Chapter Twenty-One: Enlightenment!

Jiang Feng stepped into the ring, watching as the master casually hooked his own leg around his waist, as if it were a prosthetic. Yet when he moved, there was no hindrance at all.

As the contest began, a trace of regret crept into Jiang Feng’s heart.

This master, though he had only one leg, moved with astonishing agility. His footwork was bizarre and his speed was lightning fast. Jiang Feng realized that this challenge would be far more dangerous than he had anticipated; the confidence he’d carefully built up just moments before immediately faded.

Victory was now a distant prospect.

“Ready, begin!”

At the master’s command, an uncanny silence fell over the crowd, as if they were lost in some primordial void.

Once it started, the master didn’t move, as if Jiang Feng was beneath his notice. Jiang Feng was left bewildered, unable to guess what the master was plotting this time.

After waiting for what seemed an eternity, seeing the master close his eyes as though meditating, Jiang Feng charged forward, unleashing a fierce kick. The force was considerable, the attack swift—standard, but probing.

Suddenly, Jiang Feng halted, increasing his power, trying to force the master to respond in kind.

But the master still didn’t open his eyes. Miraculously, he evaded every sneak attack with ease.

Jiang Feng chased him for a while, but soon grew disheartened. Though the master was always within reach, Jiang Feng could never catch him. The master dodged left and right, weaving and darting with effortless grace, as if sidestepping every assault was child’s play.

What frustrated Jiang Feng most was that, just as he was about to close in, the master would inexplicably vanish from his grasp.

Annoyance built within him—he was ready to give up. This wasn’t a fair fight; the master evaded endlessly, so how was he to attack? And in the master’s eyes, which suddenly snapped open, Jiang Feng saw nothing but disdain, mockery, and ridicule.

“So that’s all you’ve got? You’re still far from ready, boy. At best, you’re just a little luckier than most, stumbled upon some minor fortune and now you think you’re invincible?”

With an explosive force, the master’s massive fist crashed into Jiang Feng, felling him instantly.

It was a devastating blow.

Hatred surged inside Jiang Feng for this man—he wanted nothing more than to feed him to the dogs. But the master’s next words gave him pause.

“Boy, I’m doing this only for your brother’s sake, to teach you a lesson. I want you to grow stronger, to wake you up for your own good. Do you seek greater power? Here, take this basic martial art manual. If you reach the seventh level within a year, you’ll earn my gift. Now go. Don’t waste my time.”

With that, the master turned and left without another word.

Jiang Feng was left with no answers, only confusion.

Jiang Feng couldn’t even recall how he returned to his room; now, his face wore only a vacant, puppet-like expression, the perfect image of a marionette.

He awoke to find the manual. But his brother and master were gone.

Only after asking his father did he learn they had left, vanishing into the distance. For nearly a month, Jiang Feng drifted in a daze, feeling as if he’d lost all sense of direction and could no longer find his way home.

…

Along an ancient road, beneath a withered old tree, a black crow perched, shattering the picturesque scene of the nearby bridge and flowing water.

On the road, two figures rode a cart—one relaxed and amiable, the other upright and proper. They were Jiang Wen and the master.

“Master, why did you do that? I don’t understand.” Jiang Wen finally asked about his brother’s ordeal, unable to contain his curiosity any longer.

“What do you think of the trees on this mountain?” the master replied, ignoring the question, instead watching the scenery pass with the cart’s gentle rocking.

“I don’t know, master. Please enlighten me,” Jiang Wen answered earnestly.

“Your brother is a promising sapling, but his cultivation has advanced too quickly, and he’s grown proud and headstrong. He does as he pleases, which breeds demons in his heart. He needs careful guidance. Until now, he’s focused only on strength, not on using it wisely. If this continues, he’ll fall into a trap, chasing after power for power’s sake. The path will eventually destroy him. Just like these mountain trees: without proper guidance, their branches grow wild and tangled, and the tree itself becomes twisted and malformed.” Despite his clouded eyes, the master’s gaze shone bright.

“Thank you, master!” Jiang Wen understood the master’s good intentions, and knelt in gratitude. The master waved him off and continued toward the light.

Beneath the lingering glow of sunset, their shadows stretched long and proud.

…

After that bewildering encounter, Jiang Feng plunged into seclusion, training at dawn each day.

Though his life became orderly, an indescribable strangeness pervaded it.

“What was it all for?” Jiang Feng still did not grasp the master’s lesson, unable to understand what had happened.

His thoughts were a tangled mess.

Yet after a month of relentless, disciplined training, his cultivation grew ever stronger. At high noon, he embarked on an astonishing course of action.

Jiang Feng stood at the edge of a mountain cliff, leapt forward, and dove headfirst into the abyss.

A heavy splash echoed as his body struck the water below.

Was this the end?

Clearly not. He was preparing for rebirth, seeking to break himself down before rebuilding. To understand the master’s intentions, he would have to reflect and comprehend on his own.

To know what he lacked, he would first have to question himself.

Jiang Feng seemed possessed, like a madman, interrogating his own heart, grinding his will and spirit, striving for inner peace.

But when he plunged into the pool at the wellspring of life, enlightenment dawned.

Yes, he understood—he truly understood.

All along, Jiang Feng had thought his own fortune unique, yet the world is filled with countless prodigies. Some grew strong without any miracles, protected by fate or by others. Some faced smooth roads, ascending straight to the heavens.

The path of cultivation is rife with whirlpools, rocks, and hidden dangers; one misstep can mean wreckage, ruin, or oblivion.

Thus, one must always face the world, others, and oneself with humility.

Jiang Feng returned home, immediately took out the manual the master had left—the Fourth-Tier Martial Art, Ninefold Collapse Palm. With a single reading, he saw its brilliance and its difficulty.

In just a month, he had reached the fourth level—a modest achievement. But now, further progress was impossible without real combat and rigorous tempering.

Only through such trials could Jiang Feng truly advance.