Fang Xiaoxiao's Message

The sunlight outside was just right. The river shimmered with sparkling waves as several cargo ships slowly sailed past.

The distant city looked especially tranquil beneath the sun. Traffic flowed through the streets, pedestrians hurried along, each heading toward their own destination.

Xu Wuyi watched for a while, then turned and returned to the training room.

Since the martial art had already taken shape—and had directly reached perfection—the next step was daily cultivation.

He stood still in the middle of the training room and assumed the opening stance once more.

Holding the Origin and Guarding the One, shoulders sunk and elbows dropped, waist relaxed and hips tucked.

His will guided the power of order out from his sea of consciousness, slowly flowing along that completely finalized route toward his limbs and bones.

But this time, the feeling was entirely different.

That route was smoother than before. The power of order circulated more efficiently than before, and its body-tempering effects were more apparent than before.

Most importantly, the net that maintained the operation of the rules had now completely fused into his body, becoming a part of his life.

He no longer needed to deliberately maintain it; it would operate on its own. He no longer needed to deliberately adjust it; it would optimize itself.

He only needed to do one thing: practice it again and again, persist again and again.

Xu Wuyi began his daily cultivation, gaining a hundred moments of insight and a thousand moments of great enlightenment every day.

The morning sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows into the training room, casting a patch of warm light across the floor.

Xu Wuyi stood in the center of the training room, maintaining the posture of Holding the Origin and Guarding the One as he slowly exhaled a breath of