Martial Arts Secret Realm: Only I Can Know the Plot?

The sounds from the distant playground gradually faded away; the night grew deeper, and the wind grew cooler.

Sun Fan stood there, motionless.

He was thinking about something. If he participated in the year-end competition with all his might, fighting his way through each match with that sword, how far could he go? Maybe he could make it into the top ten, maybe into the top five, maybe—he could win the championship.

and then?

Then his body will be hollowed out, his inner demons will go out of control, and he will become the second Ye Liuxing.

He lay in the sanatorium, not recognizing anyone, not speaking, and not carrying a sword.

He was only eighteen years old.

"Teacher Feng," he finally spoke.

Feng Congyun looked at him.

"I'm not participating in the year-end competition."

Feng Congyun stared at him for a long time, then the corners of his mouth slowly curled up. It wasn't a smile, but a sense of relief, as if the heart that had been hanging in suspense had finally been put down.

"Okay," he said, just one word.

He stood up from the windowsill, straightened his wrinkled jacket, tucked the flask back into his belt, and walked to the other end of the corridor. After a few steps, he suddenly stopped and said something without turning his head.

"If you need resources, come to me. Pills, secret manuals, weapons, anything. Although I'm no longer a teacher, my words still carry some weight in the Dark Martial Arts Academy."

Sun Fan was stunned for a moment.

"Teacher Feng, I—"

"Stop talking nonsense." Feng Congyun interrupted him. "It's not for free. When you become successful in the future, just buy me drinks. The strong kind, the kind you brought last time was pretty good."

After saying that, he strode forward without looking back.

They quickly disappeared into the shadows at the end of the corridor.

Sun Fan stood in the corridor, looking in the direction where the wind had disappeared from the clouds, and remained motionless for a long time.

Moonlight streamed in through the window, falling at his feet, a silvery white glow.

He looked down at his right hand. The scar on his thumb was particularly clear in the moonlight, like a tiny centipede lying there.

He recalled the look in the eyes of the Blood Saber Ancestor before his death.

It wasn't fear, nor anger, but an indescribable peace, like finally finding a home.

For a ruthless killer, dying by the sword might truly be the best ending.

But he didn't want to die that way.

He wanted to live.

Live well.

"Squad leader?" Dong Dahai's voice came from the other end of the corridor. "What are you still doing here? What did Old Zhang say to you?"

Sun Fan turned around and watched Dong Dahai walk over from the other end of the corridor. Under the moonlight, his scarred face didn't look so ferocious; instead, it looked rather simple and honest.

"It's nothing," Sun Fan said. "It's about the year-end competition."

"Are you going to participate?"

"I will not participate."

Dong Dahai paused for a moment, then nodded without asking why.

He knew that Sun Fan never made decisions impulsively; he always had his reasons.

"Let's go." Sun Fan strode forward. "Let's go back and practice."

"Practicing so late?"

"I can't sleep if I don't practice."

The two walked one after the other through the corridor, down the stairs, and into the night.

The moonlight stretched their shadows long and thin, like two unsheathed swords, side by side, extending forward.

The news that Sun Fan would not participate in the year-end competition spread throughout the class the very next day.

Red Wolf was eating breakfast when he heard this. The steamed bun in his hand fell onto the table, rolled twice, and stopped next to his porridge bowl. He opened his mouth, unable to close it for a long time, then suddenly stood up, pushing his chair back with a screeching sound.

"What? You're not participating?!"

Everyone in the cafeteria was looking this way. Du Ming shoved him back into his chair and whispered, "Could you please keep your voice down?"

Red Wolf ignored his warning and glared at Sun Fan: "Class monitor, why? You've killed the ferocious tiger and the Blood Blade Ancestor, what are you afraid of, those third-year students?"

Sun Fan picked up a piece of pickled vegetable with his chopsticks, chewed it slowly, and did not answer immediately.

Mu Xue'er sat beside him, holding a bowl of porridge, but didn't drink it, her eyes fixed on Sun Fan, waiting for his explanation. Du Ming put down his chopsticks, leaned back in his chair, and tapped his fingers lightly on the table. Dong Dahai sat opposite Sun Fan, head down, eating noodles expressionlessly, as if he hadn't heard Red Wolf's words.

"It's not because I'm afraid," Sun Fan finally spoke, putting down his chopsticks. "It's because it's not worth it."

"Not worth it?" Red Wolf frowned. "It's the year-end competition, broadcast live to the whole school! The top three get tons of rewards! Isn't that worth it?"

Sun Fan picked up his bowl of porridge, took a sip, and then said, "If I told you that participating in the year-end competition would shorten my lifespan, would you still think it's worth it?"

Red Wolf was stunned.

"What...what did you say?"

"My sword consumes more than just internal energy," Sun Fan said. "Every strike drains my body and spirit. One or two matches are fine, but five or six matches are too much for my body."

Red Wolf opened his mouth, then closed it again.

"But...but..." Red Wolf wanted to say something, but after saying "but" twice, he couldn't continue.

He knew Sun Fan was right. Life was more important than anything else. Without life, no matter how many resources or how great a reputation one had, it was all for naught.

"Don't worry about resources." Sun Fan picked up his bowl of porridge, finished the last mouthful, wiped his mouth with a tissue, and said, "Someone said I can contact him if I need resources."

"Who?" Red Wolf asked.

"The wind follows the clouds."

Red Wolf's chopsticks fell to the ground.

Du Ming's hand also stopped. Mu Xue'er put down her porridge bowl, her eyes wide open. Even Dong Dahai paused in his eating.

The wind follows the clouds.

He was once the leader of the Eight Masters at the Round Table, the sixth-realm swordsman second only to the principal, and Ye Liuxing's master.

He offered to provide resources to Sun Fan?

"You...when did you become so familiar with him?" Red Wolf's voice was a little unsteady.

Sun Fan thought for a moment and said, "Last time when he substituted for me, I treated him to half a pot of wine."

Half a pot of wine in exchange for a promise from a sixth-realm swordsman. What a worthwhile deal!

Red Wolf picked up his chopsticks, wiped them on his clothes, picked up the bun that had fallen on the table again, took a bite, chewed it a couple of times, and suddenly laughed.

"Squad leader, your luck is truly unparalleled."

Sun Fan shook his head without explaining.

He knew it wasn't luck. Feng Congyun was willing to help him not because he bought him half a pot of wine, but because Feng Congyun saw Ye Liuxing's shadow in Sun Fan. He didn't want a second Ye Liuxing to appear. That was all.

In the days that followed, Sun Fan lived a very regular life.

He practices swordsmanship every morning, practices the Divine Illumination Scripture in the morning, and attends the advanced class for the Power Generation Realm in the afternoon—he has never missed an old man Mo's class, and even now that he has reached the Meridian Opening Realm, he still finds what old man Mo teaches useful.

In the evening, he would sit alone in the courtyard, brew a pot of tea, look at the moon, and slowly regulate his breathing.

The internal energy of the Divine Illumination Scripture circulated slowly within his body, and the warm current in his chest grew stronger and stronger. With each circulation, the blockages in his meridians loosened a little. Following the notes left by Ding Dian, he gradually opened up the meridians that were not yet fully unblocked.

The three Yin meridians of the hand, the three Yang meridians of the hand, the three Yin meridians of the foot, and the three Yang meridians of the foot. The twelve regular meridians are connected one by one, segment by segment. One cannot rush, for rushing will damage the meridians; one cannot be slow either, for being slow will undo all previous efforts.

Ding Dian wrote in his notes: "Opening a channel is like opening a river; the channel will open naturally when the water is available. If the water is not available, forcing the channel to open will result in the channel opening but no water. When the water arrives, the channel will open naturally."

So he's not in a hurry.

He has plenty of time.

As for resources, Feng Congyun kept his word.