At the Barbarian King A Yanda's command, countless barbarians once more streamed out of the city in pursuit.
Unfortunately, Gu Han had always been swift as lightning, unmatched beneath the heavens. Ordinary barbarians could forget about catching him—even seeing his figure clearly was nearly impossible.
As for the Barbarian King A Yanda, he could keep up with Gu Han's speed and barely match him. But after their recent clash, he had lost the nerve to fight him one-on-one again.
After all, without the army's cover, A Yanda alone might be fine for a short while. But if the battle dragged on and his Inner Qi ran dry, that Black Robe Monk would likely beat him to death alive.
"Wang Zhongyi, do you know who that man truly is? Why has this king never heard of someone possessing such earth-shattering martial skill?"
Seated atop a handsome blood-red steed, A Yanda fiercely lowered the bow in his hand and asked Wang Zhongyi, who stood beside him with lowered head and meek brows.
"Replying to Your Majesty, this subordinate does not know."
Hearing A Yanda's question, Wang Zhongyi hurriedly answered respectfully.
"Since leaving my master's sect several decades ago, this subordinate has roamed the Central Plains martial world for many years. I can be said to know the experts of every sect and school in the Central Plains like the back of my hand, yet I truly have no impression whatsoever of this man.
"Moreover, this subordinate has traveled the martial world for years and never heard that there was currently an expert in the Central Plains who could rival Your Majesty—not even a suspected one.
"After all, Your Majesty's realm is simply too powerful. Looking through several thousand years of Central Plains martial history, aside from Bodhidharma, the founding patriarch of Treasure Pearl Temple, only its third-generation patriarch Jue Ming and its eighteenth-generation patriarch Liao Kong could stand shoulder to shoulder with Your Majesty. For such a person to suddenly emerge now is truly strange!"
Wang Zhongyi furrowed his brows. He only felt that the monk from earlier looked somewhat familiar, yet no matter how he racked his brain, he could not recall where he had seen him.
That was only natural. Back then, Wang Zhongyi and Gu Han had merely crossed paths in passing. Unlike Wang Lang, who had been defeated by a single punch and thus remembered it deeply, Wang Zhongyi had no such lasting impression. Besides, many years had passed, and Gu Han's appearance had long since changed. He had grown from an immature youth into a steady young man. Naturally, Wang Zhongyi would not recognize him.
"Enough! What a useless piece of trash. You talked for half the day, yet said nothing at all! Fine, whoever he is, this king wants him dead! Wang Zhongyi, what do you propose?"
Seeing that Wang Zhongyi's lengthy explanation had failed to give him any answer, A Yanda grew even more enraged. His eyes brimmed with hatred as he questioned Wang Zhongyi.
"Replying to Your Majesty, this..."
Wang Zhongyi's expression abruptly changed, and he secretly cried bitterly in his heart. Yet seeing A Yanda's face grow ever more gloomy, as though he might explode the next instant, he did not dare refuse outright. He could only rack his brains for a plan. After roughly the time it took to burn an incense stick, inspiration suddenly flashed through his mind, and he came up with a scheme.
"Your Majesty, this subordinate indeed has a plan. I have every confidence that it will send that bald donkey to his death and vent the fury in Your Majesty's chest."
"Oh? What plan?"
Seeing Wang Zhongyi's confident appearance, A Yanda could not help but grow curious and hurriedly asked him.
"Replying to Your Majesty, since that monk appeared beneath Treasure Pearl Mountain, whether or not he is a monk of Treasure Pearl Temple, we can claim that he obtained the treasure the temple left behind. Since its founding by Bodhidharma a thousand years ago, Treasure Pearl Temple has always stood at the pinnacle of Yan's martial world. Its temple held countless precious pills and divine arts.
"So, we can now falsely accuse that bald monk of obtaining every Great Return Pill left behind by Treasure Pearl Temple, as well as the secret of the divine art passed down by its founding patriarch Bodhidharma—a secret containing the path to breaking through into the supreme Legendary Realm.
"As the saying goes, men die for wealth, birds perish for food!
"As long as we spread this news, regardless of whether it is true or false, there will certainly be no shortage of people in the martial world who wish to kill that bald donkey.
"After all, treasures and divine arts have always been what martial artists fight over. In the past, even a martial art created by a single Inner Qi martial artist could stir up a bloody storm in the martial world, much less a peerless divine art containing the mysteries of legend.
"As long as there is the slightest possibility, those people will never let it go. And though their martial arts may be inadequate and they may not be able to defeat that monk, there are countless vile methods at their disposal—drugging, seduction, coercion, and the like.
"When that time comes, even if that bald monk has three heads and six arms, can he possibly go without food or drink while guarding against dangers that may arrive at any time, day and night?"
A sinister smile spread across Wang Zhongyi's aged face. He could not help feeling immensely pleased with the method he had devised.
"Hahaha! Truly an excellent scheme! Wang Zhongyi, you people of Yan really do have many crafty thoughts. Unlike us barbarians, who only know how to fight and kill. It seems this king must read more of your Yan people's cultural books in the future!"
A Yanda laughed heartily and sighed before continuing.
"Good! Since this plan is so splendid, we must not delay. Gather painters at once and prepare a portrait, then spread the news that the bald monk obtained divine arts and precious pills. This king wants to see exactly how that bald monk dies!"
As A Yanda spoke, he burst into another bout of booming laughter.
Naturally, Gu Han knew nothing of the plan Wang Zhongyi had offered A Yanda. After escaping the barbarian army's pursuit, he arrived at an unnamed barren mountain outside Xiongyuan City.
This was a desolate mountain filled with graves, a place rarely visited by anyone. Back then, to prevent the monks left behind by Treasure Pearl Temple from suffering harm, Gu Han had specifically chosen this place as Jingyuan's burial ground.
The grave was simple. There was no deep underground tomb manor fit for kings and nobles, only a small earthen pit, a thin coffin, and a gravestone made of stone. Upon it were several large characters carved by Gu Han's finger:
"Memorial tablet of junior brother Ran Da. Erected by senior brother Gu Han on the twenty-third day of the Wuxu month in the Jiazi year."
"Junior brother, your senior brother came to see you today. I have already avenged you. Next, your senior brother will begin wandering the world and searching for your parents. I do not know when we will meet again. If you truly have a spirit in heaven, then bless your senior brother so that I may find your parents soon and fulfill your final wish!"
Before the crude grave, Gu Han held a bowl of wine and spoke to himself. Recalling Jingyuan's voice and smile over the years, sorrow still lingered in his heart.
This had been the first friend he met in this life, and also the friend who had treated him with the greatest sincerity without seeking anything in return. Now that friend had died just like this. Gu Han was truly grief-stricken beyond measure.
Yet the dead were gone, while the living still had to press forward. The danger in his reality had yet to be resolved. With his current strength, comparable to a Half-step Second-rate Master, he could naturally sweep through everything in this world and crush all opposition. But in the real world, or even amid the peril-filled clashes of two armies, such strength was still not worth mentioning.
For in the armies of the two nations, any random commander of a thousand had already cultivated inner force. Combined with the many martial techniques of the military, their strength would rise greatly. Even if they were weaker than him now, the difference would not be great, and they far surpassed ordinary Inner Qi martial artists of this world.
Yet among the armies of the two nations, numbering in the hundreds of thousands or even millions, a commander of a thousand was merely a lower-middle-ranking officer. Above them were commandants, military commanders, generals, and marshals, who possessed the greatest strength and highest status.
Before such powerful armies, Gu Han's strength, comparable to a Half-step Second-rate Master, could not be called cannon fodder, but it was only barely enough for self-preservation. If he happened to encounter a Second-rate Master, he might well fall with hatred in his heart.
Therefore, although he was already invincible beneath the heavens in this world, he still could not waste his remaining time here. It would be best if he could swiftly break through in Inner Qi, then master every martial technique left behind by Bodhidharma before his lifetime ended. Better still, he could create an Internal Cultivation Method and break through into the Second-rate realm.
And to create an Internal Cultivation Method, he would inevitably need to gather the martial techniques created by all manner of powerful Inner Qi practitioners and draw upon the wisdom of a hundred schools.
After all, although Inner Qi martial artists had never created an Internal Cultivation Method, they had never ceased exploring the uses of Inner Qi. With their inspiration, combined with the knowledge in the mind of "Gu Han" from his previous life, creating a complete Internal Cultivation Method would still be difficult, but at last, there was a sliver of hope.
"Set off!"
Gu Han drained the bowl of watered wine in one gulp, smashed the large bowl to the ground, and finally strode toward the distant horizon.
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