I Have the Martial Arts Heavenly Eye in the Storm Riders

Duan Lang, dressed in a red robe, sat down properly.

Sit cross-legged with your back straight and your hands naturally folded on your knees.

Facing the cliff, is the direction from which Xiao Sanxiao came.

Hearing footsteps, he merely turned his head slightly, his gaze calmly falling upon them.

There was no scrutiny, no probing, no habitual polite smile before the greeting.

Just one glance was like a glance at a distant sea of ​​clouds.

Xiao Sanxiao paused for a very brief moment at this detail.

It's shorter than the blink of an eye, so short that no one else can even tell.

But he knew it himself.

In that brief pause, several thoughts raced through his mind—

This is not rude.

This demonstrates a perfect balance in the hospitality of a host.

If you come to visit me, I will serve you tea, but I don't need to get up to greet you.

Because this is a realm beyond the heavens.

Duan Lang is the master of the Outer Heaven.

After Xiao Sanxiao finished digesting this detail, a cheerful smile returned to his lips.

He clasped his hands together, strode confidently toward the table.

"Leader of the Alliance, I've long admired you!"

His voice was clear and resonant, without the slightest hint of restraint, and full of energy.

"I'll just laugh three times; I apologize for bothering you."

"Senior Xiao has come from afar."

Duan Lang's voice was steady and calm. He raised his hand in a gesture, indicating the location opposite him.

"Please sit down."

In short, the manners were impeccable, neither too much nor too little.

Xiao Sanxiao sat down with a cheerful smile.

He plopped down cross-legged, showing no signs of the awkwardness of a first-time visitor, as if he were resting in his own backyard.

Several feet away, a maid's teapot tilted slightly.

A stream of clear tea soup gushed from the teapot, hovering in mid-air without dispersing, like a thin amber thread that traveled several meters before steadily pouring into the teacup in front of Xiao Sanxiao.

Full but not overflowing, and stopping when full.

The moment the teapot returned to its upright position, not a single drop of tea remained in the air.

Xiao Sanxiao's eyelid twitched.

Tea is poured remotely.

Using internal force to envelop the tea soup, it soared several feet into the air without spilling a single drop.

This skill may seem insignificant, but it actually demands an almost demanding level of purity and control over one's internal energy.

In the martial arts world, anyone who can do this is at least one of the best among grandmasters.

In the Outer Heavens, this is merely the way a maid pours tea.

Xiao Sanxiao picked up his teacup and took a sip.

As the tea soup enters the throat, a refreshing sweetness spreads across the back of the tongue, accompanied by a very faint and subtle pine fragrance.

He tasted it, nodded, and gently placed the teacup back on the table.

His gaze shifted from the teacup to meet Duan Lang's eyes.

The mountain wind has stopped.

The two sat facing each other across a low table.

The tea smoke rose between the two of them, forming a wisp of white mist that was blown away by the wind, then gathered again, and then dispersed once more.

Duan Lang remained silent.

Xiao Sanxiao didn't say anything.

To outsiders, this silence was merely a very brief pause in the small talk after the host and guests had taken their seats.

But only Xiao Sanxiao himself knew—

Deep within his brow, his divine consciousness, which had been dormant for four thousand years, quietly began to operate.

Silent, breathless, formless.

Like an invisible hook, following the line of eye contact, it is gently cast to the other side.

The Heart Sutra of Returning to Dreams.

People all over the world only know that Xiao Sanxiao's secret skill lies in divination and prediction.

Little did they know that he possessed this skill.

A single glance can silently pull the other person into an illusion.

A fierce battle rages in a dream, blurring the lines between reality and illusion. The clash of swords and the shadows of blades are vividly portrayed, accompanied by pain, exhaustion, and fear—all present.

It's only when you've "died" in your dream that you realize everything just happened in the blink of an eye.

Back then, even the most skilled martial artists had fallen victim to this technique, waking up covered in cold sweat and speechless for a long time.

Xiao Sanxiao never uses this technique lightly.

At this moment—it's been used.

Divine senses probed out, and illusions unfolded.

And then—nothing happened.

It's not resistance, it's not backlash.

It was a stranger feeling, one that he couldn't describe.

It was like a meticulously woven net covering a vast expanse of space.

The net fell, passed right through, without even causing a ripple.

It was as if there was no one sitting in that spot at all.

Illusions have nowhere to land.

There are no gaps to exploit, no distractions to take hold, and not a single clod of soil for illusions to take root and spread.

That realm of martial arts was perfectly round and impenetrable.

When all things come into contact with it, it is like water splashed on a mirror, naturally dissipating.

It's neither about toughing it out nor about cracking it.

It is something even more thorough than either of these—non-entity.

Xiao Sanxiao's eyebrows twitched very, very slightly.

He calmly withdrew the Dream Heart Sutra, picked up his teacup, lowered his eyes, and took another sip.

This action, from start to finish, took only two breaths.

The maid at the table noticed nothing amiss.

The young man in white continued to drink his tea quietly.

The wind was gentle and the clouds were light at the edge of the cliff; nothing had happened.

However, Xiao Sanxiao's fingers tightened slightly as he held the teacup.

The waves were very strong.

No—it's not just strong.

His martial arts realm has reached a point where even Xiao Sanxiao couldn't define it no matter how hard he tried.

The Heart Sutra of Returning to Dreams has been immune to the disease for four thousand years.

Even those so-called peerless experts of yesteryear, once they entered the illusion, the only difference was the length of time they struggled.

Whether it's three breaths or ten breaths, I've entered it after all; I've taken a trip in a dream.

But the young man in the red robe in front of us—didn't go in at all.

Illusions cannot even find a foothold in the face of his martial arts.

Invulnerable to all laws.

These four words sank heavily into Xiao Sanxiao's heart, like a piece of red-hot iron thrown into ice water, hissing as it emitted a wisp of white smoke before sinking to the deepest part.

Duan Lang withdrew his gaze.

He straightened himself towards the cliff, picked up his teacup, and took a slow, deliberate sip.

Only one thought surfaced in his mind—

That's all there is to it.

It floated for a moment, then sank back down, returning to its original calm.

The atmosphere settled down after this silent contest.

The tea smoke continued to rise in wisps, and the sea of ​​clouds below the cliff continued to surge.

Nothing has changed.

Everything has changed.

Xiao Sanxiao took another sip of tea, then turned his head and looked at the white-clad youth who had been quietly drinking tea to the side.

The aura emanating from this young man in white was far too strange—

When it moves, it is like a bottomless sea, calm and still, yet it makes people instinctively afraid to venture in.

"And this is...?"

Xiao San smiled and spoke, his gaze falling on that clear and handsome face, his tone as if he were asking a casual question.

Duan Lang raised his eyes slightly.

"My good brother, Jiang Chen."

Brothers?

Xiao Sanxiao circled around these three words.

Then everything became clear.

To be called a good brother by someone like Duan Lang—

Not subordinates, not pawns, not retainers or advisors, but good brothers standing side by side.

He cupped his hands in a gesture of respect to Jiang Chen, his expression amiable.

"Young friend Jiang, it's a pleasure to meet you."

Jiang Chen returned the greeting with a calm expression and nodded.

He didn't say much, and lowered his eyes again to look at the teacup in his hand.

Xiao Sanxiao withdrew his gaze.

He picked up the teacup, took another sip slowly, and maintained his smile as always, looking completely at ease as if he had come here specifically to ask for tea.

Several plates of tea and fruit were laid out. He casually picked up a fruit, put it in his mouth, chewed it, squinted his eyes, nodded, and looked very satisfied.

"Senior Xiao, what brings you up the mountain this time?"

Duan Lang spoke calmly and looked composed, as if he were genuinely asking a question.

Xiao Sanxiao glanced at him.

He then chuckled softly and shook his head.

"Alliance Leader Duan, your men know perfectly well whether I brought my Heart-Reflecting Mirror today or not—"

He took the gourd from his waist, casually placed it on the table, and laughed heartily.

"You think you don't know the answer yourself? Why ask such a pointless question when you already know the answer? Isn't it just a waste of time for the Alliance Leader?"

Duan Lang did not respond to that sentence.

He simply picked up the teacup without making a sound and took a sip.

Such silence, in ordinary circumstances, is considered impolite.

In Duan Lang's case, it's about attitude—

You can say whatever you want; whether I listen or not depends on my mood.

Xiao Sanxiao understood the meaning of this silence.

He wasn't in a hurry.

He brushed the snowflakes off his sleeves, his gaze gradually shifting from leisurely to serious, and his tone became noticeably more serious.

"Alright, I'll get straight to the point."

He raised his head and looked directly at Duan Lang.

"Does Alliance Leader Duan know of—the Great Calamity of a Thousand Autumns?"

The moment those four words were uttered, the mountain breeze suddenly stilled.

The tea smoke paused briefly in the moment of silence, then was dispersed by the cold wind at the edge of the cliff and silently disappeared into the clouds.

Duan Lang glanced down at the tea in his cup. The amber-colored tea surface reflected half of the sunlight and swayed slightly.

A moment later, he slowly placed the teacup back on the table.

He raised his gaze again and looked calmly at Xiao Sanxiao.

"A great calamity that will last for millennia."

He repeated those four words, neither too loudly nor too softly.

It felt like tasting a dish with an unfamiliar name.

He then spoke, his tone even more subdued than before.

"Even if there truly is some great calamity of the ages—"

"What does this have to do with me, the leader of this alliance?"

The wind picked up again at the edge of the cliff.

Xiao Sanxiao stopped chewing half of the fruit in his hand.

He paused for a moment.

He immediately suppressed his smile, leaned forward slightly, and his tone unconsciously became serious.

"Alliance Leader Duan, this matter is of utmost importance."

He raised his eyes, looked directly at the other person, and spoke clearly, each word distinct.

"The Great Calamity of a Thousand Years is a massive invasion of China by Japan, which is the culmination of hundreds of years of accumulated power."

"In my entire life of divination and fortune-telling, I have never seen a more ominous divination than this one."

He paused.

"At that time, the Japanese army will be so powerful that it will darken the sky, and the martial arts world, the imperial court, and the common people will all be ravaged by disaster—it is no exaggeration to say that countless lives will be lost."

After he finished speaking, there was a moment of silence at the edge of the cliff.

Duan Lang did not respond immediately.

His expression remained unchanged, as composed as if he were listening to someone recount an old news story unrelated to himself.

The sea of ​​clouds surged beneath his feet, and the wind swept across the cliff face, lifting the hem of his red robe and making it flutter.

After a moment, he slowly spoke.

"Senior Xiao has lived for over four thousand years."

His tone was casual, without any hint of praise or criticism, as if he were stating a fact that everyone knew.

"This isn't the first time in the past four thousand years that foreign tribes have invaded the Central Plains, is it?"

Xiao Sanxiao didn't speak, but simply nodded slightly.

Duan Lang continued, his voice calm, yet every word was precise.

"What enabled each time an alien race was able to invade?"

He didn't look at Xiao Sanxiao; his gaze was fixed on the distant horizon of the sea of ​​clouds, as if he were asking and answering his own question.

"It's not because the alien race is so strong."

"It's because the martial arts world in the Central Plains fell into chaos first."

Upon hearing this, Xiao Sanxiao paused for a moment in his teacup.