Martial cultivation had never been a journey of nothing but bitter training and relentless self-pressure. It was a long road of tension and release, of motion and stillness in harmony.
Push yourself too hard, and the result might instead be the opposite of what you wanted.
As it happened, when he had come to the Southern Frontier, he had traveled almost entirely by flying boat in order to save time, journeying day and night and missing far too much of the scenery along the way.
Now that there was nothing urgent for him to rush off and do, he might as well use the journey back to properly take in this stretch of heaven and earth.
Thus, Li Bufan slowed his pace. He no longer circulated the Windfire Wandering Step, instead making his way slowly down the Official Road like an ordinary traveler.
The Southern Frontier's scenery truly lived up to its reputation. After leaving Hundred Flowers City, he found nothing but rolling forests of lush green.
The distant mountains faded in and out amid the thin mist, like brushstrokes bleeding across an ink-wash painting. Now and then, streams wound down from the mountains, their waters babbling softly and clear enough to reveal the pebbles beneath, gleaming with a gentle luster beneath the sunlight.
As he walked, he sank his mind into himself and carefully reflected upon everything he had gained over this period.
The Spiritual Sense of the Yang God Realm had transformed him in every aspect. He could now perceive details that had once been utterly beyond his notice.
Every tiny obstruction his True Essence encountered as it flowed through his meridians, every rise and fall as his blood and qi circulated through his organs, and every subtle shift in the trails traced by Vital Energy as it