Covering the Sky: I Prove the Great Dao Through the Gate of Immortality

The air in Tokyo seemed to freeze when Li Chenzhou stepped onto this land.

He walked steadily, his gaze sweeping across the steel jungle, his heart devoid of joy or sorrow.

He had no goodwill toward this ethnic group, and the boxers in this region should become his training ground.

This tiny island nation, inheriting the legacy of China and also borrowing techniques from other nations, has eventually developed its own methods of warfare, which can be called its "national art."

Karate, Judo, Kendo, Aikido, Kickboxing, Ninjutsu, Shaolin Kung Fu, Sumo... there are many different styles, just like Tai Chi, Xingyi, and Bagua in China, each with its own distinct style.

If you carefully trace their origins, more than half of them come from the land of China.

Karate, as it is called, originated from Tang Shou and Japanese Shaolin, and is nothing more than the ancient martial arts of Mount Song.

This nation is inherently twisted and contradictory, as despicable as maggots, and prefers to cling to the shadows.

Yet, in dire straits, they can unleash an almost pathological kind of "endurance."

Chinese sages have long ago dissected the deep-seated flaws of this nation:

"The Japanese are fearful of power but lack virtue; they possess petty courtesy but lack a sense of righteousness!"

This statement hits the nail on the head! On the surface, they are polite and orderly, but in reality, they bully the weak and fear the strong. Their so-called "forbearance" often turns into utter cowardice in the face of absolute power.

At that moment, a newspaper was handed to Li Chenzhou, the ink still wet.

The bold, black title is sharp and incisive.

"Iga Gen, the number one fighter in actual combat, is a coward who avoids battle! A disgrace to martial arts! A disgrace to the nation's martial arts!"

Li Chenzhou slightly raised his eyelids. This Iga Gen had truly mastered the Japanese people's "patience" to the fullest extent, to the point that it was ingrained in his very bones.

Upon closer examination, it makes sense.

Who is Li Chenzhou?

With overwhelming power, he descended upon the martial arts world of Japan, having conquered Southeast Asia, been invincible in Hong Kong, and killed Liu Yuanfei, Zhao Guangrong, and Yan Yuanyi with his fists.

They specifically named and targeted Iga Gen, who was known as "the best in actual combat".

This was a perfectly legitimate challenge, and also the perfect opportunity for Gen Iga to wash away the false title of "number one" and vindicate Japanese martial arts.

The results of it?

Coward!

"Sir," the messenger said excitedly, "Iga Gen has shut himself away from visitors and is hiding in seclusion. The entire martial arts world in Japan is in an uproar. Talk shows are flying everywhere, and people are talking about it all over the streets. Iga Gen has become the target of everyone's scorn."

Li Chenzhou made no attempt to conceal his whereabouts, which earned him many "die-hard fans," and this person was one of them.

The news ignited the entire Japanese peninsula.

In the heart of Tokyo, inside and outside the Budokan, the noise was so loud it almost seemed to lift the roof off.

The young disciples who once regarded Gen Iga as the benchmark of martial arts were now red-faced and spitting as they spoke:

"Coward! Iga Gen is a disgrace to the Empire!"

"What 'first in actual combat'? You don't even have the courage to accept a challenge; you're a traitor to the samurai code!"

"He made all martial artists in Japan lose face! He should commit seppuku! He should atone for his sins!"

The roars were furious, and a collective anger, almost hysterical, permeated the air.

Newspapers, magazines, television—all media outlets were lashing out at Iga Gen's "cowardice," nailing him to the pillar of national shame.

The public's emotions were thoroughly stirred up, as if Iga Gen's avoidance of war was a betrayal of the entire Yamato people, causing them to lose face in the face of a powerful enemy.

The deep-seated traits of a morbid worship of the strong and an extreme sensitivity to one's own honor were laid bare at this moment.

Li Chenzhou stood quietly by the window, overlooking the city.

He could feel the surging public opinion and the overwhelming indignation.

However, what lies beneath this indignation?

Is it genuine courage or a deeper form of cowardice?

The ancients had long foreseen this:

The people of this island nation are like cherry blossoms, vibrant in their prime, withering in their decline; their courage is often superficial, dependent on the frenzy of the group. When things are going well, they are like wolves and tigers, their arrogance boundless; but once they encounter a truly formidable enemy, their inherent cunning and forbearance will prevail.

The saying "better to be broken than to fall" is often only displayed when there is no other way to retreat, or when one is certain that one can crush the opponent.

The vehement condemnation of Iga Gen at this moment is nothing more than a projection of their own fears.

It is a transfer of fear of Li Chenzhou onto the "coward" who dares not step forward.

This is a way to vent the unsuppressed violence stemming from weakness.

Faced with absolute power, the so-called "Bushido" spirit is sometimes nothing more than sophisticated selfishness.

Li Chenzhou's fingertips twitched slightly, and the newspaper fluttered down.

His mind was as clear as a mirror.

Is Iga Genzo hiding?

How long can they hide?

Li Chenzhou's fists, if they were meant to strike someone, would find them even if they hid deep underground in the Imperial Palace, and he would dig three feet into the ground to blast them out.

No mountains can stand in our way!

Under the eaves of each dojo, Iga Gen stood as still as a withered pine tree, unmoved as a mountain.

He shut out the hustle and bustle and insults of Tokyo with a wooden door.

How could he not know about the monstrous waves raging outside?

The newspaper headlines were scathing, the jeers and curses inside the martial arts dojo were deafening, and the vicious curses from the people on the streets were overwhelming…

Traitor, coward, a stain on the samurai code...

He was thrust into the spotlight, and all sorts of infamy lashed out at him, the "number one in practical experience."

He understood that feeling.

He could even understand the deep-seated sense of shame that belonged to the entire nation.

"If the roles were reversed..." Iga Gen lowered his gaze and murmured to himself, "If a Japanese martial artist, with the momentum to sweep across the islands, were to set foot on the land of China and challenge one of the people, and that person were to cower and not come out... the people of that country would probably be ten times, a hundred times, more furious than the Japanese are today! They would dig up their ancestors' graves and curse them for eighteen generations, but that would not be enough to quell their hatred."

The spirit of a nation is sometimes like cherry blossoms, brilliant yet fragile, and cannot tolerate the slightest blemish.

At this moment, in the eyes of the people, Iga Gen was the sinner who had tainted the cherry blossoms and the spirit of Bushido.

However, the body sitting there remained completely still.

The nation was outraged, but it could not sway their resolve in the slightest.

Go out? Or fight?

That's tantamount to sending someone to their death!

Deep within Iga Gen's eyes lay an unprecedented clarity.

He slowly closed his eyes, his mind becoming completely still.

"Martial arts..."

These two words exploded in his heart, stirring up a thousand waves.

"I have given my entire life to this." The silent cry echoed in his soul.

"I will not marry, nor have children, severing all worldly ties and desires; I will not indulge in alcohol or pleasure, rejecting all external distractions. I will tread carefully, with trepidation, for fear of wasting even the slightest bit of energy, because..."

"The human body is made of flesh and blood, and its energy is finite, while the pinnacle of martial arts is virtually limitless!"

"To fight the infinite with the finite is like an ant climbing a sacred mountain. Only by being constantly vigilant and focused, tempering and refining every bit of energy and spirit, and using it on the blade, can one have a slim chance."

His life was an ultimate management of "limited" resources and a solitary pilgrimage to the "infinite" realm. Every inch of his muscles, bones, and skin was tempered, and every subtle control of the flow of qi and blood was achieved, all of which consumed countless efforts and time of his life.

"Now, I am Dan Jin, and looking at the world, there are only thirty of us. I seem to have glimpsed a ray of light..."