Chapter 123: Advancing the Combat Scripture

Fourteen years old—Heavenly Human Stage?

Li Hongzhuang remembered the exact month and year of Li Hao’s birth. That was also the year her ninth elder brother had fallen in battle. Fourteen years had passed since then.

She also remembered—even prodigies like Li Junye hadn’t reached the Heavenly Human Master Stage until the age of seventeen.

And yet, before her now stood a boy, just fourteen, already standing at that peak.

Three years ahead of schedule.

“You’re a natural talent,” Li Hongzhuang snapped back, her voice sharp with disbelief. “A true dragon of the Li Clan this generation? What?”

How could such a treasure be abandoned beyond the Heavenly Gate Pass?

What was her seventh elder brother thinking?

True dragon… Li Hao’s lips twitched slightly, a faint smile playing at the corner of his mouth.

“Natural talent,” he said casually, “nothing special. The Li Clan’s so-called ‘true dragon’ isn’t exactly rare. Only when one truly possesses real strength will they earn respect.”

Li Hongzhuang stared at him, utterly speechless.

“You’re saying that because you’ve got everything already,” she muttered. “Easy for you to say ‘it’s nothing’—you don’t know what it’s like to earn it. Reaching the Fifteen Li Stage might be natural talent backed by family cultivation, but the Human-Heaven Stage? That’s not something talent alone can explain.”

“That requires a rare insight, a profound awakening—something found in one in ten thousand.”

“Ten thousand?” Li Hao replied coolly. “Not even close. Among the Li Clan’s young blood, a talent one in ten thousand isn’t rare. But you—you’re a once-in-a-millennium phenomenon. If Emperor Yu had sifted through billions of martial cultivators over the past thousand years, he’d still only find one like you.”

Li Hao gave a small shake of his head, not wanting to debate further. He waved the crude war banner in his hand.

“What do you think of this?” he asked.

“Not impressive,” Li Hongzhuang said plainly after glancing at it.

Li Hao chuckled. It was true—the banner was made from a makeshift tent cloth. Not grand, not majestic. But he hoped, even in its simplicity, it would still strike fear into the hearts of demon beasts.

Li Hongzhuang’s eyes flicked toward the roasting rack. “I’ve eaten Lion-Hoof Demons before. This flavor… it’s never been this rich.”

“Because it wasn’t cooked by me,” Li Hao replied with a serene smile, his eyes alight with the quiet confidence of a master chef.

Li Hongzhuang glanced at him, then said nothing. She stared into the dancing flames, her cold, battle-worn gaze flickering with something faint—almost like a spark.

【Culinary Dao Experience +182】

【Culinary Dao Experience Full. Please Level Up Soon.】

The two notifications popped up before Li Hao’s eyes. He’d grown used to it.

Culinary Dao was currently the only art he’d reached the sixth level in.

But his experience was already overflowing. Only by entering the Spirit state—by attaining transcendence—could he advance to the seventh level.

Yet, he still hadn’t found the way to enter that state.

Unlike the third-level “Enter the Heart,” which only required deep focus and genuine passion, this required something deeper—something like the Master’s foundation of heart. A true transcendence.

But in this world, it’s easy to say “I love something.” It’s far harder to transcend.

On the path of Culinary Dao transcendence, Li Hao was still feeling his way forward.

Earlier, he’d searched through every tent in the camp. Frontier Region, after all, was just that—barren and harsh. The soldiers’ belongings held no Go boards, no painting scrolls. Even inkstones and brushes were scarce—only a few left, clearly used for recording military reports and dispatches.

At present, he had six arts in his possession:

- Go Art: Five-Dan

- Painting Dao: Five-Stage

- Fishing Dao: Five-Stage

- Poetry and Classics: Three-Stage

- Music and Melody: Three-Stage

- Culinary Dao: Six-Stage

Without transcendence to enter the Spirit, his Body Dao and Sword Dao were both stuck at the sixth level, unable to advance.

Right now, the most urgent task was to refine one art to the point of transcendence—reaching the seventh level.

Li Hao had considered it. Given the crude conditions here, Go Art and Painting Dao would have to wait. Of the remaining arts, Culinary Dao was already at the peak of his progress—but Fishing Dao was the best candidate for a breakthrough.

Once he reached the Fifteen Li Stage, fishing no longer required a rod.

With a rod, he could only catch minor demons—those in the Strength Integration Realm or Circulation Realm.

Great Demons? Almost impossible to reel in—unless by sheer, miraculous luck.

But without a rod or fishing line, Li Hao could still fish.

Like Li Moxiu, he could use his spiritual energy to form a thread—fishing the wilderness, the mountains, the fields.

Fishing wasn’t confined to lakes.

Even a child fishing for frogs in a field or luring eels from their burrows counts as fishing.

What is fishing, really?

Ambush and strike.

Li Hao had thought about learning a new art—carving, for instance.

But he wasn’t short on art skill points. And carving, to reach the third level, required entering the Heart state—something that would consume precious first-level time.

In this remote, deadly frontier, he needed to reach Immortal Stage fast, or he’d have no real chance of surviving alone.

At that moment, the roast meat was done.

Li Hao snapped back to the present. He took the meat off the spit, first handing a portion to Li Hongzhuang.

Then he sliced off pieces for Ren Qianqian and the little white fox.

Finally, he took one for himself and began eating.

Li Hongzhuang took it, muttered a thanks, and immediately sliced it open with her dagger, spearing a chunk with the blade and popping it into her mouth.

“Hmm…” Her chewing paused for a moment, then resumed with sudden urgency.

“Not bad,” she said, nodding slightly—her expression mild, but her eyes revealed quiet satisfaction.

Li Hao smiled, chewing as he asked, “Are you really going to stay here and die?”

Perhaps due to years in the army, Li Hongzhuang carried herself like a man—sitting upright, unyielding. No one would guess that once, as a girl, she’d been delicate and graceful, embroidering peonies with needle and thread.

She tore off a chunk of tendon meat with her fingers, shrugging. “Die? Not really. Just staying a little longer with these brothers, killing a few more demons. No reinforcements coming. The fortress will fall eventually. I’ll just keep fighting until I can’t anymore.”

Her eyes gleamed—sharp, cold, like steel.

Li Hao nodded silently, then finished his own portion.

After filling his stomach, he took another piece, wrapped it in a leaf, and set it aside—meant for Old Feng.

Then he stood, brushed the dirt off his backside, picked up the few crude war banners he’d made, and walked toward the edge of the camp.

Along the way, he planted four banners at the four corners of the perimeter.

Tent fabric, but the characters were bold and firm—thanks to his three-stage Poetry and Classics cultivation.

Li Hao glanced at them, smiled faintly.

Compared to the bloodstained banners of the Blood Devastation Army, his felt pitifully frail.

After planting the banners, he returned to the campfire.

He pulled out scraps of paper collected from the tents, then took up inkstone and brush, and began writing.

“What are you doing?” Li Hongzhuang asked, eyeing him with suspicion. “Writing a family letter?”

Li Hao shook his head. “To whom? The world is my home. Right now, this camp is my family.”

“This is the Combat Scripture of the Pavilion of Listening to Rain.”

“You’re recording it?” she asked.

He nodded, smiling. “Yes. I’ll write it down… then return it to the Li Clan.”

Li Hongzhuang’s face darkened at the mention of Li Hao’s conflict with Li Tiangang.

“You really want to cut ties with your family?” she said, voice tight. “Bloodline can’t be severed.”

“Nothing is truly unbreakable,” Li Hao replied, eyes narrowing slightly. “Maybe your sword just isn’t sharp enough.”

Li Hongzhuang caught the edge in his words. She raised a brow, but didn’t press it.

She knew this child had just left home—his heart still burning with deep resentment.

“Even so,” she said, “do you really think recording it counts as returning it?”

Li Hao shrugged. “The Combat Scripture I return is upgraded—original, but refined. That should be more than enough.”

He meant to write down all the deeper insights he’d unlocked—every advanced form of the Combat Scriptures he’d mastered.

Even if the Li Clan would profit greatly from it, he didn’t care.

He only wanted to sever the connection.

“Oh?” Li Hongzhuang blinked, stunned. “How many have you refined?”

Pushing a Combat Scripture to its advanced form required immense effort—time, focus, soul-deep cultivation. A single one was exhausting. Dozens? Could he really refine all of them?

How much time and energy would that take?

“Dozens,” Li Hao said casually.

He dipped his brush and began writing the first scripture.

Stone Skin Hundred Smelts — Advanced Version: Golden Skin Tempering

The original lower-grade cultivation technique had been elevated to an upper-grade form, thanks to Li Hao’s sixth-level Physical Dao breakthrough. His body now rivaled iron and gold.

Even among Sect Masters, his physical form was ten times stronger than the average.

He also recorded the essence:

Golden Skin Tempering · Diamond!

Instantly amplifies defense tenfold.

If used for a short burst, it could roughly match half the defensive power of the “Unbroken Realm” of the Three Immortals.

Once he reached the Unbroken Realm himself, unleashing Diamond Saint Essence would be terrifying.

This essence wasn’t part of the original Stone Skin Hundred Smelts—so he wasn’t technically breaking his promise to use only Li Clan scriptures.

As for the physical enhancements from Stone Skin Hundred Smelts and other Body Cultivation Arts? He couldn’t discard those.

So he offered this richer version as repayment.

“Dozens?” Li Hongzhuang repeated, stunned.

She looked at his face, illuminated by the campfire—solemn, focused, utterly serious.

Not joking.

She felt a chill.

Fourteen years old. Human-Heaven Stage. Master of dozens of Combat Scriptures?

What kind of prodigy had the Li Clan raised while she was away?

Suddenly, Li Hongzhuang’s expression shifted.

She turned sharply, eyes locking on the darkened wilderness beyond the camp.

Shadows—like swirling clouds—rippled in the night, shifting among the trees.

“They know we’ve retreated,” she said, her eyes flashing with bloodlust. Her hand tightened on her sword hilt.

Li Hao lifted his head, pen frozen mid-air.

A stench drifted on the wind—foul, reeking of demon beasts.

“You stay here,” Li Hongzhuang stood. “I’ll be back soon.”

Li Hao didn’t wait.

His spirit soul surged from his back, soaring into the night.

In the spirit’s vision, the darkness was as clear as day.

He saw demons—hundreds, perhaps thousands—racing toward the camp from the mountains and forests, a wave of shadow surging through the undergrowth, creeping forward without sound.

Numerous.

Li Hao quickly withdrew his pen and the scroll, handing them to Ren Qianqian.

“Keep this safe,” he said.

Ren Qianqian’s face paled.

“Master,” she stammered, trembling. “Are you going too?”

“You stay. Old Feng will secretly watch over you,” Li Hao said, glancing at the wrapped meat. “Besides, he hasn’t eaten dinner yet.”

He smiled at her, then ruffled the little white fox’s head.

And stepped forward.

As he walked, he raised a hand.

Scattered across the ground—broken, rusted short swords—rose into the air, drawn toward him.

One with minimal damage he caught in his grip. The rest followed behind him like a trail.

“Li Hongzhuang!!”

“The army has retreated! And yet you still stay? Want to bury yourself with your soldiers?”

“They’re already in my belly. Come and get them!”

A thunderous roar erupted beyond the camp—like a tiger’s fury, raw and gleeful, radiating a bloody aura.

It was delighted at this rare chance.

“Chi Hu Jun!” Li Hongzhuang stepped out, clad in crimson armor, sword drawn, her face serene yet ice-cold.

“You escaped me last time. I’ve been waiting.”

“Hah! Think I came alone?” A deep voice boomed from the shadows.

From the darkness, a giant tiger demon, chained and bound, emerged—its eyes blazing, fangs bared.

(End of Chapter)

Chapter end