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Meng Zhao's deeply concealed domineering majesty suddenly dissipated by much, yet his entire aura became even more elusive.

He seemed like an uncertain, ethereal wind, like clouds that gathered and scattered without constancy, existing in a realm that was in turmoil every moment.

What stood out was change. Broadly speaking, this change meant adjustment—constantly adjusting everything within and without himself, bringing every imperfection closer to perfection.

At a deeper level, the Dao rhythm actually stemmed from the essence of the Dragon Tiger Vajra Great Qi Art: subduing one's own flaws, restraining oneself, and thereby surpassing others.

These flaws could be the dragon nature that corresponded to and yet conflicted with human nature; they could also be weaknesses in one's physique or true qi. They required constant exploration and overcoming.

And even once they were overcome, it was not a matter of overcoming them once and for all. They still needed to be adjusted at every moment.

To borrow a Buddhist verse from a great Zen master: the body is a Bodhi Tree, the mind like a bright mirror stand; diligently wipe it at every moment, and let no dust settle upon it. This was a method of discussing martial arts through the heart and explaining the Dao through Zen.

From a certain perspective, Meng Zhao had completely comprehended and deduced the essence of the Dragon Tiger Vajra Great Qi Art, then used the supreme divine power of the Crimson Dragon Heavenly Capital Secret Canon to elevate it further. It was astonishing beyond measure.

This change in that brief instant seemed insignificant, but in Yang Cai's eyes, it was truly like a torch in the night sky, incomparably dazzling. Even his own transcendent and tyrannical fighting spirit trembled from the shock.

Since beginning his martial cultivation, he had considered himself a