Chapter 18: A Wave of Prosperity

A fruit pit was hurled toward Zhang Ji.

Yet this pit radiated a crimson glow.

Its speed surpassed that of an ordinary bullet by an astonishing margin, and its destructive power was beyond imagination.

Among those present, only one person reacted in time.

That was Li Long.

With a snap of his fingers, Li Long released a burst of transparent energy, arriving before the fruit pit, intercepting it.

“Pfft! Bang!”

The fruit pit exploded on the spot, and the collision of the two energies caused a blast. Zhang Ji was pushed back by the shockwave, stumbling forward and falling to the ground.

“Such disregard for the rules. It seems the Qianshan Sect has no intention of continuing this game,” Li Long said coolly.

His voice was soft, yet carried through the energy vibrations, reaching the entire arena.

“I’m just old and a bit clumsy—didn’t mean to lose grip of the fruit pit, nephew. Surely you won’t hold it against me?” Pang Yanyang also spoke up.

“Clumsy with the fruit pit, huh?” Li Long’s tone was cold. “Old man, if you want to test your mettle against me, step into the ring and try.”

With those words, Li Long leapt gracefully, his figure as light as a crane’s, landing beside Zhang Ji. Without effort, he grasped Zhang Ji by the shoulder with an invisible suction, lifting him into his palm. Then, with a casual toss, he flung Zhang Ji onto the spectators’ stands over seven meters high.

Zhang Ji landed without any residual momentum, immediately supported by Master Kui, demonstrating Li Long’s exquisite control over his strength.

“You’re still as fiery as ever, nephew,” Pang Yanyang said as he stood and leapt down into the arena.

The two faced each other, and Zhang Ji sensed an aura expanding between them—not a metaphor, but a tangible presence.

Dust and gravel around them collided rapidly, scattering outward.

Recalling how Li Long had suddenly grabbed and thrown him earlier, Zhang Ji guessed the cause.

The True Self School, part of the Yuanqi Sect.

Within the True Self School, there were three main branches:

The Body Strengthening Faction, focused on physical power and conditioning;

The Spiritual Intent Faction, emphasizing skill, spirit, and internal energy cultivation;

And the Yuanqi Faction.

This last one was the only branch capable of harnessing energy for offensive combat.

Yuanqi referred to a form of bio-energy extracted from the human body through specialized techniques.

By developing the spirit and condensing the body's essence, one could extract Yuanqi to store internally, refining and strengthening the body, protecting oneself, and unleashing various Yuanqi martial skills.

The wave-pushing technique from the game belonged to the Yuanqi Faction.

According to the game's lore, the Yuanqi Faction demanded exceptional innate talent.

Most fighters only began refining Yuanqi after reaching professional levels, as the process was extremely draining on one's vitality and spirit.

Without substantial recuperation, a fighter could not sustain the energy costs of refining Yuanqi.

Thus, only true masters could wield Yuanqi in battle.

In the arena, the aura clash between Li Long and Pang Yanyang rapidly reached its peak, and in the next instant, both vanished almost simultaneously.

Zhang Ji could not discern their movements, only hearing a sudden explosion, like a thunderclap.

“Boom!”

Moments later, a massive crater over a meter in diameter appeared in the cemented arena floor, evidence of the battle’s aftershock.

“Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!”

Flying debris and thunderous sounds echoed through the arena and even reached the stands.

Zhang Ji’s ears buzzed, his blood surged.

Beside him, Master Kui’s face flushed red as he covered his ears and retreated to a safe distance.

Others fared worse; two of the minor followers accompanying them were knocked unconscious, lying motionless.

Only Wang Quan remained composed, though his expression had grown grave.

Without sufficient strength, one wasn’t even qualified to watch.

“Whoosh! Crack!”

A stray stone shattered the distant glass.

Zhang Ji concentrated, attempting to catch the two fighters’ moves, but all he saw were two figures colliding at lightning speed, their techniques changing too fast to follow.

These were true masters; Zhang Ji felt his own earlier fights were mere child’s play compared to these titans.

Even casually tossing a fruit pit could be fatal.

At this moment, the two clashed again near where Zhang Ji watched.

“Bang! Boom!”

The explosive sound was like a bomb detonating, causing Zhang Ji’s already wounded body to feel faintly nauseous.

The shockwave brushed his face, causing pain.

He furrowed his brow and even took a half-step back.

Reading game settings alone never gave him a true sense of these masters’ power.

Now, experiencing it firsthand, he understood what the term “Grandmaster” truly meant.

“Old man, you’ve got a tough body!”

After exchanging hundreds of moves, Li Long stood in the center, his long hair flying, dust swirling around him, his aura visibly intense.

On the other side, Pang Yanyang panted heavily, his eyes filled with shock, clearly at a disadvantage.

“Nephew, let’s stop here. We can cease interfering with Shanli Island’s affairs,” Pang Yanyang said.

Though he was already in his seventies or eighties, grandmasters often lived past a hundred or twenty.

He still had decades of good life ahead and had no desire to risk it all against Li Long.

“Stop?” Li Long sneered coldly. “The rules of martial arts are clear: once you step into the ring, it’s a fight to the death!”

“Nephew, don’t make things irreversible! The Qianshan Sect has more than just me as grandmasters! The past was just a misunderstanding...” Pang Yanyang’s words, though threatening, betrayed his willingness to concede.

But Li Long’s aura surged again. With a slight retraction of his hands to chest level, a fierce suction gathered dust and sand from around him.

A faint blue glimmer condensed between his palms, then was forcefully expelled.

A faint, ethereal dragon shape shot forth, hurtling toward Pang Yanyang, who stood a hundred meters away.

Pang Yanyang’s expression changed drastically; he thrust both arms forward, a faint crimson glow appearing.

Yet his defenses were powerless.

“Pfft! Rumble!”

The dragon-shaped apparition smashed Pang Yanyang to pieces, then crashed into the arena wall, gouging a deep hole several meters wide.

Zhang Ji’s mouth fell open slightly, awe and longing in his eyes.

Li Long withdrew his hands, calming the Yuanqi fluctuations within.

His breathing was ragged.

After all, Pang Yanyang was an established grandmaster. Though Li Long held the advantage, without employing the newly grasped Five-Form Unity technique, he could not have produced such a staggering effect.

Ordinarily, it would take over a thousand moves to wear down such an old master.

Li Long lightly kicked off and floated down into the stands.

He said to Zhang Ji, “You fought well. Go back and heal properly. When you’re ready, come find me. If you need anything, talk to Elder Wang Quan. As long as it’s not unreasonable, it can be arranged.”

With that, he turned and left.

...

The conflict between the Qianshan Sect and the Five-Form Sect was temporarily over, signaling no further obstacles to unifying Shanli Island.

In Kui District, Zhang Ji was covered in premium ointments.

He used a sonic tooth stimulator reputed to promote secondary tooth growth; with it, even if he lost teeth ten times over, they could regrow.

“You really pushed yourself. I almost thought you were done for,” Master Kui said from afar, smoking a cigar with a sigh.

Zhang Ji took a bite of roast duck rice, swallowing quickly without much chewing.

“But it worked out. Am I considered lucky now?” he asked.

“Lucky?” Master Kui chuckled dryly. “You’re not just lucky; you’re privileged! You’ve been granted the true transmission of the Five-Form Sect, and most likely as the senior disciple. I’ve never heard of them accepting other true transmission students. From now on, you can freely choose any grandmaster-level martial art within the Five-Form Sect. As for wealth, don’t even mention it. You could probably withdraw a hundred million directly. But I advise you not to take money—seek martial resources instead. Those things can’t be bought with money. Your talent is strong; perhaps one day you’ll become a grandmaster yourself. Then no amount of money will suffice.”

Zhang Ji paused mid-bite, recalling Li Long’s wave-pushing stance, feeling a surge of inspiration.

Even with a cheat, true strength grows only through steady practice—there are no shortcuts.

To become a grandmaster requires at least a year of dedicated honing, barring any miraculous treasures.

To wield wave-pushing like Li Long would take even longer.

The Yuanqi Sect’s fighting techniques were the most difficult to master.

He hadn’t even fully grasped the “Raccoon Claw Skill” yet; such things were still just dreams.

Zhang Ji’s injuries healed rapidly.

Though aware of his unusual constitution, even he was surprised at the speed of his recovery.

It seemed the process of breaking through bodily limits also enhanced his overall abilities.

In just half a month, aside from only half regrowth of his lost teeth, the rest of his body had fully recovered without a hint of pain.

He sought out Li Long immediately.

“You’re healing fast,” Li Long remarked when he saw him.

He then handed Zhang Ji a token.

The token was metallic; its back featured four animals—snake, crane, leopard, and tiger—encircling a coiled majestic dragon. The front bore the ancient characters for “True Transmission.”

“This is your True Transmission token. Though your information is already in the system, formalities remain. The official induction ceremony will be held once you leave Shanli Island, but the authority it grants is yours now.”

“What authority?” Zhang Ji asked.

“Monthly stipend and access to certain resources. Those are a bit complicated—you can discuss details with Elder Wang Quan,” Li Long said, shaking his head.

He then handed Zhang Ji a small porcelain vial.

“Essence Pills—ten per month. They’ll aid your training. Your current strength is still weak. To firmly hold the True Transmission position, you need to reach at least the pinnacle of the second tier—roughly equivalent to professional level six.”

“I understand,” Zhang Ji nodded. “Anything else?”

Li Long looked at him and said, “Yes. You have two months to raise the Five-Form Sect flags in all the districts here, big or small.”