# Chapter 110: Unique Beauty
"When will the Hongmeng Space open?" Jiang Wang asked.
Zhen the Invincible pursed his lips. "Didn't we just say the Taixu Illusory Realm would take at least a hundred years to surface? Who can say anything for certain about the exact time?"
Jiang Wang nodded thoughtfully.
Perhaps, to those on certain shores of power, the Taixu Illusory Realm was no secret at all. The ignorance of humanity so often stemmed only from the lowness of the ground on which one stood.
Just as ordinary mortals who had never transcended could likely never learn the true secrets of the fierce beasts.
And all he needed to do was grow strong—grow strong as fast as he could. To greet a future of unbounded breadth, pregnant with countless opportunities yet inevitably thronged with countless trials!
"Brother Solitary, we'll be friends from here on out, won't we?"
The fat Zhen tried to sling an arm over his shoulder, but Jiang Wang slipped easily out of reach.
"Brother Zhen, if you have something to say, by all means speak plainly."
"Heh heh heh." Zhen the Invincible laughed slyly and said, "I just dueled swords with you, and used the Chongxuan clan's secret art while I was at it. When you run into others in the future, don't spread that around."
So he came from a family surnamed Chongxuan—a clan that seemed to command no small renown. Jiang Wang turned this over in his mind.
In truth, when he revisited those battles during his study, he had long since noticed that the supposed "heavy-water shield" was nothing but an illusion. Zhen the Invincible's secret art did not condense heavy water at all—it could lay gravity upon Dao arts themselves!
Take the water shield of that first battle, or the fireball he had used to kill in that second.
A secret art this formidable made perfect sense as the fame-making foundation of some clan.
"If Brother Zhen would rather I keep silent, then of course I shall not be talkative." Jiang Wang said. "But you must spar with me a few more rounds."
Delight flashed across Zhen the Invincible's face, only to curdle at once into misery. He could not resist advising: "What's the point of ruling the roost at the Wandering-Meridian Realm? What matters most in this realm is the Three Energies Perfection—a firm foundation for the road of the Dao ahead. Dao arts are but the means to guard the path; the path itself is the core."
"You speak truly. But I will not listen to you."
"..." The fat man's face twitched. "Even if you beat me, you still won't rule the roost at the Wandering-Meridian Realm. I haven't even cracked the top hundred myself."
"Beating you is enough."
"Brother Solitary's taste for vengeance truly runs deep..."
"Brother Zhen." Jiang Wang said gravely. "You've already shown your hand before me, after all—so you can wield your secret art without a shred of restraint. Not like fighting others, where you have to keep hiding it and feel all cramped and unsatisfied. What harm is one more sparring partner like me?"
...
Thus began the long string of battles between Solitary the Invincible and Zhen the Invincible within the Taixu Illusory Realm. And out in the real world, the waters were far from still.
Closer to home, Li Jianqiu was rising in fame at the Prefecture Dao Academy, near enough the brightest figure among the new batch of disciples. His battle system was laid bare and dissected before all eyes—it turned out he majorly cultivated the Dao-sword arts. Maple Forest City Dao Academy had no such art to pass on, so where he had learned it, no one could say.
Nor was "Wang of the One Blow" the least bit idle: propped up by his fame, Maple Forest City Dao Academy's name climbed ever higher.
As far as the common folk of Maple Forest City were concerned, though, they held Wang Changxiang closer to their hearts. Li Jianqiu had always been low-key, and once he entered the Prefecture Dao Academy he threw himself into bitter cultivation, day and night. With no attachments left in Maple Forest City, he had hardly returned even once.
Wang Changxiang, by contrast, went back to his clan now and again to look in on them, and was warmly welcomed by all the townsfolk.
Farther afield, the heretic overlord Ouyang Lie had reappeared in the human world. Bearing the Phantom Image of the Gate of Ghosts, he bore down upon Cloud City, defeating one deliberating elder after another in succession, his murderous aura towering—he declared he would take Cloud City in hand, and that any who refused would die.
It was then that Ye Lingxiao, master of the Lingxiao Pavilion, broke through his seclusion in overwhelming force and crushed him, sending the man fleeing gravely wounded.
Now the entire Yun Kingdom was under martial lockdown, hunting Ouyang Lie and his troop of disciples and grandchildren through every corner.
Ouyang Lie bore another title besides: Head Elder of the White Bone Path.
That heretical cult, which in the history of the age had come close to toppling the Zhuang Kingdom and had committed countess crimes, now seemed poised to rise again from its ashes—so that every man went in fear for his own safety.
Then someone dragged up fresh accusations: the annihilation of Little Grove Town in the Maple Forest City region of Qinghe Commandery of the Zhuang Kingdom had been wrought under the instigation of the White Bone Path's demon-folk, and it was during that massacre-sacrifice that Ouyang Lie had condensed the Phantom Image of the Gate of Ghosts he now flaunted across the Yun Kingdom. And Wei Quji, to cover up his own negligence, had hushed up the situation of the White Bone Path, giving its minions room to expand their gains.
At this news, the whole kingdom erupted in an uproar. After Zhu Weiwu had made his name known across the land, the Maple Forest City region once again became the eye of the storm—except this time, the fame it garnered was utterly different.
Afterward, Wei Quji, in his very position as city lord, personally submitted a memorial of apology.
Dong A, of course, had set his name down upon that same memorial of apology as well.
...
Jiang Wang was so sunk in the battles of the Taixu Illusory Realm that he did not learn of any of this until two days later.
The other matters he could let pass. It was the tidings of the White Bone Path that made his heart leap.
He finally came to know the White Bone Path—he simply had not expected to know it in this way.
Late at night he gazed at himself in the mirror, and felt a cold dread toward the White-Bone Lotus upon his spine.
He absolutely did not acknowledge every heretic cult under heaven, nor would he ever admit to standing within one himself.
But that White-Bone Lotus, which had appeared out of nowhere, would not let him dismiss the possibility.
And the mysterious black candle within Tongtian Palace, and the Flesh-Growing Soul-Returning Art the black candle had transmitted...
All of it made Jiang Wang uneasy.
Of all this, it seemed he could only ask Bai Lian.
But Bai Lian had not shown herself for a long while now, and he had no idea where to go looking for her.
Bai Lian... Bai Lian...
The name that woman had tossed off so carelessly now furnished him with a thousand associations. He still owed Bai Lian a deed, and he dearly wished that deed would quickly end—yet at the same time, he half-hoped it would never come to pass.
From Jade Balance Peak to the banks of Qing River, he found himself once more tangled in the role he had to play. Lost and struggling.
Thankfully... there was still battle.
The all-out, death-despising battles within the Taixu Illusory Realm were his remedy.
Unfearing of life or death, releasing everything.
The growth of his martial strength was his courage.
Only by endlessly growing stronger, endlessly climbing higher, could he feel capable of resisting those things that perturbed him.
In his sparring with Zhen the Invincible, he could finally win the occasional bout.
Out of ten fights, he won one to two.
There was no help for it: a Zhen the Invincible who had fully let himself go truly could be called invincible.
The Chongxuan clan's secret art—whether the pseudo-instantaneous casting or the manipulation of gravity upon Dao arts—was monstrous beyond measure. Fighting anyone else, Zhen had to lay on disguises to keep from exposing his foundation. Against Jiang Wang he needed none of that.
The moment that fat man flipped on his pseudo-instantaneous state and hurled out a gravity-strengthened Dao art, one lapse of attention was all it took to crush Jiang Wang flat.
Jiang Wang estimated that to truly gain the upper hand in open combat, he would have to wait until the Four Spirit Body-Tempering Art was perfected, and at the same time have an instantaneous Dao art engraved within Tongtian Palace. But by then he would no longer be at the Wandering-Meridian Realm.
This was not his fault, but a gap in innate endowment between the two sides.
His Merit drained away like running water, and the fat Zhen's mouth could hardly hold his grin as he scooped it all in.
Yet the growth of combat strength was a thing without end.
When his Merit was pared down to three thousand points, Jiang Wang ran his head against a bottleneck.
The Purple Qi from the East Sword Art had reached a height beyond which it could not rise—unless he achieved some leap in his comprehension of the sword's Way. The Four Spirit Body-Tempering Art was work of grinding patience, which could not be hurried. Naturally his gaze fell upon the Dao art Dong A had handed down—the Flame Flower.
But this art was truly arduous. As a Grade C upper-class Dao art, it belonged to the tier of arts used by cultivators of the Zhou Heavenly Circulation Realm.
With Jiang Wang's Wandering-Meridian Realm cultivation, it was a stretch. Yet after the Azure Dragon chapter of the Four Spirit Body-Tempering Art, he had chosen to cultivate the Vermilion Bird chapter first precisely to hone his affinity and command over fire-element primal power, so as to master the Flame Flower ahead of time.
This was the mightiest Dao art he could command at his present stage.
Yet even with the aid of the Dao Essence Control Art, he could complete the Flame Flower's preliminary preparations, only to be stalled at the very step of "the bloom."
Jiang Wang flipped through Dong A's notes in search of the reason, and his gaze suddenly halted on a single line. He had read it many times before, but had always overlooked it, for it read like no more than a casual, passing sigh.
That line was: "Every flower bears a unique beauty."
Jiang Wang turned the words over in his mind.
Why should every flower be able to bear a unique beauty?
Because they grew naturally—and only thereby could they escape monotony.
Jiang Wang closed the notes.
He had already found where the problem lay.