Seeing him act so seriously, the disciples had no idea what he was looking at, and they all gathered around curiously.

On the smooth cross-section of the sword's cut, there was a pattern—it was hard to say precisely what kind of pattern, but it consisted of fine cracks forming an intricate shape. Everyone immediately recognized that it was caused by the palm strike their martial uncle had delivered moments before. The cracks at the starting point of the strike were rough and sparse, but further along, they grew increasingly dense.

The damage from the cracks was generally concentrated in the center, while the surrounding area remained mostly intact.

As they continued observing, the pattern of the cracks blurred further under the illumination of Sandal Gold Flame Energy. A gust of wind swept through, loosening a particle embedded in the cracks. Before long, the entire crack pattern crumbled in rapid succession, devolving into a hollowed-out groove.

What does this mean? The disciples turned simultaneously to stare at their martial uncle, observing the blood stains on his lips in the flickering light of the Sandal Gold Flame Energy.

Li Hongjiu reached out and touched the pit on the cross-section, his face thoughtful. Only he fully understood the meaning behind the palm strike he had delivered.

The truth was, the palm's power wasn't his own; it was the residual force left in his body by Shi Chun.

The cultivation technique he had self-created was named "Borrowed Realm," emphasizing the character 'borrow.' He excelled at borrowing strength to counter strength, which explained Shi Chun's misunderstanding that he also practiced the Bath Demon Skill.

In reality, he merely redirected the energy from Shi Chun's Demon Dispel Hand back at her in a loop.

Normally, based on his past experiences, even the force provided by Shi Chun's cultivation level should have been easy for him to complete the borrowing-and-countering maneuver.

However, this time, he encountered something abnormal—Shi Chun's palm strike didn't just end at its initial power. It continued to multiply autonomously, one becoming two, two becoming three, evolving without cease. The ever-changing nature of the strike overwhelmed his Borrowed Realm technique.

He had never encountered such an eerie palm force before. When he returned Shi Chun's strike, it carried only a portion of its original power—several spontaneously-mutated forces remained lodged in his body, and he had no time to deal with them properly. This resulted in him sustaining injuries on the spot.

Additionally, the residual power from the masked person's second strike further invaded his body without being fully neutralized.

The situation at the time was perilous; he couldn't allow the strange energy lingering in his body to continue spreading and wreaking havoc unchecked. If left unchecked, it could be life-threatening. At that critical moment, he scrambled to deploy techniques to encircle and expel the uncontrollable remnants. At that point, he had barely any ability to retaliate—anyone with even a Small Success Realm-level martial ability could have killed him.

Fortunately, he reacted quickly. By observing the opponent's perplexed expression, he managed to bluff them into retreating. Otherwise, given their resolute killing intent, his life might have ended in disgrace.

Once he gained a moment to breathe, he finally excised the remaining strange energy from his body. He intentionally preserved a fragment of its force, using it to strike a solid surface to observe its physical manifestation.

Though he had neutralized the force from both palm strikes, he had undeniably suffered internal injuries. To be precise, it was the first strike from the masked person that injured him gravely—almost killing him outright.

Being injured by someone with lower cultivation than himself—that was a first. Generally, such situations only occurred when he faced opponents with far superior realms, but he hadn't expected to find himself on the receiving end this time.

Today's experience had taught him a profound lesson on how it feels.

Perhaps this ordeal wasn't entirely a bad thing; without hardship, one cannot fully grasp genuine insight.

His fingers brushed against the uneven hollows of the stone surface as a faint smile emerged at the corners of his eyes and mouth—a smile brimming with joy from deep within his heart.

This scene bewildered the surrounding disciples, who could clearly see under the Sandal Gold light. Despite having been injured, how could their martial uncle appear genuinely happy?

Had he been struck so hard that his mind had gone awry?

Guang Haoyou hesitated but begrudgingly asked, "Martial Uncle, are you alright?"

Li Hongjiu smiled faintly, "I'm fine—better than fine."

The disciples stared at the blood stains on his lips and his exposed arm missing a sleeve, thinking about the masked person's overwhelming power. They couldn't fathom what could be "better than fine."

Guang Haoyou asked again in disbelief, "Better than fine?"

Li Hongjiu glanced at them, knowing that some truths would be difficult for them to grasp. Should he explain? How could he explain?

Even if he did explain clearly, the phrase 'secret of the technique cannot be lightly shared' held true. The difference between hearing about it and genuinely understanding it deeply in one's heart was vast.

As always, how much wisdom one could glean depended entirely on oneself. What they witnessed today might or might not aid their future understanding—it was up to them.

His gaze shifted to the raised edge of the stone surface. Reaching out, he applied force and snapped off a piece of the rock, gesturing to Guang Haoyou to turn around and face him.

Guang Haoyou hesitated, his curiosity piqued, but still complied.

Amidst the group's confusion, Li Hongjiu then struck Guang Haoyou's chest with the stone.

Thud—a muffled sound indicated the impact against bone.

Li Hongjiu grinned mischievously, asking, "How does it feel?"

Guang Haoyou winced, clutching his chest, while managing a wry smile, "It hurts a little, nothing else."

Li Hongjiu opened his palm, exposing the stone for all to see. As everyone puzzled over its purpose, his palm clenched abruptly, and with the aid of a technique, the stone crumbled into fine powder. Then, he struck Guang Haoyou's chest again—this time with the compacted mass of stone powder.

With this strike, Guang Haoyou merely swayed slightly, feeling no pain compared to before.

The wind scattered the fine powder as Li Hongjiu released it. He smiled silently, withdrew the Sandal Gold light illumination, took out a Pill, swallowed it, and left the group, walking towards the direction where the masked person had fled.

He hadn't expected that, after years of struggling with the spiritual bottleneck behind Yanbao Sect's rear mountain, today's perilous encounter would lead to his enlightenment.

The "Borrowed Realm" technique he had self-created had always faced a glaring flaw he couldn't overcome.

This flaw had been evident during his whirlwind exchange with the masked person; his flying sword repeatedly risked losing control while attacking. If the attack's power was too immense, even if it killed the opponent, the reactive force would be unbearable for his level of cultivation.

In other words, his Borrowed Realm technique sufficed against opponents whose strength was not significantly greater than his. However, when pitted against truly formidable experts with overwhelming power, the technique failed to contain their attacks, as the force was too excessive.

This problem had haunted him for years; he constantly pondered whether a solution existed.

This persistent inquiry stemmed from his belief in universal principles—there was surely a way; he simply hadn't discovered it yet.

To find the equilibrium between strength and weakness, he intentionally halted his cultivation progress, refraining from ascending to the much-desired Human Immortal Realm sought by all cultivators. This choice was explicitly made to keep his physical body in a relatively weaker state for deeper insights, as the heart and body are intrinsically connected, and strong individuals often overlook the perceptions of the weak.

Today, he finally discovered the method.

Like the hard stone striking Guang Haoyou earlier, even a modest amount of its power produced pain—that stone represented an opponent's formidable cultivation strength and attack.

When he transformed the stone into fine powder before impacting Guang Haoyou, the latter felt no pain, even under increased force. The attack itself remained the same, yet the result differed drastically—the key lay in the transformation of the stone's form.

In the past, he had reasoned along these lines but couldn't find a method to turn "stone" into "stone powder." He dismissed the idea as fanciful and unfeasible.

Today, after receiving two palm strikes from the masked person, the profound interaction of multiplication—one becoming two, two becoming three, three birthing myriad forms—inside his body gave him unparalleled sensations, leading him to sudden enlightenment: there *was* a way to transform "stone" into "stone powder."

Of course, as of now, he had merely grasped the concept. Turning it into a concrete technique would require an extended process of exploration and integration.

But for him, the key realization had been made—he had found the path. The obstacles and thorns along the road mattered little in comparison.

His heart at this moment brimmed with a satisfaction so joyous, all it lacked was a resounding shout to the heavens.

The disciples couldn't comprehend his emotions, nor could they grasp the significance of his discovery—they were thoroughly baffled.

Such mysteries were trivial branches; their immediate concern was the current situation.

A group of disciples drew nearer. Guang Haoyou asked, "Martial Uncle, who do you think the masked person might be?"

Li Hongjiu's tone grew tinged with surprise as he clicked his tongue and exclaimed, "It should be Shi Chun."

"What?!" A chorus of shocked voices erupted.

Guang Haoyou asked incredulously, "How could Shi Chun possibly possess such power?"

Li Hongjiu turned to him, posing the question, "Then what do you think of my abilities?"

"Naturally, Martial Uncle's abilities are unparalleled."

"Martial Uncle is divine. Few of the same realm could rival him."

The group responded with flattering remarks, most of which stemmed from genuine admiration. If they could attain even half of Martial Uncle's fighting prowess, they'd consider it beyond their wildest dreams.

Li Hongjiu turned and faced them, teasing, "Then why do you assume my abilities can stand out but not Shi Chun's—or anyone else's? Do you think your reasoning holds up? A true cultivator must not grow complacent."

The disciples exchanged glances, some chuckling wryly. "Martial Uncle, with such words, what can we even say? Still, it's hard for me to envision Shi Chun possessing such terrifying power."

Li Hongjiu lifted his gaze towards the dimly lit sky where faint stars glimmered amid the haze, muttering to himself, "His abilities are indeed extraordinary—they can't possibly originate from an obscure lineage. Someone as high-profile as him should've been recognized by others long ago. The Land of Exile… could there be a chance to investigate it?"

This remark startled the disciples, thinking he must be joking. The Land of Exile wasn't somewhere one could just decide to visit. It was reserved for the most heinous criminals, stripped of their cultivation and left to rot.

Reason dictated that none would willingly endure such misery, yet their martial uncle's unpredictability left them uncertain—who knew what eccentric ventures he might embark on? After all, hadn't he dived headfirst into the dangers of the Wuming Forbidden Land?

Guang Haoyou hastily redirected the conversation, "Martial Uncle, if it truly is Shi Chun, how would you make him surrender the secret technique to find the Divine Fire?"

"Sweet words won't work. Naturally, I'd beat him until he handed it over. With so many helpers by my side, what's there to worry about?"

Li Hongjiu spoke lightheartedly, glancing towards the group's origin, where a cluster of shadowy figures was approaching swiftly.

There were too many for them to be anyone else besides members of various sects.

A cautious and stealthy crowd closed in, their unease palpable upon spotting the Yanbao Sect group. They quickly accelerated their approach, revealing members of various sects who had gathered here.

Among them was Wu Shanshan, who—while missing an arm and appearing pitiful—still epitomized Forget Love Valley's ruthless vibe. Her expression of deep-seated resentment seemed impossible to resolve.

Zuo Zisheng was the first to rush forward and inquire, "Mr. Li, earlier, the lightning here was so bright, it felt like dawn. What happened?"

Li Hongjiu blinked a few times and casually replied, "No idea. We followed the light here as well."

Everyone stared at his sleeveless arm and blood-streaked lips. Looking this disheveled, he claimed he saw nothing?

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