The Greatest Heroes Serve Their Country and People

"Guo Jing, at your service." Guo Jing cupped his fists.

"Fang Xuan, at your service, Hero Guo."

The greatest heroes served their country and people.

Regardless of Guo Jing's cultivation, his bearing alone was enough to earn anyone's respect.

Little did anyone know that Guo Jing was also deeply shocked. From atop Xiangyang's walls, he had seen Fang Xuan's power more clearly than anyone.

One man, one blade—he had carved straight through the entire Mongol Yuan army, unstoppable as an Overlord reborn.

Then there had been the phantom of that giant godlike demon, whose single punch had seemed capable of shaking the heavens.

Even the Golden Wheel Dharma King, whom Guo Jing had always regarded with caution, had been unable to withstand a single punch from him.

Moreover, if not for this man, this battle would not have been won so easily. He had even saved Guo Jing's youngest daughter and slain the Mongol Yuan Khan.

When had such a master appeared in the martial world?

"Thank you for lending us your aid, little brother. Had it not been for you, Xiangyang would have been in grave peril, and so would Great Song." Guo Jing sighed.

"It was merely a chance encounter. The one who truly deserves thanks is Hero Guo for guarding Xiangyang. The greatest heroes serve their country and people. You have my deepest admiration," Fang Xuan said with a smile.

"Oh, enough with the mutual praise, you two. Little brother, your name is Fang Xuan, right? What was that martial art you used just now, the one that conjured a giant figure? Can you teach it to me?" Old Imp Zhou Botong suddenly sprang out and asked excitedly.

East Heretic Huang Yaoshi's expression changed. He knew Old Imp had the heart of a child and meant no harm, but prying into another person's martial arts was a life-and-death offense.

This man's nature was still unknown. Who knew what kind of temperament he had? And his martial arts were so formidable that he had slaughtered his way through the entire Mongol Yuan army alone. If he grew angry, who present could stand against him?

"Old Imp, do not be rude. Step back at once," Huang Yaoshi snapped.

Guo Jing hurriedly added, "Please forgive him, little brother. Old Imp means no harm; he simply admires martial arts."

Old Imp pursed his lips. "Fine, I won't ask. Why did you have to yell so loudly?"

Fang Xuan laughed. "It is nothing. This martial art of mine is called the Heaven's Will Four Symbols Art. It gathers the power of heaven and earth to form attacks, and it has four levels in total. The move I used just now was called Wrath of the Wind God. If one reaches the fourth level, Wrath of the Lightning God, a single punch can carry the power of heaven and earth, split mountains and shatter rocks, as though wielded by a god or demon. No one beneath the heavens could withstand it."

It would have been better if he had said nothing. Upon hearing that introduction, Old Imp's eyes lit up. He darted before Fang Xuan, grabbed his arm, and pleaded, "Teach me, teach me! I can become your disciple."

Having said that, he dropped to his knees and kowtowed.

"Old Imp!"

"Old Imp, how could you..."

Old Imp ignored everyone else. Kneeling on the ground, he looked up at Fang Xuan with pitiful eyes.

"Master, I've become your disciple. Teach me, teach me."

Fang Xuan was stunned for a moment. He had not expected Old Imp to kneel and acknowledge him as his master so readily. But thinking of Old Imp's childlike heart and obsession with martial arts, he understood.

With a thought, he nodded. "Fine. I will accept you as my disciple. Go bring your martial aunt here first."

"Martial... Martial Aunt?"

"Yes."

After Fang Xuan told him where to go, Old Imp used his qinggong. Before long, he had brought Zhang Jing back.

"Second brother."

Zhang Jing called out sweetly and threw herself into Fang Xuan's arms, paying no heed to the bloodstains covering him.

With a thought, he activated the Clean Clothes Talisman. The thick blood on his body vanished in an instant, revealing his flowing white robes once more and giving him an immortal, ethereal air.

The sight shocked everyone even more.

What profound internal energy.

Guo Jing led his troops back to Xiangyang. Lu Wende, the Pacification Commissioner, had already led his personal guards and officers outside the city, beating drums and blowing horns as they formed ranks to welcome them. The common people had also gathered beyond the gates, laying out wine, incense, and candles as they knelt in tribute and offered their thanks.

Every household in Xiangyang was draped in festive colors, and the whole city rejoiced. Though many fathers, brothers, and sons had fallen in the battle, the victory somewhat eased their grief.

Lu Wende had long since arranged a banquet in the city lord's residence. Everyone gathered together to drink and celebrate.

Holding a wine cup, Lu Wende approached Fang Xuan. "You must be Hero Fang! With one man and one blade, you cut through the entire Mongol Yuan army, invincible and unstoppable. You even defeated the Mongol Yuan National Preceptor, the Golden Wheel Dharma King, with a single punch. Truly, heroes emerge in their youth. I have already petitioned the imperial court to reward you for your merits, Hero Fang."

Fang Xuan said nothing more and raised his cup, draining it in one gulp.

"Excellent capacity for drink! I shall empty mine as well." Lu Wende laughed heartily.

After several rounds of wine, Fang Xuan rose and took his leave. He did not enjoy such occasions, especially not when others kept staring at him as though he were some kind of spectacle. It gave him the urge to hit someone.

"Master, I'll come with you." Old Imp followed closely behind.

Fang Xuan was quite satisfied with this white-haired Old Imp, who looked like a child. Though he acted crazily at times, he was still fairly reliable.

"You should go back and rest early as well. Come find me at dawn tomorrow, and I'll teach you the Heaven's Will Four Symbols Art."

Old Imp's face lit up with joy, and he nodded repeatedly. "Thank you, Master."

Fang Xuan took Zhang Jing's hand and, led by a servant, arrived at a small courtyard.

"Jing Er, what do you think of Old Imp?"

"He's fun."

"Then I'll have him play with you every day from now on."

"Mhm, mhm."

After arranging for Zhang Jing to rest, Fang Xuan took out the piece of gold foil left behind by the Golden Wheel Dharma King, upon which the Dragon Elephant Prajna Skill was recorded.

The gold foil was the size of a palm and engraved with tiny, densely packed characters totaling nearly a thousand words. At its center was an image of a Buddha, compassionate and sacred.

The Dragon Elephant Prajna Skill was a supreme secret art of Esoteric Buddhism, a divine protective technique with thirteen levels. The first level was extremely easy; even a dull-witted person could master it in one or two years after receiving instruction. The second level was twice as profound as the first and required three or four years. The third was twice as profound as the second and took seven or eight years. It continued to double in this fashion, becoming increasingly difficult with each level. After the fifth level, advancing even one further level generally required more than thirty years of arduous training. Throughout the generations, the Vajra Sect had produced many eminent monks and extraordinary masters, yet no one had ever cultivated the thirteen levels of the Dragon Elephant Prajna Skill beyond the tenth. This technique progressed step by step, so in principle there was no reason it could not be mastered. If someone lived for several thousand years, they would surely reach the thirteenth level in the end. But human lifespans were limited. For Vajra Sect monks and cultivators to reach the seventh or eighth level before the end of their natural lives, they had no choice but to rush their training. As a result, they often fell into the grave danger of haste making waste. During the Northern Song era, a great monk from Tubo had reached the ninth level. He continued to advance with fierce determination, but when he reached the tenth level, inner demons suddenly arose beyond his control. In the end, he danced madly for seven days and seven nights before severing his own meridians and dying.

The Golden Wheel Dharma King was a rare genius. He had reached the tenth level, a realm no one in the Vajra Sect had broken through in a thousand years. He might not be unmatched by those who came after, but he was certainly the first to achieve it. However, there was no need to even consider breaking through to the eleventh level.

"Using internal energy to temper the body, strengthen the tendons and bones, refine the internal organs, compress the density of bones and muscles, and enhance physical strength—this is an ingenious path," Fang Xuan praised.

"Unfortunately, it is a slow grinding process. One must know that the body's qi and blood are the best means of tempering the flesh. Yet it uses internal qi to drive qi and blood, then uses that qi and blood to temper the body. That adds an extra step in the middle. No wonder the progress is so slow. Still, this Small World does not cultivate qi and blood, only internal energy, so this is the only method available."