Night has fallen, and the dorm is cold and quiet.
Crack, crack.
Andrew Han rotated his palms back and forth, as if guiding some profound, indescribable force. Between his hands, a pitch‑black phantom of a mountain took shape, towering before his chest—existing in the space between his palms.
This was the First Mountain realm of the Mountain‑Sketch Pillar Stance.
He gradually realized that as his Internal Power grew stronger, the mountain phantom became increasingly solid. An absurd idea surfaced in his mind—could it be that once he reached Solidified Core Internal Power, the phantom would actually become real?
To truly paint a mountain?
Perhaps the Mountain‑Sketch Pillar Stance really could paint a mountain!
As for the basic structure of this phantom, he had mostly grasped it by now. Internal Power was the true foundation of the Mountain‑Sketch Pillar Stance; the mountain phantom was simply the visible form of Internal Power’s flow.
“Truly miraculous.”
“Internal Power, as wielded by martial artists, is essentially a special kind of energy.”
He mused as he released the Mountain‑Sketch Pillar Stance.
Boom!
He slowly extended his left palm, letting Presented Liquid Internal Power flow within. Suddenly, he clenched his fist, and the air seemed to explode—faint, milky‑white shockwaves spread outward from his palm.
A simple palm strike—enough to blast the air!
If he unleashed his full strength, he could probably shake the entire dormitory building.
“Back then, I witnessed with my own eyes the unbelievable power of a punch that could blast empty air.” He sighed inwardly. “At the time, I dreamed of reaching that level. But now, I can do it myself.”
“However...”
“If my master and that man had actually used Internal Power in their battle, the shockwaves would have caused an earthquake for kilometers around. The might of the Martial Lord Realm is not something a ruined, abandoned site could ever contain.”
Only by truly encountering the Martial Lord Realm could one understand its terror.
Take, for example, that blood‑red giant bovine—
Without entering Berserker State, even Andrew couldn’t stand against it—his chances of survival would be one in ten, and he’d likely die on the spot.
Buzz!
He clenched his left fist, then slowly relaxed it.
Air currents scattered, and the air thudded dully. That Presented Liquid Internal Power shone through his skin with unimaginable brilliance—like gold and silver, like royal purple, like pure white, like a riot of colors, for now impossible to define.
“Hmm.”
“It’s barely past nine, and it’s already settled?” Andrew glanced at the text from Zane Zhou, a gentle smile curling his lips. “My friend, this is as far as I can help you.”
When helping Gavin Bright, it must never be charity!
What he gave wasn’t money, but opportunity—and confidence. If it were just money, he could easily hand over hundreds of thousands, even millions, but that would only destroy Gavin Bright’s drive and fighting spirit.
All he hoped for was—
That years later, when he met Gavin Bright again, they could pick up right where they left off—sit down together and talk for hours.
Ding dong.
A WeChat video call invitation popped up on his phone screen.
"Lucy?"
Andrew smiled and answered the call. Instantly, a chubby, round-cheeked face filled the screen—big, sparkling eyes blinking up at him.
It was Lucy Han, now a bit over four years old.
"Brother!"
"Lucy wants to know—when are you coming home?" Lucy stretched out her soft little hand, tapping the camera twice with her baby voice.
"Tomorrow," Andrew replied quickly.
"Huh? What day?" Lucy blinked her big eyes at him.
Andrew’s face darkened for a moment, nearly thrown off by the child’s question. Then he smiled and said, "Brother will come home tomorrow."