Du Bufan's lips curved into a slight smile, as dazzling and brilliant as the light of dawn. A radiant confidence poured from it, possessing a magical quality that dispelled all the gloom in the world. It was like the warm sun of spring piercing through the clouds, generously scattering warmth and hope across the earth. Every ray seemed to lightly kiss all things in creation, bringing forth boundless vitality and infinite strength.
His gaze shifted, gliding across the night sky like agile stars, and finally landed on Du Rong. At this moment, Du Rong's face was filled with reverence, his eyes as pure as a crystal-clear spring and as burning hot as if they could ignite the soul. He looked like a devout believer gazing up at the supreme deity who governed destiny, his eyes full of awe and yearning.
"Du Rong, you've always longed to become a powerful Body Refining practitioner, haven't you?" Du Bufan's gaze was like a warm spring, gentle and nourishing. Like the warm sun casting patches of light through mottled leaves, it fell softly upon Du Rong, carrying reassurance and encouragement within the light.
"Yes!" Du Rong hurriedly replied, his voice trembling with excitement. That tremor was like a withered leaf shivering in the autumn wind, yet it carried a yearning for rebirth. The light in his eyes shone brilliantly, like fireworks blooming in the night sky, gorgeous and resplendent, as if a broad avenue leading to legend was slowly unfolding before his eyes, paved with glory and dreams, brimming with temptation and hope.
Du Bufan's expression grew solemn, a gravity akin to ancient mountains carrying the accumulation of time and the weight of history. He looked like a priest burdened with a sacred mission, preparing to open an ancient scripture concerning destiny. "Very well, today I shall impart to you the art of the Heavenly Dao Body Refining Art. This art is something I happened to acquire amid the mysteriously intertwined opportunities within the Heavenly Dao Samsara Moral Scripture. It contains the most profound principles between heaven and earth, resembling the deep and mystical secrets of the operation of the cosmic stars. It is the foundation of my path to strength, like the sturdy cornerstone supporting a grand building, and the source of my power. If you can comprehend its essence, your future achievements will surely be extraordinary, soaring upward like a Kunpeng spreading its wings for ninety thousand miles."
Upon hearing this, Du Rong felt as though he had been struck by a divine lightning bolt from the nine heavens, carrying the momentum of world-destroying might and the judgment of fate. His body trembled violently, his skin echoing this sudden impact. His eyes were instantly filled with shock and awe, an intertwining of the desire for formidable power and reverence for unknown opportunity, like a drowning man clutching a straw, or a lost traveler in the darkness seeing a lighthouse. He knew clearly that the technique Du Bufan was about to impart must be an earth-shattering, peerless art, akin to a legendary divine artifact with the power to split heaven and earth, possessing unimaginable and mystical strength. After all, Du Bufan's terrifying might stemmed precisely from this mysterious technique. Could he truly have a chance to touch that unattainable realm of the strong? For him, it was a paradise in a dream—beautiful, yet fragile as a reflection of the moon in water because of its distance.
Before Du Rong could recover from his shock, Du Bufan stood up with a straight posture. His figure stood proudly like an ancient pine, carrying an inviolable majesty within his upright stance. His entire body exuded a mysterious and dignified aura, as if he were the master of heaven and earth to whom all living things must bow in worship, striking awe into people's hearts. Every shred of his presence was like an ancient incantation lingering around him, speaking of his extraordinariness and might.
"Ahem... Let us step aside," the First Elder suggested with a frown. In the world of martial arts, imparting techniques was an extremely private matter, especially for an art as rare and destructive as this. It could be considered the family's most precious treasure and the foundation of its long-standing prosperity, not to be easily displayed to others. Having immersed himself in martial arts for many years, the First Elder knew the stakes well. Techniques were like the soul of a family, bearing its rise and fall, honor and disgrace; once leaked, it could trigger endless disputes and disasters, like opening Pandora's box.
However...
"No need, the elders may watch as well." Du Bufan's expression was calm, his gaze as clear and pure as a mountain lake reflecting the blue sky—tranquil and profound, with every glance speaking of trust and openness. If he were facing others, he would not easily display confidential matters. But through his previous experiences, he knew deeply that these elders were trustworthy. Their loyalty to the family was like an unquenchable guardian spirit fire, unwavering no matter the time. That flame burned deep within their souls, illuminating the path ahead and warding off darkness and danger for the family. In their hearts, the family's interests surpassed all else, like giant dragons guarding a treasure, defending the family's dignity and glory. Every scale flashed with the radiance of loyalty, and every roar proclaimed their protection. Since that was the case, why bother avoiding them?
In an instant, the previously restless crowd grew as quiet as a calm lake. Everyone quickly returned to their seats, staring unblinkingly at Du Bufan, excitement and anticipation mingling in their eyes like the brightest stars in the night sky. Kidding aside, Du Bufan imparting a technique was a rare, heaven-sent opportunity for them, like a blessing from the heavens and the favor of destiny. In their view, this moment was infinitely precious; no one wanted to miss the slightest detail, as missing a single instant would feel like missing the entire world, leaving behind endless regrets. Everyone felt as though they were awaiting a sacred baptism, eager to draw hope for growing stronger from this scene.
Whoosh!
Du Bufan's figure flashed like lightning, swiftly executing three complex and profound Body Refining postures. His silhouette was as elusive as a ghost, yet it carried a sacred and unique rhythm. At that moment, he resonated wonderfully with the spiritual energy of heaven and earth. The surrounding air trembled slightly, rippling like a calm body of water. The spiritual energy in the air seemed endowed with life, flashing with mysterious light like joyful, dancing elves, brimming with vitality. Every movement was like writing an ancient legend, and every posture contained mysterious power, displaying the profound mystery and charm of martial arts.
"Did you understand?" Du Bufan looked at Du Rong, his gaze inquiring, soft, and warm, like a master's expectations for a disciple, brushing against Du Rong's soul like a gentle breeze and offering encouragement and support.
"Yes, I understood!" Du Rong flushed crimson with excitement, looking like a ripe, red apple—adorable and full of vitality. He nodded forcefully, excitement flashing in his eyes like a burning, blazing flame, every flicker declaring his determination and courage.
"Give it a try." Du Bufan's voice was gentle yet forceful, like a soft and vibrant spring breeze sweeping across his heart, bringing the power of encouragement, with every note acting like a leaping elf playing a movement of hope.
Du Rong took a deep breath, struggling to calm his excited emotions, but his heart beat wildly like a war drum beyond his control, as if it wanted to leap out of his chest. Every beat felt like knocking on the door of destiny, filled with tension and anticipation. Then, relying on his memory, he attempted to practice the postures Du Bufan had passed on.
However, when he reached halfway through the very first posture, a terrifying, extreme pulling force suddenly and unceremoniously surged from within his body. That force felt like the evil hand of a demon reaching out from the depths of hell, or the immense suction generated by a mysterious black hole in the universe, carrying a momentum that could destroy everything. It was so powerful that it felt as though it would yank his soul right out of his body while ruthlessly tearing his flesh into pieces. Facing this despair-inducing power, Du Rong was instantly dragged into a dark abyss, leaving him in pitch darkness before his eyes. Every shred of darkness was like the tentacles of the Grim Reaper, tightly wrapping around him and making it impossible for him to break free.
Bang!
Accompanied by a muffled sound, Du Rong flew backward like a cannonball. His body crashed heavily onto the ground, kicking up a cloud of dust like the smog lingering on a battlefield. A trace of blood spilled from the corner of his mouth, dripping onto the ground and splashing into a red flower as striking as the spider lily. That flower looked tragically desolate amidst the dust, as if recounting a sudden tragedy. Every petal seemed to be dripping blood, and every stamen seemed to be weeping, lamenting a cruel destiny.
"This..."
The crowd was deeply shocked by this sudden turn of events, their eyes widening in utter astonishment. Their faces were written with disbelief, and their hearts felt as though a massive boulder had been dropped into them, churning up towering waves that were hard to calm for a long time. Each wave battered their mental defenses, plunging them into deep shock and contemplation. This sudden change plunged the scene into a suffocating silence, as if time had stopped flowing, leaving only the kicked-up dust to drift slowly down, drawing a heavy period to the tragedy.