Qi Jingchun’s immense Dharma body, pure white and ethereal, sat solemnly and imposingly upon the northernmost edge of Eastern Treasure Bottle Continent.

The churning sea of clouds rolled and surged, slowly pressing downwards, relentlessly approaching Qi Jingchun’s head.

Qi Jingchun raised his head and gazed upward, a carefree smile gracing his lips.

From above the clouds, a majestic voice echoed, “Qi Jingchun, you must understand that the Heavenly Dao is impartial! As a disciple of Confucianism, it is understandable that you feel compassion for the Li Zhu Grotto-Heaven. If you repent now, there is still time.”

Accompanying the celestial being’s words, the sound of thunder rumbled violently within the sea of clouds. Fleeting flashes of lightning pierced through from beneath the cloud layer.

Words manifested into law.

Another immortal scoffed, “Why waste words on this bookworm? If he wishes to perform such a heaven-defying feat, he must first ask if my fists will allow it!”

Simultaneously, a gigantic, golden palm reached down into the sea of clouds, parting the dense fog and revealing a vast opening. A beam of light descended, landing before Qi Jingchun’s Dharma body.

From the west, a Buddhist chant arose, filled with compassion. “Benefactor Qi, a moment of tranquil thought will lead you beyond the realm of the Buddha.”

Qi Jingchun replied in a deep voice, “After the Dragon Slaying Campaign, the small town was granted three thousand years of great fortune. Later generations saw talented individuals emerge, but this was no more than a means of mortgaging the future. Since this was a rule established by four Sages, and the first group of cultivators who chose to take root in Li Zhu Grotto-Heaven raised no objections, Qi Jingchun has no right to interfere. Now that the Heavenly Dao wishes to suppress this realm, let it come! I, Qi Jingchun, will simply bear this tribulation in place of the town’s people. The Heavenly Dao and its rules have not been abandoned, so why do you all hinder it?”

The immortal who had ripped open the sea of clouds guffawed. “Hahaha, Qi! Are you truly ignorant of the reason, or are you feigning foolishness?”

Without anyone noticing, Qi Jingchun had extended one hand, a hand which now clenched the bead containing the small Grotto-Heaven into a fist.

Presumably, within the palm, within the Grotto-Heaven, above the small town, a mystical scene unfolded, where the day suddenly turned into night.

At that moment, the snow-white palm protecting Li Zhu Grotto-Heaven seemed to bear an invisible assault from all directions. It crackled and hissed, white arcs of electricity constantly erupting from the back of his hand. Fragments, appearing as small as feathers but actually as large as mountains, broke off from Qi Jingchun’s hand and plummeted towards the mortal realm, vanishing into nothingness before they could reach the ground.

An immortal, seated near the opening in the sea of clouds, mocked loudly, “Insignificant Confucian, rebelling against the Great Dao! Overestimating yourself! This seat will play with you for a while!”

If one could observe from a great distance on Eastern Treasure Bottle Continent and pierce through the concealment formations jointly created by the immortals, a magnificent spectacle could be faintly seen. Within the vast opening in the sea of clouds, first, a black dot appeared, falling straight downwards. Then, a sword tip emerged, and finally, the entire form was revealed: a “pocket-sized” flying sword, roughly the length of Qi Jingchun’s Dharma body’s finger.

As the first sword appeared, the second followed closely behind, descending from another location. The third and fourth continued to emerge from the heavenly sea of clouds and plummet towards the world below, for a total of twelve flying swords.

Lined up in a single row, they hovered in the sky.

Like iron cavalry arrayed for battle, their reins were held tight, awaiting the order to charge and pierce through the enemy lines.

Above the clouds, a golden giant sat casually with his legs crossed, his enormous golden eyes wide open. His fists rested on his knees, and his right fist slowly extended an index finger and flicked it.

The first flying sword shot towards the arm of Qi Jingchun’s Dharma body that was holding the fist.

The sword’s descent was as swift as lightning, leaving behind a continuous trail of cloud.

In an instant, the flying sword pierced through Qi Jingchun’s Dharma body’s arm, stopping abruptly only inches from the ground.

Above the clouds, the golden giant rotated the index finger of his right fist slightly. The flying sword drew an arc in the air and returned to the sky, while his left hand tapped in the air, sending another flying sword, that was already hovering, hurtling downwards, piercing Qi Jingchun’s arm once more.

His two fingers rose and fell alternately.

The twelve flying swords fell straight down, arced upwards, returned to the heavens.

The repeated pattern continued, again and again.

Qi Jingchun’s arm was riddled with countless black holes from the dense barrage of flying swords, a stark contrast to the original luminous, towering Dharma body.

Qi Jingchun remained unperturbed. Seeing another wave of flying swords approaching for a new round of attacks,

Truly unrelenting.

Qi Jingchun calmly uttered four words: “Spring Breeze Pride.”

A flying sword was still aimed directly at Qi Jingchun’s arm, but before it could pierce the flesh, it veered off course, as if a pine needle blown by a gentle breeze. Not only this one, but the next eleven flying swords were turned aside, circling around Qi Jingchun’s Dharma body, following a certain trajectory, their blades trembling, poised to strike, emitting a faint hiss.

Not only that, but a wave of spring breeze permeating heaven and earth unobtrusively supported the descending sea of clouds.

The golden giant, chest bare and exuding a sense of unrestrained freedom, looked down from above, somewhat surprised as he observed that the twelve flying swords were unable to find any weakness. “Eh?” he exclaimed.

Qi Jingchun paid little attention to these sword attacks, which would be devastating to mortal cultivators. He kept his gaze focused on his clenched fist.

There’s a saying of aging pearls becoming yellowed. Li Zhu Grotto-Heaven, the bead floating in the skies of Eastern Treasure Bottle Continent, was already three thousand years old. In sixty years, in the hands of the next Sage, Ruan Qiong, the outer wall that protects the bead would shatter, like a piece of porcelain, the outer glaze flaking off. When the Heavenly Dao’s pressure arrived then, it would be unstoppable, though no one would die instantly. The townspeople would lose their afterlife, and Qi Jingchun had spent time reading Buddhist texts, even surmising a terrifying result. The town’s six thousand people would be used as “scapegoats” to bear Heavenly Wrath, and possibly enter the Western Buddha’s Hungry Ghost Path for eternity.

The military strategist and swordsmith, Ruan Qiong, as the final Sage to be seated in Li Zhu Grotto-Heaven, his duty would not be to protect the safety of the townspeople, but to ensure that no one escaped this Heavenly Dao punishment.

The golden giant roared like thunder, his voice reverberating throughout the heavens, “Some say you, Qi Jingchun, are not simple, possessing two natal characters. Besides ‘Spring,’ there is also ‘Tranquility,’ which defies the rules. Come, let me see it!”

Each time the giant said the word “Come,” he slammed his fist onto his knee once.

After three times, the sea of clouds churned violently, like boiling water in a pot.

The faint breeze at the bottom of the cloud sea, previously invisible to the naked eye, also began to waver. Light became chaotic, alternating between bright and dark.

The giant said, “You have the spring breeze, but this seat has a rain of flying swords, to give you a cold shower!”

After speaking, countless golden threads pierced through the sea of clouds and infiltrated the gentle breeze.

Compared to the giant’s body, these golden threads were like tiny embroidery needles, only a finger’s length, but their sheer density, numbering in the thousands, created a breathtaking spectacle.

Qi Jingchun still gazed at his fist. Upon hearing the words, his expression remained unchanged. He said softly, “Good rain knows its season, when spring arises.”

Around the base of the Dharma body, which sat upright, countless raindrops splashed out, each seemingly small, but as large as ponds.

Then, defying logic, these continuously appearing raindrops rushed towards the sky.

An inverted rain curtain.

All because of the poem silently recited by the Confucian Sage, Qi Jingchun.

The golden, dazzling rain of flying swords descended from above, while the spring rain curtain rose from the ground.

They collided fiercely!

The weather above grew wild, but Qi Jingchun paid no attention to it.

Around Qi Jingchun’s fist, dragons of lightning formed from thin air, striking his hand.

The lightning was colored in three ways: scarlet, violet, and snow white, seeming chaotic, yet each remained distinct, never intertwining, each forming a large net.

Fragments scattered from the Dharma body’s fist, feathers fluttering, constantly diminishing.

Qi Jingchun said softly, “Calm and Tranquil.”

Of the three-colored lightning, only the snow-white lightning suddenly stopped moving. The other two continued as normal, resulting in a scarlet bolt colliding with a white one, as a violet one binds the scarlet. The all-encompassing Heavenly net was now a confusing mess.

From the sea of clouds, an old voice rang, “There is law in both action and stillness!”

But in an instant, the three lightning nets, now chaotic, reverted to their ordered might.

Repeatedly striking the fist of Qi Jingchun’s Dharma body.

Qi Jingchun sighed softly.

“This little game has gone on long enough, Qi Jingchun. Dare you face this seat’s fist!”

A golden fist fell from the opening in the sea of clouds, aiming for Qi Jingchun’s head.

Qi Jingchun’s empty right hand rose upwards, palm up, blocking the descending fist.

Qi Jingchun’s Dharma body fell back a hundred yards, even as an uprising wind lifted the clouds a hundred yards.

It was like the heavens and earth opened up by two hundred yards.

“Again!”

The golden immortal repeatedly sent down his fist. Each blow carried the might of a thunderclap, so that any of Eastern Treasure Bottle Continent’s mountains could not survive a single strike.

Qi Jingchun’s snow-white Dharma body only raised his arm high to meet them.

At first, there was only a pit in his palm, then the hand shattered, and finally, the fist beat the arm into separate pieces.

The damage never stirred Qi Jingchun, as his focus remained on the fist clenching the bead.

From the fist to the arms and the shoulders, the Daoist talisman covered his body, and each character was the size of a room.

The elderly voice continued, “Do not remain stubborn, Qi Jingchun. If you wish, you may follow me and practice cultivation.”

Qi Jingchun turned and gazed at his punctured arm, which was covered with the talisman written by the Daoist sect leader. What a righteous act!

Qi Jingchun exhaled and replied in a deep voice, “Peaceful…”

The voice turned livid, “Qi Jingchun, you are too bold!”

The furious roar drowned out the last two words after “Peaceful” from Qi Jingchun.

High in the sky, two fingers merged to form a sword and tore through the clouds!

The blade fell, and the arm clenched on the Grotto-Heaven Bead was severed at the shoulder!

In the distance, a sigh of pity could be heard.

The Confucian Sage had gone too far.

Qi Jingchun should have never crossed the Daoist lightning pond.

The finger-sword quickly returned to the cloud sea, as if the owner was still livid, and the sword pierced the suspended fist.

Qi Jingchun pulled back his arm and protected the bead, drawing it near.

The immortal’s finger-sword pierced Qi Jingchun’s arm and the golden giant’s punch landed on Qi Jingchun’s head.

The Dharma body was now shaking.

While injured, the sleeves still flowed. The more it flowed, the more painful the sight became.

The punches continued to rain down on him, as if the immortal would not relent until the scholar was under the earth.

The Dharma body defended the town with all that was left, even the people who would call him “Mr. Qi.”

The Dharma body’s lips moved as he began to recite a poem, “The stars follow their cycles, the sun and moon follow each other, the seasons follow each other, and the yin and yang transform. Wind and rain nourish, so that all things may live…”

In the small Grotto-Heaven,

There was no one in the village school.

A Confucian scholar sat alone, but instead of silver hair at his temples, there was only white hair.

The scholar bled from his orifices and the flesh blurred.

The soul shattered, even more than a smashed vase.

The scholar smiled in bliss and quietly died.

I, Qi Jingchun, am in this world.

The world is joyous, and so am I.

In this year, Spring was late and Summer was even later.