Facing Leon Yu's smiling gaze, Andrew Han, seated in the second-to-last row of the coach, shook his head and refused: "You really overestimate my acting skills, True Person Yu."
In truth.
Andrew wasn't yet truly seasoned or sophisticated; inwardly, he was a little eager to try... But after crushing and killing two giant tiger Demons last time, he'd already confirmed he hadn't inherited his parents' Oscar-worthy acting skills.
Thinking of this,
Andrew shook his head again and said, "I'm afraid if I start acting, I'll embarrass even myself."
The vehicle continued moving, swaying occasionally. Seated in the last row, Miles Ning curled his lip: "You don't understand what Leon really means. He's just suggesting you slow down and settle yourself."
"Settle myself?" Andrew was puzzled.
Miles Ning squinted, speaking lightly: "Maybe you still remember your original reason for practicing martial arts. But as you've grown stronger, you've become more and more lofty."
Hearing this,
Andrew couldn't help but frown, glancing at his master, Miles Ning.
Lofty? That was a joke—he'd always insisted on humility; unless facing Demons and Specters, he was basically a proper gentleman. When had he ever been lofty?
"I've said before," Miles Ning didn't answer his terrifying disciple's questioning look directly, "The Martial Arts World and real society blend together. Look at any martial artist—who doesn't use WeChat and QQ? Even I, old as I am, have a WeChat account."
"Training in martial arts is important, but being a person is more important."
"If you train alone and cut off communication with others, you'll only be driven forward by force. Don't let strength control your path—remember your original goal for moving forward."
Miles Ning's voice-transmission was calm as ever.
But if one looked closely, they could see the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes twitching twice now and then—after all, he'd witnessed Andrew's Inspiration Berserker State firsthand, and he still hoped to live another two or three years.
"Oh."
Andrew didn't notice, only falling into thoughtful silence.
It was true—since advancing to the Martial Lord Realm, he'd been rushing about nonstop... mostly fighting Demons and Specters.
As a result, he hadn't had time or the mood to care about his own life.
For example, when it came to what to eat today, Andrew's first thought was: it didn't matter, as long as it was food, as long as it met his body's needs. He no longer felt the joy or satisfaction he once had from tasting delicious dishes... His life, even his entire existence, had begun to serve martial cultivation.
But.
From the very beginning.
Practicing martial arts was meant for a better life!
"Did I get it all backwards?"
Andrew asked himself, dazed: "At first, I just wanted to prevent the crises of my previous life, for our family of four to be reunited and happy... But now, as long as I can increase my strength, I pursue it almost at any cost."
That's right.
How long had it been since he played with Lucy?
That's right.
How long had it been since he sat down with his father, William Han, to talk about life and its meaning?
"Master is right."
Andrew frowned, pondering: "The crisis of Demons and Specters isn't an excuse. Would killing them all really let me live the life I want? Clearly, the life I desire is already within reach, but I keep delaying, telling myself to wait—how long do I have to wait?"
Wait until all Demons are dead, until all Specters are gone?
Wait until the end of time, until there's no time left to fulfill filial duties?
"Mm."
"No wonder..." Andrew gently closed his eyes. "I've been moving too fast, rushing to accomplish everything, afraid to relax, afraid to stop, afraid to waste even a moment. Yet I've forgotten the scenery along the road, and neglected the beliefs I've always chased."
Perhaps.
He should stop for a while.
Calm his heart, reflect deeply. If you walk too fast, sometimes you need to stop and let your soul catch up.
......
Mid-August, Riverford City, Southvale Province—a specialized medical facility for martial practitioners.
This relatively compact medical facility was practically built for Andrew Han, though it also benefited surrounding martial artists. Such high-profile arrangements immediately drew major attention from the Martial Arts World.
It was crazy!
The news had already spread like wildfire!
Anyone above the Martial Lord Realm basically knew about Andrew’s battle overturning the cliffside ambush. Their attitudes and feelings varied, but it was hard to put into words.
"Recuperation."
"I’m recuperating my consciousness." At this moment, Andrew wore a light blue short-sleeve shirt, standing by the bright window, quietly reminding himself: "Yes, I’m a patient."
Being sick—how wonderful. This feeling was almost delightful.
Since he began cultivating martial arts, he had never fallen ill—not even a cold. Catching a chill was absolutely impossible for him.
"But."
"If I wore short sleeves to the Arctic, maybe I could actually catch a cold." Andrew crossed his arms behind his back, his clean short-sleeve shirt and slacks outlining his cultivated physique. His eyes seemed to conceal endless power.
He really was too strong.
Meanwhile, his Magma-State Internal Power steadily increased, clearly accumulating strength, progressing toward a qualitative transformation. Since that was the case, what would be the next form of Internal Power after the Magma State?
Andrew was deep in thought when the door behind him opened.
In truth, his Inspiration had sensed it long before, but to prove his acting skills, Andrew pretended he hadn't noticed, suppressing his aura and only turning around at that moment.
He composed himself...
He concealed his true strength to the utmost...
"You’re here."
Andrew stood with his hands behind his back, a faint smile on his face.
There were quite a few people at the door: local Titled Sequence experts, elderly Martial Lords, but most notably the younger generation of martial artists led by Jason Jiang and Chloe Ling.
"Andrew."
Jason Jiang stepped forward, eyes brimming with tears.
"Hm?"
Andrew sensed something was off.
"Leader Han, your brilliance has spread throughout the nation. You are the strongest Peerless Paragon in history, an unprecedented prodigy of Sinovera. Day and night I watch the satellite footage of your cliffside battle, worshipping every moment."
As he spoke, Jason hurried forward.
"Oh, heavens have mercy!"
"Look at your clothes—are you still wearing cheap online marketplace gear, with loose threads? This doesn't match your status! Leader Han, please don't abandon yourself, don't wrong yourself like this." Jason was so moved by Andrew that he gripped his hand tightly.
Oh.
Andrew's face darkened. Jason was just too much of a chuunibyou—utterly incomprehensible.
"Ahem."
"Don't get so worked up." Andrew casually pulled his hand back, slowly sitting on the light-colored sofa at the side of the room, feeling the whole scene was off-script.
This was completely different from what he’d expected.
Neither the Titled Sequence experts nor the elderly Martial Lords showed any pity, mockery, or sarcasm—only respect, admiration, nods, smiles, and voice-transmitted words of honor.
It was a scene of universal attention.
The barrage of voice transmissions was almost too much for Andrew’s mind to process... Only after a long while did the Titled Sequence and Martial Lords leave, leaving just the young martial prodigies from the WeChat group chat.
They no longer messaged through WeChat, but had come from afar to meet Andrew in person.
"You don't need to comfort me." Andrew leaned against the sofa, shaking his head weakly. Even though he could crush everyone present with a single finger, he kept humble: "The future belongs to you. I, an injured senior, can’t keep up with you young people anymore."
But as soon as he finished speaking, the young martial prodigies crowded forward.
"Andrew, Andrew, these are my sect’s secret pills—nourishing yin and yang, immediate effect guaranteed!" Chloe Ling eagerly offered her pills.
Andrew was speechless. "Do I, Andrew Han, really need this stuff?"
Beside him.
Ethan Chen from Red Lake Mist Sect came over as well.
"Leader, this is our Red Lake Mist Sect’s joint apology letter. The sect master and elders have all signed. We truly feel ashamed before the Green Mountain Sect." He handed over a paper covered with bold signatures.
At the same time—
The other Hidden Dragons also produced their carefully prepared gifts: peak-grade martial techniques, heartfelt items... For example, the infamous Heavenly Bedchamber Manual, which could let Andrew be less cautious, and indirectly boost Monica Zhang’s Internal Power.
"Enough!"
Andrew frowned, unable to help but ask, "You’re going too far. What’s all this gift-giving about? Do you really think I’d just accept all this?" As he spoke, he scooped up the Heavenly Bedchamber Manual and Chloe’s three boxes of pills, stuffing them into his jacket.
"And also—"
"What’s this?"
Andrew pointed at the small bottle in Jason Jiang’s hand.
"This is refined herbal medicine, with life-extending effects and—" Jason was still explaining when Andrew, without hesitation, snatched the bottle and patted Jason’s shoulder.
"You’re all too kind."
"Such nice weather, and so many gifts—how could I possibly refuse?" Andrew shook his head, stood up, and packed the treasures into his black backpack.
Everyone looked a little stunned, then couldn’t help but laugh.
With the elders gone, they no longer had to follow formal etiquette, so they gathered around Andrew.
"It’s only right. This is what we should do."
"By the way, Andrew, when you punched that giant gray bear Demon to death, then tore the giant wolf Demon in half midair—how exactly did you do it?"
"Let me ask first, let me ask!"
"As Sinovera’s number-one Titled Sequence powerhouse of the younger generation, a peerless legend and heavenly prodigy—Andrew, how do you feel?"