76: My Godly Father (Part 7)

"Then let's do it!"

"Throw a million punches!"

From that day on, only two things remained in Quan Yun's world.

Punching, and the preparations to keep punching.

During the Yin Hour, the sky was still pitch black, and the village roosters had not yet crowed.

Quan Yun had already climbed out of bed, navigated the yard in the dark, and started throwing punches.

One punch, then another, repeating over and over.

Sweat quickly soaked his thin clothes, and his arms ached as if they were about to break.

He didn't care.

The sun rose, and he was still punching.

The afternoon was sweltering, yet he continued to punch.

The moon reached its zenith, and he was still punching.

The Cripple didn't teach him anything else; he just occasionally leaned against the doorframe, silently watching him while taking a sip of wine from his gourd.

No emotion could be seen on that dejected face.

In the village, a wave of excitement had been stirred up because of the Immortal Sect that would arrive at an unknown time.

Some families with better means did not hesitate to spend heavily to hire so-called "masters" from the town to guide their children.

Consequently, the open ground at the edge of the village was bustling with activity every day.

"Look at my Move, 'Ferocious Tiger Descending the Mountain'! Master said I have innate Divine Power!"

"That's nothing, mine is called 'Spirit Snake Flicking Tongue.' It's all about being fast, accurate, and ruthless!"

A group of adolescents, dressed in brand-new Martial Arts Attire, were practicing with great affectation.

Their parents watched with pride from the side, as if they could already see their children joining the Immortal Sect and bringing honor to their ancestors.

At that moment, someone noticed the figure at the end of the village in that lonely courtyard, looking as if he were possessed.

"Look, that little fool is still punching."

"How ridiculous. Just throwing straight punches like that, what could he possibly achieve?"

"My master said that's just brute force, a third-rate peasant style. True cultivation is all about Cultivation Techniques and Moves!"

A child who had just learned a few Moves and whose family had bought him herbs for medicinal baths looked at Quan Yun with a sense of superiority.

"He doesn't actually think he can join an Immortal Sect just by punching, does he? What wishful thinking!"

Sneers and mockery buzzed incessantly.

But not a single one of these voices reached Quan Yun's ears.

His world had long since been filled with nothing but punching.

Soreness.

Exhaustion.

Numbness.

He forgot time, forgot everything around him, and even forgot why he was punching.

Only one thought remained in his mind.

Punch.

He didn't know how much time had passed; perhaps it was three months.

His punches had changed.

They were no longer soft pushes, but were delivered with a crisp, concise burst of short-range power.

The punches were faster, more accurate, and more ruthless.

Every punch thrown brought with it a whistling sound of wind.

"Whoosh..."

"Whoosh..."

It was no longer just the sound of wind; something else... was mixed within.

A trace of something that belonged only to him.

That evening, The Cripple leaned against the door as usual, watching the small figure in the yard drenched in sweat.

When he heard the clear wind of the punch, which sounded like a punch resonance, his hand holding the wine gourd suddenly tightened.

The cloudiness in his eyes faded, replaced by sheer shock.

"Intent..."

He rasped out a single word.

That's right.

It was the embryonic form of "Intent."

This kid had actually touched the threshold of "Intent" in such a short time, relying solely on the most tedious repetition!

This Comprehension Ability... The Cripple's heart was filled with turbulent waves, but what followed was an even deeper regret.

"What a pity... what a pity..."

Such shocking Comprehension Ability, yet paired with a Mortal Body.

The heavens truly enjoy playing jokes.

The Cripple withdrew his gaze and tilted his head back to take a large gulp of wine. The liquid was pungent, but it tasted entirely of bitterness as it went down his throat.

He leaned against the wall and slowly sat down, his gaze becoming distant.

Once upon a time, he too was a brilliant favored son of heaven, possessing a one-in-a-million God Physique, with a sword that dared to challenge the heavens and change the world.

But what was the result?

So what if he had a God Physique? He still ended up with his cultivation base completely destroyed and his Dao Heart clouded, lingering on his last breath in this remote corner.

He looked at the small figure in the courtyard.

A Mortal Body... Is a Mortal Body truly not good enough?

In the path of cultivation, is Physique really the most important thing?

A thought instantly flashed through his dead heart.

His body shuddered violently.

That Sword Heart, which had been silent for years and was about to be completely sealed by dust, actually... gave a slight throb at this moment.

"Heart..."

"The heart... is the foundation..."

The Cripple muttered to himself, his eyes growing brighter and brighter.

He had gained some enlightenment.

In the evening, the woman walked out of the house and couldn't help but stop when she saw The Cripple sitting on the ground.

"Madman Li, you..."

She spoke with some uncertainty.

"You seem... a bit different."

The Cripple looked up and smiled at her.

In that smile, there was no longer the dejection and deathly stillness of the past; instead, there was a bit more relief and sharpness.

Yes, it was different.

He, the dignified Sword God, had actually found his long-lost Sword Heart because of a Mortal Body youth... and after who knows how much more time had passed.

Quan Yun didn't even remember how many punches he had thrown.

Was it five hundred thousand? Or eight hundred thousand?

He only knew that his punching speed was getting faster and faster, and every punch had become a physical instinct.

Meanwhile, the children at the village entrance, under the guidance of their "masters" and the aid of Medicinal Pills, were all practicing decently. Their presence was much stronger than ordinary children, and they became increasingly confident and arrogant.

One day, they passed by the end of the village again and saw Quan Yun still punching away on his own.

"Hey, fool!"

The leading child was the one who had snatched the herbs before; his name was Tiger. Relying on being the village chief's son, he acted like a tyrant in the village.

He led a few followers and swaggered into the courtyard.

"You've been punching for nearly a year, haven't you? Let me see if you've made any progress at all!"

With that, he struck a starting pose he thought was very cool and threw a punch toward Quan Yun's chest.

This punch was forceful and whistled through the air.

However, Quan Yun acted as if he hadn't seen him at all.

He was completely immersed in his own world.

Just now, as he threw his hundreds of thousands-th punch, he had vaguely... grasped something.

Was that the "Qi" Uncle Cripple had mentioned?

He didn't know.

It was a mysterious and profound feeling.

If he just took one more small step forward, he could push open a brand-new door.

He ignored the incoming fist and all the surrounding sounds.

Following his body's instinct, he integrated that feeling he was about to grasp into his next punch.

Then, he threw a punch.

This punch was plain and unremarkable.

There was no earth-shattering momentum, nor any dazzling brilliance.

But the moment this punch was thrown.

Tiger and the children behind him instantly froze, their sneers vanishing.

An invisible gust of wind erupted violently with Quan Yun's fist as the center!

The wind wasn't fierce, but it contained a powerful Intent that made them unable to open their eyes or stand steady.

Tiger's punch was pushed aside by this wind before it even touched the edge of Quan Yun's clothes.

*Crack!*

A crisp sound.

It wasn't the sound of bones breaking.

It was the ground beneath their feet—the hard yellow earth—which cracked into several visible fissures like a spiderweb, centered around Quan Yun's feet!

The children stood frozen in place, terrified.

Run... Only this one thought remained in their minds.

One million punches... complete!

At this moment, a soft "pop" sounded within Quan Yun's body as some shackle was broken.

In the surrounding world, the invisible Heaven and Earth Spiritual Qi seemed to be drawn by something, surging madly toward his small body!

Rather than him grasping the "Qi," it was more like the "Qi" was actively rushing toward him!

A powerful aura, far exceeding anything before, erupted from him!

Body Tempering Realm! Achieved!

Under the eaves, the wine gourd in the hand of The Cripple, who had been silently watching, fell to the ground with a clatter.

He stared fixedly at the small figure in the yard, his eyes filled with shock and wild joy.

No Cultivation Technique!

No Medicinal Pills!

Simply by relying on the purest form of punching, he had actually drawn Qi into his body, broken the shackles of the Mortal Body, and stepped into the Body Tempering Realm!

And... he even comprehended "Intent"!

Ordinary Cultivators who could touch the threshold of "Intent" in the Spirit King Realm would be called Geniuses.

But he, while in the Body Tempering Realm, had already integrated "Intent" into his punches!

The Cripple took a step forward and appeared before Quan Yun in the next instant, excitedly grabbing his shoulders.

"Yun'er, you... are very good!"

He took a deep breath to calm his excitement and looked at him with burning eyes.

"Tell Uncle Cripple, what is your punch, and what is your Intent?"

Quan Yun snapped out of that mysterious state, feeling the unprecedented surge of power within him. He looked at his fist, somewhat dazed yet somewhat enlightened.

"My punch? My Intent?"

He looked up, his clear eyes revealing a depth and dominance that didn't match his age.

"No regrets when a piece is played... no fear when a punch is thrown..."

"A puncher should Move forward with courage, without fear or dread!"

The youth paused, his voice not loud, but every word was resonant.

"I have a punch that can split mountains, fill seas, slay demons, reach gods, and strike down immortals!"