Chapter 217: Skill Nearing Dao

Chapter 217: Skill Approaching the Dao

What heavy boots... Cold sweat broke across Zhang Yuanqing's forehead; from Fu Qingyang's faintly trembling arms, he deduced this artifact was no lightweight.

But he hadn't expected it to be this heavy—it directly crushed his arm bones.

Wait, if the boots are this heavy, why didn't Fu Qingyang warn me... Zhang Yuanqing looked up and caught the expression on Fu Qingyang's face—outwardly cold, yet harboring a mischievous glint.

So petty, still angry over the "ruined reputation" incident?

"Ah, these boots are light as nothing in the Centurion's hands, yet in mine they weigh ten thousand jun. The Centurion and I truly differ by ten thousand li." Zhang Yuanqing exclaimed loudly.

At these words, Fu Qingyang gave a slight nod: "Put it in your inventory. Once bound, it will become heavy in the ordinary sense. Before binding, you cannot lift it."

Zhang Yuanqing nodded, but didn't immediately stow the boots, for at that moment the item's attribute description surfaced:

[Name: Houtu Boots]

[Type: Footwear]

[Function: Mountain God (Incomplete); Fatal Kick]

[Description: These shoes are woven from sacred mountain silkworm silk, light as feathers, unbreakable by blades. Later buried in the sacred mountain for thirty-three years, they swallowed dragon vein qi and refined the essence of eight directions before taking form. Named: Houtu Boots.]

[Note 1: It is a component of the Heavenly Sacrifice Ceremonial Garb. The remaining three pieces are: Crown, Robe, Belt. Legend says assembling the four-piece set can penetrate the secret of immortality.]

[Note 2: Once worn, you become an honest man—down-to-earth in conduct.]

[Note 3: As everyone knows, honest men have quite good endurance.]

Mountain God? I recall Mountain God is the class name for Earth Monsters after job advancement. Incomplete means it only possesses part of the Mountain God's abilities... Notes 2 and 3 are clearly the price, those three words "honest man" make me a bit nervous...

A thought struck Zhang Yuanqing, and he deposited the Houtu Boots pressing on his arm into his inventory, completing the binding.

The next second, the Houtu Boots were summoned from the inventory, landing on the carpet with a thud.

Zhang Yuanqing, arms hanging limp, lifted his left foot—and without removing his shoe, slid it into the Houtu Boot's opening. The collar expanded on its own, easily accommodating his left foot.

Not as convenient as the Red Dancing Shoes, but acceptable... Zhang Yuanqing repeated the process for his right foot.

The instant he donned the boots, he naturally comprehended the Houtu Boots' functions and purpose, and understood their cost.

First, Fatal Kick: concentrate the power of the earth into the legs, delivering a strike at the Saint realm. Usable only three times a day.

With this ability alone, I can instantly kill ordinary Transcendents—provided it's purely a contest of physical bodies... Zhang Yuanqing rejoiced inwardly.

Second, Mountain God. The Mountain God has two abilities total:

One, absorb earth vein essence.

Absorb earth vein essence, converting it into endless stamina—this is why Earth Monsters possess inexhaustible endurance.

As long as feet touch the earth, even fighting for three days and three nights brings no fatigue.

If only the production team's donkey knew this skill... Zhang Yuanqing mused.

Two, refine a region, becoming the "god" of that region—hence the name Mountain God.

The ideal region is deep mountains, for thus the Mountain God can leverage terrain to contend even with enemies above his own level.

Next comes flat ground; the worst is the city.

"It sounds just like the Mountain God of myths and legends. Then would there be a Water God as well? Besides, refining a region and the Yin-Yang Robe's Water-Fire Formation can complement each other," Zhang Yuanqing mused inwardly.

Regarding the cost, Note 1 lists two prices in total: one is being an honest man, the other is keeping one's feet on the ground.

The so-called honest man refers to a disposition turning dull and loyal; the most intuitive explanation is this: one day Guan Ya asks him, "Did you peek at any young ladies' chests today?"

The usual Zhang Yuanqing would answer: "I only look at you."

After putting on the Houtu Boots, his answer becomes: "I, I... looked at several young ladies..." (a face full of shame).

The other price: keeping one's feet on the ground.

Literally meaning, while wearing the Houtu Boots, one's leaping amplitude is greatly reduced, essentially restricted to the ground.

Note 2 is both a price and an ability; the endurance mentioned here refers not only to physical stamina but also mental endurance—for instance, patience, the capacity to endure pain, the tolerance for provocation, and so on.

At this moment, Fu Qingyang at his side commented:

"The Houtu Boots are a fine artifact. If you can utilize the Mountain God's ability well, you could rival Zhao Chenghuang."

Given Yuan Shi's current strength, he actually falls a segment short of Zhao Chenghuang.

Without that suit of armor, Yuan Shi's Yin Corpse would be destroyed in short order; at that time, with Zhao Chenghuang coordinating with the Yin Corpse to besiege him, Yuan Shi would undoubtedly lose.

Let's try equipping the Yin-Yang Robe next, see if there's a set skill... Zhang Yuanqing, seemingly not having heard Fu Qingyang's words, drew the Yin-Yang Robe from his inventory.

Since it is a set, there must be bonuses between the components; otherwise, it wouldn't be called a set.

But whether this bonus requires the full set to appear, or just two pieces, Zhang Yuanqing was uncertain.

*Whoosh~*

The robe unfurled, draping over his shoulders.

Zhang Yuanqing sensed carefully for a moment, a look of pleasant surprise appearing on his face.

As expected, there was a set skill: when the Yin-Yang Formation is deployed, the Water and Fire Avatars would no longer be a Flame Man and a Water Body; the Houtu Boots would grant the two avatars physical form—Clay Men!

The Clay Men's bodies are impregnable, possessed of infinite strength.

The source of Zhang Yuanqing's delight lay in finally making up for the Water-Fire Avatars' insufficient output.

If he had the Houtu Boots during the arena match, with the Yin-Yang Formation deployed, Zhang Yuanqing guaranteed he could beat Zhao Chenghuang until even his great-grandfather wouldn't recognize him.

"That robe of yours is..."

Fu Qingyang froze for a moment, a look of astonishment flashing in his eyes.

As a Scout, he gleaned the truth from Yuan Shi's micro-expressions and the motion of drawing the robe.

Zhang Yuanqing did not conceal it: "This robe is a hidden artifact I obtained from Yin-Yang Town; it is part of the Heaven-Worshipping Set, and so are the Houtu Boots."

Fu Qingyang had already composed his astonishment, nodding slightly:

"No wonder you asked me to check the Houtu Boots' attributes back then. Sets are exceedingly rare; to date, the sets we have collected and know of number no more than ten. Each is worth a city."

"Even the Elders find it difficult to collect a full set. Yuan Shi, your luck is quite good."

Zhang Yuanqing's face broke into a smile he could scarcely contain: "I intend to assemble the Heaven-Sacrificing Set; that way, I can use it all the way to the Dominator Realm."

Fu Qingyang: "That is difficult. Within the Five Elements Alliance, those who have completed a set can be counted on one hand. Every single one is a Chosen of Heaven."

Zhang Yuanqing asked: "Has anyone on the official side completed a set?"

Fu Qingyang: "Me!"

I shouldn't have asked. So he was waiting for me here... Zhang Yuanqing bowed his head to the floor: "Centurion, you're amazing! Beneath the Dominators, who else but me? Come the mid-year, I'll reach the Dominator Realm, ascend the Lingxiao, and reign supreme over the Five Elements Alliance."

Fu Qingyang glanced at him: "You rest first. Knit your broken bones. Stay here for lunch at noon."

...

Two PM. The Arena.

Figures descended one after another. The originally empty stands became packed to the rafters in two or three seconds, a crushing sea of black heads.

Zhang Yuanqing appeared at random somewhere in the stands; not a single official Walker beside him did he recognize.

But others recognized him.

"Ah~ Yuan Shi Tianzun!!"

The scream came from a lovely young woman, hand clamped over her mouth, face alight with surprise.

The few female companions beside her wore expressions of equal excitement and thrill.

So I'm an idol-tier figure now... Zhang Yuanqing felt a surge of joy, about to unleash his social skills and chat up the young ladies, when he suddenly caught sight of Guan Ya in the distance, watching him with a smile.

His life mentor's teachings flashed through his mind.

Zhang Yuanqing gave a slight nod, mimicking Fu Qingyang's bearing. With a face of icy detachment, he swept past the female colleagues without haste, walking toward the Old Lady Siji.

"Huh, he's so cold. Not like the lively act he puts on during matches."

"Cold is good. Means he won't mess around with girls. I like an abstinent male god."

Women liking abstinent male gods is the same logic as men liking ice queens. Though I can't have them, at least they're pure. Promiscuous men and women never have good reputations, because the suitors lusting after their beauty know full well their male gods and goddesses are rolling in the sheets with someone else every night...

His life mentor's words surfaced in his mind once more.

"Sister Guan Ya!" He sat down beside the Old Lady Siji.

Zhang Yuanqing knew that seeking her out first upon entry would surely win favor, and his cold attitude toward the "fans" just now would brush up another stack of favorability points.

"Mm!" Guan Ya nodded, her smile radiant, her eyes hiding deep satisfaction.

The chaotic shuffling of seats ended quickly. The Queen did not watch today's matches; Guan Ya said she happened to be on duty today, forced to remain in reality with tears in her eyes.

As for Little Green Tea and Jiang Zhenwei, Zhang Yuanqing saw neither.

Amidst the clang of colliding scales, the Armored Swordsman took the stage. After a brief opening address, every Walker present received a duel list popping up from the Lingjing.

"Fengdu Ghost King vs. Yi Wei Du Jiang"

"Ling Jun vs. Ru Hong De Fen Tou"

"Fu Qingyang vs. Sheng Huo Xiong Xiong"

“……”

Zhang Yuanqing scanned the roster of combatants with a quick glance, exclaiming in pleasant surprise:

“We’ve barely begun, and already so many star-tier contestants are taking the stage?”

In the Extraordinary-stage matches, few star-tier players had appeared on the very first day.

Guan Ya explained: “The number of Deacons is limited to begin with. Even in a super-tier city like Songhai, there are only a dozen or two Sages, and not all of them are guaranteed to enter the tournament.”

Many of the older Sages, unless they were confident in their ability to squeeze into the top ten, would not participate.

On one hand, they might not be forced into a Killing Dungeon; on the other, losing would be a grave humiliation.

Deacons are the backbone of the official organization; when the Elders are absent, they are the highest-ranking leaders the official walkers ever encounter.

To a leader, face is more important than anything else.

Zhang Yuanqing gave a few noncommittal nods, waiting patiently until, before long, the first pair of contestants took the stage.

Fengdu Ghost King appeared to be around thirty, dressed in black from head to toe. His features were plain, yet he possessed an indescribable air of nobility and a faint, overbearing aura.

He was remarkably eye-catching.

Yiwei Dujiang was a woman of delicate build, beautiful and serene, her age impossible to discern.

Once both had entered the arena, the Armored Swordsman called out in a loud voice:

“Begin!”

Fengdu Ghost King unhurriedly produced a small circular mirror, checked his reflection, and then snapped his fingers.

“Thump! Thump! Thump!”

Three hulking corpses leaped into the arena, their arrival sounding like boulders crashing to the ground. They wore identical outfits, sported identical hairstyles, and stood in identical postures.

“Does this Fengdu Ghost King have obsessive-compulsive disorder?” Zhang Yuanqing quipped.

“It’s rigidity!” Guan Ya offered a definitive reply based on her own observations.

Zhang Yuanqing looked again at Fengdu Ghost King’s cold, stern face—rigid, serious, and devoid of humor.

He thought to himself that it was no wonder Yin Ji disliked Fengdu Ghost King and had instead thrown herself into the arms of the Demon Lord; the Demon Lord was sweet-talking, skilled, and immensely talented, clearly more attractive to women than a man so stiff and solemn.

As his thoughts drifted, the three corpses formed a pincer formation and charged toward Yiwei Dujiang, their heavy footsteps steady and powerful, yet rapid and urgent.

With every stride, they cracked the stone slabs of the arena.

Yiwei Dujiang’s pupils suddenly constricted, her eyes turning amber and slitting vertically. Thick, tawny fur sprouted beneath her skin, whiskers extended from her muzzle, her nose turned black and rounded, and her fingernails elongated into curved, lethal claws.

In an instant, she had transformed into a lithe, curvaceous cat-woman.

The cat-woman leaped gracefully, vaulting over the heads of the three corpses and rendering their pounce futile.

She landed without a sound, silent as a shadow, then transformed into a blur, swift as lightning, as she streaked toward Fengdu Ghost King.

At the same time, patches of emerald grass sprouted from the stone slabs beneath Fengdu Ghost King’s feet, spreading like a carpet until the arena floor had become a lawn.

Fengdu Ghost King remained unmoved, leaping several meters into the air, and under the gaze of the multitude, he entered Night Travel and vanished from sight.

The Catgirl instantly halted her charge, warily scanning left and right, checking the lawn for any signs of trampling.

But the Ghost King of Fengdu seemed to have vanished into thin air.

"Where do you think he is?" Guan Ya asked in a low voice.

Zhang Yuanqing didn't even pause to think. "On the Yin Corpse's shoulder."

The mixed-blood beauty gave him a surprised look. This matched exactly what she had discerned, yet Yuan Shi wasn't a Scout, nor was he wearing Seer's Glasses; he had deduced it purely through combat intuition.

At that moment, the figure of the Ghost King of Fengdu manifested upon the shoulder of one of the Yin Corpses.

He held a small round mirror in his hand, gazing at his own reflection. He seemed to have seen something pleasing within the glass, for he let out a light chuckle, then exhaled a stream of endless, gentle Yin Power.

"Woo... woo... woo..."

Ghostly wails resounded across the entire field; the temperature plummeted.

As a Night Wanderer, Zhang Yuanqing clearly saw wisps of green smoke drifting out alongside the Yin Power, materializing in mid-air into various fierce ghosts and vengeful spirits.

Men and women, old and young, some with visages twisted in savagery, others with hair disheveled and wild.

A full few dozen vengeful spirits in total.

These spirits gripped scythes in their hands, floating in the air, a chaotic dance of specters.

This... these are Spirit Servants? Far too many, no, not Spirit Servants, something between Spirit Servants and Vengeful Spirits. What kind of operation is this... Zhang Yuanqing was stunned.

The vengeful spirits raised their scythes high and dive-bombed the Catgirl.

Every slash that connected elicited a pained shriek from her. She could dodge the Yin Corpses' attacks with her agility, but she could not evade these invisible vengeful spirits.

A few minutes later, the battle ended.

The Ghost King of Fengdu hadn't expended much effort before securing victory.

It felt like bullying a novice. So this is the one who was unrivaled beneath the previous Lord? Why did he look in the mirror? So far, the Ghost King of Fengdu has only displayed Night Wanderer abilities; what about the Star Official's powers? Zhang Yuanqing mused inwardly.

The second group was Ling Jun and the Powder-Head of Ru Hong. The latter was a Plague God, skilled in pathogens and microorganisms, countered by the Beast King's healing.

But Ling Jun fought half-heartedly, never once taking the initiative from start to finish, because the "Powder-Head" was a mature woman of exceptional charm.

"Which branch is Sister an Elder of?"

"Tong Province."

"Sigh, I've taken advantage in this match; a victory without honor."

"No matter, victory or defeat was never important."

"Right, winning doesn't matter. Getting to cross hands with such an outstanding woman is the greatest harvest of this tournament for me."

"Worthy of the Flower Prince, such a silver tongue."

"Sister, did you enter the Arena Tournament for the rewards?"

"For tempering."

They dragged it out sluggishly for half an hour until the Armored Sword Knight couldn't help but frown and call out loudly:

“Quick battle, quick decision!”

Ling Jun heard this, clutched his chest, and cried “Ah”: “I’m sick, I concede.”

The mature woman opposite froze for a moment, her face full of astonishment.

She had just opened her mouth to speak when Ling Jun, still clutching his chest, staggered back to the spectator stands.

He let me win on purpose… wants me to temper myself through a few more matches… The mature female steward of the Water God Palace instantly understood Young Master Hua’s intention.

For a moment, she felt both gratitude and surprise, her favorable impression of him soaring.

…

“Fu Qingyang and Sheng Huo Xiongxiong, enter the arena.”

The moment the Armored Sword Guest’s voice fell, a figure in white rose leisurely from a certain seat. Unlike the other contestants, he did not leap down from the high wall; instead, he snatched up an azure cloak and draped it over his shoulders.

*Whoosh!*

The cloak billowed and snapped. A vortex of qi rose from beneath Fu Qingyang’s feet, bearing him floating toward the center of the stage.

Cheers erupted from the stands.

“What a show-off…” Zhang Yuanqing said.

Guan Ya heartily agreed with his assessment, sighing, “This Qingyang kid, loved playing it cool since he was little.”

“And a fool with too much money.”

“Yet he fancies himself as winning people over with virtue.”

“These words stay between us, not for spreading.”

“Precisely my intention.”

As they spoke, a fireball rose from the stands, hurtling like a cannonball toward Fu Qingyang floating in mid-air.

Fu Qingyang’s face turned cold. He curled a finger and flicked. The fireball exploded with a *boom*, and within the expanding bloom of fire, a tall figure emerged.

The man was around forty, powerfully built, with a full beard and a domineering aura. His gaze was sharp, the kind of fellow who, if you glanced at him twice on the street, would charge over demanding “What are you looking at?” before throwing a punch.

“Fu Qingyang!” Sheng Huo Xiongxiong roared:

“They all say you’re the number one below the Ruler realm. I refuse to accept it. Today I’ll test your skill. Hope you aren’t just…”

He didn’t finish. As he slowly descended, he saw Fu Qingyang grasp a Han Dynasty Eight-Sided Bronze Sword from the void. The blade was keen, the body covered in verdigris.

The cold-faced Young Master Qian slashed down.

Sheng Huo Xiongxiong’s pupils shrank. His body trembled violently in a bizarre manner. Countless methods of evasion flashed through his mind, yet they contradicted and negated each other.

In the end, he did nothing, simply allowing the blade to cleave open his chest, severing his sternum.

*Thud!*

Sheng Huo Xiongxiong crashed heavily onto the stage. Blood blossomed from his chest, staining the grass red.

Fu Qingyang turned his body and floated back to the stage.

The battle had not yet begun, and yet it was already over.

The logistics team rushed onto the stage, and after a cursory examination of the wounds, called out loudly: "Elder, he requires an injection of Life Essence."

Fu Qingyang gave a slight nod.

The logistics team carried the blazing Holy Fire away in haste.

The entire arena fell deathly silent.

A few seconds later, a tidal wave of clamor erupted.

"What? It's over just like that? The Holy Fire Deacon took a bribe, didn't he."

"Terrible acting. That slash from Fu Qingyang—I could have dodged it. A grand Deacon couldn't dodge it? Young Master Qian truly lives up to his name."

The audience argued back and forth, voices rising in endless accusation, all condemning Fu Qingyang for throwing the match.

Zhang Yuanqing suddenly recalled the time he had hunted the Black Impermanence at the Third Elementary School. That Night Rose's Pyromancer hadn't even possessed the courage to engage Fu Qingyang in close combat.

Yet this Holy Fire Deacon had charged in recklessly the moment he stepped onto the stage.

By comparison, *this* one was a proper Pyromancer. That Night Rose's Pyromancer was a disgrace to the profession.

Amidst the uproar, Zhang Yuanqing heard Guan Ya sigh with emotion:

"This is what they call 'Technique Approaching the Dao'!"

*Technique Approaching the Dao*... He silently repeated the four words in his heart, seizing the opportunity to ask:

"What exactly does that phrase mean?"

This question had troubled him for a long time.

"I told you last time," Guan Ya said, "the Pawn Who Crossed the River is known as 'Little Qingyang.' You've experienced his Insight Specialization firsthand. Fu Qingyang's slash is an upgraded version of the Pawn's Insight Specialization—upgraded by countless iterations."

Zhang Yuanqing nodded. The Pawn could predict two or three moves ahead; the moment he raised his gun muzzle, you felt an inevitability of being hit, whether you went left or right, it would all be anticipated.

"So, the Centurion predicted seven or eight moves, or even more?"

Guan Ya shook her head, her expression grave.

"No. If that were the case, he wouldn't deserve the four words 'Technique Approaching the Dao.' His realm is a layer higher still."

A layer higher? Zhang Yuanqing raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"I've told you before—Fu Qingyang's talent isn't good. Since childhood, he was scorned by the clan elders. Among his peers, he ranked lower-middle. Yet he was proud, a pride that seeped from his very bones. Sometimes I couldn't understand it: clearly so weak, why so proud? On what grounds? Precisely because of this blind pride, he was often bullied by his peers in the clan." As Guan Ya spoke of these things, her eyes held reminiscence, emotion, and admiration.

"Until the clan's martial tournament when he was fifteen. He knocked me unconscious with a wooden saber. Just one slash. But that slash was fast, ruthless, and accurate, catching me completely off guard.

"Later I learned that for the past seven or eight years, Fu Qingyang had practiced only one move—the Slash!

"He knew his talent was poor, so he didn't learn martial arts, didn't learn forms. He only practiced the Slash. He concentrated all his energy and heart's blood into that single move, perfecting it to the absolute peak.

"I lost with total conviction. Because I knew that slash condensed his pride, condensed half a lifetime of heart's blood. The moment he drew his blade, he was already invincible."

Guan Ya sighed:

"After becoming a Spirit Realm Walker, he fused Insight into his Slash, continuing to practice it day and night without cease. The clan elders still didn't look favorably on him. They all felt his path was too narrow; knowing only one move meant it was too easy to counter."

The facts bore this out. Back then, he was much like the Pawn Crossing the River now—formidable, yet not peerless. It wasn't until he ascended to the Saint Realm that we discovered, with horror, that he had forged this single saber stroke into a Rule.

At this, Guan Ya looked at the dumbstruck Yuan Shi and nodded:

"Yes, a Rule. The Rule of a Rule-type Artifact.

"His slash cannot be dodged, only endured head-on. Even a Ruler cannot avoid it, much like your Red Dancing Shoes—even Elder Dog was helpless against them.

"Fu Qingyang is the first person since the Spirit Realm's birth to grasp a Rule. Of course, whether the League Masters can do it, I wouldn't know."

Zhang Yuanqing murmured:

"So this is... technique approaching the Dao..."

He suddenly understood—understood why Fu Qingyang looked down on geniuses, why he called these geniuses trash, why he said the Female Marshal's diligence was unworthy of her talent.

Fu Qingyang indeed possessed the capital for such arrogance; his talent was lacking, but he possessed the heart of a powerhouse.

Truly heartrending yet inspiring... Zhang Yuanqing thought silently.

At that moment, a soft, melodious voice drifted from his side:

"Yuan Shi Tianzun!"

Zhang Yuanqing gathered his thoughts and looked toward the sound. The newcomer was a mature, captivating young woman.

Her face was round and lovely, enchanting, with lips like blazing flame, resembling a lush, blooming peony.

Zhu Rong!