Chapter 18: Celestial Martial Arts Diagram
Under the watchful eyes of the guests, a tall, elegant woman stepped forward gracefully, surrounded by an entourage. Her silver hair shimmered with a metallic sheen, catching the light like polished steel. Zhang Yu couldn’t help but wonder if it was part of some Spirit Armor. He mentally calculated how much a single strand might be worth.
The red evening gown she wore was etched with flickering trails of flame, as if living fire danced within the fabric, radiating intense spiritual energy. Zhao Tianxing couldn’t help but think the dress itself was likely a priceless artifact—a true treasure.
At the same time, the Xianyun Group’s director, his body glistening like it had been coated in gold foil, stepped forward to greet Li Xuelian. Two more wealthy cultivators at the Foundation Establishment stage quickly joined the conversation.
Around them, a sea of wealthy elites and social celebrities gathered, desperate to catch even a fleeting moment of interaction with the four. But they didn’t get much time.
After exchanging a few words with the trio, Li Xuelian moved toward the curtain concealing the Celestial Martial Arts Diagram.
"Everyone, thank you for coming to today’s exhibition."
Amidst applause, she smiled faintly and continued: "In this moment filled with creativity and inspiration, we’ve all come together..."
Zhang Yu yawned lazily, wondering if he should take this chance to meditate and cultivate.
Then, a flicker passed through his mind. I’ve been practicing so much lately. Is it because the ritual’s power has conditioned me, or is this world slowly reshaping me?
Luckily, Li Xuelian’s speech was brief. Before Zhang Yu could dwell further, she shifted into the topic that had the most talented young cultivators in the room leaning in with rapt attention.
"Over the past few years, my father has been searching for a worthy disciple to inherit his legacy—his martial arts and Daoist techniques."
"Unfortunately, he has high standards. After years of searching, he still hasn’t found anyone who truly meets his criteria."
"So, he personally painted this Celestial Martial Arts Diagram, embedding within it a complete martial art."
"Should any young prodigy under twenty succeed in mastering the technique hidden within, my father will accept them as his disciple and personally train them to reach the pinnacle of academia."
"However, this painting contains a fragment of my father’s martial Dao essence. Viewing it will subject the observer to a mental冲击—there is a risk of spiritual heart damage."
"During the contemplation process, please proceed with caution. Do not push beyond your limits."
As she finished, Li Xuelian slowly drew back the curtain, revealing the Celestial Martial Arts Diagram behind it.
Within a frame over two meters tall, a hazy silhouette slowly emerged.
Is this what a Golden Core immortal’s painting looks like? Zhang Yu thought, staring blankly. To him, it looked like a child’s careless scribble—an unskilled attempt at drawing a human figure. Worse than a beginner’s sketch.
Just as he thought that, someone bellowed, "Amazing!"
"Such vibrant energy! The brushwork is masterful—this is the pinnacle of Xinghuo Immortal’s artistry. It humbles us all!"
Others quickly chimed in, fawning: "It’s breathtaking! Though simple in appearance, the depth of meaning grows with every glance. The more you study it, the more profound it becomes!"
But just as the praise grew louder, Li Xuelian coughed softly, cutting through the chorus.
"Everyone," she said calmly, "to prevent accidental harm, my father placed a subtle seal upon the painting. Only those within five meters can see its true form—but they will also be affected by the martial Dao essence within."
"Any young master eager to contemplate it is welcome to step forward."
Hearing this, the previous flatterers immediately turned red with embarrassment, their voices dying mid-sentence.
Yet someone had already stepped forward—the very same Lian Tianji from Ziyun High School, the one who had just spoken with the man carrying the coffin.
"Hah! Let me, Lian Tianji, see what makes this Celestial Martial Arts Diagram so legendary!"
With a grin, Lian Tianji strode confidently toward the painting.
Qian Shen watched him approach, his eyes narrowing. Lian Tianji from Ziyun High School. The one who scored 670 in the monthly exam last month. One of the rivals I’ll face after defeating Bai Zhenzhen.
As Lian Tianji drew nearer, the hazy figure in the painting grew clearer—revealing a middle-aged man slowly performing a profound martial form.
Lian Tianji’s mind became entranced, drawn deeper into the image. Then, suddenly, the figure raised a fist and struck at him through the air.
Boom!
A deep, muffled sound echoed through the air.
Lian Tianji froze, eyes wide, glaring fiercely at the painting.
To onlookers, it seemed he had been completely absorbed—deep in meditation, unlocking the secrets of the Dao.
But Li Xuelian quietly explained: "My father sought only those with unyielding will and indomitable spirit. When contemplating the Celestial Martial Arts Diagram, one must face their deepest fears."
"Only by overcoming inner weakness can one truly grasp its essence."
Hearing this, the crowd gasped in surprise, staring at Lian Tianji’s frozen form, wondering what terror he was confronting.
In that moment, however, Lian Tianji’s world had changed.
He was no longer at the exhibition.
He stood in a classroom—just as if the art show, Li Xuelian, the painting—it had all vanished.
His homeroom teacher stood at the front, announcing the results of the last monthly exam.
But as the names were called, Lian Tianji heard nothing.
No. Not first place.
Not tenth.
Not twentieth.
Not fiftieth.
As the names kept falling, his heart tightened with dread.
Back at the exhibition, Li Xuelian said, "The Celestial Martial Arts Diagram can be contemplated together. Any other young prodigies eager to try—please step forward."
Qian Shen exchanged a glance with several classmates, then all three moved toward the painting.
Meanwhile, other young cultivators began approaching one by one.
Zhang Yu turned to Zhou Tianyi beside him and asked curiously, "Aren’t you going to try?"
Zhou Tianyi chuckled, shrugging. "I’m just here for the show. No point in embarrassing myself."
Zhang Yu turned to Bai Zhenzhen. "What about you? No interest?"
Bai Zhenzhen glanced at the painting and replied coldly, "I’m still thinking."
"Thinking about what?" Zhang Yu asked.
"I don’t want to take a master."
If I become a disciple, I’ll have to sign a contract with that Xinghuo Immortal—some kind of slave agreement, she thought. Then I’ll have no say in which university I attend, which major I choose. I’ll be in debt for life… and I don’t even know how the interest works.
Zhang Yu, hearing her hesitation, said firmly, "You don’t have to become his disciple just because you master the technique. You can walk away anytime."
He looked at the painting, smiling faintly. "Even if it’s just a Qi-Cultivation level martial art left by a Golden Core immortal—buying the rights to use it on the open market would cost tens of thousands. Why not take a free chance?"
"No need to become Xinghuo Immortal’s disciple. Just don’t finish mastering it, and you’re free."
Zhou Tianyi laughed. "That makes sense. It’s free to try, so why not?"
Zhao Tianxing, however, declined. The thought of standing there in his security uniform, surrounded by elites, trying to meditate on the painting—just the idea made him cringe.
But as he watched Zhang Yu walk forward, he couldn’t help but feel a grudging respect for the man’s boldness.
At that moment, a crackle sounded from Zhao Tianxing’s walkie-talkie.
The security chief barked, "What the hell are you doing? You’re security! Who gave you permission to abandon your post to meditate on that damn painting? Get back here now!"
Zhao Tianxing broke into a cold sweat. He shouted back and dashed forward, desperate to pull Zhang Yu away.
But as he approached the painting, the figure in it sharpened into focus—clear now as a real man, stern-faced and powerful.
Around him, the air filled with laughter.
Zhao Tianxing turned—and saw everyone at the exhibition staring at him, pointing, whispering, mocking.
"Look at the security guard trying to meditate on the Celestial Martial Arts Diagram!"
"Does he think he’s a cultivator?"
"Pathetic."
Amid the jeers, Zhao Tianxing froze. He scratched his head, tugged at his ear, unsure where to look or how to stand.
Meanwhile, as Zhang Yu, Zhou Tianyi, and Bai Zhenzhen stepped closer, the hazy figure solidified into a firm-faced middle-aged man—then, with a sudden motion, he punched through the air at them.
Bai Zhenzhen felt a jolt—and her phone began vibrating violently.
She pulled it out.
A message from a loan platform flashed on the screen:
> Regarding your overdue 'Qianbei Debt': multiple reminders have been ignored. Please settle the debt within three days. Failure to do so will result in legal action.
>
> Continued default will trigger a background check on your residence.
>
> You’re a deadbeat. You don’t even have the face to pay for a few hundred. Your whole family should be collecting bottles for a living.
More messages followed—each more vicious than the last. From simple reminders, they spiraled into relentless abuse, threats, and personal humiliation.
Bai Zhenzhen stared at the screen, her hands trembling, her skin slick with sweat.
Then the phone rang.
She froze—her fingers hovering over the screen.
But before she could react, the call connected automatically.
A cold, mechanical voice filled the air.
> "Due to your credit fraud and overdue payment, a serious breach has occurred. Sky Net has locked your location. If the debt remains unpaid within three days, a thunderbolt will be summoned."
A deep rumble echoed through the hall.
Bai Zhenzhen looked up—just in time to see faint flashes of lightning flickering in the sky above.
(End of Chapter)
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