142: Chapter 1 Tools of Rebellion 142: Chapter 1 Tools of Rebellion In the deepest and most silent slumber, An Jing stepped into the hazily lit street and saw a familiar martial arts school.
He rembered how in his previous life, for so reasons, he had feverishly trained in martial arts, until the world once turbulent found peace again, until the world, like a wasteland, blossod once more with prosperity.
He had never ceased his pursuit of martial arts until ‘death.’
These spirited mories of youth resurfaced, like slicing through an onion head-on; most people would subconsciously lower their gaze, unwilling to stare at the brilliant days of the past.
But An Jing in the dream confronted all of it.
Maybe it was because he had never failed the dream, or perhaps because he remained young even unto death.
Following the winding path of the dream, he arrived outside the martial arts school and looked up at its slightly aged signboard.
Over many years, through nurous days and nights under the scorching sun, he had spent his ti here, practicing punches and standing like a stake in the guidance of an old master, as straight as a pine tree.
—Pity about your body…
Jing Xuan, if only you had a healthy body, you definitely could have…
Even after that, having experienced many brutal battlefields as a rcenary, what An Jing rembered most vividly wasn’t the sweat he’d spilled, the lee on the battlefields, the blood and gunpowder, but the pain emanating from his organs and his master’s sighs.
The martial arts school vanished.
A setting red sun at the very edge of a cliff by the sea, and there, a wheelchair.
In the wheelchair sat a man with a tall fra but withered flesh and white hair, who was slowly rising to his feet.
He wasn’t old; illness had wasted him away, and this man, who relied on a wheelchair for mobility, now stood on the cliff, facing the setting sun and turning his back on An Jing, struck a stance, and began to perform a series of slow punches.
It was rely a series of punches, yet An Jing could feel an imposing force as vast as ocean waves.
And when the man threw the last straight punch forward, it seed as though the clouds in the sky burned, the waters of the sea stirred, and even the mountains on the earth trembled.
Yet after this punch, all the imposing force disappeared.
It was an illusion, just a sick man performing a slow set of punches, as ordinary as could be, and could be effortlessly perford by anyone who learned it.
And thus, the man threw his last punch, as his illness was incurable.
The traveler of the Martial Path eventually died in this world bereft of miracles.
He had no regrets.
His fellow disciples and friends were by his side; to die at this mont was his Heavenly Mandate.
He had tried his utmost to resist, even the most brutal battles of unification had not claid his life.
Even if in the end, no miracle occurred, his life was by no ans a failure.
Even if, as the legends say, there is reincarnation after death, another life, he was indifferent to living yet another life.
What he cared about was whether his next life, the one both him yet not, would retain that sa perseverance.
Would it… still practice martial arts?
Still… resist.
Resist, the Fate Pattern that has existed since birth!
Martial Arts…
Martial Arts!
The martial arts school disappeared, the cliff before the setting sun faded away, everything vanished, and An Jing’s dream sank into absolute darkness.
And in that darkness rose a doubt.
—Do I love martial arts?
What exactly does martial arts an to ?
Martial Arts…
Martial Arts is…
Fragile humans cannot withstand the maliciousness of this world, weather it’s the storm, earthquake, hail, war, or incurable diseases, even just the majority’s malice could only be escaped from if confronted.
But if one uses a tool.
If one possesses wisdom.
If ‘martial arts’ could truly strengthen oneself.
Then even if facing all that’s irresistible, humans could still rebel.
Catastrophe, the nations of mankind, the societies of mankind.
In these tis, those political struggles, and the side with the overwhelming majority.
Be it the Heavenly Demon or the Demon Sect, Da Chen or the calamity, any monster, anything…
even destiny itself.
Even the whole world.
Even “correctness”.
I can still resist.
— So martial arts are a tool?
An Jing asked.
“Martial arts can just be a tool for becoming stronger,” one voice said.
“Martial arts can be an embodint of struggle,” another voice said.
“Martial arts can make yourself and your surroundings better,” yet another voice said.
“Martial arts can help you explore more of the unknown,” another voice said.
All of these are very good, very good…
But to , martial arts…
“Martial arts are a power of resistance,”
can resist tyranny, can overthrow a wicked world, possessing the power to say no to any imposed will, regardless of who it is, no matter what it is that can’t affect .
Be it a natural disaster, or a man-made disaster, even the Heavenly Mandate, destiny…
In his dream, An Jing took a step forward.
He clenched his fist, clenched his sword.
In reality, An Jing woke up from his dream.
When he clenched his Blood Qi, a Fiend Sword Spear as real as life itself materialized from thin air, its blade as hot as flas sliced through the imnsely thick ice and snow in front of him, creating a large hole leading to the outside world!
Boom, hot air rose, and An Jing walked out of the ice and snow.
This was a cave hidden under ice and snow, inside and out blocked by frozen snow, with only a few small holes for air.
The temperature inside the cave was still suitable for a Martial Artist, but An Jing’s eyelashes still had tiny ice crystals condensing on them.
“The temperature is still so cold.”
Ever since he had slain the Evil Born Demon and arrived in the vicinity of Kanming City, An Jing had been hiding in this unnad cave near the great city.
Until today.
This was a precaution.
An Jing was very aware of the influence of the Heaven’s Will Demon Sect in the northwest region; even though the Da Chen dynasty still appeared to be the ruling power of this area, who knows how many of them are hidden agents of the Demon Sect?
Perhaps, even the Guardian Grandmaster of Kanming City is a mber of the Demon Sect!
After escaping the Demon Sect’s pursuit, An Jing directly hid in the mountains, holed up in a small cavern, planning to change his appearance and guise before entering the city once the situation had died down.
Since An Jing could travel to the Tianyuan Realm to buy supplies, food and water were not hard to co by.
Not to ntion that An Jing had bought a batch of canned at in the beginning, and as long as he lted snow, it would be enough to sustain him for a month.
As for changing his appearance, this wasn’t difficult either.
An Jing had mastered the Skills in the Tianyuan Realm to change the frequency of his Spirit Qi, altering his own temperant.
Now as he switched the Blood Fiend Qi of his Fate Pattern to the aura of the Taibai Luminous Godly Ban, he instantly transford from a vicious young man, who had killed countless people, into a strikingly handso young man.
As long as he put on the ancient clothing from the Tianyuan Realm—that had been slightly modified for role-playing—he would be considered, by the knowledge of a local from Embracing the Void Realm at most, a wealthy young master from another place.
As for the Tianyuan Realm, An Jing similarly waited for the storm to pass, altered his Spirit Qi fluctuations, and slipped out of the city stealthily.
Outside the city, he did not imdiately seek out people he was acquainted with, but using his previously registered City Entry Pass, he blended into the remote villages of the Floating Dust Plains, gathering information about Xuanye City, and found out the final outco of the Black Market incident.
The staff of the Xuandu Black Market were not all arrested or purged by the Sky Surveillance Bureau; Pure Water True Person from the Xuandu Group rescued a portion of the core personnel and so of the lucky shopkeepers and custors, leaving Xuanye City.
With these people and evidence, the Xuandu Group began what is still an ongoing public opinion battle and standoff with the local hegemony, the Luofu Collective.
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