I Have the Martial Arts Heavenly Eye in the Storm Riders

As dusk settles, crows return to their nests.

As dusk settled over Tianyin City, the lanterns along the streets swayed in the wind, their dim light reflecting off the snow, making it look as if it were covered with a layer of dirty copper dust.

In the simple open-air tavern, Huai Kong still sat alone.

The wine jug in front of him was already empty, and the wine in the cup was still warm. He held the cup but didn't drink a drop.

After the young man in white left, he ordered another pot of wine. The wine went from hot to cold, and then from cold to ice, but he didn't touch it.

That person is all I can think about.

The Heavenly Sin, inside the iron box, was sealed tightly by a box made of fine steel. Even a grandmaster like Master Tie Shen had to get close to it to feel the malevolent energy inside.

But the young man in white, sitting across the table, casually uttered the word "murder weapon"—

His tone was so casual, as if he were saying, "The peanuts in your bowl are pretty good."

He knew he had colleagues.

He knew his senior's temper.

He even knew Duan Lang's personality.

Having been away from Ironheart Island for so many years, Huai Kong considered himself to have seen his fair share of experts, but sitting face-to-face with that white-robed youth for a while—

He can't even remember what other people look like.

This gap is beyond what the word "expert" can describe.

Huai Kong clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms, causing a sharp pain.

It's not fear. It's unease.

He suddenly felt that the confidence he had built up all the way from Ironheart Island was as thin as a sheet of paper in front of the young man in white.

"Second Senior Brother!"

A clear, sweet voice broke the surrounding noise and interrupted Huai Kong's tossing and turning thoughts.

He looked in the direction of the sound and saw a girl dressed in white walking quickly towards him.

The girl had a beautiful face, her nose was red from the cold, and a few snowflakes still clung to her temples, but she had a smile on her lips—it was her junior sister, Bai Ling.

Behind her, a tall, handsome man strode forward, his every step causing the bluestone slabs beneath his feet to tremble slightly.

Pedestrians on the street were frightened by his reckless manner and quickly made way for him, but he didn't even glance at them, walking straight ahead with his head held high, as if the whole street belonged to him.

This man had an arrogant face, eyes like lightning, and a ferocious aura that made people's hearts tremble—he was none other than Huai Mie, the eldest disciple of Iron Heart Island.

"Big brother, junior sister, you've arrived."

Huai Kong stood up to greet him, a gentle smile on his face.

The weight on my heart has finally been lifted by half.

Bai Ling jogged over, not caring about her image, and plopped down on the bench opposite Huai Kong, patting her chest and panting as she complained:

"Second Senior Brother, you've got nothing better to do than come drinking all by yourself, making Senior Brother and I travel through the snow for two days!"

"You wouldn't believe it—the snow was knee-deep when we passed Qingfengling, and the snow water that filled my shoes still hasn't dried!"

She stretched out her foot and wiggled it; sure enough, there was still a ring of muddy snow stains clinging to her boot.

"You're walking slowly, whose fault is that?"

Huai Mie sat down with an air of authority, casually slamming the heavy bundle on his back onto the table, causing the bowls and chopsticks to jump around. An old man at the next table, who was drinking soup, was so startled that he spilled the soup all over himself.

Bai Ling glared at him:

"You can take one step as fast as I can take three. How can I compare to you?"

"Don't you know how to exercise your legs more often?"

Huai Mie didn't even glance at her. He picked up the empty wine jug in front of Huai Kong, shook it, and finding it empty, casually tossed it onto the table. He then yelled at the shopkeeper.

"Wine! Three jugs, the strongest!"

The shopkeeper shrank back and scurried away.

Bai Ling puffed out her cheeks in anger, about to retort, when Huai Kong smiled and smoothed things over:

"Junior sister, you must be tired from your journey. Have something to eat to warm yourself up."

"My brother was just in a hurry to get on his way; he didn't mean anything by it."

"When did he ever have any other intentions?"

Bai Ling pouted, but didn't say anything more. She took the plate of hot peanuts that Huai Kong handed her and popped them into her mouth one by one.

Watching the two bickering, Huai Kong felt a little relieved of the oppressive feeling in his heart.

The drinks have arrived.

Huai Mie picked up the wine pot with one hand, without even using a bowl, and took three big gulps straight from the spout. His Adam's apple bobbed up and down, and the wine dripped down the corners of his mouth. He was too lazy to wipe it, so he just wiped it casually with his sleeve.

Bai Ling wrinkled her nose:

"Senior brother, can you at least eat a little more gracefully?"

Huai Mie ignored her completely, finished his drink, wiped his mouth, and looked around the noisy tavern.

Just then, a group of businessmen at the next table started bragging, spitting as they spoke. They said things like, "The Heavenly Outer Heaven Sect Master split the mountain gate open with one palm," and "Any disciple from the Heavenly Outer Heaven is a Grandmaster"... The more they talked, the more outrageous it became.

Huai Mie listened for a few moments, then snorted coldly:

"This Tianyin City is indeed prosperous, but along the way, all I hear is how amazing the Outer Heaven is and how brilliant the Duan Sect Leader is—it's so annoying."

Bai Ling gently advised from the side, "Senior Brother, we're new here, let's not get upset over these idle words."

"Why would I get angry?" Huai Mie glanced at her sideways.

"I just find it funny. A bunch of people who don't even know which way the gate to the outer heavens faces are bragging about it as if they've seen it with their own eyes."

As he said this, he unconsciously clenched his right fist, and his knuckles made a series of soft cracking sounds.

That wasn't anger, it was excitement.

Huai Kong knew his senior brother all too well.

The more Huai Mie hears about others being stronger, the more restless he becomes.

It wasn't that he didn't believe it, but that he wanted to verify it with his own hands, with his fists.

Huai Kong remained silent for a moment before finally speaking.

"Brother, while I was waiting for you here, I ran into a strange person."

"Strange? How so?"

Huai Mie asked casually, without stopping the wine jug in his hand.

Huai Kong put down his wine glass, his tone becoming serious.

"A young man in white, whose abilities are hard to discern."

He paused, as if considering how to describe that chilling feeling.

"He not only saw through the fact that the Heavenly Sin in my iron box was a murder weapon at a glance—Brother, that box was made of iron gate and fine steel. Even Master said that you could hardly feel the Heavenly Sin's murderous aura through the box."

"But that person was sitting across from me and just said it offhand, as if he had seen it."

Bai Ling's peanuts remained suspended in mid-air, without being put into her mouth.

Huai Mie paused for a moment in his hand holding the wine pot.

"He also knows I have companions, and he knows your temper inside and out, Brother." Huai Kong looked at Huai Mie and said, word by word.

"He said that the headmaster of Tianwaitian has a very capricious temper, and if you speak rashly, brother, you might be in danger of being killed."

The tavern was noisy, and although Huai Kong's voice wasn't loud, Huai Mie and Bai Ling heard it clearly.

Bai Ling's expression changed, and she glanced at Huai Mie.

Huai Mie put down the wine pot and remained silent for two breaths.

Then--

"Ha ha ha ha!"

He burst into loud laughter, drawing stares from the surrounding diners.

A few timid ones carried their bowls and chopsticks away.

His laughter carried an uncontrollable fighting spirit and madness; Huai Mie's eyes seemed to burn with two balls of fire, revealing a fierce glint.

"What arrogance!"

"After so many years of arduous cultivation, I have long since mastered the Void-Breaking Yuan Hand technique, and I'm currently looking for an opportunity to test my self-created Seven Strike Techniques!"

"If there are truly masters in the Outer Heavens, they'll be perfect whetstones for me!"

He slammed his hand on the table, sending the wine bowl flying high. Bai Ling caught it with lightning speed, spilling wine all over her hand.

"As for Duan Lang—I'd like to see whether he kills me or I destroy him!"

Bai Ling, while flicking the liquor in her hand, lowered her voice and said:

"Senior Brother, keep your voice down!"

"This is their territory!"

"What if the people from beyond the heavens hear this—"

"So what if I heard?" Huai Mie glanced at her and sneered.

"He never hides his actions from others."

"If he's not satisfied, let him come at me."

Huai Kong held his wine glass without saying a word.

Looking at Huai Mie's arrogant face, his unease deepened.

My brother's temperament is exactly as the young man in white described; he won't listen to a single word of advice.

What worried him even more was that the young man in white was clearly not exaggerating.

Every word spoken by that kind of person probably carries weight.

This trip is likely to end badly.

To change the subject and ease the tension at the table, Huai Kong suddenly remembered something else:

"By the way, brother, I heard something else at the tavern just now."

"What news?"

"I heard that Nie Feng, the former leader of the Divine Wind Hall of the World Society, the God of Wind, has returned to the martial world," Huai Kong said in a low voice.

"Nie Feng?!"

Huai Mie's expression, which had initially held a hint of disdain, instantly changed—

It felt like someone had grabbed my neck and then suddenly released me, and my whole being lit up from the inside out.

Two beams of light shot out from those eyes, the extreme excitement a hunter feels when he spots his prey.

"Nie Feng, one of the legendary figures in the 'Storm Riders' saga?!"

He sat up abruptly, leaned forward, and slammed his hand on the table.

This time, he couldn't control his strength—

The solid wood tabletop cracked open with a "crack," and bowls and chopsticks clattered and rolled all over the table.

The diners at the next table didn't even have time to pick up their bowls before they got up and ran away.

Bai Ling quickly reached for the wine jug that had rolled to the side of the table, muttering to herself:

"This is the second table I've cracked today..."

Huai Mie didn't hear it at all.

His breathing became heavier, and his eyes gleamed, like a caged beast that had been locked up for too long finally smelling blood.

"Excellent! Very good! I've long heard that Feng and Yun are unparalleled in martial arts, legends in the martial arts world today."

"Once I retrieve the peerless sword and cure my master's illness—I must find Nie Feng and Bu Jingyun and have a fight with them!"

"Let the world see who is truly number one!"

Bai Ling rolled her eyes helplessly.

She knew her senior brother too well—

This person only has two things on his mind: fighting and finding someone stronger to fight.

Whether it's getting a peerless sword or curing his master's illness, in Huai Mie's mind, these are tasks that "must be done first, then we'll talk about the rest."

What truly gets his blood pumping is always the next opponent.

She tugged at Huai Mie's sleeve:

"Senior Brother, it's getting late. Let's find an inn to stay in."

"We still have to go up Tianshan tomorrow, can't you save your energy?"

Huai Kong also chimed in with a word of advice:

"Junior sister is right, elder brother. Let's conserve our energy and talk about it tomorrow."

Huai Mie took a deep breath, his chest bulging and then suddenly dropping, forcibly suppressing his surging fighting spirit.

"Fine." He stood up, casually slapped the broken pieces of the wine money off the table, and snorted coldly.

"Rest tonight, tomorrow morning—I'll see just how powerful Tianwaitian really is!"

The three of them got up and disappeared into the vast night.

The shopkeeper ran out with his account book, looked at the table that was split in two, and then at the few pieces of silver that were left on the table. He was on the verge of tears.

Inside the inn.

Huai Mie entered the room, threw the package into the corner, turned around and grabbed Bai Ling around the waist, pulling her onto the bed.

"Senior Brother, you... you haven't even taken your boots off!" Bai Ling blushed and slapped him.

Huai Mie didn't care about any of that. He put one arm around her waist, pulled the blanket over them with the other, and rested his chin on her head, saying in a muffled voice:

"You've had a long day, don't move, go to sleep."

Bai Ling struggled twice but couldn't break free, so she gave up, buried her face in his chest, and mumbled:

"We're going to Tianshan tomorrow, can you please not be so impulsive?"

"I don't think what my second senior brother said was just to scare people."

"Don't worry." Huai Mie tightened his arms, his voice low but firm, "With me here, no one can touch you."

Bai Ling was silent for a while, then softly hummed in agreement, her fingers unconsciously gripping his collar.

The two of them held each other like that, and soon fell into a deep sleep.

Next door, Huai Kong spent a sleepless night.

He lay on the couch, his hands behind his head, gazing at the cold moon outside the window.

The cold moonlight spilled onto the windowpane, casting crisscrossing shadows that resembled the bars of a cage.

The white-clad youth's words kept replaying in his mind.

He recalled the look in that man's eyes when he looked at the Heavenly Sin Iron Box—not surprise, not fear, but a kind of indifferent "it's nothing special" attitude.

That calmness was more despairing than any murderous aura.

He then recalled the tone of that person's voice when they mentioned Duan Lang—

It wasn't fear, but rather the casualness of an observer, as if Duan Lang was nothing more than a piece on a chessboard in his eyes.

Who exactly is this person?

Huai Kong turned over and his gaze fell on the iron box placed against the wall.

The iron box gleamed with a cold metallic luster under the moonlight, and Tianzui lay quietly inside, making no sound.

But he had a feeling that Tianzui wasn't behaving himself tonight.

"Be careful."

That phrase popped into my head again.

Huai Kong closed his eyes and exhaled deeply.

We're going up Tianshan tomorrow.

No matter what awaits him, he has to go.

Master is still waiting on Ironheart Island for the peerless sword to save his life.

Outside Tianyin City, at Shili Slope.

A long-abandoned manor, hidden among overgrown weeds and smoke.

The manor's walls had mostly collapsed, the yard was overgrown with waist-high withered grass, and thick cobwebs and years of dust hung between the broken walls.

It's clear that this place has been abandoned for at least a decade; even beggars rarely bother to come here.

But tonight is different.

The night wind howled, passing through the houses and halls, like the wailing of ghosts and wolves.

Something rustled and crawled past in the withered grass from time to time; it was either a mouse or a snake, I couldn't see clearly.

Inside the manor hall, a dozen or so half-person-high black candles were stuck in the ground, their flickering flames casting eerie shadows on the mold and cracks on the walls.

A dozen or so figures in black stood on either side like ghosts, each expressionless and motionless, their breathing barely audible.

If it weren't for the slight rise and fall of his chest, he would look no different from a dead person.

They each held a weapon—a knife, a sword, a dagger—of different shapes, but the blade of each one gleamed with the same eerie blue light.

The luster flickered under the candlelight, like the eyes of a venomous snake.

The leader, shirtless, sat cross-legged in the center of the hall.

His body was covered with countless sword marks of varying depths.

Some of the sword marks have turned white and scabbed over, indicating they are old wounds from many years ago;

Some of them still had a dark red tinge, as if they had been added not long ago.

The crisscrossing, layered structure looked as if someone had carved hundreds of cuts on his body with a sword—or as if he had carved them on himself.

Each sword mark has a different direction; some are straight, some are curved, some are short and sharp, and some are long and strange—they are not left by injuries, but by practicing swordsmanship with one's own flesh and blood.

This person is none other than the Sword Beast of the Sword Worship Manor.

A faint smell of rust filled the hall, indistinguishable between the stench of aged blood and the odor of poison.

"The Lord of Aobai Manor has decreed: retrieve the sword spirit of the peerless sword and avenge the shame of Baijian Manor."

The sword beast slowly opened its eyes.

There were no pupils in his eyes.

There was only a deathly grayness—like two dry wells, bottomless and devoid of any emotion.

It is said that in order to practice a heretical sword technique, he blinded himself and then used a secret medicine to rebuild his eyeballs. From then on, he could no longer see colors or light, but could only "see" killing intent and blood.

In his world, the only difference between the living and the dead is whether or not blood is still flowing in their bodies.

The voice was so hoarse, like the grinding of iron, that it sent chills down one's spine.

"Although Duan Lang is strong, he seized the peerless sword and even combined it with the Fire Kirin Sword."

"But ultimately, it is still flesh and blood."

He slowly raised his hand, his fingertips tracing the edge of a long, gleaming sword in front of him.

The movements were extremely light and slow, as if caressing a lover's face.

The blade gleamed with an eerie, dark blue light—it wasn't sword light, it was poison.

The entire blade of the sword was soaked in poison, reflecting a nauseating blue-green hue under the candlelight, like phosphorescence rising from a rotting corpse.

"This poison is called 'Devouring Essence Powder'."

The sword beast's voice was completely flat, as calm as if it were introducing a dish.

"It was refined by me with all my heart and soul."

"If you just scratch the skin—even if it's just a tiny cut the size of a pinhead—the poison will enter the body and wipe out all the power of even a Great Immortal, leaving him a cripple."

He withdrew his fingers, and a faint blue light clung to the tips of his ten fingers.

He glanced at it, then casually wiped it on his chest, which was covered in sword scars—

Those old scars suddenly turned a bluish hue, as if the wounds had come back to life.

But there was no sign of pain on his face.

It was as if this body, riddled with wounds, did not belong to him at all.

"We swear to kill Duan Lang! To reclaim the Sword Soul!"

The dozen or so men in black below shouted in unison.

The voices, though soft, were perfectly synchronized, conveying a chilling sense of resolve and venom.

The weapons in their hands tilted slightly forward at the same time, and the eerie blue poisonous light formed a continuous line in the darkness, like a row of venomous snakes' forked tongues about to be drawn.

The sword beast's lips slowly curved into a smile.

That wasn't a laugh.

His face, covered in sword marks, was contorted and grotesque in the candlelight, like a corpse that had been dead for many years suddenly opening its eyes.

"Duan Lang—tomorrow will be your death day."

"The sword spirit of a peerless sword belongs only to the Sword Worship Manor."

Outside the window, dark clouds obscured the moon.

Something in the withered grass was startled by the murderous aura; it rustled and fled in panic.

A bloody storm is brewing.

The next day.

As the sun rises in the east, countless rays of light pierce through the clouds and fall upon the summit of Tianshan Mountain, illuminating this sacred mountain, which is covered in snow all year round, like a crystal fairyland, holy and solemn.

The murderous intent and conspiracy at the foot of the mountain last night seemed to have never happened under this golden light.

Beyond the heavens, the martial arts arena.

The site was spacious, paved with bluestone, and banners fluttered all around, snapping in the morning breeze.

The flag is embroidered with a large character "天" (heaven), sewn with gold thread, and shines brightly in the morning sun.

At this moment, the training ground was empty—to be precise, there was only one person.

An elderly man with white hair and beard, dressed in a loose and comfortable white silk robe and cloth shoes with multiple layers of soles, was slowly practicing Tai Chi.

"Wild horses part their manes... White cranes spread their wings..."

He was muttering to himself, his voice indistinct, as if he were reciting the names of moves, or perhaps talking to himself.

The old man's movements were slow and graceful, like flowing water, and he looked weak and powerless, not much different from the old men and women who did their morning exercises in the park.

But if someone in the know were there, they would definitely break out in a cold sweat.

Because every time he raised his hand, the clouds within several feet around him seemed to be drawn by an invisible hand, moving slightly in rhythm, their gathering and dispersing in accordance with the ultimate principles of heaven and earth;

With each step, the dust beneath their feet clung together, subtly forming a yin-yang symbol on the bluestone ground.

One black and one white, connected end to end, so clear it looks like someone squatted on the ground and drew it.

His feet never left the ground more than half an inch, yet with each shift of his weight, the surrounding air emitted a barely audible "hum"—

That is the resonance produced when true qi merges with the primordial qi of heaven and earth.

This man is none other than the former powerful and ruthless leader, now known as the "mascot" of the Outer Heaven – Xiong Ba.

Since abandoning his Three-Part Returning Qi and rebuilding Tai Chi, the murderous and violent aura in his body has completely disappeared, replaced by a kind of harmonious return to simplicity.

His cultivation level not only did not decline, but became even more unfathomable than in his prime.

He was simply completely unaware of it.

Now, he is no longer the leader of the World Society who believed that those who obeyed him would prosper and those who defied him would perish; he is more like an enlightened old man in the mountains.

My greatest pleasure every day is getting up early to practice a set of boxing moves, then finding a sunny rock to sit on and bask in the sun, occasionally grumbling about how immature young people are.

"call--"

After finishing a set of punches, Xiong Ba slowly withdrew his stance, pressed his hands down lightly, and exhaled a long breath.

The breath that was exhaled solidified the instant it left his mouth, transforming into a white arrow of air that shot out with a "whoosh" several feet away, striking a metal target used for martial arts practice in front of him.

"when!"

With a crisp metallic sound, the breath actually blew a dent into the metal target.

If this were a living person, their chest would probably be blown through.

However, Xiong Ba himself was completely unaware of the situation, only feeling comfortable and refreshed.

He didn't even notice the dent on the target.

The old man stroked his white beard, gazed at the magnificent, cloud-shrouded scenery before him, and laughed heartily.

"The air on this mountain is so much better than the stagnant air of those people scheming against each other down below."

"Practicing boxing and watching the clouds in my spare time, that's what I call a comfortable life."

After saying that, he took another deep breath of the crisp mountain air, shook his head, put on an expression that said "I have seen through the vanity of the world," and resumed his starting stance.

Each move became increasingly fluid and graceful, as if he had merged with heaven and earth.

The old man practiced his boxing with a rare, contented smile on his face, completely unaware that undercurrents were surging and dangers were lurking at the foot of the Tianshan Mountains.