Li Yongyi clenched his fists, a torrential surge of draconic energy coursing through his veins, a primal force unlike the feeble spark of before, vast and unyielding. In a reverie, he marveled as the once-sesame-sized breath within him swelled to the magnitude of an egg, solid and unshakeable.
Planting his stance, he unleashed a punch, its force resonant as a storm, an inexhaustible wellspring of vigor. Stepping back, he drew the short sword gifted by his aunt, sweeping it horizontally like a gale, slashing vertically like thunder, and thrusting diagonally like lightning. His movements flowed—cloud-lifting, mountain-cleaving, wave-sundering—each strike imbued with indomitable might.
Eight Blades of Breaking Army, Initiated!
Eight Blades of Breaking Army, Mastered!
Eight Blades of Breaking Army, Perfected!
A killing aura, disciplined yet fierce, conjured a pale crescent of sword-light that swept the confined space. With a final flourish, Li Yongyi stepped back, exhaled sharply, and brought the sword down in a mighty arc, a crescent moon incarnate—the lethal stroke, "Slay the Celestial Wolf"!
A resonant hum erupted from within, sinews and bones taut, then bursting with power. As the technique concluded, Li gripped the sword, breathing steadily, muscles trembling with a sensation both alien and familiar, as though he had honed this blade-craft for years, yet his flesh bore no such memory.
Eight Blades of Breaking Army, Consummated!
A ravenous hunger seized him, his stomach churning like a tempest, shattering his thoughts. Rubbing his belly, reason crumbled before appetite, akin to the exhaustion after a night-long battle. He slipped out quietly, seizing a carrot, washing it, and crunching it to quell the gnawing hunger.
From a wooden cabinet, he took a flatbread, lifted the lid of a black jar, and extracted pickled vegetables and garlic with clean chopsticks. Crouching behind the cabinet, he devoured the bread with bites of pickles, easing the roiling hunger. Taking another flatbread, he tore and ate, finally able to reflect.
"This hunger stems from the body's transformation through martial training, demanding nourishment. Yet, to master the <
Scrawling absently on the earthen floor with chopstick ends, Li Yognyi mused: "The Cauldron absorbed some force from Yue QIngfeng, manifesting as a Crimson Dragon, aiding my cultivation. But what warriors must its power draw from? What is its limit? Is it confined to their techniques?"
Footsteps stirred him. Swallowing the last of the bread, he turned to see Auntie Nangong Qiushui, both startled, stepping back. She sighed, teasing, "I thought a thief had come, but it's just you, greedy cat!"
Barefoot, clad in loose brown robes with white trim, her black hair cascading like a waterfall, she smiled, "Did my little raccoon practice martial arts today?" Li Yongyiblinked, "How did you know, Aunt?" She laughed, "Warriors' appetites surge after mastering inner arts. With your peerless talent, how could the Crimson Dragon not teach you?"
Lifting her skirt, she sat on the earth, patting the ground for Li to join. Smiling, she asked for a flatbread. He teased, "Don't you abstain at night?" She coughed, "I rose and grew hungry!"
Grinning, Li Yongyi cooked two bowls of plain noodles with poached eggs and pickles, setting them on a stone. "No meat at home—make do," he said. Nangong Qiushui raised a brow, twirling noodles into a drumstick shape, jesting, "Behold, a chicken leg!" Li pointed at a pickle, retorting, "Then this is braised pork!"
They laughed beneath the dilapidated roof, stars glinting through its gaps. Nangong had pawned her jewelry post-illness to afford this crumbling courtyard, her priceless jade pendant fetching a mere ten taels. Yet she smiled, saying, "Tokens matter less than people."
As they finished, Nangong dozed off. Li Yongyi gripped his sword, vowing, "One day, I'll make today's jests reality." He carried her to her room, her frame light as dandelion fluff, fragrant with faint floral notes. Her bed, mere straw and earth topped with bedding, promised harsh winters.
Covering her gently, he returned to his room, exhaled, and pulled open his shirt to view the Bronze Cauldron. The crimson jade elixir had vanished, but a Crimson Wyrm Sigil gleamed vividly upon its walls!
**(Chapter End)**