Setting aside the growth in the so-called path of fortune, Meng Zhao himself had undergone quite a few changes as well.
For instance, his aptitude, comprehension, and flashes of inspiration seemed even stronger than before. His aptitude and comprehension were difficult to gauge; Meng Zhao had already possessed peerless talent, someone who could sweep aside his contemporaries. His foundation was simply too high. Were it not for Meng Zhao's extraordinary sensitivity and meticulous control over his body, he would not even have noticed that slight improvement.
The greatest change was, in fact, those flashes of inspiration. Such inspiration was a kind of sudden enlightenment, a manifestation of transcending one's own knowledge and wisdom, yet unexpectedly gaining something immense by chance.
For example, after decades of cultivation and tempering, a martial artist might, under a particular environment and at a particular moment, execute an exquisitely subtle move that seemed divinely wrought and impossible to use under ordinary circumstances. That was the change brought by a flash of inspiration.
For ordinary martial artists, a flash of inspiration was actually useless, because its greatest strength lay in raising a genius's upper limit. That was what delighted Meng Zhao most.
Secondly, Meng Zhao's spiritual perception had become sharper, and his intuition stronger. Like now—although he was merely following Gan Mingfeng toward the possible location of Xingtian's Head, he often needed no reminder from Gan Mingfeng at all. Naturally, he could find the correct path.
He was certain that although his spiritual perception had been strong before, it had never been this strong. The dragon vein was likely exerting its effects passively.
Sometimes rushing ahead, sometimes proceeding slowly, after another two days or so, the pair finally arrived at a mysterious place.
Having already passed through the peculiar space of the Town Evil Golden Hall,