I Have the Martial Arts Heavenly Eye in the Storm Riders

Deep within the ancestral homeland of the Wu family.

In the dim light, a member of the martial arts family stood outside the secret chamber, clasped his hands in a fist salute, and whispered:

"Master, news has come from the outside world. Duan Lang has issued a wide invitation to heroes from all over the world to gather at Mount Tai. He has also spread rumors that the Outer Heavens possess the secret to immortality."

From within the secret chamber came Wu Wudi's calm and cold voice:

"Understood, you may leave."

"yes!"

The martial arts disciple dared not linger and immediately bowed and withdrew.

The secret room quickly returned to silence.

Wu Wudi never believed in or bothered with the ethereal and illusory concept of immortality.

Compared to the much-discussed Mount Tai Gathering, he was always more concerned with the Wu family itself.

The things that have trapped the Wu family for so many years are still there, like a shadow that they can't shake off or cut off.

If he cannot completely break that curse, even if immortality were truly offered to him, it would be nothing more than meaningless empty talk.

……

The Boundless Purgatory, the Red Family Fortress.

Flames rolled and the heat was scorching.

Inside the crimson stone hall, a Chi family general knelt on one knee and said in a deep voice:

"Lord, news has come from outside. Duan Lang has set up a martial arts tournament at Mount Tai and released the secret of immortality. The entire martial arts world is in turmoil."

On the high seat, Chi Jue was wearing a long robe with red patterns, and his whole body seemed to be immersed in fire, even his eyes were burning hot.

After listening, he said calmly:

"understood."

"Pass down the order: no one in Chijiabao is to move rashly, and no one is allowed to leave."

"yes!"

The guard withdrew, and the entire stone hall quickly fell silent again, with only the crackling sound of the flames.

Chi Jue slowly rose, walked to the front of the hall, and looked at the raging sea of ​​fire outside, his eyes filled with coldness.

Our ancestors led their clan into the Boundless Purgatory and established an ancestral precept that disciples and children must not leave lightly.

No matter how much trouble there is outside, it's not Chijiabao's place to get involved.

As for immortality, Chi Jue considered it more of a joke.

If Duan Lang truly possessed such a thing, why would he publicly share it with the world?

At the foot of Mount Tai lies the ancient town of Tai'an.

The once tranquil town is now packed with people from the martial arts world.

Heroes from all corners of the country flocked in like a swarm of locusts crossing a river. The inn was fully booked half a month in advance, and even the woodshed and stable were rented out at high prices.

Everywhere you look, there are wandering swordsmen with knives and swords at their sides. Some are drinking and bragging, some are drawing their swords at the slightest provocation, and most are craning their necks to look around with curiosity on their faces—is the "immortality" that the Heavenly Realm speaks of really true or false?

Amidst the surging crowd, two figures, one tall and one short, stood out conspicuously.

The man at the head of the group was wearing a dark cloak, with a tall and imposing figure and a cold and stern face like a block of ice that had stood for a thousand years.

He did nothing, he just walked forward, and the crowd around him automatically parted to both sides—

It wasn't that they made way for him; they were forced back by his aura.

A few clueless thugs tried to get close to him, but after taking only three steps, they felt a chill run down their spines, as if they were being watched by something. They quickly retreated, not daring to breathe.

Beside him was a boy of about twelve or thirteen years old.

With sharp eyebrows and bright eyes, exuding a commanding presence, he was young yet walked with a steady gait and his breathing was deep and even.

He's clearly a highly skilled martial artist with deep training.

Bu Jingyun and Bu Tian, ​​father and son, wandered through this bustling ancient town, looking for a quiet place to stay.

"Dad, there are so many people in this town." Bu Tian looked around, his eyes filled with undisguised youthful curiosity.

"This is the first time I've ever seen so many people from the martial arts world crammed together."

Bu Jingyun remained silent.

Bu Tian was already used to it.

That's the kind of person my father is; he'll never say a word more than necessary if he can resolve things with silence.

He chuckled and continued following.

"call--"

Just then, a sharp whooshing sound came from the side.

A dark figure emerged from the woods beside the road like a ghost, moving with incredible speed, and in the blink of an eye, it stood in front of the father and son.

Bu Jingyun paused slightly, but didn't even lift his eyelids.

Bu Tianxia subconsciously lowered his body, his fingers slightly curled, and his true energy had already gathered in his palm—

Then he noticed that his father hadn't moved at all, and he immediately stopped.

If Dad doesn't move, it means there's no danger.

"Master Bu, how have you been?"

The newcomer was emaciated and had an extremely ugly face.

His facial features looked as if they had been crushed and then put back together, with crisscrossing scars that could frighten a child at first glance, but his eyes were sharp and piercing, exuding a chilling sharpness.

"It's you."

Bu Jingyun spoke calmly, uttering only two words.

Bu Tian secretly glanced at the gaunt man and was almost startled by his face—

This person looks terrifying, his face is covered in scars like a centipede, but he is extremely respectful to my father.

Ghost Tiger bowed respectfully.

"My master knows that Master Bu has arrived at Mount Tai, and has specially ordered me to wait here. Please, Master Bu, come and have a chat."

Bu Jingyun nodded slightly: "Lead the way."

Ghost Tiger's figure blurred, turning into a fleeting shadow as it sped away from the town.

Bu Jingyun followed closely behind with Bu Tian, ​​seemingly strolling leisurely, but their speed was astonishing, and they crossed the entire bustling city in just a few leaps.

Bu Tian followed closely behind his father, secretly astonished—this scarred Ghost Tiger's lightness skill was ridiculously fast; even when he used all his strength, he could barely keep up and was almost left behind several times.

Looking at that ugly face, I thought he was some lowlife, but I never expected his lightness skill to be so terrifying.

After passing through the bustling city, the three arrived at a quiet bamboo forest outside the town.

"Squeak—squeak—"

A long, desolate erhu melody drifted over on the wind.

The music was mournful and plaintive, like weeping and lamenting, and it inexplicably made one's heart ache.

Bu Tian had never heard this kind of music before.

Even though there are no lyrics, it's like telling a very long story, about heroes, about old age, about the regrets that have nowhere to go in this world.

Deep in the bamboo forest, in a simple bamboo pavilion.

A middle-aged man dressed in a blue robe sat on a stone bench, playing the erhu with a focused expression.

He had a refined and scholarly appearance, and a detached and indifferent temperament. He seemed to have grown into the surrounding bamboo forest, transcending worldly affairs and untouched by worldly dust.

Standing beside him was a handsome young man named Asong, who kept his eyes down and remained perfectly proper.

Bu Jingyun stopped and quietly looked at the figure in the pavilion.

It's been more than ten years since we last met.

Time seemed to have left no trace on that man's face; instead, it made his aura even more unfathomable.

Like a bottomless sea, its surface is calm, but beneath it lies a power capable of overturning heaven and earth.

The music stopped abruptly before it was finished.

Wuming put down his erhu, raised his head, and looked at Bu Jingyun with a gentle gaze.

"Master."

Bu Jingyun stepped forward and bowed in greeting.

The word "Master" that came out of his mouth was still cold and hard, but those who knew him could tell it was true—

These two words contain something that is hard for others to see in him: respect.

"Jingyun, you've arrived." Wuming smiled calmly, his gaze sweeping over Bu Jingyun for a moment, a hint of approval flashing in his eyes.

"It's been more than ten years since I last saw you. It seems your martial arts skills have reached a new level."

"Now his aura is restrained, and his sharpness is hidden—good, the Jingyun of yesteryear is no longer the same."

"Master, you flatter me." Bu Jingyun's expression remained unchanged.

Wuming's gaze then shifted to the boy beside Bu Jingyun.

"And this is...?"

"My son, Bu Tian." Bu Jingyun said succinctly, glancing at Bu Tian sideways.

"Tian'er, come and greet your master."

Bu Tian immediately stepped forward, knelt down respectfully, and kowtowed:

"Grand-disciple Butian pays respects to his master!"

"Good boy, get up."

Wuming gently lifted Bu Tian up with a soft force.

He scrutinized Bu Tian from head to toe, growing more and more satisfied with him, his eyes filled with admiration for his talent.

"With extraordinary bone structure, profound foundation, and piercing eyes... he is indeed a fine prospect."

"Child, would you like to learn swordsmanship from me?"

In the martial arts world, these words would be enough to make countless people kneel and queue up for a spot—

A martial arts legend personally accepting disciples—a blessing earned over many lifetimes.

However, Bu Tian straightened his expression and bowed respectfully, saying:

"I am deeply grateful for my master's kindness, but I already have a master. My master's kindness to me is as heavy as a mountain, and I dare not seek another place."

When he said this, the boy's back was straight, and his tone was sincere but without the slightest hesitation.

"Oh?"

Wuming paused slightly, then turned to look at Bu Jingyun, his eyes filled with curiosity.

He knows Bu Jingyun too well—

This person is naturally arrogant and haughty, and ordinary experts are simply not worthy of his attention.

The person who would entrust his only son to him must be no ordinary person.

"Jingyun, given your personality, how could you entrust your child to someone else?" Wuming asked with interest.

"Who exactly is this child's master, this highly skilled individual?"

Bu Jingyun was silent for a moment, as if recalling something.

"Tian'er's master is Jiang Chen."

"Jiang Chen?" Wuming's expression changed.

It wasn't surprise, but a very complex expression—

It was like hearing a name I had heard of before but never fully understood.

Bu Jingyun nodded slightly and said something that might sound like a fantasy to others:

"Several months ago, Tian'er was assassinated, her heart meridians were shattered, and she is... dead."

This sentence was like a pebble thrown into a calm lake.

Ghost Tiger and Ah Song both gasped in shock.

Bu Tian stood right there, full of energy and vitality—

The person is dead?

What is this in front of me...?

"Fortunately, Senior Jiang intervened." Bu Jingyun glanced at Bu Tian, ​​a rare hint of tenderness flashing in his usually cold and hard gaze.

"The senior used extraordinary abilities to reverse Yin and Yang, and pulled Tian'er back from the brink of death."

"Later, seeing that Tian'er had good potential, he took him under his wing and taught him divine skills."

As Bu Tian listened to his father recount this past event, he unconsciously clenched his fists.

He couldn't remember much about what happened after his death, only that his master gave him his life and taught him kung fu.

Father never mentions these things, but he knows in his heart that without Jiang Chen, he wouldn't be who he is today.

"Bringing the dead back to life..."

Wuming muttered to himself, a rare look of shock appearing on his usually calm face.

Throughout his life, he roamed the martial arts world and witnessed countless extraordinary skills and techniques, but he had never heard of any martial art that could bring the dead back to life.

This is no longer within the realm of martial arts—it is a miracle.