A person sacrifices himself to become a saint in a chaotic world of martial arts.

Su Bai opened his eyes.

Inside the room, the white light had dissipated, and the gold and gold essence had vanished without a trace, leaving only a few pieces of coarse cloth used for wrapping, piled up empty.

He raised his hand and clenched his fist.

The moment he clenched his fist, he could feel the surging power beneath his skin; as his muscles tensed, there was a faint metallic sound. He stood up, stretched his limbs, and a series of soft crackling sounds, like popping beans, came from his bones.

The Golden Bell Cover technique has been perfected.

But that's not enough.

He looked down at his hands, then at the silver in the corner of the wall.

Chasing Clouds, that lightness skill, is only at the very beginning.

A few days later.

It's another night, the same room, the same moonlight.

Su Bai sat down cross-legged again.

Before him lay the offerings he had carefully prepared over the past few days—a jade disc of excellent quality and three hundred taels of silver.

"Sacrifice".

He was silent.

The offerings emitted a white light that almost illuminated the entire room.

The balance within his sea of ​​consciousness trembled once more, the right pan slowly rising to level with the left pan.

It's black in front of you.

The gilded light bloomed once again in my consciousness.

This time, everything about Chasing Clouds Shadow flooded in—the essentials of movement techniques, the variations in footwork, the art of lightness and leaping, and the skill of riding the wind. Countless images flashed through his mind: figures darting through the mountains and forests, figures skimming across the water, figures speeding across rooftops.

The heat surged within him once more.

This time, the heat flow was different from the last. It didn't travel between the skin membranes, but instead followed the meridians of the legs, rising from the Yongquan acupoint on the soles of the feet, down the calves, knees, and thighs, all the way to the waist and hips. Every meridian was being washed by the heat flow, and every muscle related to lightness skill was twitching slightly.

He could feel his body becoming lighter.

That lightness wasn't an illusion, but a real change—as if gravity's hold on him had lessened, as if each step he took provided more support.

Chasing the shadows of clouds, a small achievement.

Immediately afterwards—

Midnight-Noon Bone-Penetrating Needle Technique, Perfect!

The blazing sun shines brightly, and the mission is accomplished!

The sacrificial light shone brightly in the room one after another, each time more intense and each time shorter than the last.

Su Bai's cultivation speed increased dramatically.

Having mastered the perfected Blazing Sun Force, the intense heat within his body was like an inexhaustible furnace, constantly tempering his meridians.

With the assistance of the Great Golden Bell Cover, his skin is tough and his bones are strong, allowing him to break through one obstacle after another in the most perfect and fastest way.

Bottleneck? It doesn't exist.

Those obstacles that used to require arduous training and gradual refinement are now as fragile as paper under the impact of the blazing sun's energy, breaking through them with a single blow.

In the days that followed, everything seemed to return to normal.

There was no fighting, no intrigue, no suffocating crises.

Only through daily practice and relentless refinement can one achieve true mastery.

Time flies, and the days pass in the blink of an eye.

Another two weeks have passed.

For the past two weeks, Su Bai has stayed home and rarely left his house.

They could even postpone official duties; they would refuse invitations from colleagues whenever possible.

He squeezed out every spare moment he could and devoted it to his spiritual practice.

Early in the morning, he practiced boxing in the courtyard.

At noon, he meditated inside the house.

At dusk, he studied classical texts.

Late at night, he was still practicing his knife skills in the courtyard.

Every day is the same, a repetitive cycle, without ever getting tired.

His figure appeared in this small courtyard from sunrise to moonrise, and from moonrise to sunrise.

That night.

The moonlight, like water, spilled onto the rows of rooftops in the southern district, coating the blue tiles with a layer of silver frost. In the distance, the occasional bark of a dog could be heard, and the faint, listless sound of the night watchman's clapper echoed, making the stillness of the night all the more palpable.

in the courtyard.

Su Bai stood under the old locust tree.

Moonlight filtered through the gaps in the leaves, casting dappled shadows on him. He was shirtless, revealing a well-defined physique—not the exaggerated kind, but rather perfectly proportioned, with smooth lines that gleamed subtly in the moonlight.

Sweat slid down his back, shimmering in the moonlight.

He closed his eyes, his chest rose and fell slightly, and his breathing was long and even.

Within his body, the blazing sun energy was slowly circulating.

That scorching power, like underground molten lava, flowed quietly through the meridians, nourishing and strengthening them wherever it passed. The Blazing Sun Force, once perfected, was no longer as violent and uncontrollable as it had been initially; instead, it was as docile as a domesticated dog, moving at will.

The moonlight was like water, and all was quiet.

suddenly--

Su Bai made a move.

His movements were slow, as slow as swinging an arm in water, with every subtle turn clearly visible.

He slowly raised his right arm, his palm open, his fingers slightly bent, as if he were supporting something invisible.

The moonlight shone on his palm, and a thin layer of air currents seemed to swirl and condense within it.

That's not the reflection of sweat.

That is the circulation of true qi.

The next moment, he threw a punch.

The punches are as swift as the wind, yet within that wind, a thousand variations arise.

It was a punch that was extremely powerful, but it suddenly changed direction at the moment it was about to be thrown. The fist grazed the branches and leaves of the locust tree, and the airflow it generated only made the leaves tremble slightly. Not a single leaf was broken, and not a single bird roosting at night was disturbed.

Extreme rigidity gives rise to softness.

Su Bai opened his eyes, a flash of understanding in them.

He took a deep breath and threw another punch.

This time, his movements were even faster than before, so fast that the shadow of his fist was almost invisible.

Strangely, despite the swiftness of the punch, it didn't create the slightest sound—all the power was locked within the fist, all the energy circulated within the body, and it only truly exploded at the moment of the strike.

It is gentle yet firm.

"boom!"

He punched the bluestone used for sharpening knives in the yard.

The bluestone remained completely still.

Su Bai withdrew his fist, leaving not even a red mark on its surface. He looked down at the blue stone, where a shallow fist imprint slowly appeared under the moonlight. The stone around the fist imprint seemed to have been kneaded by some force, displaying subtle wrinkles and textures.

A balance of strength and gentleness.

Breakthrough.

Su Bai stood in the courtyard, feeling the completely different flow of true energy within his body.

If the true energy before was a rushing river, then now, this river has finally learned how to flow quietly, and also how to accumulate into towering waves.

The realm of strength and gentleness is not simply about mastering hard and soft power, but about truly understanding the essence of power—being as powerful as thunder when necessary, and as gentle as a spring breeze when appropriate. There is gentleness within strength, and strength within gentleness; only when strength and gentleness are in harmony can one achieve perfection.

He closed his eyes, and his consciousness spread out like mercury.

Previously, his perception could only barely reach the edge of the courtyard wall.

But now, he can even "see" the black dog curled up in its kennel dozing in the neighbor's yard, "hear" the baby smacking its lips in its sleep three streets away, and "feel" the trail of a few withered leaves swirling in the air as the night wind sweeps across the rooftops.

Even more remarkably, his control over his own power reached an unprecedented level of precision.

He raised his hand and flicked his index finger lightly.

A wisp of wind shot out and accurately struck a leaf on the old locust tree.

The leaf drifted down lightly, swirled a few times in the air, and before it hit the ground, Su Bai flicked his finger again, sending another wisp of wind striking the leaf and making it float up again.

One finger, two fingers, three fingers...

Under the moonlight, the leaf seemed to be pulled by invisible threads, rising and falling in the air, never touching the ground.

It only floated down gently, landing perfectly in his palm, when Su Bai stopped.

Su Bai looked at the leaf in his palm, a faint smile appearing on his lips.

half a month.

Half a month of arduous training, half a month of polishing, and half a month of tireless work day and night have finally brought about this leap forward.

The fifth realm of martial arts: the realm of hardness and softness.

He finally stepped inside.

At this moment, he recalled every night of the past two weeks, the sweat he shed under the moonlight, the tedious and repetitive practice, and the perseverance he endured after each period of exhaustion.

worth it.

Su Bai raised his head and looked at the bright moon in the sky.

The moonlight, still as clear as water, bathed his bare torso, his slightly heaving chest, and his eyes, which were even more profound than they had been half a month ago.

He showed no cheers, no ecstasy, and not even a superfluous expression.

Compared to those prodigies who dominate on bigger and higher stages, Su Bai is still just a tiny existence.