Douluo Continent: The Twin Holy Dragons of Light and Darkness, the Dragon Emperor Breaks Through the

Chapter 292 Enlightenment

Ling Feng suddenly realized that he hadn't really looked at something properly in a long time.

He used to always look into the distance, at the enemy, at the target, and at the next battle.

He was used to looking ahead, used to focusing his attention on places he hadn't yet reached.

He forgot to stop and look where he was.

He forgot to look at the shade of the trees overhead, the stone slabs under his feet, and the person sitting quietly beside him.

He suddenly felt a little regretful.

In those years, he missed too many mornings like that.

After that day, Ling Feng began to pay attention to things he wouldn't have noticed before.

He noticed that the edge of a bluestone slab on the steps of the offering hall was worn rounded, as if it had been trodden by countless footsteps.

He noticed a thin crack on a wooden pillar under the corridor, extending from the top to about half a person's height, as if it had been hit by something.

He noticed that the moss in the corner of the yard was thicker than last year, growing especially lush in places with plenty of rain, its color turning dark black, and it felt soft and spongy when stepped on.

He noticed a mark on the bark of the old locust tree, a mark left by lightning, like an old scar that had long been covered by new bark, leaving only a shallow indentation.

He had never paid attention to these things before.

These things were always there; he passed by them every day, but he never really saw them.

He sat on the veranda, no longer in a hurry to do anything, no longer thinking about where to go next, and no longer calculating how much further he had to go.

He simply sat there, watching the ordinary, everyday things in the yard, like a stone slowly being smoothed by the stream, no longer in a hurry to roll forward.

One evening, Jin Chen returned from the training ground, carrying the Trident of the Sea God. He saw Ling Feng sitting under the eaves in a daze and grinned.

"Boss, why do you seem to be spacing out a lot lately? Are you getting old?"

Ling Feng was neither angry nor did he refute.

He thought about it.

"I wasn't spacing out, I was looking at something."

Jin Chen scratched his head. "What are you looking at?"

Ling Feng pointed to the old locust tree in the yard.

"Look at it."

Jin Chen followed his finger and looked over. The old locust tree swayed gently in the evening breeze, its dense canopy like a large, open umbrella.

Jin Chen glanced at it twice, then looked away.

"What's so interesting about trees?"

Ling Feng did not answer, his gaze remaining fixed on the tree.

“It has been standing there for a long time, longer than all of us.”

Jin Chen paused for a moment, opened his mouth as if to say something, but ultimately said nothing.

That night, Ling Feng had a dream.

In his dream, he stood in a vast, empty field. The sky was gray, without clouds or wind.

The ground was flat loess, stretching into the distance where it was not visible, as if it had been carefully smoothed out.

There were no trees, no grass, no stones on the field, only a layer of dust covering it.

He stood there, not knowing why he was there or where he was going.

He looked down at his hands, in which he was holding a stick.

The coiled dragon staff gleamed faintly in the twilight, and the patterns on its surface were clearly visible.

He looked up and saw a golden light slowly rising on the distant horizon.

The light was gentle, like a cloudless sky slowly brightening.

He stared at the light, without moving an inch.

The light grew brighter and closer, yet there was no burning sensation.

It spread over like morning mist, like the rising tide.

Then he woke up.

The sky outside the window was not yet fully bright; the night was slowly fading away.

Ling Feng sat up, put on his coat, and walked into the courtyard.

The old locust tree was blurred in the pre-dawn light, like a shadow of varying shades.

He stood under the tree, looking up at the intertwined branches, and recalled the light in his dream.

That ray of light had no shape, no boundaries, yet it gave direction to the desolate landscape of my dream.

He suddenly felt that the light was telling him something.

It's not about telling him what to do or where to go, but about telling him that he's already on his way.

Ling Feng began cultivating again.

It's not because he needs to become stronger, nor because he wants to defeat anyone.

It was simply because he wanted to take a fresh look at his martial spirit, as if he were examining someone he had known for a long time with new eyes.

He stood on the training ground, closed his eyes, and released his martial spirit.

The phantom of the holy dragon appeared behind him, its entire body golden, its scales covered with ancient patterns, its eyes gentle, as if waking from a long dream, calmly looking at him.

He saw his own reflection in those golden dragon eyes, small but clear, like standing on the edge of a calm lake.

He watched, not in a hurry to do anything, nor in a hurry to ask anything.

He just watched.

He picked up the coiled dragon staff and began practicing the staff technique he had practiced countless times.

The same starting stance, the same sweeping, chopping, diagonal thrust, and spinning motion.

He practiced each move very slowly, as if he were breaking down each movement, feeling the changes in airflow with each turn, and feeling the trajectory of the stick as it moved through the air.

He used to pursue speed, power, and being faster, more ruthless, and more accurate.

Now he's just practicing, without any purpose or expectation, like someone grinding ink for calligraphy.

He practiced for the entire morning, sweat dripping from his forehead, but he didn't wipe it away.

He put away the Panlong Staff, stood in the center of the training ground, and suddenly felt something was different.

It's not that his moves have become newer, nor that his power has increased; it's that when he swings his staff, he no longer thinks about the next strike.

He was completely focused on that one strike.

Qian Renxue stood by the edge of the training ground, watched for a while, and then walked up to him.

"you've changed."

Ling Feng looked at her, his gaze calm.

What has changed?

Qian Renxue thought for a moment.

"I can't quite put my finger on it. But it's different now."

That night, Ling Feng sat by the window, and the moonlight poured in from outside, spreading a silvery white across the table.

He looked down at his hands, his palms outstretched, the lines on his palms clearly visible.

He could feel the flow of soul power within his body, slow and steady, like a river that had traveled a long way and finally found its riverbed.

He closed his eyes, feeling the soul power flowing through his meridians, and sensing the sleeping golden holy dragon within his body.

It hasn't disappeared; it's always been there.

He just hadn't sat down and listened to it talk in a long time.

He started going to the training ground every day to practice for a while, sometimes alone, sometimes sparring with Jin Chen, and sometimes with Qian Renxue.

He stopped calculating how much time he had spent practicing, and stopped thinking about what level of practice was enough.

He was just practicing, like water flowing over stones, for no particular reason, just passing by.

Zhu Zhuqing saw him practicing his skills and once stood under the corridor for a long time before asking him a question.

“Holy Son, your recent practice seems a bit different from before.”

Ling Feng stopped his attack, leaned the Dragon Staff against the wall, and turned to look at her.

"What's different?"

Zhu Zhuqing thought for a moment and said, "Before, you seemed to be rushing, but now you seem to be taking a stroll."

Chapter 293 Silence

Ling Feng didn't answer, but he knew she was right.

He was indeed taking a walk.

One morning, before it was fully light, Ling Feng walked alone to the city wall.

Beyond the city walls lay a vast expanse of still-sleeping fields, dark in color, like a thick layer of velvet.

He stood there, watching the sky lighten from darkness to light, watching the first ray of sunlight cross the treetops in the distance, spread out, and illuminate the entire field.

The wind blew in from the fields, carrying the coolness of the morning and the scent of earth.

He suddenly felt that he was becoming a part of this landscape.

When Ling Feng came down from the city wall, it was already broad daylight.

Pedestrians began to appear on the streets, stalls gradually opened at the morning market, and smoke rose from the rooftops.