Great Pursuit

That evening, Pang San hosted a banquet at his residence for Duàn Yì. Rare delicacies filled the tables, beautiful women danced gracefully, and the entire affair was harmonious and congenial.

After returning to his room, Duàn Yì declined the stunning maid Pang San had sent to attend his bed. Once he had washed up, he extinguished the lamp and sat cross-legged alone upon the soft bed in the darkness.

The muscles throughout his body loosened like clouds, his true qi congealed like a pill, and his spirit drew inward, slipping into the Tower of Hidden Martial Arts.

Within the vast white mist, whose beginning and end were unknown.

Duàn Yì's spirit took physical form. His feet stood upon solid ground as he pushed open the doors and entered the Tower of Hidden Martial Arts, excitement and unease mingling within him.

The moment he entered the Tower of Hidden Martial Arts, Duàn Yì sensed an immense change. With every breath, it seemed as though tidal undercurrents surged; within his inhalation and exhalation, clouds and mist appeared to churn.

To describe it more precisely, if the Tower of Hidden Martial Arts had once been like a child of seven or eight, then in this brief span of time, that child had grown into a youth of fifteen or sixteen. It was nothing short of a world-turning transformation.

Duàn Yì did not hurry to peruse the martial arts manuals he had gathered from the arsenal. With a thought, he once more contemplated the sword dao he had attained during the day, wanting to see whether his abilities had truly soared.

For a time, his thoughts flew like birds and his ideas flashed like lightning. In a single instant, it seemed as though a thousand centuries had passed.

The few remaining barriers and rough