75: My Godly Father (Part Six)

"Brat, are you sure you didn't see wrong?"

The Cripple's voice carried a hint of trembling as he turned around, his weathered face filled with shock and suspicion.

"Are you joking with Uncle Cripple? How could a mountain draw a sword?"

He tried to use a joking tone to hide the shock in his heart.

Quan Yun shook his head, his youthful face full of sincerity.

"Uncle Cripple... I didn't see wrong. Just now, I really saw the mountain look like it was about to draw a sword..."

The Cripple smiled and didn't respond further.

He limped over to Quan Yun's side, his large, calloused hand resting on Quan Yun's shoulder once again.

A faint wisp of spiritual power entered Quan Yun's body again, traveling through his Meridians.

The light in The Cripple's eyes shifted from shock to disappointment, finally settling into calm.

That's right.

It was indeed a Mortal Body.

Could that glimpse just now really have been just a coincidence?

A six-year-old child's random, innocent words?

Before he could think further, a youthful voice interrupted his thoughts.

"Uncle Cripple... you know kung fu, right?"

Quan Yun looked up, his clear eyes burning with intensity.

"Teach me martial arts."

"I want to save Sister Yu!"

Hearing Quan Yun's words, The Cripple laughed for no apparent reason.

In that laughter, there was self-mockery, reminiscence, and a hint of complex emotions.

He withdrew his hand and turned to look at the silent mountain once again.

The wind blew harder.

A moment later, he made a significant decision.

He spoke in a deep, raspy voice.

"Have you thought it through? Are you sure you want to practice martial arts with me?"

"With your Aptitude, once you step onto this path, your life is destined to be anything but easy."

"Perhaps there is a chance to soar to the heights, but most likely..."

The Cripple didn't finish his sentence, but the desolate and lonely aura around him said it all.

"I've thought it through!"

Quan Yun answered without hesitation.

"For Sister Yu, I'm willing to do anything!"

"Hehe..." The Cripple laughed again, but this time, there was a sense of relief in his laughter.

"In that case... I hope you won't regret it in the future."

He turned his head and looked directly at Quan Yun for the first time.

"The beginning of the Martial Dao lies in the Foundation. The first step is to build a solid Physical Body Foundation; this realm is called Body Tempering."

Body Tempering Realm.

When these words reached his ears, Quan Yun felt a familiar surge of emotion in his heart for no reason. In ages past, he had heard them countless times, even experienced them.

But the feeling was fleeting.

He didn't think much of it, only nodding vigorously, firmly etching every word The Cripple said into his heart.

From that day on, Quan Yun's life changed completely.

Before dawn, when the first rooster crowed in the village, he had to crawl out of bed and follow The Cripple to the back mountain.

What The Cripple taught him wasn't some exquisite Move or profound Cultivation Technique.

It was just the Horse Stance.

Legs bent, center of gravity lowered, arms held out straight—he would stand like that for a full hour.

Sweat poured down his forehead, soaking his eyes and making them sting. His legs felt like they were filled with lead, shaking uncontrollably. Several times, his vision went dark, and he fainted.

But upon waking, The Cripple would only look at him coldly and utter two words.

"Continue."

After the Horse Stance came carrying water.

Two wooden buckets larger than his head were carried trip after trip from the stream at the foot of the mountain to the courtyard halfway up, filling the large water vat.

At first, he couldn't even lift the empty buckets and had to drag them along the ground.

Later, he could run with the empty buckets.

Then, there was a shallow layer of water in the buckets.

Half a year passed, and he could finally carry half-full buckets, wobbling as he traversed the rugged mountain path.

A thin layer of muscle began to appear on his small body, and his skin was tanned to a bronze hue.

But such progress was too slow.

He was exhausted every day, falling asleep as soon as he hit the bed, but he couldn't feel any flow of "Qi" within his body.

That night, dragging his weary body, he found The Cripple staring blankly at the moon in the courtyard.

"Uncle Cripple..." Quan Yun's voice was a bit low. "Am I very stupid? Is my talent very poor?"

The Cripple didn't turn around, simply taking a sip of wine from his gourd.

But beneath his calm exterior, his heart was deeply shaken.

Stupid?

Poor talent?

This kid was practically a monster!

A Mortal Body, without any Spiritual Qi nourishment or Medicinal Pill assistance, relying solely on basic training for half a year—his physical strength and endurance were almost catching up to those so-called Spirit Bodies, children fed on Heaven And Earth Treasures.

Even more terrifying was his willpower.

That resilience beyond his years, that persistence etched into his Soul, left even The Cripple astonished.

In his life, he had seen countless Geniuses.

Sword Dao prodigies, natural Divine Bodies.

But not one of them could be like Quan Yun, who, with a mere Mortal Body, showed not a single complaint or retreat during such tedious and painful tempering.

"What a pity... what a pity..."

The Cripple sighed in his heart.

Such staggering Comprehension Ability and willpower, yet they appeared in a Mortal Body! It truly was an injustice of the Heavenly Dao, a waste of a precious gift!

If this child weren't a Mortal Body, but even a low-grade Spirit Body... his future achievements would be immeasurable.

"No... Little Yun'er."

The Cripple finally turned around, looking at the dejected child before him, and said something that surprised even himself.

"You aren't stupid. Your path is different from others."

He stood up and walked to the center of the courtyard.

"The world only knows that traveling ten thousand miles can broaden one's horizons, and reading ten thousand books can grant wisdom."

His voice was distant.

Quan Yun looked up at him, confused.

The Cripple slowly raised his fist in the simplest, most basic straight punch posture.

"But, throwing a million punches can also lead to divinity!"

"Throw... a million punches?" Quan Yun muttered to himself.

"Do you think throwing a punch is just a simple movement?"

"It is, but it also isn't."

"The first punch, you are striking with the body. It is to temper your muscles, bones, and skin."

"The ten-thousandth punch, you are striking with the heart. It is to grind away your impulsiveness and distractions through tedious repetition, tempering your heart."

"The hundred-thousandth punch, you are striking with intent. When punching becomes your instinct, where your intent goes, the fist follows. At that time, your fist is no longer just a part of your body, but an extension of your will."

The Cripple's voice wasn't loud, yet it struck heavily against Quan Yun's heart, opening a door for him to a brand new world.

"Then... what about the millionth punch?" Quan Yun pressed, his breathing becoming rapid.

The Cripple smiled, a smile tinged with loneliness.

"The millionth punch strikes at the 'Dao'."

"When you do one thing to the extreme, to absolute purity, you can glimpse the ultimate principles of the world's operation. That punch is no longer thrown by you; rather, the world Moves with you, and the Great Dao opens the way for you."

"That punch can reach divinity."

Quan Yun was completely stunned.

He saw a brand new path.

A hidden Dragon in the abyss—though it sees no sunlight, every breath and every heartbeat is accumulating strength.

The day the Dragon's roar echoes through the abyss will be the time when rivers and seas flow backward and the world changes color!

The disappointment and confusion in his eyes vanished instantly, replaced by a burning fighting spirit.

He walked to the center of the courtyard, following The Cripple's example, assuming the stance and throwing a fierce straight punch.

The wind from the punch whistled.

His youthful face was filled with unprecedented determination.

"Then let's do it!"

"Throw a million punches!"