The Northern Song Dynasty returned south, seeking the truth of the Dao.

More than a month of cultivation in the mountains brought Wang Zhenhuan not only an improvement in strength, but also, although he had not yet broken through to the Seeking Truth Realm, he was only one step away.

Once the spiritual energy within him breaks through the perineum and reassembles in the dantian, it can circulate continuously, at which point the pursuit of truth will naturally come to fruition. The greatest impact of cultivating in the mountains on him is the change in his temperament.

Master Xuan Yangzi is right; the essence of Taoist cultivation lies in cultivating the mind. Only when the mind is calm can you view all things in the world with peace, and all things in the world should also treat you with peace.

Like those people on the street just now, if it were him in the past, being found disheveled and looking like a beggar, with disgust on someone's face, he would definitely feel extremely embarrassed and inferior.

But now, Wang Zhenhuan can face all of this with equanimity. The root of the problem lies in caring too much. Caring too much about others' feelings leads to losing oneself.

Taoist cultivation is about cultivating one's true self. Although it was already winter, the weather was fine today. The sun shone brightly all the way, and since Wang Zhenhuan was disheveled, he simply disguised himself as a beggar.

Although this was the realm of Yingtian, there were still many refugees on the road. They were all emaciated and dressed in tattered clothes. It seemed that the situation in the south was very bad; Yingtian was south of Tokyo.

If Tokyo hadn't been besieged, there would never have been so many refugees near Yingtian. Wang Zhenhuan was worried and unconsciously quickened his pace.

After walking for a while, he remembered that he was now dressed as a beggar. A beggar walking quickly would be very conspicuous on the main road. So, after much deliberation, he decided to blend into the refugee crowd.

Although he now has disheveled hair and a full beard, it's hard to guarantee that he won't be recognized. More than a month has passed since the incident, and the limelight should have died down by now.

But Wang Zhen dared not gamble; this was Xuan Yangzi's dying wish, and he had to fulfill it no matter what. So, he quietly followed behind the refugee procession.

These refugees were already numb; it was common for them to be short or have more people along the way. Wang Huanzhen's arrival didn't arouse any curiosity. They simply followed the group for several days.

They finally emerged from the wilderness and arrived at a county town. However, due to the late hour, the town gates were tightly shut. Left with no other option, Wang Zhenhuan and the others had to stay overnight at the City God Temple, which was not far outside the town.

The City God Temple wasn't large, and next to it was a mortuary, a place where corpses were kept. In the dead of night, nobody wanted to live with the dead. Wang Zhenhuan was no exception.

After following the crowd to the entrance of the City God Temple, he looked up and saw three large characters on the plaque above the entrance. These three gilded characters triggered a renewed assault on his dead memories.

The first night he met Daoist Xuan Yangzi, he stayed at the City God Temple. Unfortunately, things had changed. He sighed and followed the group of refugees into the temple.

As soon as he entered, he heard the leaders exclaim in surprise. Wang Huanzhen glanced around and saw that several beggars holding sticks were sitting around the statue of the City God in the main hall.

These beggars were different from ordinary beggars; although their clothes were ragged, they all carried weapons. Moreover, their tone was arrogant and fierce. Upon seeing the group enter...

They grabbed sticks and began to drive them away while beating them. The leading refugees, being weak and slow, were knocked to the ground with a single blow, and the others scattered and fled.

The refugee was so frightened that he retreated on the ground, begging for mercy. But the beggars not only did not let him go, but intensified their beating, their faces filled with cruelty and brutality.

The refugee on the ground was barely breathing and was about to be beaten to death. Wang Zhenhuan finally couldn't hold back any longer. He stepped forward and fawned over the beggars.

"Gentlemen, please don't hit my second uncle. I have a few copper coins here; please take them to have some wine."

"Oh? This old codger has relatives? Let me see them." The young man in the lead stopped what he was doing and reached out to Wang Huanzhen, asking for them.

Wang Zhen rummaged in his pocket for a moment and found three copper coins. He took them out and, instinctively, wanted to put them back. These three copper coins were none other than the three that Master Xuan Yangzi had used to divine for him earlier.

He had it thrown to him along with his dry rations, and had carried it with him for the past month. Wang Zhen had intended to give them a few copper coins to get rid of them, but he hadn't expected to have reached into the wrong pocket.

Although there was no fire in the temple at that moment, his little actions were still noticed by the leader. Seeing that Wang Zhenhuan actually wanted to send him back, he glared at him and raised the stick in his hand to hit him.

Caught completely off guard, Wang Zhen was struck on the head with a stick. He immediately felt dizzy and saw stars. The beggar's stick, which appeared to be made of bamboo, was actually filled with an iron rod.

No wonder he beat that refugee half to death in just a few moves. Startled by the sudden attack, Wang Zhen staggered a few steps and shook his head. His Baihui point on his head had already been opened.

If it weren't for the protection of spiritual energy, this blow would have killed him. Once Wang Zhenhuan came to his senses, he was instantly enraged. He shook his head, glaring fiercely at the leading beggar.

The beggar seemed intimidated by Wang Zhenhuan's gaze. He had been about to deliver another blow, but instinctively stopped. Realizing he had been fooled by a mere teenager, he became furious and embarrassed.

He raised the stick in his hand and brought it down hard on Wang Zhenhuan. Wang Zhenhuan's eyes were bloodshot, and all he could think about was how to kill the person in front of him.

His spiritual energy, fueled by his anger, unconsciously converged along his Ren and Du meridians. It continued until the final blockage at the perineum. A surge of spiritual energy rushed forward, instantly clearing the world.

The spiritual energy returned to his dantian, completing a full cycle. Wang Zhenhuan suddenly felt a strange force arising within his body. He reached out and grabbed the beggar's stick.

The beggar was stunned. He hadn't expected Wang Zhenhuan to be able to grab his iron-bound stick with his bare hands. He tugged hard, but couldn't pull it off. His face flushed red, and he roared angrily.

"What are you waiting for? Charge!"

All of this happened in the blink of an eye. His henchmen, waking from their daze upon hearing his shout, rushed towards Wang Zhenhuan, clubs in hand. Wang Zhenhuan, having broken through his cultivation level, could now see in the dark.

He gathered his spiritual energy in his palm and struck out at the beggar in front of him. Unsure of his own strength, he used a full ninety percent of his power in this strike!

The beggar screamed and flew straight out, crashing headfirst into the courtyard wall. His neck was crooked, and he looked like he was going to die!