The members of the Freewind Sect settled down by the ancient tomb. With the Yuan-Mongol army on the move and getting more trigger-happy by the day, the Song troops on the border were so spooked they could barely sleep. It was definitely not the time to wander around. Luckily, deep in the Zhongnan Mountains, they found the perfect hideout. Sylvia Shadows had already deployed her Shadow Ops crew all over, gathering intel and sniffing out news. Thanks to their advanced comms, they kept in touch with the Tianshan HQ without missing a beat.
Maybe nobody remembers, but here’s a little throwback—Spirit Eagle Palace is seriously good at handling birds. There’s this fierce, jet-black bird with a snow-white head and neck, swooping in and out under cover of darkness every night. Nobody knows its scientific name, but they call it the 'Spirit Eagle Courier,' a carnivorous menace. It’s the official mail carrier for Spirit Eagle Palace—flies high, flies fast, and has stamina to boot.
These Spirit Eagle Couriers totally beat carrier pigeons. First off, the journey from Tianshan to Zhongnan is thousands of miles, and there are raptors everywhere. Carrier pigeons get snatched mid-flight all the time—so much for secure messaging. But with Spirit Eagle Couriers, you don’t have to worry about your bird getting eaten. Heck, some of those missing pigeons probably ended up as Spirit Eagle Courier snacks.
Second, and here’s the weird part: carrier pigeons need tons of training to remember just two spots. Their tiny bird brains can’t handle much. Spirit Eagle Couriers, though? Super easy. Just don’t stand them up—yeah, that phrase is extra funny here—and they’ll always come back to their keeper after the job’s done.
What? How’s that possible? Birds have famously terrible memories, so why is this one so epic?
Well, sure, 'no magical animals allowed after the founding of the PRC,' but hey, this is still the old feudal, superstitious Southern Song! Besides, the name’s Spirit Eagle Courier—of course it’s got some supernatural smarts. It’s an otherworldly animal, so let’s not get hung up on details. Otherwise, poor Cang Cang would be sobbing on her hamster wheel.
Actually, Spirit Eagle Courier isn’t even the coolest bird around. According to Yang Qi, the real high-end stuff is the Golden Blade King’s 'Knife-Winged Bird.' That thing is blazing fast, flies way up in the stratosphere, and packs a punch. It’s got brains and tracking skills that make even a biker on a runaway motorcycle look easy to catch.
And don’t forget that blinged-out gold color! Yang Qi made a secret vow—if she ever caught one, she’d keep it as a pet. She’s even got the name ready: 'Goldie.' Imagine it—left hand holding Goldie, right hand holding Cang Cang, decked out in fancy hats and fur coats, maxing out the style points. She’d call up a thousand henchmen, Charcoal would rally a thousand more horses, and boom, you’ve got a thousand riders. Then she’d take down that infamous Huanggang Education Bureau building—the one that haunts every high schooler’s dreams—and snag a platinum trophy in Earth Online.
Anyway, No One Under Heaven settled into this little valley and enjoyed a stretch of peaceful days without missing a beat.
During those chill days, everyone found their own groove, and a whole new pecking order started to take shape.
First off, Lady Sanmiao had the Three Sages of Kunlun totally wrapped around her finger. She’d ask questions half-heartedly, and they’d spill everything to prove their loyalty—didn’t even last a day before their secrets were all out, including the whole 'Scripture in Oil' thing that they barely had time to explain.
Time, place, people—everything crystal clear. One Spirit Eagle Courier flew straight to Tianshan, and the Western HQ had already sent folks to Monkey Peak on Kunlun Mountain to find the monkey.
Next up, Guo Xiang—and every big and little schemer in camp—had Zhang Junbao cornered. The new heartthrob had become the camp’s lucky mascot, and with that weird gender ratio, Junbao, his shiny bald head, and his infamous cross-dressing misadventure became everyone’s favorite target for pranks.
It didn’t take long before Guo Xiang had that little baldy trained so well he’d go east if she said so, not west.
Then came the surprise pecking order—Guo Xiang and the little kid. Something got switched on in her, because when she faced that maybe-reincarnated Golden Wheel kid, she suddenly felt like a mix of strict parent and loving elder. Weird, right? Golden Wheel was her master, but now Guo Xiang was the one acting like the teacher, rolling up her sleeves to give him kung fu lessons.
Good thing Yang Qi happened to be out walking her horse and pulled her aside. Sure, Guo Xiang’s martial arts weren’t bad by jianghu standards, but to Yang Qi, she was just barely passing. And she only got that far thanks to her strict dad—left to her own devices, she’d have gone off the rails ages ago.
Playing on New Game+ hits different. This little kid’s talent and bones are off the charts, like maxing out your starting stats—makes everyone jealous. Even if he’s not Golden Wheel reincarnated, he’s got a bright future. Same goes for Zhang Junbao and He Qiliao—they’re all top-tier talent. Wu Zhengfeng’s even thinking about setting up a manservant department in the palace. Looks like these guys are headed for 'palace life' pretty soon.
One day, Wu Jiaoniang quietly told Yang Qi that Guo Xiang had a super rare reverse constitution.
“Men are yang, women are yin, that’s the way of the world. Go against it, and you’re asking for trouble—just look at us. But some people are just built different. This girl, for example, is a woman, but if she trains in yang-type internal arts, she’ll have an easier time mastering them. A reverse constitution like that? Super rare.” Wu Zhengfeng spelled it out: “If she practices the Supreme Six Harmonies Skill, she’ll nail it.”
“It’s a talent explosion—a good omen! Lately, luck’s been so high it’s making my heart race.” But it makes sense: Guo Xiang’s family is full of martial arts geniuses, and her parents are masters of the Nine Yin Manual. But she ended up using part of the Solar Sutra memorized by Jueyuan to create Emei Solar Skill, founding the Emei Sect. So, that reverse constitution isn’t all that surprising.
This chapter’s not over yet ^.^—click next page to keep reading!
The rest of the crew includes Wudang and Kunlun founders (in the old version, He Zudao started Kunlun), plus a reincarnator. Even with top-tier talent, it’s not that surprising anymore.
“The more talent, the better! Just teach the right kung fu, train them up, and don’t worry about raising a traitor.” Yang Qi swept her hand like a boss, voice booming and face morphing into a hero meme: “Under heaven, all land is mine! All lolis are my subjects—all the girls belong to me! Nobody escapes my Five-Finger Mountain—mwahahaha!”
Thud—a swift karate chop landed on her forehead. Wu Jiaoniang cut off her nonsense before she could get any dumber.
As the queen at the top of the food chain, Yang Qi had plenty to show for it. Her short retreat these days paid off—she figured out a lot.
Jueyuan’s dying recitation of the Nine Yang fragment, plus Zhang Junbao’s foundation techniques, let her piece together about sixty percent of the Nine Yang Divine Skill. Add in the complete Wedding Dress Divine Skill, and she now had three ultra-yang, ultra-hardcore internal arts manuals. These three might be the only top-tier yang techniques you could find in both worlds.
After careful study, each style had its own flavor. Nine Yang focused on 'yang'—like gentle spring sunshine, mellow and endless, great for support but not so hot for offense. Wedding Dress was all about 'fierceness'—fiery and explosive, tough to handle unless you’ve got skills. High burst, high attack, but not as lasting as Nine Yang. Supreme Technique was 'domineering'—like a meteor smashing down, wild and uncompromising, but not as stable as Nine Yang, making late-game upgrades tricky.
Each pure yang style had its perks and flaws. After some brainstorming, Yang Qi and Wu Zhengfeng realized they might be able to blend all three, combining strengths and covering weaknesses. But these divine manuals aren’t like basic kung fu—tweaking them isn’t easy, even for martial arts nerds like them. They’d have to plan carefully and take their time.
If they really pull off merging the three manuals, it’ll be an unprecedented yang-style masterpiece.
On top of all that, Yang Qi finally figured out what was happening to her. Sun Wukong took a spin in the Eight Trigram Furnace and came out with fiery eyes. Yang Qi got roasted in the alchemy furnace too—almost overcooked herself without even noticing, but the benefits were huge.
First, she realized she’d somehow mastered Iron Technique and Gold Technique—no wonder her ten fingers poked little holes in the Dragon-Slaying Stone. But her 'mastery' was nothing like the usual kind.
Take Golden Bell Shield, for example. Masters don’t keep it on 24/7—nobody has enough energy for that. You have to focus, channel your qi, and stay silent or risk leaking energy. You barely move your feet. When the shield’s up, you’re super tough. Otherwise, you’re just as squishy as anyone else—get hit with a blade, you bleed; get whacked with a stick, it hurts. Even the toughest monks, maxed out at twelve levels, can move freely with the shield up, but talking is still off-limits.
Iron Technique is similar. It doesn’t need much inner power, but you still have to tense up, channel your blood, and tighten your muscles to activate it. If you were stiff as a board all the time, life would be a nightmare.
Bottom line: Iron and Gold are both active skills. No use, no effect.
But here’s what really puzzled Yang Qi—once those two techniques landed on her, they somehow changed into passive skills, always switched on. The force from Iron, the energy from Gold, all got blended together. Iron Shirt, Iron Head, all those separate tricks merged into one seamless system.
Iron Technique fused with her body, Gold Technique fused with her meridians. Blood and qi flowed naturally, and both defensive skills worked like breathing or a heartbeat—always on. Normally, they’d idle in low-power mode, but when she needed them, they’d auto-adjust and ramp up.
She didn’t even have to think about it—like that day she poked her fingers into stone, her body automatically split up the blood and qi. What looked like a simple poke actually triggered Iron Arm, Diamond Finger, and shockwave effects, making the rock crumble on contact.
“I just muddled through—I have no clue how I pulled it off.”
It doesn’t mess with her daily life—no zombie-jumping stiffness. No need for manual control, just smart management 24/7. She’s still a softie, but now she’s got full-coverage, no-slack defense. It’s the ultimate anti-assassin kung fu.
You could gather every master who ever trained these defenses, and nobody could explain what happened. Legend says that with Diamond Invincibility mastered, you never have to worry about sneak attacks again—no clue if Yang Qi’s situation is the same or different.
“These skills have fused into one—time to ditch the old names and come up with something fresh.”
“Great idea! Let me think… Got it! Jiaoniang, what do you like better—‘Eternal Undying Body’ or ‘Dragon Immortal Physique’?”
Thud—a karate chop: “Can you please tone it down for once?”
This chapter’s not done yet~.~—click next page for more awesome stuff!
“Tone it down… Oh, I’ve got another one! How about ‘Eggshell’?”
After a round of debate—and Wu Jiaoniang’s fierce objections—‘Eggshell’ didn’t make the cut. In the end, since it’s a mix of gold and iron, they called it ‘Golden Iron Body.’ Of course, Yang Qi still secretly uses ‘Eggshell,’ and Wu Zhengfeng just lets her do her thing.
Both gold and iron hit level eight, so for now, ‘Golden Iron Body’ counts as level eight.
On top of the body protection stuff, the second big discovery was that she’d somehow acquired the Marrow-Cleansing Scripture—one of Shaolin’s four legendary treasures. She’d already mastered eleven out of eighteen diagrams, with insane results. Strictly speaking, her meridians were only middling for Supreme Technique, not genius-tier, but to Yang Qi, it was a game-changer. Training Supreme Technique on the Cold Jade Bed was way more efficient, her power skyrocketing, finally letting her enjoy the perks of her massive life force.
And that’s just eleven diagrams—if she masters all eighteen, she’ll be a pure yang powerhouse!
Yang Qi was over the moon and shared the news with Wu Jiaoniang. Wu was all in—she’d been stuck at 130 years of cultivation for ages, thinking she’d never level up again. But now, with the Marrow-Cleansing Scripture, there might be hope. She dove right in, studying all eighteen diagrams.
For now, progress was slow. Luckily, Wu Jiaoniang was patient and steady—she’d get through the first six diagrams with time, but after that, it’d all depend on fate.
Skipping all the little side stories—let’s get to the big news.
After a deep self-check, Yang Qi found her physical strength had made a breakthrough. But this time, it was different. Normally, if she summoned all her qi and blood, she’d see a dragon-shaped aura. Now, on top of that solid Dragon Force, a blurry shadow appeared—like a phantom dragon. That shadow packed about three tons of force, roughly thirty percent of a full Dragon Force.
On paper, that’s good news—her strength hadn’t improved in ages, and now it finally did.
But that three tons of force made Yang Qi frown. It wasn’t Dragon Force, and it wasn’t Elephant Force. It was more refined than Elephant, but still a notch below true Dragon Force. In practice, it seemed the same—but the new shadow couldn’t be used alongside the original Dragon Force. If she channeled Dragon Force into her left arm, the phantom couldn’t go there too—no matter what she tried, they wouldn’t run in parallel.
It was like dragons and snakes don’t mix, or oil and water won’t blend.
“So weird—what’s going on?” Yang Qi felt like she and Teacher Yang had both hit some kind of invisible wall, like they’d reached the end of the road.
Eight levels of Dragon-Elephant, eight levels of Prajna.
One Dragon Force, perfect spiritual awareness.
It’s like climbing a mountain and hitting the peak. The days of fast upgrades thanks to unlimited life energy were over. To go higher, she’d have to smash through an invisible wall.