Chapter 112: The Script Carrying the Dharma Technique

If he had thought about it more carefully before acting—if he had truly considered the consequences—he might still... he might still have done exactly the same thing.

After all, Zhou Yi had no choice. The names Leng Feng and Peerless Island were like thorns lodged in his throat. Regardless of Leng Feng's motives—and there was no need to know them—his recent experiences made it clear that this man was far from friendly toward them. More importantly, Leng Feng’s strength was overwhelming; even after reaching the False Core stage, Zhou Yi could not say for certain that he would be a match for him.

Beyond that, there was a more critical reason: Peerless Island. The stronger Zhou Yi became and the more he learned, the more he felt an instinctive, deep-seated dread toward that name. Leng Feng’s personal strength might be significant, but the organization behind him—Peerless Island—was a source of absolute despair.

Zhou Yi did not believe the Peerless Island Kill Order was unrelated to Leng Feng. In fact, he was one hundred percent certain it had been issued because of him. After all, he and his brother had only ever encountered one person from that organization: Leng Feng.

A Peerless Island Kill Order! If not for his own "Golden Finger," he might have already perished. This was no joke; it was far from amusing. Though he had survived, he remained on the highest alert. Since the Kill Order had failed to claim his life, the matter was far from over.

Zhou Yi did not mind projecting malicious intentions onto Leng Feng. What kind of person issues a Peerless Island Kill Order after only a single meeting? Without a doubt, to Zhou Yi and his brother, Leng Feng was a villain. A powerful, influential villain becoming one’s mortal enemy was certainly not good news.

Zhou Yi did not know when Leng Feng’s next strike would come. The enemy was in the shadows while he remained in the light—he was helpless. The only thing he could do now was seize the gap between attacks to maximize his own strength. Only by becoming stronger could he ensure his survival against Leng Feng’s potential future assaults, and only then would he have the qualification to stand before him, slap him across the face, and tell him, "You are pathetic!"

But no matter what he might do in the future or how he might settle the score, those were concerns for another day. For now, he needed to ensure he actually had a future.

"Kinetic energy outside the body can be generated through movement—there are many ways—but inside the body, it seems impossible!" Zhou Yi’s eyes flickered, his thoughts racing. "Whether it’s the flow of blood or the micro-adjustments of bones, the kinetic energy generated is negligible. It’s completely useless!"

"Wait!" A flash of inspiration suddenly struck him. "Actually, even within the body, besides blood flow and skeletal adjustments, there are other ways to generate kinetic energy!"

"Even if it wasn't possible before, it seems possible now!"

Zhou Yi’s eyes brightened as he looked into his mental space. There, a vast, seemingly boundless river of energy flowed in an endless, surging current, illuminating the 365 acupoints that pulsed with brilliant light.

"This is also part of the interior of the body!"

As if discovering a new continent, Zhou Yi was overcome with excitement, his blood beginning to boil. Yes, this mental space was, in fact, part of his internal world. It was vast and spacious—what could he not achieve here? Compared to the outside world, this space was much smaller, but what task truly required a world’s worth of room? Perhaps some things did, but Zhou Yi certainly didn't need that much right now. The task at hand required very little space; for his mental realm, it was more than enough.

"Hiss!" Zhou Yi drew a sharp breath, staring at his mental space, eager to begin.

Boom!

As his will shifted, characters the size of buckets appeared in the void, radiating light and causing the surroundings to tremble. They floated in the air like stars, glowing and arranged in neat rows. Each character emitted an inexplicable rhythm, giving the observer a fleeting sense of enlightenment—as if they had grasped some profound truth—only for the feeling to vanish upon closer inspection, leaving them with nothing.

Zhou Yi stood frozen, his dark pupils suddenly shifting into a kaleidoscope of colors. As his gaze fell upon the characters, they were reflected in his eyes, and subtle, peculiar rhythms began to emerge from his consciousness.

The Mountain-Crushing Art. The glowing characters in the void recorded the very technique that the ancestor of the Mountain-Slayer Saber Sect had entrusted to Wen Renying to pass on to them. The "Ten Thousand Mountain Arts" already belonged to the realm of Dharma—in Zhou Yi’s understanding, they were divine, immortal-level techniques.

At this level, the profundity contained within the art far exceeded what mere text could express, though that did not mean it could not be recorded. It was simply that because the art was so profound, the text used to record it underwent a transformation, becoming infused with the art’s essence and vibrating with its rhythm—mysterious and unfathomable.

At this stage, the characters were no longer mere symbols. Because they recorded the existence of a Dharma art, they themselves became imbued with its mystery—a qualitative change. Such characters were known as "Dharma Script," meaning text that recorded the Law.

A Dharma art is recorded through Dharma Script, but not just anyone can record it. Because of the special nature of these arts, each character carries a portion of the art’s essence. All the characters together form the complete art. If any single character lacks sufficient profundity, it means the art is incomplete or flawed.

Dharma Script is no different from ordinary text in appearance; it is only the content it carries that distinguishes it. The depth of the recorded art depends entirely on the depth of the recorder's own enlightenment. Simply put, to record an art in its entirety, the recorder must have already mastered that art to perfection. Any deficiency would result in insufficient profundity within the characters, rendering the art incomplete.

There were 285 characters floating in the air, each representing a portion of the Mountain-Crushing Art. As Zhou Yi stared at them, a faint, ghostly light shimmered in his eyes. With each flash, the corresponding character in the void would also glow, its own light dimming slightly.

This signified that the trace of mystery contained within that character, pertaining to the Mountain-Crushing Art, was being absorbed by Zhou Yi. He did not stop, and the characters in the air continued to pulse with ghostly light, flickering like stars in the night, growing smaller and smaller with each passing moment.