Peerless Martial Soul Chapter 2: Breakthrough!

Five years vanished in the blink of an eye.

Chen Feng had reached sixteen years of age this year.

The people of the Qian Yuanzong had nearly erased the memory of the useless Yan Qingyu and the equally worthless apprentice he left behind five years prior.

Under a night sky as clear as water, Chen Feng’s eyes snapped open, a sharp radiance flickering within them.

Standing up, he offered a deep bow toward the tombstone and whispered, "Master, five years have passed. Following your instructions, I must now exhume your grave. I hope you will forgive my intrusion."

With those words, he began to shovel the earth and uncover the burial site.

Shock filled his gaze the moment the tomb was opened and the coffin pried apart.

Unexpectedly, the corpse of Yan Qingyu was gone.

It seemed impossible; he had personally laid his Master's body to rest.

Leaping down, he discovered a small chest at the bottom of the casket. Upon opening the wooden container, he found a fist-sized tripod resting upon a spread of yellow silk.

The small bronze tripod was coated in green rust, possessing three legs and rounded ears. Its ancient design radiated a mysterious aura of primeval wilderness.

Floating within the small cauldron was a single drop of something that resembled blood.

The moment his eyes met that drop of mysterious dragon blood, a thunderous roar shook his mind, and he instantly lost consciousness.

He felt as though his entire being had been cast into a boundless world of ink. The heavens were the color of soot, filled with swirling obsidian vortices that circled relentlessly.

Beneath his feet stretched an infinite black plain, desolate and empty.

At the horizon of this wasteland stood a dark mountain range, far taller than the Aomori mountains where the Qian Yuanzong resided. Was it perhaps over a thousand miles long?

As he approached the range, the mountains suddenly shifted!

The peaks rose, revealing themselves to be a colossal dragon head! That single head alone dwarfed the tallest summit in the Great Qin Kingdom.

That black mountain range, spanning thousands of miles, was actually the body of this gargantuan dragon.

The dragon let out a mournful cry toward the heavens, summoning a torrential downpour. In an instant, the land transformed into a vast sea, and Chen Feng was dragged beneath the waves.

Unable to draw breath, Chen Feng felt the agony of suffocation, an experience of pure misery.

After a long interval, his head throbbed, and he struggled out of the deep-sea illusion. Chen Feng collapsed onto his knees, gasping for air while cold sweat drenched his brow.

He didn't dare look at that drop of blood again. What kind of beast did this belong to? How could it be so terrifying? If a single drop possessed such power, how formidable was the creature itself?

Could this truly be dragon blood?

Suddenly, the small bronze tripod acted as if it were alive, flying directly into his hand before swiftly vanishing into his palm.

Startled, Chen Feng felt the small tripod traveling up the Meridians of his right arm. A searing pain followed, making him feel as though he were being ripped apart.

The agony forced him to roll across the ground, screaming in pain. His skin and muscles began to split, and blood sprayed out as if he were being flayed alive.

After thirty minutes, the small tripod finished its journey through his Meridians and settled into his Dantian.

With a dull thud echoing in his mind, Chen Feng lost all awareness and fainted.

By the time he regained consciousness, deep night had fallen. Inspecting himself, Chen Feng saw that his clothes were reduced to rags. His skin was covered in blood and a layer of pitch-black, oily grime that gave off a repulsive stench. It was sticky and incredibly foul.

However, a sensation of warmth, lightness, and comfort—something he had never known—filled him.

Chen Feng performed an internal inspection of his body and suddenly cried out with exuberant joy.

He discovered that his Dantian, which had once been as impenetrable as iron, had finally been opened.

Though only a tiny space about the size of a fist had been cleared, the bronze tripod now floated within it. That drop of mysterious dragon blood tumbled inside the cauldron, glowing with crystal clarity.

Abruptly, a thread of energy, thinner than a thousandth of a hair, emerged from the dragon blood. it drifted from the center of his Dantian and began to circulate through his Meridians. This sliver of mysterious dragon blood carried immense power and vast True Qi. The blockages that had plagued Chen Feng’s Meridians were helpless against this dragon blood; they were instantly obliterated like smoke.

The agonizing pain returned, but this time Chen Feng endured. Gritting his teeth and holding his head high, a voice in his heart roared: "If I cannot withstand this pain, how can I ever reach the peak?"

He clenched his jaw until blood leaked from his mouth, his entire frame trembling, but he ultimately held on.

Waves of intense suffering battered him for half an hour until Chen Feng finally exhaled a long, pent-up breath.

The mysterious dragon blood surged through him at incredible speed, leaving his once-blocked Meridians completely clear.

If his Meridians had previously been like stagnant, clogged ditches, they were now wide-open paths. Though they remained narrow and thin, they were unobstructed. As True Qi raced through them, Chen Feng could actually hear the sound of rushing water!

Chen Feng was overwhelmed with excitement; his body was now brimming with True Qi.

As the tide of agony receded, a smile touched his lips, and his heart swelled with ecstasy.

Looking up at the sky, he cried out: "I can Cultivate now! My Meridians are open, and my Dantian is clear! I am no longer a waste!"

Tears streamed down his face. Without having lived it, who could truly grasp his suffering?

Since his youth, his talent had been abysmal. He had spent ten years in Cultivation with zero progress, enduring nothing but mockery and disdain. No one had ever valued him except for his Master. How deep was that wound?

But now, the path of Cultivation was finally open to him.

The True Qi circled his Meridians before returning to his Dantian, where it surged vigorously, refusing to settle down.

With a thought from Chen Feng, the True Qi in his Dantian erupted, leaping out to travel through his various Meridians. As the Dantian Qi moved, hidden traces of True Qi emerged from every corner of his Meridians to join the flow. This energy continued to swell, quickly growing from the thickness of a hair to the width of a finger.

These hidden pockets of energy were the result of Chen Feng’s persistent daily practice over the years.

Logically, since his Meridians were blocked and his realm never advanced, he shouldn't have been able to produce any True Qi. However, the Bedoro Leaf Golden Sutra he practiced was so profound that it not only built a rock-solid Foundation but also allowed him to generate True Qi out of nowhere, hiding it within his body.

He hadn't sensed it before because his Meridians were obstructed. Now that the flow was restored, everything naturally converged.

Chen Feng was stunned by the torrent of True Qi, feeling his body fill with potent strength.

A spark of delight lit up his heart.

"What an incredible tripod, and what miraculous dragon blood! Just a tiny sliver allowed me to break through immediately! Of course, the Bedoro Leaf Golden Sutra deserves credit as well. I used to think this scripture was useless, but I was clearly mistaken. It is truly marvelous to have helped a 'waste' like me develop True Qi!"

"And it seems the momentum isn't over yet; there is still more power to unleash!"

Chen Feng’s intent shifted, and the True Qi within him surged like a geyser.

Having reached the second stage of the Houtian realm, he wasn't satisfied; he aimed for the third stage!

To break into the third stage, a massive amount of True Qi was required. Chen Feng drew upon every ounce of energy in his body. The True Qi thickened until it was the size of a thumb, causing his body to vibrate violently once more. His Meridians groaned under the pressure as the True Qi surged like a rising tide.

He had successfully advanced to the third layer of the Houtian realm.

Chen Feng squeezed his fists, feeling the explosive power coursing through him!

He threw a sudden punch; a loud crack echoed as the air itself vibrated from the impact.

Chen Feng could sense that his strike carried a force of eight hundred jin—one and a half times the standard strength!

In the Houtian realm, the first layer grants 100 jin of strength, the second 200 jin, the third 500 jin, and the fourth 1,000 jin. Five hundred jin is considered the power of a tiger. Although Chen Feng had just entered the third layer, his strength had already reached eight hundred jin, far surpassing an ordinary cultivator at the same level!

He struck a tree near the grave, and the trunk—as thick as a bowl—was instantly snapped in two.

Chen Feng laughed toward the heavens, feeling completely revitalized.

How could he not be joyful, transforming from a talentless waste into a third-layer Houtian powerhouse?

Moreover, the absence of his Master’s body gave rise to a hopeful realization.

"Master, where have you gone? There is no body in this grave. It seems you are still alive and left this treasure for me. Knowing you aren't dead, I can finally be at peace. Rest assured, I will continue my Cultivation and I will find you!"

Now that he could finally practice, the discovery that his Master might still be alive brought him immense happiness.

Chen Feng searched the chest to ensure nothing else remained, then replaced the box and reburied the tomb.

Looking at the grime on his skin and smelling the foul odor, he gave a self-deprecating smile and muttered, "Chen Feng, you really are a mess."

He turned away, found a nearby stream, and jumped in to wash himself clean.

After scrubbing away the filth and changing into simple, clean robes, Chen Feng returned to sleep beside the grave.