Chapter 7: Hurricane Over the Ridge
Chapter 7: Hurricane Over the Ridge
His bones were strengthening, his power was soaring, his blood was burning…
Mu Feng gathered his strength and did his best to stir the Spiritual Power inside his body.
Nourished by the Blood Pearl, each damaged meridian was repairing. Sadly, the two crucial primary meridians, Shaoyin and Shaoyang, had not improved much and could not be fixed all at once. Every time his Spiritual Power reached these two meridians, it immediately became sluggish, preventing him from breaking through the final barrier.
It was truly a pity that he could not break through even with such a good opportunity. He did not know what severe illness he had contracted in the past that damaged his meridians to such an extent!
Mu Feng sighed deeply in disappointment.
As a loud rooster crowed, he had no choice but to stop his cultivation and stand up. He looked up and saw a sliver of fish-belly white at the horizon.
“Thunder tones temper iron bones; bone tempering is not just thunder tones!”
After taking a deep breath, Mu Feng gave a loud shout. His abdomen gurgled and emitted a series of deep, ox-like bellows. Compared to before, there was now a faint, almost hidden thunderous sound, as if claps of thunder were exploding inside his belly. Every muscle in his body was filled with explosive power. When he threw a punch, even before his fist got close to its target, it created a sharp sonic boom.
The strength of two oxen!
If before he had strength like an ox, now he possessed the power of two wild oxen—his power had doubled.
Last night’s meditation did not allow him to break through to the Early Mortal Realm in one go. He was still one step away from officially stepping into the threshold of cultivation. But his power had surged dramatically; even compared to some experts in the Middle Mortal Realm, he was not inferior at all!
“A gentleman returns favors and grudges. Mu Qingyuan, act more arrogantly, be more deceitful, be more despicable. Your good days are numbered!”
Mu Feng’s eyes were firm, a cold glint flashing in them. Although he felt some regret, his increasingly powerful strength gave him hope of washing away past humiliations.
A Great Sorcerer stands firm between heaven and earth, gives his all until death; there has never been one who lived in disgrace. There was none in the past, there is none now, and there will never be one in the future!
The bullying, arrogant Mu Qingyuan definitely would not last much longer. No matter how powerful the forces behind him were, he was destined to die at Mu Feng’s hands!
“Brother Mu Feng, Mu Feng, come out!”
Suddenly, a crisp voice came from outside the door. Then, a girl about twelve or thirteen years old rushed in like a gust of wind, bringing with her a refreshing fragrance.
Her hair was black and smooth. She wore a mink coat and a pair of high deerhide boots. The outfit was exquisite and luxurious, tailored perfectly to fit, complementing her delicate and pretty features. Seeing Mu Feng standing behind the desk, she smiled, revealing two sweet dimples. “Brother Mu Feng, guess what I brought for you?”
“I don’t know!”
Mu Feng smiled. Today was the annual Lantern Festival, and decorations were hung everywhere. As soon as he saw the small wooden stick behind the girl, he knew what it was, but he did not say it out loud.
This lively girl, Mu Qingzhu, was the Family Patriarch’s favorite great-granddaughter. She was also the clansman he felt most warmly toward in the vast Mu Manor. Over the years, on every festive day, she would bring him some novel little gift.
“Look, a red lantern. I sewed it myself. Isn’t it pretty?” Mu Qingzhu brought out the small lantern she had hidden behind her back and hung it high on the wall. “They say if you hang a red lantern at home during the Lantern Festival, your family will be prosperous and safe this year. Brother Mu Feng, let me grind the ink for you. Draw a painting. Among so many people in our Mu Manor, your calligraphy and paintings are the most beautiful!”
“Trying to trick people again, saying you painted it?” Mu Feng smiled and did not refuse. He pulled out a chair and sat down. “Tell me, what should I paint?”
“Who knows? If I knew, I wouldn’t need to come find you!”
Mu Qingzhu shook her head, extended her soft, delicate little hand, added a bit of water, and gently began to grind the ink. Soon, a rich scent of ink rose from the small inkstone. Tilting her head, she said, “Hmm… don’t make the colors too faint, and nothing too common. Make it fresh, something new. Best… best if it’s something like the sea.”
“Making so many demands when asking for a favor?”
Mu Feng shook his head with a smile. After thinking for a moment, he dipped the brush in ink and began to paint.
In the pitch-black dawn, boundless darkness covered the land. Only at the distant horizon was there a faint hint of fish-belly white. By the endless sea stood a high ridge, facing the oncoming howling hurricane. Many century-old trees were broken at their middles, some even uprooted. The fierce hurricane whipped up sand and stones, raising towering waves.
Yet, on that high ridge, where even the century-old trees were uprooted, there lay a patch of lush, green grass. Though delicate and seemingly insignificant compared to the ancient trees, it clung tenaciously to the ground. No matter the wind and rain, no matter the hurricane’s roar!
Hurricane Over the Ridge, Only the Grass Survives!
Hurricane Over the Ridge painting!
Mu Feng painted quickly at times, slowly at others, as if guided by divine inspiration. Soon, a vigorous and powerful ink-wash landscape appeared on the paper. The thick darkness and the sliver of light at the horizon, the fierce hurricane and the fragile grass—each formed a sharp, striking contrast! At first glance, it seemed vivid and lifelike; upon closer look, a powerful sense of awe washed over the viewer.
The rigid breaks easily, like the tall century-old trees. Only the humble grass, clinging tightly to the ground, could safely weather each violent storm!
A man is a mountain; a man is the sea!
In Mu Feng’s heart, his mother’s admonition echoed once more.
“Beautiful!”
Mu Qingzhu exclaimed in admiration. At her young age, she saw the surface resemblance in the landscape painting but did not grasp the deeper meaning behind the artwork. “Brother Mu Feng, write a few words on it.”
“Alright!”
Mu Feng lifted his brush again and inscribed the four large characters: “Hurricane Over the Ridge.” The strokes were fluid and powerful, the force penetrating the paper.
“Hu…rri…cane… O…ver… the… Ri…dge…”
Mu Qingzhu read each character slowly, blinking her beautiful big eyes. She was a real beauty in the making; when she grew up, she would surely be a woman capable of toppling cities and states. Then she said, “Sigh, I don’t understand. Brother Mu Feng, why are even the words you write so profound? Also, have you been to the seaside? How did you paint it so realistically, so beautifully?”
Mu Feng smiled without answering her first question. After placing the brush aside, he slowly said, “I have never been to the seaside, but not having been doesn’t mean I don’t know what it looks like. A man is a mountain, is the sea. The sea is right here in my heart!”
“Annoying! You scholars always talk in such confusing ways! But, Brother Mu Feng, you’re so talented. I’m sure you will become the top scholar of the Tongtian Dynasty!” Mu Qingzhu stuck out her tongue, made a funny face, then quickly rolled up the calligraphy and painting. She turned and skipped away, planning to show it off to her friends.
Watching her carefree retreating figure, Mu Feng broke into a smile. After a moment’s thought, he took out a turtle shell from his pocket.
He bit his index finger until it bled, let a drop of blood fall onto the shell, then formed a mysterious Sorcerer Seal with his hands. He forcefully stirred the Spiritual Power within his body. The turtle shell in his hand began to grow warm and crack, forming web-like fissures. A faint, elusive aura of fate then wafted through the air, spreading to every corner of the room.
Ancient Witchcraft — Divination.
Using one’s internal Spiritual Power as the foundation and one’s Lifeblood Essence as the guide to predict a person’s future and fate.
Mu Feng performed a profound Ancient Witchcraft, seeking to foresee the future, to pursue good fortune and avoid disaster. After waiting a while for the turtle shell to cool, he looked down at the cracks on it, and his face changed dramatically.
The hard turtle shell had web-like cracks, but there was a distinct horizontal line in the middle, neatly dividing the shell into left and right halves, as if cut by a single knife.
Great Misfortune!
Refusing to believe it, Mu Feng took out a new turtle shell and tried again. The result was the same; the middle crack was even more pronounced, indicating great misfortune. He tried several times in a row, and each time the result was identical!
“Is it about Mother’s illness, or…”
Thinking of the sinister and despicable Mu Qingyuan, Mu Feng’s expression turned grim.
In a few months, it would be time to take the Metropolitan Examination. Failing meant the end of his path in studying literature. He did not dare imagine how disappointed his mother, who had always placed high hopes in him, would be. If he passed, he would go to the Xiangshan Academy in Jiangling Prefecture for further studies, qualifying for the Provincial Examination.
But Jiangling City was a thousand miles away. His mother’s health was worsening, and there was a bully who took advantage of his position. How could he set his mind at ease traveling so far?
“Cultivation. Only by breaking through the bottleneck before leaving for Jiangling, officially stepping into the threshold of cultivation, would his status in the clan rise, and his mother’s livelihood be secured. The stronger his power, the greater the security!”
Mu Feng’s eyes were firm. He quickly found the simplest and most effective method.
Fate is complex and changeable, but as long as one grasps the general direction, even some small troubles would not matter much!
As long as he successfully broke through to the Early Mortal Realm, or even higher realms, no matter how fierce or sinister Mu Qingyuan was, he would not dare do anything to his mother. At the very least, after breaking through, he would be exempt from the upcoming Tribute Payment, directly crushing Mu Qingyuan’s scheme and preventing his mother from worrying and crying all day.
He only had four days left!