Chapter 135
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Chapter 135: Enlightening Wisdom
Path injuries were said to be incurable.
[*Path" often refers to a practitioner’s journey, enlightenment, or the power they cultivate. "Path injuries" would then mean wounds that damage one’s cultivation foundation, Dao comprehension, or even soul—injuries that are extremely difficult or impossible to heal.]
Yet, Liao Qingshan had surprisingly healed most of his wounds himself.
Although this "most of it" still meant he might take many years to fully recover without the Phoenix Bones, having achieved this much was truly unbelievable.
Now, Zhang Yang began to understand why Liao Qingshan had reacted with only mild surprise at Chi Zhenyi’s name—he, too, was extraordinary in his own right.
“There are differences in path injuries. My path injury was caused by that scoundrel Bai Yunxiao trying to steal my saintly path. In his greed, he harmed himself while I was guiding him to enlightenment, which led to his severe injury and left me with this path injury. This kind of wound is deep, rooted in the soul and the secrets of a Saint. It can only be gradually eroded by stealing a bit of the earth’s essence,” Liao Qingshan revealed with a melancholic expression. “Without this injury, I could have considered reaching the late stage of Sainthood by now, but instead, I am still wasting my time in the early stage of Sainthood—all due to my past poor judgment.”
Even now, he still could not let go of that experience from years ago.
Bai Yunxiao had been his friend, his brother. They had met long ago and traveled the world together, exploring the Southern Region, journeying to the Eastern Domain, battling in the Northern Plains, crossing the Western Desert, and wandering through the Central Plains. How carefree they had been, how full of spirit.
They were blood brothers.
But in the end, Liao Qingshan had discovered that behind Bai Yunxiao’s actions was a dark force from the Ziyang Sacred Land. From the moment they had met, this dark force had been at work, taking advantage of their martial arts affinity. Bai Yunxiao carried some unerasable hidden dangers since childhood, making it difficult for him to achieve sainthood despite his exceptional talent and roots. Thus, he had targeted Liao Qingshan.
He had sought to help Liao Qingshan become a Saint—only to steal his saintly path.
Fortunately, Liao Qingshan had detected the scheme in time, which had saved his life.
However, Bai Yunxiao had already used his stolen saintly path to overcome the greatest challenge of his life and had succeeded in becoming a Saint. It could be said that he had seized a sliver of opportunity from the heavens.
This left Liao Qingshan filled with sorrow and resentment for many years; time had not diminished his hatred.
“You are naive. When you roam the world, do not trust others too easily,” Liao Qingshan warned, speaking from experience.
Since leaving the Vast Forest, Zhang Yang had continually encountered the terrifying nature of the world.
Yet, he remained deeply unsettled by Liao Qingshan’s ordeal.
How many years had it taken to set this up?
Moreover, a villain had maintained the guise of a close brother until the very end, only to reveal his true treachery.
“By the way, Old Liao,” Jia Tianhao leaned in, speaking softly, “this Zhang Shao is known as the Con Artist. He tricks others—no one can trick him.”
Zhang Yang nearly choked on his own saliva. He shot Jia Tianhao a glare, outraged that he dared to slander him. Coldly, he declared, “Jia Tianhao, from this moment on, you are forbidden from speaking for three days.”
Thud!
Jia Tianhao dropped to his knees.
This was a punishment worse than death.
“I am the Battle God! You dare label me a Con Artist? You’ve got some nerve,” Zhang Yang shouted.
Jia Tianhao looked utterly miserable and muttered, “I was wrong.”
“You are not allowed to speak for the next three days, starting now,” Zhang Yang reiterated. He truly needed to teach him a lesson—this chatterbox couldn’t keep secrets. If he didn’t handle him now, who knew what kind of trouble he would stir up in the future?
Jia Tianhao wanted to cry, but under Zhang Yang’s stern gaze, he shut his mouth and cast a pleading look at Liao Qingshan.
Liao Qingshan merely nodded and said, “It is indeed necessary to discipline him. I learned about you from his mouth, and combined with your actions in Mo City, I wished to meet you.”
Jia Tianhao’s eyes widened, feeling a chill run down his spine. This Saint was actually kicking him while he was down. This so-called friend was truly ungrateful!
The old man and the young man both ignored his silent suffering as he rolled on the ground in anguish.
Zhang Yang turned to Liao Qingshan and asked, “Old Liao, do you possess any soul power martial arts techniques?”
“Indeed,” Liao Qingshan replied.
Zhang Yang’s eyes lit up with excitement.
Liao Qingshan, however, smiled faintly and added, “But I cannot grant them to you.”
“Why not?” Zhang Yang was taken aback.
“How many types of soul power do you cultivate?”
“Eleven.”
“How do you perceive these soul powers?”
“Perceive them?” Zhang Yang was puzzled. He had never truly considered this before.
In the past, he had only sought to amass as many soul power martial arts techniques as possible, believing that having more techniques would grant him greater explosive power and versatility. His sole focus had been on becoming stronger.
Liao Qingshan spoke calmly, “What is a god?”
Zhang Yang was momentarily lost in thought.
A god?
To mortals, a martial artist was akin to a god. A martial artist who reached the Ascending to Heaven realm could soar through the skies and achieve feats beyond ordinary comprehension. In that sense, martial artists were like gods.
“Gods are merely humans; soul power is simply human power. Humans possess many types of power, but what is the use of that?” Liao Qingshan continued.
Zhang Yang felt as if he were on the verge of understanding something profound, yet the full realization remained just out of reach.
Liao Qingshan went on, “You already possess an abundance of soul power martial arts techniques, each varied and complex. Some are derived from the power of fierce beasts, others from the mysteries of yin and yang, and still others from the Realm of Thunder. Yet, all these techniques, no matter their origin, stem from the same root. They have not transcended the realm of humanity or what is called the ‘god’ realm. No matter how many you acquire, it will always be a matter of quantity, never a qualitative transformation.”
“Qualitative transformation!” Zhang Yang felt as though a veil had been lifted from his mind. A realization struck him. “Soul power… holy power!”
Liao Qingshan smiled and nodded. “Your insight is remarkable. With just a little guidance, you grasped the essence. Indeed, holy power represents a transformation of the power source. The quantity of soul power becomes irrelevant. If you can transform the soul power you possess into holy power, not only will your combat prowess improve, but the benefits for your future cultivation will be immeasurable.”
Zhang Yang frowned. “But I am still far from sainthood. How can I comprehend the path of a Saint and elevate my soul power to holy power?”
Liao Qingshan pointed into the air, and a gentle ray of holy light flew into Zhang Yang’s forehead.
“This is the mystery of the path of a Saint.”
Zhang Yang closed his eyes and focused on comprehending the knowledge.
If, in the past, he could effortlessly master any martial arts technique, now he finally encountered a challenge.
Even though he had gained insights from the footprints of a Saint and had advanced from the Nine Steps of Mountains and Rivers to the Three Steps of Mountains and Rivers, he still found himself bewildered by the path Liao Qingshan had imparted.
Yet, he knew this was a monumental opportunity.
He could take his time to reflect on it. As long as he comprehended it before achieving sainthood, it would bring about a profound transformation.
“Thank you, Old Liao,” Zhang Yang said with a deep bow, his tone solemn.
He understood that even as a disciple, such a gift was not given lightly—especially considering Liao Qingshan’s past betrayal. This was no small gesture.
Liao Qingshan smiled. “I have observed everything in Mo City. Though you are known as the Con Artist, you are, in truth, sincere and genuine. I still hold hope for you, and I believe that there is much goodness in this world.”
Zhang Yang felt a sudden weight of responsibility; he sensed the fragility hidden within Liao Qingshan’s heart.
Though a Saint, time had not dulled his hatred. Instead, it had only deepened it. He harbored a disdain for humanity and the world, yet he exercised immense willpower to suppress the near-demonic hatred festering within him. For this reason, he sought someone to test the nature of humanity.
That someone was Zhang Yang.
It was a strange sensation—an awareness imparted by Liao Qingshan, woven into the emotions carried by that ray of holy light.
Zhang Yang knew what he had to do.
Perhaps, if he failed to show Liao Qingshan the brighter side of human nature, this Saint might eventually succumb to darkness.
It sounded incredible, yet Zhang Yang took it with utmost seriousness. Even if he was mistaken, he would face the challenge earnestly.
After a long conversation, Zhang Yang bid farewell, intent on seeking out the Phoenix Bones.
Before leaving, he said, “Old Liao, let Tianhao stay with you. Keep an eye on him; he is not to speak for three days.”
Liao Qingshan chuckled. “Very well.”
With a wave of his hand, a ray of holy light descended, sealing Jia Tianhao’s ability to speak.
Jia Tianhao, having no other option, rolled on the ground in protest.
Zhang Yang patted his shoulder and departed.
Whether Jia Tianhao understood his intentions or not, Zhang Yang believed that this chatterbox would bring Liao Qingshan some joy. At the very least, Liao Qingshan had accepted him.
