One person: Starting with the Snow Drinking Blade

After a night of practice, although she had not fully mastered the first move of the Wind God Leg—her "Catching the Wind and Shadows" was still unstable, she would bump into things three out of ten times, land on the wrong foot three out of seven times, and turn too slowly twice, and she only succeeded twice—she had already begun to find that feeling of "moving with the wind."

The wind is not something you fight against, but something you cooperate with. If you go with it, it will push you forward; if you go against it, it will pull you along.

This is an extremely commendable improvement for a beginner.

"Huff...huff...so tired...but it feels so good!"

Lu Linglong plopped down on the floor, leaning against the edge of the bed, her hands behind her back, her legs stretched out. She was panting heavily, her chest heaving, but a satisfied smile graced her face. Sweat dripped from her chin, falling to the floor with a soft "plop."

She rested for a while, then picked up the book "The Cloud-Dispelling Palm" again and flipped through it.

The manual for the Cloud-Dispelling Palm was thicker than the previous two, with almost twice as many pages. She casually flipped to the middle page, which depicted a human figure pushing out with both palms, the palm wind transforming into a cloud-like stream of air that swept forward.

She stared at the picture for a few seconds, her brows furrowing slightly.

This palm technique places even greater emphasis on the application and variation of internal energy than the Wind God Leg technique. The way, angle, and timing of each strike are all carefully considered, requiring a much deeper level of cultivation as a foundation. It cannot be mastered overnight.

It will probably be difficult to get started in a short period of time.

"It's okay, we'll take it one step at a time."

Lu Linglong cheered herself up, clenching her fists, then relaxing them.

"I'll master the Wind God Leg technique first, then I'll learn the Cloud Dispelling Palm. Master said that wind and cloud complement each other, and I must learn both well!"

She stood up, walked to the window, and opened it.

The morning sun shone warmly on her face. The air was filled with the salty smell of the sea, the fishy smell of the earth, and the sweet scent of unknown wildflowers, all mingled together and blown in through the window on the wind.

On Nathan Island in the morning, the sea breeze carries a salty, fishy smell, and the distant cries of seabirds—"ga-ga—"—are heard, not loud, but very clear. People are already moving about in the market; breakfast vendors are starting fires, and smoke rises from the chimneys of their tin sheds, turning pale gray in the morning light.

A new day begins.

Lu Linglong took a deep breath. She could feel the cool air entering through her nose, down her throat, into her lungs, and then spreading throughout her body. That dormant, yet more obedient than before, power slumbered quietly within her. She could feel it there, but it was no longer bothering her.

A confident smile curled at the corners of his lips.

"Master, I will not let you down."

In the morning, in the open space behind the hotel.

The backyard was small, paved with flagstones, weeds growing in the cracks between the stones. It was surrounded by a wall, atop which grew several potted plants of unknown species, their leaves lush and green, some even bearing small red flowers. The sun shone from the southeast, casting a large shadow over the yard, with only a sliver of sunlight near the wall.

Nie Lingfeng stood in the middle of the courtyard, arms crossed. He was wearing a dark gray short-sleeved shirt today, the sleeves rolled up to his shoulders, revealing a section of his arm. The muscles on his arm were clearly defined, but not exaggerated, and his skin was a little darker than before—the sun on Nathan Island was more intense than in Beijing.

He watched Lu Linglong practicing the Wind God Leg technique and occasionally offered pointers.

"Raise your legs a little higher."

Lu Linglong lifted her leg slightly, her toes just reaching her knees.

"Higher."

She gritted her teeth and lifted her leg a few more inches, the angle between her thigh and calf exceeding ninety degrees. Her thigh muscles were taut and trembling slightly.

"Keep your back stable."

Her waist swayed, she lost her balance, and her body tilted to the left. She quickly put her legs down, readjusted her center of gravity, and then lifted them up again.

"Keep your center of gravity low."

Her knees bent, her body slumped, and she felt a burning sensation in her thighs. Less than half an hour into her morning exercise, a fine layer of sweat had already appeared on her forehead.

"Yes, yes, that's it. Hold this position and feel the direction of the wind."

Following Nie Lingfeng's instructions, Lu Linglong practiced the basic movements of the Wind God Leg again and again. Each movement had to be repeated dozens or even hundreds of times—lifting the leg, turning the body, landing, and bouncing up; lifting the leg, turning the body, landing, and bouncing up.

It was monotonous, but not boring. Because with each repetition, she could feel her body getting better.

Although her movements are still a bit clumsy—her shoulders move first when she turns and her feet deviate when she lands—she has made significant progress compared to her stumbling last night, and at least she no longer bumps into things.

Nie Lingfeng stared at her intently. His eyes weren't focused on her movements, but on her "momentum"—where her center of gravity was, where her power was generated, and where her weaknesses lay. Sometimes she would make an unnecessary movement, sometimes her power was applied in the wrong direction, and he could point it out immediately.

Zhang Chulan squatted down beside her, a piece of old wood he'd salvaged from the warehouse under his bottom. He held a baked flatbread in his hand, freshly bought from the market and still warm, sprinkled with sesame seeds. He took a bite, and as the sesame seeds fell onto his hand, he licked them off. While chewing, he watched Lu Linglong practice her martial arts, mumbling incoherently:

"Tsk tsk tsk, Brother Nie is like a completely different person after he took this apprentice."

He swallowed the biscuit in his mouth and took another bite.

"I've never seen him teach anyone so patiently before!"

Master Wang sat on a stone bench to the side.

The stone bench sat in the shade of a tree in the corner of the courtyard, cool but not cold. He had changed into a clean, dark gray robe, the sleeves wide enough to flutter in the wind. He held a cup of hot tea, freshly brought up from downstairs, still steaming. He stirred the tea leaves with the lid and said leisurely:

"Brother Nie has taken on his first disciple, so naturally he will be very attentive to him."

He blew on the steam rising from the surface of the tea and took a sip.

"Moreover, Linglong is indeed quite talented. She was able to master the Ice Heart Technique in just one night and also cultivate the Wind God Leg to this level. She is already considered a genius."

"genius?"

Zhang Chulan took another bite of the baked flatbread, chewed it a couple of times, and rolled his eyes.

"I have a feeling that her progress is inextricably linked to that drop of blood from Brother Nie?"

"Of course it's related."

Wang Ye smiled and placed the teacup on his lap.

"That drop of blood cleansed her marrow and opened her meridians, making her cultivation twice as effective with half the effort. It's like a barren land; others have to till the soil, fertilize it, and water it before they can plant anything. Her land had already been tilled, fertilized, and watered; she only needed to put the seeds in. But without her own effort and comprehension, even the best conditions would be in vain."

He gestured with his chin towards Lu Linglong.

"Look for yourself, she's been practicing since this morning, how many breaks has she taken in between?"

Zhang Chulan thought for a moment and counted on his fingers.

"It seems like... I haven't had a single break."

"Do you think an average person could do that?"

Zhang Chulan shook his head.

That makes sense.

He nodded, then sighed.

"Sigh, speaking of which, I also want to become Brother Nie's apprentice..."

"you?"

Wang Ye glanced at him sideways, raised his eyelids slightly, and curved the corners of his mouth into a slight smile.

Do you have the qualifications?

"Hey! Master Wang, I don't like hearing that! What do you mean I don't have the aptitude?"

Zhang Chulan stood up, nearly dropping the pancake from his hand, but quickly caught it with his other hand. He put his hands on his hips and held his chin high.

"I, Zhang Chulan, am at least one of the best among the younger generation, okay?!"

"Yes, yes, an outstanding individual."

Wang Ye gave a perfunctory reply, picked up his teacup, and continued drinking tea.

Zhang Chulan was about to retort when his mouth was already open—

Suddenly, a series of hurried footsteps approached.

It wasn't walking, it was running. The soles of their shoes clattered on the stone pavement, a rapid, increasingly close rhythm. The runner was in a hurry, but their steps were steady, indicating that although they were running, they weren't panicking to the point of losing control.

Wang Zhenqiu came running quickly from outside the hotel. His hair was ruffled by the wind, with stray hairs sticking to his forehead. There was no smile on his face, his lips were downturned, and there was a shallow vertical line between his eyebrows.

His expression was somewhat serious, completely devoid of his usual playful smile.

"Brother Nie! Something's happened!"

Wang Zhenqiu ran up to Nie Lingfeng, placed his hands on his knees, and bent over, catching his breath. His chest heaved, indicating that he had run all the way there.

He said, panting heavily:

"Behemoth's men have arrived!"

Nie Lingfeng frowned slightly and stopped instructing Lu Linglong. He turned to face Wang Zhenqiu. The movement was slow, but the transition from relaxation to alertness took less than a second.

Explain yourself.

Wang Zhenqiu took a deep breath, straightened up, and wiped the sweat from his forehead with his sleeve. He quickly said:

"This morning, Behemoth's fleet appeared in the waters near Nathan Island, at least five warships! Not patrol boats, but warships, equipped with large-caliber cannons. Under the pretext of 'counter-terrorism' and 'maintaining regional stability,' they forcibly landed on Nathan Island. Now, a large number of troops and cyborg soldiers have landed on the shore and are advancing into the island!"

"Cyborgs?"

Zhang Chulan was taken aback, with a piece of baked flatbread still in his mouth. He blinked twice and swallowed the flatbread.

"What is that thing?"

"Behemoth's latest research findings."

Wang Zhenqiu's expression was rather unpleasant. His brows were furrowed, his lips were pressed into a thin line, and the muscles in his jaw were slightly clenched.

"Through drugs and mechanical modifications, they transform ordinary soldiers into war machines with superhuman strength and speed. These modified humans feel no pain, are tireless, and their combat effectiveness far surpasses that of ordinary soldiers. Moreover, they are mass-produced, inexpensive, and numerous."

He paused, his voice lowering slightly.

"Not a few hundred, but thousands. The ship's cargo holds are completely full of them."

"Is Behemoth trying to forcibly take over Nathan Island?"

Wang Ye put down his teacup, his brow furrowed. He tapped his fingers lightly twice on the edge of the stone bench, the rhythm faster than usual.

"I'm afraid so."

Wang Zhenqiu nodded, his hands hanging at his sides, fists clenched.

"They're using the guise of 'counter-terrorism' to actually control Nathan Island. After all, as an independent kingdom of superhumans, Nathan Island has always been a destabilizing factor in the international superhuman community. Whoever controls Nathan Island controls a large amount of superhuman resources and intelligence channels. Whoever controls these resources will have the greatest say in the international superhuman community."

"So what do we do?"

Zhang Chulan asked, stuffing the last bite of the pancake into his mouth, chewing twice, and then swallowing.

"Should we confront them head-on?"

"No."

Nie Lingfeng shook his head. His movements were neither fast nor slow, neither large nor small.

"Behemoth is coming on strong, and they have a background in the regular army. If we clash with them head-on, we'll easily be labeled as 'terrorists,' which will put us in a very passive position internationally. What they need is an excuse, and we can't give them that excuse."

"So we're just going to watch them take over Nathan Island?"

Zhang Chulan was somewhat unwilling. He clenched his fist so tightly that his knuckles turned white.

"Of course not."