Chapter 16

This life on the run wasn't much fun. If there was one advantage, it was that it effectively tempered a person's spirit. Bai Lang had trained in martial arts for more than three years since crossing over, and he was probably already much stronger-willed than before. This trek over mountains and ridges had only made him more resilient, better able to take hardship in stride.

As for whether his Martial Way had undergone some earth-shattering transformation? Don't make me laugh. Bai Lang wasn't even qualified to speak of the Martial Way yet. What he had now were merely martial skills—skill advanced toward technique, and only after technique came the realm of the Way. At present, Bai Lang had only a rough grasp of martial skills. In that other world, even mastering the Tiger Form True Intent counted as no more than a rough grasp. He still had a long way to go to turn outward practice inward.

Bai Lang had opened his Lesser Heavenly Cycle, taking the first step into the martial world, though he had entered the jianghu long ago. He hadn't neglected his daily practice while fleeing through the wilderness all this time, but training under these conditions had made one thing clear: he had reached the limit of what the Golden Bell Shield could achieve in this world.

Although the technique drew out the potential of his body, it still needed the world's vital energy to open and activate it. The vital energy here could help him open the first gate of the Thirteen Great Protectors' Adamantine Bell Shield, but that was all. Bai Lang had nearly worn the book to shreds, yet in the end, there was nothing he could do about it. "But this Thirteen Protectors' Hardening requires you to remain a virgin until you break through the fourth gate. No wonder nobody seems to practice it anymore. Even with pills and medicinal tonics, given the conditions of this world, breaking through the first gate would take at least ten years, if it were even possible. The fourth gate would be out of reach for a lifetime. There really is no point in practicing it."

So that was the limit of this world. The flying lightness skills and palm strikes that turned into dragons in martial arts movies were ultimately just special effects and adult fantasies. Bai Lang had already touched this world's ceiling—the human body could go no further. There was no road ahead. "Maybe there's no point in living after all." Bai Lang muttered to himself, while tightening his grip and holding his body firmly against the cliff.

With the strength of his body now, he could grip hard enough to crack the rock. He had been able to smash rocks even before mastering the Golden Bell Shield; now he no longer needed to deliberately circulate his energy and build up his inner power. His intent guided his inner power like an arm, and stone dust sifted down in a steady stream. He had been in the mountains for over a month, and he had clearly overestimated his skills. Flight Over Grass was, after all, a low-level martial art. It couldn't make him fly up a sheer cliff from flat ground, and even the height he could reach by pushing off was limited. The technique was better suited to racing and gliding across flat or gently uneven ground, not leaping high.

So he had covered less ground this past month than he'd expected. Even so, Bai Lang was sure he had more or less shaken the police off his trail—as long as he didn't cause any more trouble or withdraw money from a bank card. If modern technology tracked him down, he wasn't sure he could get away next time.

He had discarded his phone long ago, and after thinking it over, he had removed the hard drive from his laptop and thrown the rest away. Aside from his supplies and the money he had carefully wrapped up, he now had no modern electronic devices on him. His clothes were in tatters, too. He had packed his good clothes safely away; he planned to change into them once he was somewhere secure.

His clothes were ragged, he had no shoes, his hair was a mess, and his beard had grown in quite a bit. None of that mattered. Bai Lang had a cheap street-stall dagger. It wasn't very sturdy, but at least it was stainless steel. He could clean himself up with it, and no one would be able to tell he'd come out of the mountains like a wild man.

Now that he had achieved some success in martial arts, a sharpness had settled between Bai Lang's brows and eyes, making him seem like a tiger. When he moved, he had the tiger's lightness and agility, but also the solid heft of a great bell. This past month had tested his spirit while also allowing his martial arts to grow more rounded and integrated. The Thirty-two Forms Long Fist had been completely absorbed into the Golden Bell Shield.

The task force responsible for hunting Bai Lang still had no leads. The meeting room was smoky all day long, but there was simply no way to find him if he didn't come out of the mountains. All they could do was keep watch in the nearby cities, hoping that surveillance cameras or the lodging systems connected to the internet would pick up his trail. Capturing him would be difficult, but killing him would actually be easier. If they wanted him alive, they could use a special net gun or a taser; if they wanted him dead, they could use live ammunition. Bai Lang's martial arts were certainly outrageous—he could shatter a person's bones with a single palm strike—but he was still human.

Bai Lang knew the limitations of the Golden Bell Shield's first gate very well. Forget the first gate—even if he trained to the sixth gate described in the book, he still wouldn't be able to stop bullets. And bullets came in different kinds. If they were 12.7 or 14.5 millimeter rounds, then even the eighth or ninth gate would be useless. After all, no human strength could match a machine. Even the master who created this divine technique probably had never seen weapons like these.

But Bai Lang thought he might be able to stop a pistol bullet at the first gate—at the very least, he felt he could probably withstand a round from a Type 64 pistol at a certain distance. "If I brought modern firearms to that other world, would they work?" Bai Lang wondered. He thought they probably would, and would be very useful against ordinary martial artists, but likely not much use against masters. He had never seen a Xiantian Master, but if the Golden Bell Shield in the book really could be practiced further, then by the tenth gate, guns would probably be useless and they would need cannons instead. But artillery probably couldn't hit a master of that caliber.

That was as far as Bai Lang's understanding went. It hadn't occurred to him to wonder whether propellants from this world would work in the other one. That world had fireworks and firecrackers, so black powder worked there. Bai Lang simply assumed that all kinds of explosives would work, too.

Bai Lang's case had spread, too. After all, Douyin and Kuaishou were the friends—and ATMs—of the countryside. The case of Bai Lang killing four people in one night was uploaded by villagers in short videos as soon as they reported it. The videos were taken down almost immediately, but word had already spread.

At first, everyone just called the killer a ruthless man. But then supposed "insiders" began revealing certain "details" of the case, and the online mood shifted again. At first, everyone insisted that a man like that had to be caught—he was too brutal. But once word got out that the dead men were villagers who had bought brides and brokers who trafficked people, everyone immediately said they deserved it and called Bai Lang a righteous hero. The authorities didn't really refute the rumors, either, because they were true and there was nothing to deny. The police simply issued a statement about the case, emphasizing the unlawful killing.

People weren't ignorant of the law. They knew that even if those four men deserved to die in their eyes, it should have been the state that sentenced them openly and fairly, not an individual who beat them to death. All four were villagers with no powerful backers, and people believed that if they were arrested, they would still receive a fair trial.

Bai Lang had no idea the online opinion had turned around. If word had gotten out that he was a martial arts master who killed four people with a single strike each, the story would have drawn even more attention. As it was, more than a month later, most of the attention surrounding him had faded. A news sensation only lasted about a week, after all. Now Bai Lang stood on a mountain peak, looking toward the distant town. "Should I go check the road signs and make sure where I am?"