A true powerhouse has no need to hide.
Even Miles Ning, who had weathered countless storms, was momentarily taken aback by these words, sensing the steady confidence in his disciple Andrew Han.
Hiss.
He took a drag from his cigarette.
With half a breath, he finished half the cigarette. The tip burned away at a startling speed, leaving a long trail of ash. Guided by an invisible force, the ash drifted steadily into the nearby trash bin lined with a deep blue garbage bag.
To command the forces of heaven and earth—that is the hallmark of a Three-Step Martial Lord.
Heh.
"You really are something, kid." Miles Ning remarked coldly, but a faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, betraying his pride as he guessed at Andrew Han's response.
It was barely noticeable, but it was a genuine smile.
He never imagined that in less than a year since taking Andrew Han as his disciple, the name of Green Mountain Sect would begin to reclaim its former glory, stirring waves in the Martial Arts World and returning to the eyes of countless martial artists.
Absurd!
Ridiculous!
But it filled him with excitement.
"In the remainder of my life, there are only two things I want to accomplish," Miles Ning thought to himself. "First, to see the name of Green Mountain Sect rise to unmatched fame and shake the Martial Arts World."
"Second,"
"Is to personally see Lucy Han grow into a real grade-schooler."
He didn't know if he would live to see it.
But regardless, the events before him filled Miles Ning with such joy that even the wrinkles on his face seemed to fade.
"Returning through the air."
"Kid, you must've used Daylight Ascent, right?" Miles Ning continued, his voice carrying through the phone.
How could he not be proud? How could he not feel a surge of pride?
As a master, Miles Ning felt a deep sense of gratification. And as the sect leader of Green Mountain Sect, he could barely contain his joy.
"Mm."
On the other end of the receiver, Andrew Han's voice came through, though the background was noisy, as if he were in a bustling public place: "Master, that's exactly the technique I'm using."
For someone at the Martial General Realm, walking on air is still a bit beyond reach.
If it weren’t for mastering Daylight Ascent at the Fusion tier, even with Andrew’s powerful Internal Power, he probably couldn’t walk on air so freely.
This shows just how crucial a profound and mysterious technique can be.
A high-level technique is truly invaluable.
Thinking this, Andrew felt even more fortunate to have taken Miles Ning as his master: "Master, the five techniques you gave me before can all be practiced up to the titled Martial Lord tier. Besides, I’ve already prepared for this matter, so you don’t need to worry."
He simply believed:
If you take on a burden, you deserve an equal reward!
For example, apprenticing under Miles Ning meant risking a violent death on the street with no one knowing, and bearing the responsibility for the sect’s revival. But he had to admit—Miles Ning’s help was immense.
"Haha."
Miles Ning actually chuckled and said, "Just five techniques? Come back when you have time. I still have forty or fifty similar techniques here—I should hand them all over to you."
On hearing this—
Andrew was genuinely shocked: "So generous?"
Tuhao?
Miles Ning squinted his eyes.
"Tu? Hao?" His wrinkled old face instantly changed color, voice turning cold: "Good disciple, I’ve always been broad-minded and humble. Explain to me—what does 'tuhao' mean?"
On the other end of the line, Andrew couldn’t help but laugh, caught between amusement and exasperation.
His own master was, after all, getting old—already unable to keep up with the times, still thinking 'tuhao' was a derogatory term.
"Master, 'tuhao' is internet slang, used to describe someone as noble and generous—just like you. I honestly think 'tuhao' suits you perfectly."
But truthfully, Miles Ning was even fiercer than any 'tuhao.'
After all, what kind of ruthless figure could shamelessly call himself broad-minded? Surely only someone who can accommodate piles of bones.
"Oh."
Miles Ning smacked his lips.
He tried to keep his voice friendly. That dried, wrinkled right hand, covered in the marks of age, held a pristine white Meizu X6 phone right in front of his eyes.
He pressed the HOME button.
He logged into the browser and quietly looked up the term 'tuhao.'
Immediately, the first Baidu Baike entry popped up: 'Tuhao—usually refers to someone with money, who spends irrationally, and likes to show off.'
"So that's what it means."
Miles Ning’s face remained calm, his wrinkled old features twitching twice.
He let out a breath, leaned back on the sofa made from Demon hides, and a faint light glimmered in his eyes: "Good, very good, an excellent compliment... I’ll gladly accept the title of 'tuhao!'"
Anyone disagree?
Disagree and you die!
Miles Ning snorted, logged into WeChat, and clicked on the contact for Thunder Path Sect’s master—the one above Li Gang, known as the top Martial Lord.
The WeChat chat history was completely blank.
Last time he’d messaged that guy, Miles Ning had crushed his phone.
But as a titled Martial Lord, his memory was formidable—he clearly remembered the last message in their WeChat chat: "Heh ha heh heh ha, my disciple is Li Gang! Old Ning, you’re falling behind. Do you even know who Li Gang is?"
Miles Ning’s face twitched, his eyes narrowing into slits. With a finger Martial Technique, he hammered out a rapid string of replies: "My disciple is Andrew Han! My disciple is Andrew Han! My disciple is Andrew Han!"