77: My Godly Father (Part 8)

"I have a punch that can split mountains, fill seas, slay demons, communicate with gods, and conquer Immortals!"

The boy's words rang out with resonance.

The Cripple stared intently at the child before him; his eyes, which had been dead and silent, were now filled with shock.

What arrogance, what dominance in those words.

Yet, coming from the mouth of a six-year-old, it did not seem ridiculous at all; instead, it carried a sense of determination that felt entirely fitting.

No regrets after placing a stone; no fear when throwing a punch.

What a "no fear when throwing a punch"!

The sword heart within The Cripple, sealed away for many years, was reignited, and a long-lost surge of heroic spirit rushed into his chest.

He immediately made a decision in his heart.

He let go of his hand and patted Quan Yun's shoulder solemnly, the excitement in his eyes gradually calming into a complex smile.

"Yun'er, well done."

After saying this, he turned and left, his gait no longer listless, and his crippled leg no longer looked so unsightly.

He walked up to the woman and left behind only one sentence.

"I am going out for a while."

The woman looked at him, saw the light reappearing in his eyes, and smiled.

"Go ahead."

The Cripple did not look back; he simply left the small courtyard where he had hidden for many years and disappeared at the end of the mountain road.

Quan Yun chased him to the doorway, watching his retreating figure.

"Grandma Si, where did Uncle Cripple go?"

"Will he come back?"

The woman known as Grandma Si stroked Quan Yun's head and looked into the distance.

"He will."

She said softly.

"He is just going to take back some things that already belonged to him."

...

Time flew by, and another three months passed.

The Cripple never returned.

Quan Yun's punches became increasingly proficient, the wind from his fists whistling, and the small pebbles in the courtyard would be swept up by the force of his strikes.

But during this time, he had little heart for practicing his punches.

Sister Yu's illness was getting worse and worse.

At first, she could barely get out of bed, move a small stool, and sit under the eaves, watching him practice with a smile.

Now, she didn't even have the strength to get out of bed.

Every day, Quan Yun could see the blood she coughed up staining the pillowcase red, her face, already devoid of color, as white as paper.

On this day, Little Yu's condition took a sharp turn for the worse; she was semi-conscious, her breathing weak, and it looked like she was about to stop breathing.

Quan Yun kept watch by the bedside, burning with anxiety.

"Sister Yu, wait for me!"

He stood up abruptly, grabbing the herb basket and the wood-chopping knife from the corner of the room.

"I'm going up the mountain right now to pick medicine for you!"

With that, he rushed out of the small courtyard without looking back, running toward the deep mountains behind the village.

Not long after he left the village.

Above Xin'an Village, auspicious clouds suddenly gathered, and rays of light shone everywhere.

A towering Flying Boat carved from white jade, with mysterious runes etched all over its hull, hovered silently above the village.

A solemn and majestic aura immediately pressed down upon the entire village.

The farmers working in the fields and the women cooking at home all stopped their work, staring blankly at the sky.

"What... what is that?"

"An Immortal! It's an Immortal!"

Someone shouted, and the entire Xin'an Village exploded into chaos.

"The Immortal is here!!!"

"The Sect selection! It's real! The Immortal really came to our village to select Disciples!"

Every household was in an uproar.

The adults dropped their hoes and turned off their stoves, running home like crazy, grabbing their children and rushing to the threshing floor at the entrance of the village.

For a time, the whole village was in complete disarray.

"Hurry! Gou Dan! Put on the new clothes Mom bought for you!"

"Er Yaya, stop crying! If you can be chosen by the Immortal, you won't have to suffer anymore in this life!"

The threshing floor was packed with people.

From the Flying Boat, several Cultivators dressed in white robes, with the air of Immortals, drifted down.

The leader was a middle-aged Daoist; his gaze swept over the dense crowd below, and his voice, though not loud, clearly reached everyone's ears.

"I am an outer Sect deacon of the Flowing Cloud Sect. Today, by the order of the Sect, I have come here to open the mountain and select Disciples. Anyone between the ages of six and twelve with a suitable bone age may come forward to try."

As soon as he finished speaking, the crowd surged forward.

The village chief, Li Gui, along with several strong men from the village, desperately maintained order, letting the children line up and come forward one by one.

A crystal-clear Spirit Stone was placed in the center of the field.

"First, Tiger."

The village chief's son, Tiger, walked up with his head held high and placed his hand on the Spirit Stone.

The stone lit up with a faint white light.

"Unqualified, next."

The deacon's voice was devoid of emotion.

Tiger's face turned pale instantly.

His father, Li Fugui, had spent a fortune hiring masters and buying medicinal baths for him, only to get an "unqualified" result?

A low murmur of laughter broke out in the crowd.

Li Gui couldn't save face; he grabbed Tiger and pulled him back, cursing in a low voice.

"Useless thing! All my money has been thrown down the drain!"

The selection continued.

"Mortal Body, unqualified."

"Mortal Body, unqualified."

"Unqualified..."

More than a dozen children went up in a row, but the light from the Spirit Stone was incredibly dim.

The parents who had spent a lot of money to raise their children had faces uglier than the next, either beating or scolding their own children.

And those children who weren't selected were all dejected, some even crying on the spot.

Just when everyone was about to despair.

"A Mortal Body with a trace of spiritual essence, not bad, qualified!"

The deacon's voice finally changed slightly.

A skinny little girl dressed in rags made the Spirit Stone light up with a clear orange glow.

The crowd erupted in cheers that sounded like a roaring sea.

The girl's parents were moved to tears of joy, kneeling on the ground and kowtowing repeatedly to the Immortal.

Some were happy, some were sad.

The selection continued.

...

Don't know how long it had been, the sun was already setting in the west.

A figure covered in blood, wearing tattered clothes, carrying a full basket of herbs, limped down from the mountain road at the entrance of the village.

It was Quan Yun.

In order to pick a rare herb from a cliff, he had slipped and fallen, and his body was covered in injuries.

But he couldn't care about the pain; he only wanted to get home quickly and brew medicine for his sister.

When he entered the village and saw the huge Flying Boat on the threshing floor, and saw the Immortals floating in the air, he was stunned.

"Immortals... have come for the selection."

His heart was pounding.

Wasn't more than a year of practicing punches for this very moment?

As long as he was chosen, he could ask for an Immortal Pill to save Sister Yu's life!

He subconsciously wanted to rush over and line up.

But he suddenly thought of something, and his steps stopped.

He looked down at the full basket on his back, the herbs he had exchanged for his own injuries.

Sister Yu was still waiting for him in bed.

Waiting for him to go back and save her life.

Lining up, selection, he didn't know how long it would take.

What if... what if by the time he finished, his sister had already...

Quan Yun didn't dare to think any further.

On one side was the Immortal destiny he had dreamed of, a chance to ascend to the heavens in one step.

On the other side was his sister, critically ill and dying, waiting for him to save her.

He was in a dilemma.

The boy stood there, looking from afar at the noise and glory, and then turned back to look at the lonely, dilapidated small courtyard at the end of the village in the setting sun.

Finally, he made a decision in his heart.

Wasn't the original intention of his practicing punches to save his sister? If he even forgot this, then even if he became an Immortal, what the hell would be the use?

His thoughts were suddenly clear, just as fearless and regretless as his punches.

Quan Yun gritted his teeth, stopped looking at the commotion over there, turned around, and with the heavy herb basket on his back, walked toward the end of the village without a word.

His back was stretched long in the setting sun, revealing a sense of loneliness, completely out of place with the noise not far away.

During this time, some villagers noticed him, but only cast a look of disdain.

Right now, what could be more important than one's own Immortal destiny?

Just as Quan Yun was about to turn into the small alley.

"This Little Brother, why don't you come and try?"

A clear and sweet voice sounded from the side of the Immortals.

Quan Yun paused and turned his head.

He saw a young girl of about fourteen or fifteen, wearing a light pink gauze dress, standing under the Flying Boat, looking at him curiously.

The girl had snow-white skin, delicate features, and an ethereal temperament, not like a person from the mortal world.

Quan Yun looked at her, then looked at his own disheveled, injured state, shook his head, and revealed a bitter smile.

"No, I know I have dull talent; going would be a waste of time."

He paused, his voice carrying a fatigue he hadn't even noticed himself.

"I have more important things to do, thank you, sister."

With that, he didn't stay any longer and turned into the dark alley.

The young girl watched his lonely retreating figure, her willow-leaf eyebrows slightly furrowed, seemingly puzzled, but she didn't ask any more questions.

...

Returning to the dilapidated courtyard, Grandma was not there.

Quan Yun could only clumsily build a fire and brew the medicine by himself.

Surrounded by smoke and fire, he was choked to tears, and his hands were blistered.

The medicine was finally brewed.

He carefully carried it to the bedside and fed it to Little Yu, spoonful by spoonful.

But after a bowl of black medicine was poured down, Little Yu's illness showed no improvement; instead, she coughed even more violently.

"Cough, cough..." Little Yu struggled to open her eyes and asked weakly, "Yun... Yun'er... why is the village... so noisy today?"

Quan Yun's heart ached, and he forced himself not to cry, replying casually.

"Nothing much, Er Niu's family is getting married, it's lively."

He couldn't let his sister know that he had thrown away his Immortal destiny for her sake.

After soothing Little Yu to sleep, Quan Yun walked out.

Watching his sister's condition worsen day by day, a huge sense of powerlessness swept over him.

At this moment, the village had returned to its usual tranquility.

The people from the Sect had left, and the selection was over.

Those who were chosen left with the Immortals.

Those who weren't chosen also went home.

The threshing floor was empty, as if the noise just now had been just a dream.

Anger and unwillingness surged into his heart, and finally, all of it was poured into his fist.

"Ah!!!"

Quan Yun roared to the sky and, facing the empty space in the courtyard, fiercely threw a punch!

This punch was the strongest punch he had ever thrown to date!

The wind from the punch exploded, whipping up dust all over the sky, leaving a clear fist mark on the ground of the courtyard!

After throwing the punch, the stuffiness in Quan Yun's heart was finally vented a little.

He panted heavily, standing there, completely exhausted.

Just then, that familiar, clear, and sweet voice sounded leisurely behind him.

"Little Brother, this punch of yours..."

Quan Yun turned around abruptly.

At the courtyard gate, the young girl in the pink dress, who should have left with the Immortal boat long ago, was standing there, her bright eyes looking at him.

"Is really not simple."