Chapter 143 - 142: Cleaning up the Small Fry

"A Sixth... a Sixth Turn grotto-heaven?"

Jiang Ning'an's eyes widened in surprise.

Sixth Turn! That was a terrifying existence capable of reshaping the world.

And the secret realm of this great power's grotto-heaven was about to open soon?

Jiang Ning'an could already imagine the bloodbath that would ensue.

"Wait, Master." Jiang Ning'an suddenly grew tense, asking in a panic, "Fang Can is just a boy who hasn't even reached the First Turn. What good will it do to bring him along?"

"It's naturally because of his status as someone with a superpower related to luck."

Liu Qingmeng said, "With an ability like that, he'll be blessed by the heavens wherever he goes inside that secret realm."

"I do not lack for power. All I'm missing now is a bit of good fortune."

"Then... won't Fang Can be in great danger?" Jiang Ning'an muttered under her breath.

"Don't worry, I won't force him. On this trip to the Capital City, I will explain the stakes to him and let him make the final decision."

Liu Qingmeng continued, "With his luck-based ability, he's guaranteed to gain something from this trip. He might even reach the Fourth Turn faster than you. Instead of worrying about him, you should think about yourself."

At this, Liu Qingmeng couldn't help but feel exasperated with her disciple.

'The youngest to ever walk the Heaven-Ascending Road at just seven years old? What a complete disaster.'

She had rushed forward recklessly instead of properly tempering her foundation. She hadn't even refined ten percent of her Ninth Layer foundation before jumping straight to the First Turn, gaining the weakest possible First Turn constitution.

Other Martial Artists had also reached the Ninth Layer within a year or two—she herself, for instance, had reached the Ninth Layer Realm at age six.

But they all chose to continue building their foundation, letting their bodies mature naturally and spending over a decade to properly temper their physique.

This process not only perfected the physical body but also cultivated a mindset of invincibility.

But this girl had advanced to the First Turn just for fun.

Outsiders might find it amusing and think it was impressive.

But when Liu Qingmeng came out of seclusion and heard her own disciple had walked the Heaven-Ascending Road at seven, she felt like the sky was falling. This disciple was half-ruined.

And just as she'd feared, after rapidly advancing to the Third Turn over the next decade or so, her cultivation had stagnated. The Fourth Turn was nowhere in sight.

It had been two or three years now, and she hadn't even made it halfway through the Third Turn.

'If her progress is slow, then so be it. She should have calmed down and spent another decade or so painstakingly shoring up her weak foundation.'

But instead, at this critical juncture, her disciple had gotten into puppy love???

For a Third Turn with a 500-year lifespan, considering marriage at twenty was far too early.

And her crush was none other than the eighteen-year-old Fang Can. After years of suppressed development, she was now basically robbing the cradle.

'Doesn't she see how Fang Can calls her Elder Jiang every day?'

In Liu Qingmeng's eyes, it was as if her disciple had managed to step in every single pitfall cultivation had to offer. 'What a jinx on the Martial Dao.'

What she couldn't tolerate the most was that Fang Can's talent was dozens, even hundreds of times greater than Jiang Ning'an's. Such talent couldn't be wasted by her disciple's whims.

If it were merely a matter of physical needs, that would be one thing, but falling in love was out of the question.

'If the young couple spends all day clinging to each other and making out, will they even have room for cultivation in their minds? How could they possibly focus on improving their realms?'

Therefore, Liu Qingmeng had to fulfill her duty as an elder and resolutely put a stop to this young couple's puppy love.

She wouldn't interfere later, but before the college entrance exams... ah, no, before the Third Turn of the Heaven-Ascending Road, she would restrict their meetings. If they had to meet, it would be with her, the elder, present.

In any case, all Jiang Ning'an needed to do was focus on her cultivation. As her master, Liu Qingmeng had much more to consider.

...

Inside the moving sedan chair, Fang Can sat cross-legged, his body trembling and blurring into afterimages as he practiced his Cultivation Technique.

He was cultivating earnestly, but Ye Qingshi was having a miserable time.

With the added vibrations, the sensations were several times stronger than yesterday.

After just one hour, Fang Can felt as if his legs had been soaked in water; they were completely drenched.

His ears were also subjected to bombardments of the young woman's high-pitched cries.

His mind was entirely focused inward. After this period of cultivation, Fang Can had successfully given his brain and five vital organs the ability to slide around inside his body as if on rails.

This allowed his organs to roam freely within his torso.

If he ever faced a targeted attack, he could instantly move his heart up to his throat or down into his stomach to avoid all kinds of injuries.

Amidst Ye Qingshi's screams, she collapsed to her knees, unable to get up again.

Fang Can, meanwhile, casually picked up a cloth and wiped down his soaked legs.

"Profound Gate First Layer? Not bad progress." Fang Can nodded slightly, thinking she must have pushed herself quite hard to reach this stage in just two days.

"As for phase two, we won't be doing it now."

Ye Qingshi looked up, her face as red as a peach blossom. Strands of hair stuck to her cheeks, and her eyes held a trace of allure.

"Wait for me to get back. It seems some fool who doesn't know their place is looking for trouble outside," Fang Can said, a hint of impatience in his eyes.

'The team's strength is still a bit lacking right now. Besides me, the other Heart Image Martial Artists combined can't even beat someone in the top thousand of the Crouching Dragon Leaderboard. There's a huge power gap.'

This meant that whenever some small-time punk came looking for a fight, he had to personally step out to deal with them.

Shoving the door open, Fang Can stepped out and saw a youth roaring manically, "Where is Fang Can? I am ranked 349th on the Crouching Dragon Leaderboard, and I've come today to spar!"

As he shouted, his God-Worshipping Band played on behind him.

Without hesitation, Fang Can strode directly in front of the youth.

"So you're Fang Can. You look pretty decent, but I wonder about your strength. So short..." the youth sneered at Fang Can.

With a flicker of annoyance, Fang Can threw a simple, unadorned punch with his right fist.

BOOM!

With a heaven-shaking roar, the challenger was utterly unable to resist. Amidst a massive cloud of dust and sand, number 349 was embedded directly into the ground by Fang Can's single punch.

He gazed at the burly youth in the four-meter-deep crater, his bones largely shattered and limbs twisted, staring blankly at the sky as if questioning his very existence.

The music from the God-Worshipping Band came to an abrupt halt. With the fall of their "god," the believers' Dao hearts began to shatter.

Looking at the pathetic figure who was no better than a dead dog, Fang Can turned and went back into the sedan chair, saying, "Hang him up. Have him paraded with the group all the way to the Capital City."

"As the god commands," Ye Yonglie and the others said in shame, sighing inwardly that their own strength was insufficient to keep up with their god's pace. Their god had to handle everything himself.

And so, for the next ten-odd days, one stripped-naked Martial Artist after another was hung from the eerie pole at the head of the procession.

Their numbers grew from the original one to the current fifty-three, every single one of them a Martial Artist from the top thousand of the Crouching Dragon Leaderboard.

Of course, compared to the eerie pole, the spectacle at the rear of the procession was even grander.

These fifty-three Martial Artists were equivalent to fifty-three divine processions.

The believers of these Martial Artists all followed behind Fang Can's group, looking as if their worlds had ended.

They shouted one after another, telling their hanging gods to rest easy, that they would find a way to rescue them soon.

Amidst this atmosphere, the Capital City was now close at hand.