Taking Leave

Xu Wuyi tried using his spiritual power to touch that phantom, carefully sensing every detail.

Feathers, talons, pupils, flames...

Everything was perfect.

Yet that sense of something missing still remained.

Xu Wuyi opened his eyes and looked out the window.

The bamboo grove had vanished completely into the night, leaving only the sound of wind rustling through bamboo leaves.

He suddenly recalled what Wang Hanshan had said that afternoon.

"The sense of something missing you described isn't a problem with your Heart Image. It's that you yourself feel something is still lacking."

He himself felt something was lacking.

But what, exactly, was missing?

Xu Wuyi did not know.

He only knew that Wang Hanshan could not give him the answer to this question. Perhaps the journey ahead could.

Early the next morning.

Before dawn had fully broken, Xu Wuyi woke up.

He pushed open the window. The morning mist in the mountains had yet to disperse, and the bamboo grove was shrouded in a veil-like layer of fog. The air was fresh and moist, carrying the scent of earth and green grass.

After washing up, he left the side room.

Wang Hanshan was already practicing his fists in the clearing.

The old man's movements were very slow—so slow that every punch and every step could be seen clearly. Yet it was precisely this slowness that gave off an indescribable sense of power.

It was as if it was not a fist moving, but a mountain.

Xu Wuyi stood beneath the eaves and watched silently.

Wang Hanshan ignored him and continued practicing.

By the time he finished a set of punches, half an hour had passed.

Wang Hanshan withdrew his fists, exhaled a breath of turbid air, and turned to Xu Wuyi.

"You're up? Good. Have breakfast with this old