I want to tread the heavens

When Ling Xiao returned to the courtyard, the sky was already beginning to lighten.

Like a frightened bird, he only climbed over the wall after confirming that no one was following him. Beside the dry well, Fa Cai was pacing back and forth anxiously. When he saw him return, he immediately pounced on him, sniffing him anxiously and making whimpering inquiries.

"I'm fine, Fa Cai, I'm fine." Ling Xiao hugged it tightly, his cold hands still trembling slightly. He carefully hid the poor-quality calming grass and a few gray stones, leaving only the one that was warm to the touch, which he held in his palm as if he could draw a trace of calmness from it.

Uncle Rong had already gotten up and was slowly practicing a set of boxing techniques to stretch his muscles and bones in the courtyard. When he saw Ling Xiao return in a disheveled state, pale-faced, he didn't stop his movements, but his eyes suddenly sharpened.

"What happened?"

Ling Xiao took a deep breath and quickly recounted what he had seen and heard in the dark market—Guo Si's secret conversation with the gray-robed man, the "remnants of the fallen star," the "soul guide," the "abnormal spirit beast," the gray-robed man's strange perception, and how he almost got exposed—in the most concise language. He deliberately omitted the details of Fa Cai secretly following him and the unusual movements of the gray stone, only saying that he was lucky to escape in the chaos.

As he narrated, Uncle Rong's boxing slowed down, eventually stopping completely. He stood with his back to Ling Xiao, facing the faint light of the east, silent for a long time. The morning breeze ruffled his graying temples, and his straight back, in Ling Xiao's eyes, now revealed an indescribable heaviness.

"Understood." Uncle Rong said only three words, his voice calm, yet like a volcano about to erupt. He slowly turned around, his face revealing little expression, but in those eyes that were always as calm as a deep pool, there was now a chilling killing intent that Ling Xiao had never seen before, as well as deep-seated worry.

"How about making a fortune?" he asked.

"Still down in the well, asleep, but his breathing is much more stable," Ling Xiao said hurriedly.

"Hmm." Uncle Rong walked to the well and went down to check it out himself. When he came back up, his brows were still furrowed. "The awakening is initially complete, but the foundation is not solid, and the mind is unstable, like an unstable thunder bead that could go off at any moment. I'll process that calming herb later and give it to the animal. But it will only provide temporary relief."

He walked back to Ling Xiao, his gaze sharp: "Guo Dahai has colluded with the demons, the search has begun, and the targets are clearly 'Starfall' and 'Abnormal Spirit Beasts.' This place is already boiling over. Our original plan must be brought forward, and it must be more meticulous."

"Uncle Rong, what should we do?" Ling Xiao asked anxiously.

Uncle Rong didn't answer directly, but instead asked, "What level have you reached in your practice of the 'Swimming Fish Step' that I taught you?"

Ling Xiao was taken aback, then replied, "I've mastered the footwork techniques and can easily maneuver around ordinary obstacles, but... I'm still far from being able to apply them in actual combat."

"If you're far from good enough, then practice until you're not bad." Uncle Rong's voice suddenly turned stern. "From today onwards, all academic classes are suspended. I'll teach you a set of close-quarters combat techniques, combined with the 'Swimming Fish Step.' The goal isn't to kill the enemy, but simply to create a sliver of hope for escape in dire situations! The demon's minions are already upon us, and Guo Dahai is watching us intently. We don't have time to take things slowly!"

"Yes!" Ling Xiao's spirits lifted and he immediately replied.

For the next half day, the courtyard was transformed into a harsh training ground.

What Professor Rong taught was not some profound and mysterious magic, but a battlefield combat technique that simplified complexity, was deadly in every move, targeted vital joints, and combined with slippery footwork. Each move was simple and unadorned, yet it carried the ruthlessness and efficiency honed through life and death.

"What do you do if the enemy throws a straight punch at your face?"

"Step to the side, avoiding his attack, and at the same time, use a chop to cut the tendons in the back of his elbow!"

"The enemy has captured your wrist?"

Instead of retreating, advance, lower your shoulder to strike his chest, and hook your foot around his ankle!

"Surrounded by multiple people?"

"Go! Never get into a head-on confrontation! Your footwork is for creating escape space, not for showing off!"

Uncle Rong personally acted as his sparring partner. He showed no mercy, controlling his strength to ensure that Ling Xiao wouldn't be seriously injured, but would definitely be in so much pain that he would wince. Ling Xiao was thrown out time and time again, but he got up again and again, his body quickly covered in bruises. However, he gritted his teeth, his eyes fixed on Uncle Rong's every subtle movement, desperately trying to memorize, imitate, and digest it.

Fa Cai was allowed to look out from the dry well, and he was so anxious that he scratched his head and cheeks, but dared not go closer, for fear that his breath would disturb him.

In the afternoon, when the sun was at its strongest, Uncle Rong began demonstrating a series of deadly moves. The movements were extremely fast, requiring a high level of core strength, footwork coordination, and explosive power.

"Watch closely, the key to this 'Loach Escaping the Net' move lies in the third feint to lure the enemy, the fourth twist to reverse the joint lock, and the final explosive strike using the ground as leverage! All the power in your body must be concentrated into one force..."

He explained and demonstrated slowly. The first few movements were acceptable, but when he got to the third step, which required a great deal of twisting waist strength, and then connected it to the fourth joint-locking technique that required a brief hang time and body twist, Uncle Rong's expression suddenly changed!

His smooth movements suddenly froze, and he staggered slightly when his left foot landed! Immediately afterward, he groaned and instinctively covered his lower left rib with his left hand—the spot where he had been swept by a broken spatial rift during the time-space turbulence to protect Ling Xiao, leaving the deepest hidden injury!

"Uncle Rong!" Ling Xiao exclaimed, rushing forward to help him up.

"Don't come any closer!" Uncle Rong hissed, forcibly steadying himself, large beads of sweat instantly appearing on his forehead. He wanted to continue the demonstration, but his body wouldn't obey him. A familiar, chilling, bone-chilling pain, as if it could freeze his soul, suddenly erupted from his old injury, like thousands of ice needles piercing through his internal organs and rushing straight to his brain!

It was the destructive energy left over from the spatial turbulence! For years, he had suppressed it within his wounds with his remaining cultivation and powerful will. Just now, in order to demonstrate that technique that demanded extremely high core strength, he subconsciously slightly mobilized a wisp of his qi and blood, attempting to activate his long-dried-up meridians. But it was like poking a small hole in the bottom of a calm, blocked lake; the accumulated, cold, and hidden injuries of many years immediately found a breakthrough and launched a devastating backlash!

"puff--!"

Uncle Rong's body trembled violently, unable to hold back any longer. He suddenly opened his mouth and spat out a mouthful of dark red blood mixed with tiny ice crystals! The blood mist gleamed eerily coldly in the sunlight. His vision went black, the world spun, and his towering, mountain-like body fell straight backward!

"Uncle Rong!!!" Ling Xiao was terrified. He rushed forward and, just as Uncle Rong's head was about to hit the ground, used his small body to cushion it.

Bang! The heavy impact made Ling Xiao's vision go black, and a suffocating pain shot through his chest. But he couldn't care less about himself, and frantically hugged Uncle Rong, his hands finding him ice-cold! Uncle Rong's face was ashen, his jaw clenched, his breath so weak it was almost imperceptible, and blood mixed with icy shards was still oozing from the corners of his mouth.

"Uncle Rong! Wake up! Don't scare me! Uncle Rong!" Ling Xiao's voice was choked with sobs, gripped by immense fear. In his heart, Uncle Rong was a mountain, an ocean, someone who would never fall, someone who would always shelter him from the wind and rain. He had never imagined that this mountain, this ocean, would be so vulnerable, so close to collapsing.

In his panic, he suddenly remembered the calming herb in his arms! Although it was meant to stabilize Fa Cai's mind, Uncle Rong was currently in a state of agitation, and his old injuries were flaring up. Perhaps... perhaps it would be of some use?

He frantically pulled out the calming herb, not bothering to process it, and simply tore off a few leaves and stuffed them into Uncle Rong's mouth. He then rushed to the well, scooped half a ladle of water with a wooden ladle, and slowly pried open Uncle Rong's jaw, pouring the water mixed with the chewed herb leaves down his throat.

The calming herbs were of weak power, utterly ineffective against the deep, cold spatial injury within Uncle Rong's body. However, their soothing and calming effects seemed to slightly calm Uncle Rong's soul, which was violently fluctuating due to the intense pain. Uncle Rong's body was no longer so stiff and cold; although he was still unconscious, his breathing seemed to have improved slightly.

Ling Xiao knelt beside him, tightly gripping Uncle Rong's cold hand. Tears finally streamed down his face, mingling with the dust and sweat. He hated his own incompetence, his own weakness. If he were stronger, if he could learn faster, would Uncle Rong have had to force a demonstration? If he had been prepared earlier, would he have had a better medicine?

Just as he was at his wit's end, footsteps came from outside the courtyard gate.

It was Guo Yun. She only brought one personal maid with her, her face grave. Clearly, the commotion of Uncle Rong vomiting blood and falling into a coma, along with the possible leaks from the black market, had alerted her to something amiss.

Upon seeing the scene in the courtyard, Guo Yun paused, her eyes flashing with shock, understanding, and a complex, almost painful expression. She quickly stepped forward, while the old woman stood guard at the courtyard gate.

"What happened?" Guo Yun squatted down, placing her fingers on Uncle Rong's wrist pulse. After a moment, her expression turned even more grim. "An old injury flared up? And it triggered the spatial cold poison? Nonsense! How can he recklessly expend his qi and blood in this state!"

"Grandma Guo Yun, please save Uncle Rong!" Ling Xiao said, choking back tears, as if grasping at a straw.

Guo Yun didn't speak, but took out a palm-sized white jade bottle from her bosom. The bottle was smooth and warm, engraved with cloud patterns. She uncorked it and poured out a pill the size of a longan, pure white, emitting a rich medicinal fragrance and warmth.

"The Meridian-Regenerating Pill?" the old woman beside her exclaimed softly, clearly recognizing its value.

Without hesitation, Guo Yun placed the pill into Uncle Rong's mouth and used her gentle spiritual power to help him neutralize its effects. After the pill entered his stomach, the deathly golden aura on Uncle Rong's face faded slightly, and his breathing became much more stable. Although he was still unconscious, his life seemed to be temporarily out of danger.

"This pill can only temporarily sustain his vital energy, suppress the cold poison, and repair some of his damaged meridians." Guo Yun withdrew her hand, looked at Ling Xiao, and said in a low voice, "But it only treats the symptoms, not the root cause. His injury is a double damage to both his Dao foundation and physical body, mixed with the difficult-to-remove spatial yin and cold power. Unless a powerful being spares no expense to rebuild his Dao foundation, or finds the most yang and sacred spiritual treasure of heaven and earth, otherwise... he will eventually run out of energy."

Ling Xiao was struck dumb, staring blankly at Guo Yun, then at the unconscious Uncle Rong. "Exhausted and dying..." These four words pierced his heart like four ice picks.

Guo Yun gently placed the white jade bottle containing the remaining two "Pulse-Regenerating Pills" into Ling Xiao's hand: "Keep it safe. It can be used in emergencies. But these pills are precious, and I only have these three. If he tries to force the process again, even a god couldn't save him."

She stood up, her gaze sweeping over the chaotic courtyard before finally settling on Ling Xiao's tear-streaked eyes, which were now blazing with fire. After a moment of silence, she said, "I will try to keep Guo Dahai occupied. I am aware of the demon spies and have already sent more people to investigate secretly. But you... you'd better watch yourselves."

"Remember, Ling Xiao," she turned to leave, then stopped, her back to him, her voice carrying a rare weariness and desolation, "In this world, the only one who can truly protect you is yourself. To protect those you care about, you need to be strong enough. Complaining, crying, and fear are all useless."

After saying that, she didn't linger and left quickly with the old woman, as if staying any longer would only make the weight of the burden crush her more.

The courtyard returned to silence, with only the rustling of the wind through the old locust tree.

Ling Xiao knelt beside Uncle Rong, holding the jade bottle that still carried Guo Yun's warmth, and remained motionless for a long time.

The tear tracks on her face had dried, leaving a tight, dry mark. The panic, fear, and helplessness in her eyes were gradually replaced by something deeper and harder.

He looked at Uncle Rong's pale, thin face, at the deep-set eyes beneath his tightly closed eyelids, at his graying temples. In his memory, Uncle Rong was always silent and strong, like a silent wall, shielding him from all the storms and malice of the past. He was used to hiding behind that wall, used to Uncle Rong arranging everything for him, used to turning back to find that helpless yet always there figure to clean up his messes after causing trouble.

He never imagined that this wall was not indestructible. It was already riddled with cracks, its interior filled with years of pain and exhaustion, but it was forcibly held up by an iron will, never revealing itself to him.

Even today, a corner of the wall has collapsed, revealing the devastation inside.

After the initial shock came excruciating self-reproach. If it weren't for teaching him, if he weren't so weak, why would Uncle Rong have done this? Then came a chilling fear, the fear that this wall would truly crumble, leaving him alone to face this cold and cruel world.

But in the end, all these emotions were ignited by Guo Yun's words, forging them into a wildly burning flame of determination.

"To protect the people you care about, you need to be strong enough."

Yes. Complaining is useless, crying is useless, and fear is even more useless.

He gently wiped away the remaining blood from Uncle Rong's lips and carefully put the jade bottle into his inner pocket. Then he got up, walked to the center of the courtyard, and picked up the branch that Uncle Rong had dropped during his demonstration.

He started practicing.

He practiced the unfinished "Loach Escaping the Net," the "Swimming Fish Step," and every technique for grappling and throwing. Without a sparring partner, he practiced against the air, against the wooden stake, once, ten times, a hundred times… Sweat soaked his clothes again, the bruises on his body screaming in pain, but he seemed oblivious. His eyes were terrifyingly focused, as if he wanted to etch every movement, every exertion of force, into his very bones, into his blood.

As the sun set, it cast a long shadow of him, lonely yet upright.

Fa Cai quietly climbed out of the well, squatted under the eaves, and watched him quietly. His amber eyes no longer held their usual liveliness, only complete silence and companionship.

As night fell, Ling Xiao finally collapsed from exhaustion, sitting on the ground, panting heavily. But instead of going back inside, he moved to Uncle Rong's side and carefully carried him on his back—though it was strenuous, the fourteen-year-old boy already had some strength. He gritted his teeth and carried Uncle Rong back into the house, settling him on the bed and covering him with a blanket.

Then, he fetched some clean water and gently washed Uncle Rong's face and hands, his movements more tender than ever before.

After doing all this, he moved a small stool and sat down beside Uncle Rong's bed. Holding Uncle Rong's still-cold hand, he gently pressed his forehead against the back of his hand.

In the darkness, the boy's low, hoarse yet exceptionally clear voice slowly rose, as if making a vow, or as if speaking to himself:

"Uncle Rong, you're tired, so please get some rest."

"From now on, I'll protect you from the storms."

"I will become very strong, very strong. Strong enough to get the medicine to cure you, strong enough to make those who want to harm us unable to lay a hand on us again."

"You've protected me for so many years... Now, it's my turn to protect you."

I swear.

The moonlight streamed in quietly from the window, illuminating the undried sweat on the boy's face and the blazing flame in his eyes—a flame powerful enough to burn away all cowardice and light the way forward.

That night, in a corner of the old land, something in the heart of a young man died completely. At the same time, something harder and more fiery broke through the soil and grew wildly.