The Desolate Heaven Emperor Punches Men Every Day

It was four in the morning. The horizon remained pitch black, and even the moon had retreated behind the clouds.

Behind Shrek Academy, in front of a hundred-meter-tall cliff face, a shirtless youth sat cross-legged atop a massive boulder. His eyes were closed, his breathing long and steady; every inhalation and exhalation felt like a dialogue with heaven and earth.

A mountain breeze swept past, raising goosebumps on his bronze skin, yet he remained entirely oblivious.

Shi Hao.

He was waiting.

Waiting for a specific moment.

Four in the morning was the hour when yin and yang transitioned between heaven and earth. In the Perfect World, this was the time when it was easiest to draw upon the spiritual energy of heaven and earth to temper the physical body. Although he had arrived on the Douluo Continent and spiritual energy had become soul power, Shi Hao believed the underlying principles remained the same.

"The time has come."

Shi Hao opened his eyes, two beams of sharp light shooting from his pupils, carving bright trails through the darkness.

He stood up and stretched his limbs, his bones popping and cracking like a string of firecrackers. He rolled his neck, rotated his shoulders, kicked his legs, and then faced the hundred-meter cliff, drawing in a deep breath.

The cliff was made of granite, incredibly hard, covered in moss and vines, with small, nameless trees sprouting from the fissures. The mountain had stood for who knows how many years, enduring wind, rain, and sun, yet it remained unshakable.

Shi Hao stared at the cliff, his gaze gradually turning scorching, like two burning fires.

He slowly clenched his right fist, muscles tightening and veins bulging. His entire arm seemed cast from molten iron, brimming with explosive power. His breathing grew rapid, his heart hammered, and blood surged through his vessels with a rushing sound.

"Arbitrary Eternity!"

His voice exploded like a thunderclap, shaking loose gravel from the cliff face.

"Suppress everything!"

The second shout was even louder; the dust on the ground was kicked up by the sound waves, spreading outward.

"Hah--!"

Shi Hao's right fist slammed forward.

This punch held no flashy techniques, no brilliant light—only pure power. Pure, savage, primitive, destructive power.

The fist struck the cliff.

"BOOM!"

A massive roar echoed through the valley. The cliff shuddered violently, stone fragments flew, and dust filled the air. Where his fist landed, the granite shattered, leaving a fist-sized crater with cracks spreading outward like a spiderweb.

The mountain did not fall.

Shi Hao was unsatisfied.

"Not enough! Again!"

The second punch slammed out.

"BOOM!"

The third punch.

"BOOM!"

The fourth punch.

"BOOM, BOOM, BOOM, BOOM--"

Shi Hao's fists rained down upon the cliff like a storm, one after another, each heavier and more vicious than the last. He used no technique, no flair—just pure, savage, reckless hammering.

Flesh and blood against granite.

With every strike, a new wound appeared on his knuckles; with every strike, fresh blood splattered; with every strike, the pain of bone against stone surged through his nerves.

But he did not care.

In the Perfect World, this was how he trained. Using the most primitive methods to temper the strongest body. Pain meant he wasn't strong enough; injury meant he needed more training.

"Arbitrary Eternity!"

"Arbitrary Eternity!"

"Arbitrary Eternity!"

With every punch, he roared "Arbitrary Eternity." His voice grew hoarse, but his momentum became increasingly fierce. His fists were a bloody mess, the skin over his knuckles long since ground away to reveal the white bone beneath. Blood dripped from his fingers, pooling into a small puddle on the stone beneath his feet.

Yet, Shi Hao's eyes grew brighter and more manic.

The hundredth punch.

"Arbitrary Eter--nity--!"

For the final strike, he poured every ounce of his remaining strength into the blow against the cliff.

"RUMBLE--"

The cliff shook violently, as if an earthquake had struck. The granite at the point of impact shattered completely, forming a massive depression nearly a meter wide and half a meter deep. Cracks radiated from the center, covering a dozen meters of the cliff face, making it look as though it had been struck by lightning.

The mountain still did not fall.

But Shi Hao smiled.

He pulled back his fist, looked at his mangled, bloodied hands, and nodded in satisfaction. "Not bad. Ten more punches than yesterday."

He turned around, just about to sit down and rest—

"Is this guy sick? Smashing the mountain at the crack of dawn?"

A crisp female voice drifted over from the direction of the academy.

Shi Hao looked up.

Ning Rongrong was draped over a second-floor window, rubbing her sleepy eyes, looking at him with utter disdain. Her hair was a mess, she was wearing pink pajamas, and a pillow crease was still visible on her face.

Clearly, she had been woken up by the sound of Shi Hao smashing the mountain.

Shi Hao frowned, just about to say something, when another voice rang out.

"Another lunatic."

Zhu Zhuqing had appeared by the edge of the training grounds at some point. She was wearing a tight-fitting black outfit, her hair tied into a high ponytail, looking as if she were preparing for morning exercise. She glanced at Shi Hao coldly, her eyes devoid of any extra emotion, as if she were looking at a rock on the side of the road.

Shi Hao's expression shifted.

The word "lunatic" pierced his ears like a needle.

His brows stood up, his mouth curled downward, and his nostrils flared slightly—this was the sign that he was preparing to strike back in the Perfect World.

"Who are you calling a lunatic?" Shi Hao's voice was low, carrying a sense of oppression.

Zhu Zhuqing stopped in her tracks and tilted her head to look at him, her gaze remaining indifferent: "You."

Shi Hao's pupils constricted slightly, then his mouth slowly spread into a dangerous grin.

"If you've got the guts, let's fight!"

Zhu Zhuqing did not refuse.

She was not someone who enjoyed fighting, but she disliked being threatened even more. Besides, she wanted to see exactly what this madman who smashed the mountain every day was made of.

"Fine."

A single word, clean and crisp.

Zhu Zhuqing's figure vanished in an instant.

It wasn't that she was "hard to see"; she had truly "vanished"—her speed was too fast, so fast that she didn't even leave an afterimage behind. This was the trait of the Hell Spirit Cat martial soul: extreme speed, extreme agility, and extreme critical strikes.

Shi Hao's pupils shrank, his body reacting on instinct—he crossed his arms to shield his chest.

"Bang!"

Zhu Zhuqing's fist slammed into Shi Hao's forearm.

The power of this punch wasn't heavy, but the angle was incredibly tricky, striking exactly at the weak point of Shi Hao's defense. For an ordinary person, this single strike would have been enough to collapse their defense.

But Shi Hao was no ordinary person.

He didn't even take a step back.

Zhu Zhuqing frowned slightly, her figure vanishing again, appearing behind Shi Hao in the next second to kick at his lower back.

Shi Hao turned and grabbed—but caught nothing.

Zhu Zhuqing's speed was too fast, like a ghost, flickering left and right, front and back, every attack coming from a different angle. Her fists, hand-blades, elbow strikes, knee strikes, and kicks rained down on Shi Hao like a storm.

One second, ten punches.

Ten seconds, a hundred punches.

Zhu Zhuqing's speed grew faster and her attacks more dense; the air was filled with the sound of "pitter-patter" impacts, as if someone were setting off firecrackers.

She struck Shi Hao for a full minute, landing at least a hundred blows.

Every punch landed on a vital point—the throat, the temple, the heart, the liver, the kidneys, the spine...

But Shi Hao remained motionless.

He stood there, his feet as if nailed to the ground, his body swaying slightly, but he did not retreat a single step. Red marks appeared on his skin, some places even turning bruised and purple, but he didn't even furrow his brow.

Zhu Zhuqing's punching speed slowed down, and for the first time, a ripple appeared in her eyes—not fear, but confusion.

She had thrown over a hundred punches, each one with all her might, but this man was like a mountain; he simply wouldn't budge.

"Are you done?" Shi Hao grinned, revealing two rows of white, gleaming teeth.

Zhu Zhuqing's heart skipped a beat.

She wanted to retreat, but it was too late.

Shi Hao's hand suddenly shot out, impossibly fast—his speed was clearly inferior to Zhu Zhuqing's, but the timing of this grab was perfect, catching her at the exact moment her old strength was spent and her new strength had yet to arise.

His large hand clamped onto Zhu Zhuqing's left ankle.

Zhu Zhuqing's pupils shrank.

Shi Hao's hand was like an iron vice, locking onto her ankle firmly; no matter how she struggled, she couldn't break free. Her body hung in mid-air like a fish pulled from the water, struggling desperately but to no avail.

"Let go of me!" Zhu Zhuqing said coldly.

Shi Hao did not let go.

His mouth curled wider, and a flash of excitement flickered in his eyes—the excitement of a hunter who had finally caught his prey.

"Turtle Fist, First Form—"

Shi Hao took a deep breath, the muscles in his arms bulging violently as veins stood out like coiling dragons.

"Turtle Hammer Swing!"

He swung his arm with a sudden, explosive force. Zhu Zhuqing was sent flying, cast away like a stone from a catapult, tracing an arc through the air as she hurtled into the distance at an astonishing speed.

As the wind whistled, Zhu Zhuqing struggled to adjust her posture in mid-air, attempting to stabilize herself—

Just then, a white figure shot into the sky.

Dai Mubai.

He had just returned from his morning workout and, seeing Zhu Zhuqing sent flying from afar, he didn't hesitate. Pushing off the ground with both feet, he launched himself into the air like a cannonball and caught her.

The two spun in the air a few times to dissipate the momentum before landing steadily on the ground.

Dai Mubai set Zhu Zhuqing down and checked her ankle—no fracture, just some redness and swelling; it didn't seem serious. He let out a sigh of relief and then looked up, his tiger eyes glaring at Shi Hao.

"What are you doing?"

Dai Mubai's voice was low and carried a sense of oppression. His White Tiger Martial Soul granted him a certain aura when he was angry, and ordinary people would have had their legs turn to jelly under such a stare.

Shi Hao shrugged, looking indifferent. "She insulted me first."

"What did she call you?"

"A psycho."

Dai Mubai: "..."

He glanced at Zhu Zhuqing, then back at Shi Hao, his mouth twitching. He wanted to say, "Aren't you?", but thought better of it and swallowed the words—saying something like that now would only escalate the conflict.

"Shi Hao," Dai Mubai took a deep breath, "we're all classmates, there's no need to resort to violence."

"She started it," Shi Hao replied righteously.

Dai Mubai looked at Zhu Zhuqing.

Zhu Zhuqing said coldly, "He said, 'If you've got the guts, let's fight,' so I accepted."

Dai Mubai: "..."

He looked at Shi Hao's bloodied, mangled fists, then at Zhu Zhuqing's swollen ankle, and suddenly felt a headache coming on.

These two—one was a madman, the other a stubborn mule.

"Forget it," Dai Mubai waved his hand. "Let's both take a step back. Let today's business end here."

Shi Hao curled his lip. "I have no objections."

Zhu Zhuqing nodded. "Neither do I."

The two exchanged a glance, snorted in unison, and turned away.

Dai Mubai breathed a sigh of relief and led Zhu Zhuqing away. Before leaving, he looked back at Shi Hao—the youth was covered in wounds, his hands dripping with blood, yet he stood there like an immovable mountain.

"What a monster," Dai Mubai whispered.

Zhu Zhuqing didn't speak, but she glanced back at Shi Hao with a complex expression.

By the training grounds, Ning Rongrong was pressed against a window, having watched the entire fight from start to finish. Her mouth had remained agape the whole time, her eyes wide, her face written with disbelief.

"Zhu Zhuqing hit him hundreds of times, and Shi Hao is completely fine?" Ning Rongrong muttered. "What is he made of? Steel?"

Beside her, Oscar had also woken up at some point and was leaning against the window, looking equally shocked. "And he even threw her! Zhu Zhuqing is so fast, yet he managed to grab her ankle!"

"Too terrifying," Ning Rongrong shrank back. "Let's stay away from him in the future."

Oscar nodded frantically.

On the top floor of the teaching building, in Flender's office.

Flender stood by the window, holding a cup of hot tea and looking toward the back mountain with a complex expression.

"Dean, aren't you going to do something about it?" Yu Xiaogang stood behind him, holding a clipboard filled with data.

"Do what?" Flender took a sip of tea. "They haven't broken any school rules."

"Shi Hao smashes the mountain at four every morning, waking up the entire academy," Yu Xiaogang flipped a page on his clipboard. "Seven teachers have already complained."

"Let them complain," Flender waved his hand. "It's not like they're complaining about me."

Yu Xiaogang: "..."

"Besides," Flender set down his teacup, a glint of sharpness in his eyes, "this Shi Hao is no simple character. His physical strength has far surpassed other soul masters of his level; he's even stronger than some Soul Saint-level powerhouses. If he can maintain this cultivation speed, his future will be limitless."

Yu Xiaogang nodded. "Indeed. His method of body tempering is barbaric, but the results are significant. It's just..."

"Just what?"

"Just that he keeps shouting about 'Arbitrary Eternity,' and I'm worried about his mental state." Yu Xiaogang adjusted his glasses.

Flender was silent for a moment. "He was already a psycho. You just realized that today?"

Yu Xiaogang: "..."

On the training ground, Shi Hao turned around and faced the mountain wall once more.

He looked at his bloodied, mangled fist and frowned. "My hand hurts a bit; let's call it a day."

He walked over to the nearby pool and submerged his hand in the icy spring water, washing away the blood and stone fragments. The spring water turned a pale red, but the wounds stopped bleeding quickly—his self-healing ability was far stronger than that of an ordinary person.

After washing his hands, Shi Hao stood up and took a deep breath.

The horizon was already turning a pale white, and the morning light pierced through the clouds, casting its glow upon the cliff face and illuminating the massive indentation with perfect clarity.

Shi Hao looked at the indentation and nodded in satisfaction.

"Continue tomorrow."

Then, he took a deep breath and shouted at the top of his lungs—

"Arbitrary Eternity--!"

The voice echoed through the valley like thunder, startling the birds in the trees into a panicked flight, sending the insects in the grass scurrying for cover, and shaking—

"Cock-a-doodle-doo--!"

Every chicken in the village next to the academy was jolted awake. The roosters stretched their necks to crow, the hens ran about in terror, and the entire village was thrown into chaos.

An old farmer ran out draped in his clothes, looked toward the distant cliff, and cursed loudly, "Which bastard is shouting 'Arbitrary Eternity' at the crack of dawn?! You've scared my chickens out of their minds!"

No one answered him.

Shi Hao had already returned to the academy for breakfast.

The old farmer grumbled as he went back inside, but the roosters kept on crowing, continuing until the sun had fully risen.

The next morning.

The old farmer rose early to feed his chickens and, while passing the village entrance, saw a crowd gathered at the foot of the mountain, pointing and whispering.

"What's going on?" The old farmer walked over and squeezed into the crowd.

Then, he froze.

On the cliff face, a massive human-shaped indentation had appeared—nearly a meter deep, perfectly shaped like a person with limbs outstretched, as if someone had been pressed into the stone.

It was the indentation Shi Hao had smashed out yesterday, which, combined with his previous efforts, had formed a perfect human silhouette.

"This... this is..." a villager stammered.

"The Mountain God has manifested!" another villager suddenly knelt down. "It must be the Mountain God!"

"Right! The Mountain God has manifested!" The other villagers followed suit, kneeling and kowtowing fervently.

The old farmer stood there, stunned for a long time, before he too knelt and piously kowtowed three times.

"Mountain God, bless me, and please keep my chickens from going crazy again."

High atop a distant peak, Shi Hao sat cross-legged, watching the villagers kneeling at the foot of the mountain, and scratched his head.

"Mountain God? What Mountain God?"

He thought about it, couldn't make sense of it, and decided to stop thinking.

He closed his eyes and continued his cultivation.

"Arbitrary Eternity, suppress all!"

The voice echoed through the valley, and the villagers at the foot of the mountain kowtowed even more diligently.

"The Mountain God has manifested! The Mountain God has manifested again!"

Shi Hao: "...Are they out of their minds?"

Forget it, let them be.

He had a mountain to keep smashing.