A Note

At the same time Meng Zhao emerged from seclusion, within Lingwu's inner city, in the Hundred Fragrances Garden.

Inside a colorful room with a distinctly girlish air.

Tie Xiongfei sat cross-legged on a meditation cushion in the corner, dressed in a tightly fitting bright yellow robe. His eyes were closed, his five centers turned toward heaven. A faint metallic gleam surfaced across his body, making him resemble a bronze man—seemingly indestructible, possessed of the strength for Mountain Uprooting, Cauldron Lifting.

His aura blended with heaven and earth. Origin energy, like a surging river, was drawn into his body and transformed into true qi, strengthening his cultivation.

It had to be said that when Tie Xiongfei had been besieged by the many Innate Martial Dao experts of Meng Mansion, he had indeed narrowly escaped death.

Yet it had also been a different kind of experience. Between life and death, his potential had been stirred, allowing his realm to rise.

During these days of hiding in the Hundred Fragrances Garden, he, who had once indulged freely in wine and women, had become astonishingly disciplined.

Every day, he tempered his fists and legs, circulated his true qi, studied martial arts with profound contemplation. His diligence was moving.

After losing everything he once possessed, he had come to understand more deeply that in this world, only strength, only martial arts, were truly his to grasp and not easily snatched away by others.

Of course, Tie Xiongfei had also kept watch over the developments outside. He had been waiting for the Dark Sun assassin organization to launch another assassination attempt against Meng Zhao, to see whether it could succeed.

That would determine whether he would take over Eternal Mausoleum as a victor in the future, or lower his head to Meng Zhao as a loser