fluctuation in his heart.

However, he needed to be more careful.

As they spoke, they also discussed martial arts, continuing until the sun was high in the sky, each gaining something.

After eating, An Qisheng went to the pavilion in the middle of the lake again.

The lake water was clear, and fish and shrimp played, creating ripples. In the pavilion, the old man sat cross-legged, facing the mountains:

"You're leaving?"

"I've stayed for half a month. It's time to go."

An Qisheng cupped his fist in salute:

"I will remember the Grandmaster's guidance."

Half a month on Yangming Mountain was better than several years of hard work. The subtleties of Dark Force Transformation became increasingly clear in his mind.

Naturally, he would remember it.

"Mouths are for speaking, so there's no need for thanks."

The old man shook his head slightly.

Sensing that An Qisheng wanted to say something, he smiled and said:

"If you want to thank me, come to Yangming Mountain for tea when your skills are accomplished, and let me see your kung fu, that's all."

"Of course."

An Qisheng replied, feeling some respect in his heart.

Xue Zheng, as the curator of the Southern Martial Arts Association, had many disciples.

He had connections in politics, the military, business, and the martial arts world. His guidance wasn't really about expecting anything in return.

In this world, the rarest thing was to give without expecting anything in return.

"Kung fu is nine parts practice and one part fighting. You're almost there, but you're too tense. Relaxing appropriately won't hurt."

The old man reached into his pocket and took out a black booklet, tossing it to An Qisheng:

"These past few days, I've been inspired by watching you practice Bajiquan. I've scribbled down some things randomly. Take a look; it might be useful."

"Thank you, Grandmaster."

An Qisheng held the booklet with both hands and bowed deeply.

He didn't know if this Grandmaster treated every visitor like this, but to him, this was the only person in this world who had ever guided him in kung fu.

Without saying it explicitly, they already had the relationship of half-master and disciple.

"Go."

The old man waved his hand.

......

After saying goodbye to the old man, An Qisheng didn't linger. He left Yangming Mountain and went to the airport to fly to the mainland.

After that, he transferred to a train and embarked on the road back to Xingcheng.

Nothing happened along the way, so there was no need to elaborate.

Xingcheng in the dead of winter was naturally different from Treasure Island. The cold wind howled, and the streets at midnight were even more bone-chilling.

Carrying his luggage, he got off the train.

Even at midnight, there were many people waiting outside the train station, mostly taxi drivers looking for fares.

An Qisheng was used to it and casually found a taxi.

It was already midnight, and he didn't want to disturb his parents, so he went back to the suburbs.

"Huh? The lights are on?"

As soon as he walked into the villa, An Qisheng's body tensed up, then relaxed.

The shadow reflected by the light was his mother.

"Who is it?"

Not long after the lights came on, An's mother's voice came from upstairs.

"Mom, it's me. I'm back."

An Qisheng replied.

"It's so cold. Come in quickly."

An's mother opened the door wearing an outer coat and pulled him in, complaining a little:

"Why didn't you call when you came back?"

"Mom, why are you here?"

An Qisheng put down his luggage.

"Who knows how long you'd be gone? It's not cost-effective to hire someone to clean. I'm free anyway, so I come over every few days to clean and stay for a day."

An's mother closed the door, looking at her son with some heartache:

"You came back so late. Are you hungry? Mom will cook for you."

"Don't bother. I've already eaten."

An Qisheng quickly stopped his mother, persuading her to rest, and he returned to his bedroom.

Lying on the bed, An Qisheng felt calm.

Although this trip only lasted for a little over half a month, he had drifted at sea, fought fiercely in New Country, and narrowly escaped death. Even after arriving at Yangming Mountain, he still felt some ripples in his heart.

Only after returning to his own home did his heart completely calm down.

He took out the booklet that the old man had given him.

He opened it.

On the first page, were the words "Hard Skill":

【If the fist is not hard, then hitting people doesn't hurt. It is said in the martial arts world that to hit people, you must first practice being hit. The human body's muscles, bones, and skeletons are never immutable. The wear and tear and healing of bones is the most superficial method of hard skill training...】

"Hard skill..."

An Qisheng glanced at it and continued to flip through.

This booklet wasn't thick, but it contained Xue Zheng's vast insights into hard skills, external martial arts, internal martial arts, footwork, internal refinement, and other kung fu. He called it a collection of notes.

In reality, it contained a great many things.

"Profound yet simple, worthy of being a Grandmaster."

After carefully reading it, An Qisheng couldn't help but sigh in admiration.

Unlike the obscure and mysterious terminology in the boxing manuals and notes he had read in the past, Xue Zheng's booklet explained the essence of various boxing techniques in the simplest language.

Even a person who didn't understand martial arts could learn something from it as long as they calmed down and thought about it.

As he read, An Qisheng's understanding of boxing deepened.

"Hoo~"

After a long time, he closed the booklet and closed his eyes slightly:

An Qisheng】

Specialties: Bajiquan (79%) Liuhe Great Spear (79%) Dragon-Tiger Great Capturing Hand (69%) Gu Men Mind-Intent Fist (33%) Dragon Roar Iron Cloth (55%).......】

Status: Increasingly Weak (Terminal Illness?) Embracing Core Level Strength State (69%)】

"Still a terminal illness..."

An Qisheng took a deep breath.

Over the past year, as his kung fu became deeper and his physical fitness became stronger, his spirit had also undergone subtle changes.

His ability was also slowly changing.

But his illness wasn't completely cured, and the presence of this panel constantly reminded him of this.

"I use Grandmaster Wang Honglin as a reference. If all progress reaches one hundred, then I can be comparable to Wang Honglin of that year...

If the mastery of Embracing Core Strength reaches seventy, then I will achieve Transformation Strength; at one hundred, can I embrace the core?"

Many thoughts swirled in An Qisheng's mind.

Among the many data, what he cared about most was the mastery of strength, because in his expectations, only by embracing the core could he truly cure his illness.

After he mastered that spear from Wang Honglin, his mastery of strength advanced by leaps and bounds, and after his fight with Jing Xiaolou on Yangming Mountain, it climbed to the limit below Transformation Strength.

But Transformation Strength couldn't be rushed either.

"Perhaps, I really need to slow down..."

An Qisheng had a thought.

For more than a year, he had gotten up every morning before dawn to cook medicinal cuisine, practice boxing, shake the great spear, visualize at night, and dream about martial arts masters, only sleeping in the middle of the night.

Perhaps, was he really too tense?

.......