The purple-black aura instantly spread across the entire palm.

  But that wasn't all. The monk raised his hand and pulled up his sleeve, revealing strands of poisonous gas intertwining and stretching like vines, wrapping around his arm and climbing upward.

  He immediately activated his inner strength to suppress the poison, but all he could do was contain it within his arm, unable to expel it from his body.

  The monk's face turned an ugly shade of red.

  The short, masked figure leaped onto the monk's shoulder again, his eyes filled with fury.

  "How can the one who poisoned us be so indifferent to the martial arts code, so sinister in his actions!"

  "This poison has a faint odor. If my sense of smell weren't unusually sharp, I wouldn't have been able to detect even the slightest trace."

  "How are you holding up?"

  As he spoke, he reached into his robe and pulled out several bottles, quickly opening them and pouring antidote pills into the monk's mouth.

  However, after trying several antidotes, the black gas still did not dissipate.

  The monk's face was flushed, and white mist began to rise from his forehead. His internal energy was at its peak, but the poison in his palm was proving completely unmanageable.

  His expression darkened, his face contorting with anger and pain.

  "There's no use trying anymore... this poison is incredibly potent!"

  "Damn it, if that old bastard were here..."

  The short, masked figure wanted to say more, but suddenly, the monk's face turned grim. He kicked out fiercely, sending the crescent-shaped shovel flying into the air. After tumbling a few times, it fell back down, landing with a loud clang.

  With a swift motion, the monk extended his poisoned arm, gritted his teeth, and with a sharp "sizzle," he severed half of his arm with the crescent shovel.

  The crescent shovel made a metallic sound as it plunged into the ground, standing upright. The sound reverberated throughout the broken temple.

  The monk grunted in pain, his already twisted face now resembling a demon's.

  In the air, a shadow flitted past as the short, masked figure swiftly pressed his hands against the monk's severed shoulder, using his fingers to stop the bleeding.

  The monk was a tough one. Using his remaining hand, he ripped off the hem of his monk's robe and wrapped it around the stump, tying it tightly.

  Through gritted teeth, he spat out,

  "Where did they go?"

  "Based on the scent they left behind, they went north!"

  "We'll follow them. If they think they can use such dirty tricks against me, then their martial arts are probably not that strong."

  "They cut off my arm, they will pay with their lives!!"

  ......

  On a rainy night, through the forest, two figures were heading north.

  It was Su Lun and Ye Menghua.

  The two of them were traveling at a steady pace, neither too fast nor too slow.

  However, Ye Menghua's movements were light and graceful, her body floating like a leaf in the wind, every jump and step full of elegance and purpose.

  In contrast, Su Lun's steps were heavy and firm. Every time he leaped, the ground cracked with a loud noise, and rainwater splashed around. When he landed, his feet sank deep into the muddy ground, creating shallow pits with the water flooding back into them.

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  It was obvious that he wasn't using lightness skill at all; it looked more like an ordinary person running.

  Yet, there was something strange about him. His breath was steady and long, his leg muscles moving like steel whips, his bones solidly supporting his body like stone.

  Ye Menghua watched in astonishment.

  She wasn't unaware of Su Lun's strange movements. At first, she had assumed he was practicing some extraordinary lightness skill.

  But after they'd run for over thirty miles, she couldn't shake the feeling that something was off.

  After some thought, Ye Menghua couldn't help but ask,

  "Mr. Su... what kind of lightness skill are you using?"

  "Lightness skill?"

  Su Lun glanced back at her.

  "I don't use lightness skill."

  He truly didn't.

  He couldn't, because the old drunkard couldn't teach him that.

  Everything he knew, from medicine to swordsmanship and internal cultivation, had come from the old drunkard.

  Even his internal power was of a crude, unrefined kind that only gave him enough energy to circulate externally.

  Could anyone expect a scoundrel who lived by trickery, drinking, gambling, and carousing to possess any profound internal martial arts?

  "...?"

  Ye Menghua was once again stunned by Su Lun's words.

  His internal power was unfathomable—how could he not know lightness skill?

  She wanted to doubt him, but looking at him, he seemed sincere and the situation didn't seem like an act. So it must be true: he didn't know lightness skill.

  After pondering for a moment, she finally said,

  "Since you don't know lightness skill, your movements are already quite fast thanks to your profound internal power."

  "However, it's very taxing on your internal energy."

  "This journey will rely heavily on you, Sir. If you use all your internal energy just to cover distance, what if others catch up to us? We might be in danger."

  Su Lun nodded.

  "Miss.Ye makes a valid point, but I really don't know lightness skill..."

  "In that case, I do know a lightness skill. It's up to you whether you want to learn it."

  "Oh? Is it from the Liuyun Sword Sect?"

  Su Lun was always eager to learn lightness skill from any sect.

  Lightness skill was invaluable.

  One could travel the jianghu without a horse, but not without lightness skill.

  Flying across the snow without leaving a trace, leaping across grass like wind... back in his previous life, Su Lun had loved such skills in martial arts novels.

  But back then, he never thought he'd live long enough to bother with it.

  And the old drunkard didn't know it either—he had no connections to learn it.

  With the system's assistance, not only did he gain profound inner strength, but the life-threatening crisis seemed far less dire.

  Originally, he had hoped to acquire a top-tier internal martial arts technique and a light-footwork skill. To his surprise, while the internal technique was still nowhere to be found, the light-footwork skill had practically fallen into his lap.

  As these thoughts passed through his mind, he spoke leisurely,

  "Can this light-footwork skill be shared freely? If your sect elders find out, will they send someone to hunt me down? I've heard that stealing martial arts techniques is one of the greatest taboos in the martial world."

  "Please rest assured, Sir," Ye Menghua said. "This light-footwork skill isn’t a technique of the Liuyun Sword Sect. It's one of my Ye family’s ancestral secrets.

  "Now that my Ye family has fallen into ruin, and I was destined to perish without your rescue, it wouldn’t be excessive even if I handed over all our family’s martial arts to you."

  "I see," Su Lun said with a smile. "Then I’ll have to trouble you, Miss Ye."

  "Very well."

  Ye Menghua, seeing his agreement, felt relieved. She softly said,

  "The light-footwork skill I’m teaching you is called Heavenly Qian Nine Steps.

  "Let me first recite the mental technique’s incantation for you. Please memorize it..."

  The incantation wasn’t long—only sixty-eight verses in total. Ye Menghua finished reciting it in mere moments.

  "Void walks, shifting five, pacing three yuan, stepping into the abyss, four points part to both sides.

  "Heaven’s mountain, wind and fire, return to Mei; alone amidst the vastness, merge with Tian Qian!"

  ...

  "How much have you remembered, Sir?"

  "I’ve memorized it all."

  In just a few moments, Su Lun had committed the entire incantation to memory. Without waiting for Ye Menghua to confirm, he recited it flawlessly, word for word.

  Ye Menghua was astonished. She couldn’t help but admire him. "Truly a martial arts genius," she thought. Considering his profound inner strength, she realized it was only natural. Without further hesitation, she began explaining the incantation’s meaning.

  What did "Void walks" mean? What was "stepping into the abyss"? The term "Lin" referred to Di Ze Lin, derived from the sixty-four hexagrams. How should one step in such situations?

  The sixty-eight verses took half an hour to explain in full.

  Fortunately, the two continued their journey while learning, so their progress wasn’t delayed.

  Once the explanation was complete, Ye Menghua began demonstrating the movements in coordination with the light-footwork technique.

  She guided Su Lun on how to step, how to gather breath, and how to align each movement with the circulation of inner strength.

  If someone had passed by in the rain that night, they would have seen a man and a woman walking side by side. The man’s movements and steps gradually mirrored the woman’s.

  They didn’t follow a straight path. At times, they paused, stepped, turned, or shifted directions mid-stride.

  At first, their pace was slow. Gradually, they moved faster and faster. In the blink of an eye, their figures blurred, cutting through the wind and leaving behind faint, fleeting shadows.