The Elysium Across Deep Space

Wu Yin glanced at Old Wu without saying a word. However, when she looked at Wang Xuan, her expression was notably more amiable than when she gazed at her uncle, even gracing him with a smile.

She then noticed Zhong Qing from the corner of her eye. With her tall stature and striking beauty, she appeared like the quintessential college belle - pure and gracefully alluring. But when Zhong Qing turned to look at her and slightly lifted her chin. Is that a hint of provocation?

Wu Yin, unfazed, took a few graceful steps in her high heels. Her movements radiated grace and confidence. She threw a dismissive look at Zhong Qing, exuding unparalleled self-assurance.

Zhong Qing, always perceptive and detail-oriented, felt an urge to confront Wu Yin directly. She felt Wu Yin had been stepping over the line recently. Her confident gaze was rather irritating. It's just a glance, what's the big deal?

"Did you see that, sis? Miss Wu is quite confident. With Old Wu backing her up, if we don't act proactively, they might win over Little Wang," Zhong Cheng whispered, with a mock-serious face, as he moved closer to his sister. "Little Wang is in his prime now..."

Suddenly, he felt immense pain in his arm. His sister had grabbed him tightly with her slender, white hand. Hurriedly, he whispered, "Don't get violent. I wasn't implying anything about you and him. What I meant was, Little Wang is young and energetic. He’s at the perfect age for adventure. If he leads our expedition into the Hidden Land and finds the Immortal Herb, we'd hit the jackpot!"

As he continued, his excitement outpaced even his sister's, "The Immortal Herb! It can extend one's life by centuries! If he can find me one, I'd gladly call him 'brother-in-law' every day and night!"

And just like that... he was subjected to yet another vicious beating. Zhong Cheng could barely suppress a scream as blows rained down upon him. Had they not been in public, Zhong Qing would have surely knocked him to the ground and trampled over him with her high heels. However, she was attentive. She realized that the Hidden Land indeed required top talents from the Old Arts domain. Observing Wang Xuan at the entrance, she pondered how to win him over to her side.

The “Substance X” in the Hidden Land is abundant, causing spaceships to crash and delicate instruments to break. Moreover, it corrodes the mystery factors, making it a place suitable only for those with strong physiques to explore.

Wang Xuan proceeded into the memorial hall, garnering attention. Some greeted him. Given the somber nature of the event, most people simply nodded. Yet, seeing this, Zhou Wei's face turned pale. He felt utterly humiliated, believing he had made a mess of things.

He had incited Sun Chuan to strike again, hoping to deal a decisive blow to the only rising star of the Old Arts domain. To their surprise, they were defeated in their spiritual contest, even when they launched a combined ambush against the young man. Zhou Wei felt an overwhelming pain in his head. Feeling the contrasting gazes of the attendees on him and the young man, his face turned beet red from embarrassment. The outcome was deeply humiliating.

Not long ago, he had told several middle-aged representatives from wealthy families that the Old Arts domain was merely a fleeting flame in the wind. He argued that the young man would not attain the realm of a master anytime soon and might soon fade away.

Now, he felt as if he had been slapped twice—once for the actual pain on his head and another for the embarrassment he felt.

Sun Chuan's low growls persisted for what seemed like an eternity. Gradually, his fury dissipated, but the weight of his public humiliation remained. To be forced onto his knees in front of a rising star of the Old Arts was the ultimate disgrace. As the memorial service proceeded, orchestrated by an eloquent emcee, the atmosphere amongst the attendees had unmistakably shifted. Those from the New Arts realm wore gloomy expressions, the day's events a blow to their collective pride. To them, this felt like a public blood sacrifice of two veteran Masters to elevate the reputation of the youngest Old Arts Master of the era.

The emcee meticulously recounted the illustrious life of Olesha, a figure described as having made "monumental contributions" in the New Arts realm, only to be tragically cut down in his prime due to an aircraft accident.

Wang Xuan observed with a calm demeanor, confident that if the final truth were revealed, it would shock everyone. The real perpetrator of the crime wasn't Qing Mu, but rather, 'Dying Old Chen', who mercilessly cut down Olesha. Moreover, Wang Xuan couldn't help but critique Old Chen's peculiar inclinations. The wreath presented today, handwritten by Old Chen using his left hand, was a matter of personal insistence, even attracting disapproving glances from Guan Lin.

As attendees lined up to pay their respects, many bowed. Wang Xuan, however, merely offered a brief nod. He couldn’t bow in front of the man. Underneath the white cloth, Olesha's 'peaceful' face was hidden from view.

Wang Xuan pondered over Olesha's unfortunate fate: first butchered by Old Chen, and then 'aged' by Qing Mu. The pungent odor of charred flesh, even amid the fragrant flowers, was unmistakable.

Wang Xuan barely lingered. With his heightened senses as a Master, the smell emanating from Olesha was almost unbearable. He resolved to avoid any grilled foods that day, associating the scent with the charred remains. He noticed that many attendees shared his sentiment, taking a swift glance and promptly exiting. Some didn't even venture in, like Old Chen's confidante – Guan Lin. Her mere presence was already a significant gesture. She clearly had no desire to gaze upon the charred remains.

Regret welled up in Wang Xuan. If he'd known earlier, he would've indulged Old Chen's wish, allowing him to wear a human-skin mask and personally attend Olesha's memorial. The putrid smell would've served as a stern lesson to Old Chen. Guan Lin was engaged in amiable conversation with several middle-aged individuals. They seemed like old acquaintances. Their camaraderie was evident, despite the somber setting. Old Wu approached discreetly, informing Wang Xuan that these individuals hailed from the New Star and had strong affiliations with financial magnates supportive of the New Arts.

Realization dawned on Wang Xuan. It was likely that pressure from this group had intended for Qingmu to be the scapegoat, but Guan Lin had successfully intervened. Observing their jovial interaction, there was no sign of tension. He mused that some confrontations are best resolved through amiable exchanges.

Guan Lin's upbeat demeanor indicated that most issues had been addressed.

Soon, a throng of people approached Wang Xuan, all with intentions of wooing him. The emergence of such a young Master in the Old Arts realm had piqued many interests. Organizations capable of exploring the "secret region" were particularly eager to enlist Wang Xuan's expertise.

Wang Xuan responded amiably to all, ending up with a handful of business cards by the end of the interactions.

As the memorial concluded, many attendees prepared to depart.

The two Masters from the New Arts domain wore stormy expressions, their disgruntlement evident. In a move to salvage their reputation, they discreetly approached Wang Xuan, suggesting a more secluded duel. Their earlier public humiliation, having been dominated by a neophyte, was a sting they couldn't overlook. Word of this impending rematch soon spread, and many who'd planned to depart opted to stay, eager for the showdown.

Wang Xuan, known for his preference for subtlety, was suddenly thrust into the limelight. But, seeing Guan Lin's silent approval, he felt encouraged. It seemed Guan Lin had brokered some discussions with the middle-aged men, and now expected Wang Xuan to demonstrate his prowess against the New Arts' representatives.

Wang Xuan also acknowledged that he'd soon set aside his current identity for a time. Given this, he was determined to leave an indelible mark on the New Arts domain, serving them a lesson they'd long remember.

With Sun Chuan, still reeling from his previous defeat, overseeing Olesha's funeral, Zhou Wei was eager to challenge Wang Xuan. Although Zhou Wei acknowledged Wang Xuan's considerable mental strength, he believed the younger man lacked the specific secret techniques to mount an effective offensive.

Zhou Wei’s intention was to engage Wang Xuan in a private duel, intending to declare his victory post-battle. But as news slipped out, an audience congregated.

The confrontation took them to an expansive terrain on the outskirts, a fitting stage for an intense combat.

The gathered spectators stood back, observing in hushed anticipation. None intervened; the atmosphere was charged as they awaited the climactic face-off between the Masters of the Old and New Arts.

Recognizing that he'd soon revert to his true identity, Wang Xuan decided there was no further need for discretion. Once he chose to strike, he unleashed his formidable techniques without reservation. Stepping forward, Wang Xuan seemed to levitate just above the ground, moving fluidly like a serpent ascending into a dragon, enveloped in a mystical mist, aggressively charging his opponent.

At his side, a faint layer of mist clung, giving the impression of a dragon soaring the skies, assertively seeking to overpower his adversary.

"Snake Crane Eight Style Technique!" Zhou Cheng muttered, recalling Wang Xuan's teachings. He watched, captivated, not daring to blink.

The elderly figure beside Zhou Qing was equally engrossed, his gaze unwavering and filled with anticipation. Both began to appreciate Wang Xuan's profound wisdom in action. As he seemed to glide, surrounded by the white mist, his ethereal form epitomized the sentiments of Taoist founder Zhang Daoling during his reclusion. Moreover, Wang Xuan's radiant gaze was deeply intimidating. Is this the manifestation of profound confidence, which, after being pent-up, now exploded?

Boom!

A massive explosion resounded mid-air, energies colliding ferociously. The two clashed repeatedly in an intense aerial ballet. The elder next to Zhou Qing, trembling with excitement, exclaimed, "Precisely! From a serene, detached form to a sudden, fierce, aggressive stance. Such a swift transition, embodying the true essence of the Snake Crane Eight Scatter Hands!"

Within moments, after dozens of rapid exchanges in mid-air, Zhou Wei was sent hurtling backward, blood spurting from his mouth.

Wang Xuan landed gracefully but instantly pursued his wounded opponent, initiating their final showdown.

To Wang Xuan, Zhou Wei was a stepping stone, helping him grasp the consciousness of a Master. He displayed ethereal grace, but when provoked, his formidable might and fierceness resonated exactly with his earlier teachings.

Zhou Cheng was utterly awestruck. He felt he had grasped the concept and believed he was on the cusp of mastering the two styles of the Snake Crane Eight Style Technique.

The elderly master was so engrossed that he began to enact the movements on the spot, gleaning new insights and enhancing one of the techniques to an even more sophisticated level.

"A divine epiphany!" he exclaimed, his fervor reaching palpable heights.

Thud!

Zhou Wei was thrust through the air, his chest caved in. Even at the pivotal moment, while Wang Xuan maintained a serene demeanor emblematic of a Master, he unleashed a devastating chest kick.

A collective gasp swept through the crowd. The fight had ended so abruptly. Master Wang Xuan was evidently more formidable than they had presumed, efficiently and dominantly besting the seasoned master.

"I've grasped it! I truly comprehend those two techniques now!" Zhou Cheng excitedly declared, seemingly oblivious to any forthcoming reprimands from his sister. He mused aloud, "At this moment, I still wholeheartedly regard him as Master Wang. And adding the title... 'Brother-in-law'... might not be too far-fetched, right?!"