At Spirit Bird Peak of the Sun Moon Sect, a pigeon was chasing a sparrow with a fresh flower clutched in its beak. Diao Da, meanwhile, flicked the bangs from his forehead and showed his luxuriant plumage to that fellow from the same sect—or rather, to the owl named Tou Ying.
At Black Mountain Peak, the peak lord Black Bear Demon was lecturing his disciples on the proper way to raise bees, as well as specific measures for guarding against "Jiang Yuni of Twin Pearl Peak."
At Qilin Arm Peak, those fellows whose heads were probably a few cards short of a full deck continued hammering away at a large tree. No one knew when it had been left there, nor even what species it was. Anyway, according to one fellow from the Qilin Arm Sect, as long as they punched down one tree in that patch of forest, they would be allowed to leave the mountain.
Jiang Lin said nothing about it. He simply reserved the trees those fellows would eventually punch down. After all, after being hammered for so many years, even the flimsiest wood would have been beaten solid by now.
Meanwhile, atop Twin Pearl Peak, Jiang Lin sat on a stone bench with Little Niannian in his arms. Before them stood Chen Jia, her fist techniques as swift as the wind.
Every punch Chen Jia threw was so heavy it seemed capable of blasting a hole through the vault of heaven. Yet despite their weight, her punches held not the slightest trace of clumsiness.
Jiang Lin knew she had withdrawn her Fist Aura, but the fist intent that had been tempered to the utmost and now flowed unconsciously through her body was even more astonishing.
Actually, the greatest difference between Martial Warriors and cultivators lay not