On life's road, two neighboring mountaintops beneath the same bright moonlit night.
At a village crossroads, people discussed the rise and fall of the world. In the palace, the Prime Minister on night duty gnawed on an oily fried cake.
Scholars loved painting old fishermen angling in the snow, never caring whether those fishermen shivered like quails in the bitter cold.
Xie Gou suddenly sighed. "Mountain Lord, honestly, I sometimes envy you fist fighters."
Chen Ping'an smiled. "How so?"
Xie Gou pointed at the sole Martial Cultivator atop the neighboring mountain. Unlike those Dao Cultivators either practicing breathing exercises or idly chatting, he was dozing off. Every so often, he opened his eyes, his gaze swiftly sweeping the surroundings. Clearly, he followed a path of cultivating both within and without. His eyes shone brightly, divine radiance concealed within. In any ordinary martial world, he would certainly have counted as a true expert.
Once a Pure Martial Artist's fist intent entered his body, true qi filled every acupoint, as though protected by spirits. That was the one thing Xie Gou envied about Martial Cultivators: they could sleep soundly every day!
Unlike Qi refiners, aside from those capable of carrying a Dao Field on their backs as they roamed about, anyone traveling abroad had to worry about enemies keeping them in mind and lying in ambush. Would a blow to the back of the head suddenly come at any time, in any place?
Once the distance stretched wide enough, when it came to the keenness of divine sense, how could even a Limitless Martial Cultivator compare to an Earth Immortal capable of using Palm Views Mountains and Rivers?
Especially when a sword cultivator faced a Martial Artist—by rights, a flying sword would flash out and return, and the latter would end with