Chapter Twenty-One: Opportunity

The elderly man was clad in a flowing robe of azure blue, his silver hair weathered by the passage of countless years. Though his appearance was kindly, an unfathomable aura radiated from him, inspiring deep reverence.

Facing this figure, Su Ling’s first impression was of an extraordinary presence—no wonder, for it was his first time encountering such a formidable master endowed with profound powers.

“Elder Yang,” Su Ling greeted respectfully, clasping his fists in salute without any hint of rudeness.

After all, the old man before him was undeniably powerful, not to be underestimated or treated lightly.

“Oh?” Elder Yang’s voice carried a teasing tone. “When did Ruan Qiong’s favored disciple become so polite?”

“I heard you once broke one leg of Song Jixin from Clay Bottle Alley—and that very leg was mended by my own hands…”

The implication was clear: where had that domineering spirit of his gone?

Su Ling’s mouth twitched at the words. Of course, he would never dare be reckless in front of the elder. Crossing him might not cost him his life, but it would surely bring suffering.

It was precisely because of the elder’s unpredictable temperament that Su Ling seldom came to pay respects here.

“Forget it, forget it. Old age makes one meddlesome,” Elder Yang chuckled softly.

“What brings you here?” he asked.

“…The life-born porcelain.”

According to ancient records, Elder Yang was a key figure in the resurgence of the Divine Path’s fallen order, having lived tens of thousands of years. His keen intellect naturally saw through Su Ling’s intentions.

“Oh?” Elder Yang narrowed his eyes shrewdly, his gaze penetrating Su Ling’s very soul. “Why not have your master come ask? Do you take my place for a temple of Bodhisattvas, granting every wish?”

Su Ling felt the weight of a towering mountain pressing down upon him, his breath faltering, stifled beneath an overwhelming, majestic force, akin to the very will of Heaven itself—unstoppable, unyielding.

Yet he understood this pressure was not physical, but a spiritual oppression.

For in this world, no physical force could yet compel him to bow; such hubris belonged solely to himself.

If he were to awaken his own Way and unleash his martial intent, this divine suppression, capable of destroying heaven and earth, would have little effect.

“Forgive my rudeness,” Su Ling said, offering a gesture of respect before readiness for confrontation.

As his body teetered on the brink of collapsing under the spiritual weight, Su Ling did not unleash his martial power. Instead, relying on his extraordinarily robust physique and strength, he resisted the divine force.

Though mentally it was as if trapped inside a dense steam engine, crushed beneath a pressure strong enough to pulverize steel into dust.

Spiritually, he was about to kneel, yet physically, such threat was insufficient to fell him.

Thus, a peculiar spectacle unfolded in the courtyard, surprising even Elder Yang.

The spiritual oppression demanded his body’s submission, yet his form was like an unyielding sword—bent they would not be.

Moreover, his immense physique and strength rendered the spiritual pressure powerless.

At that moment, a sudden inspiration struck Su Ling. Amid the oppression, he began cultivating his martial techniques.

His body served as the furnace, his soul the mold. Fueled by a vast and continuous supply of external energy, the bonds of this confinement began to loosen.

Though the oppression was spiritual, not physical, his divine soul was tempered exponentially under the support of such a formidable body.

After all, the body was akin to modern high-tech hardware, while the soul was outdated software.

With superior hardware, even flawed software could perform beyond its usual limits.

This incongruity between body and soul seemed to spur a mad surge of improvement in his divine essence, striving to match his noble physique.

“Hmm?” Elder Yang’s eyes widened in surprise at this astonishing scene. After a moment’s thought, the stern expression on his face softened considerably.

“Heh, truly worthy of being a transcendent martial god in the making. To use adversity itself as nourishment for growth?”

“Does he think himself the next Qi Jingchun to found a sect and claim ancestral honors?”

“No, in fact, this youth might well become that very martial god…”

Seeing Su Ling absorb all the divine energy, Elder Yang made no attempt to stop him, allowing him to take as much as he wished.

He was no miser; rather, he wished to see just how far this young man could go.

Meanwhile, Su Ling felt nothing of the outside world, indifferent even to danger. After all, any physical attack capable of breaking his skin would mean defeat.

Now he focused intently on the rapidly advancing martial technique—an invaluable opportunity he was determined to seize.

Though time seemed to stretch endlessly, in reality only three minutes passed, yet to Su Ling it felt as if a decade had slipped by.

This illusion was short-lived. Suddenly, a sharp cracking sound, like glass shattering deep within, signaled the breakthrough of his bottleneck.

As he prepared to press onward in his technique’s advancement, Elder Yang suddenly laughed aloud.

“You sly one, still unwilling to submit.”

The thunderous voice struck Su Ling like lightning, abruptly cutting off the spiritual pressure, forcing him to cease his cultivation.

Yet even had Elder Yang continued, Su Ling would have stopped—too great a leap might cause irreparable harm.

Cultivation was not a matter of haste; otherwise, it would bring endless troubles. Besides, his recent effort was merely to experience the multiplied pain of martial technique advancement.

Though he had not yet fully comprehended it, the forced interruption came nonetheless.

Still, he knew that even magnified pain left him unmoved—when refining his divine soul moments ago, he had felt no pain at all.

The reason lay in his superhuman physique, unlike anything found in this world.

The Limit Breaker was truly terrifying; its sheer physical defense nullified all pain from cultivation.

If it were a question of raw power, no one on earth could withstand his full strike—no surprise there, unless some hidden godly master dared to meet his blow.

“Thank you, Elder Yang, for aiding my breakthrough,” Su Ling bowed respectfully, no longer minding the elder’s earlier sternness.

Previously, Elder Yang had provoked him only because Su Ling had grown somewhat overconfident, nearly breaking the town’s rules three years prior.

But after that incident, the elder’s grudge dissolved, and he ceased to pick quarrels.

After all, Su Ling’s unparalleled, top-tier martial talent was undeniable. Though Elder Yang was a divine cultivator, he was also a respected member of the human race.