Because it was summer and the weather was quite hot, the members of the "Qingshan" tour group could barely make it halfway up the mountain before they all started to feel exhausted. Each of them weakly found a clean step or rock to sit on, then grabbed their water bottles and desperately gulped down water! Seeing that they had stopped, even though the sunlight could no longer harm Henry Bolton in the slightest, he still habitually found a shady spot to sit down as well, taking the opportunity to listen to the tourists chatting about all sorts of things. To Henry Bolton now, everything the tourists said was so novel, and even their clothing amazed him.

So Henry Bolton sat in the shade, quietly listening to their conversations, while secretly observing this group of people who felt both familiar and strange to him. Suddenly, Henry Bolton felt his eyes light up as he noticed, under a large tree to his upper right, two very striking girls standing there. Both were wearing rather sheer plaid T-shirts and ultra-short denim shorts, with long legs and alluring figures that sparked endless imagination. Although Henry Bolton was already a hundred years old, having grown up deep in the mountains, he had never seen such a dazzling scene. Even his Daoist heart, cultivated for a century, was stirred. “Could this be what women are? Their legs look so beautiful, and the pair of mounds on their chests—why are they so strange, making my heart beat a little faster! No wonder Master wanted me to come down the mountain to train. Just these mortal women almost made me lose my Daoist composure. It seems I really do need to strengthen my cultivation!”

As Henry Bolton pondered this, he kept glancing at the two girls in front of him, especially the one on the right, who was a bit more mature, taller, with an oval face and cherry lips, probably around 24 or 25 years old. In fact, it wasn’t just Henry Bolton who was eyeing the two girls—many other men in the group were secretly peeking at them as well, especially a young man in a casual white short-sleeved shirt who looked rather handsome. His gaze would often slide over their long, bare legs before reluctantly looking away and swallowing hard. Although Grace Miller and Emily Parker knew that many men in the group were ogling them—especially that self-proclaimed handsome young man who stuck to them like a shadow—after they showed him a little something, he now only dared to steal glances from afar. But unexpectedly, a plain-looking Taoist who had joined halfway up the mountain was now brazenly staring at them, sometimes even fixing his gaze on their chests for a long time. If it weren’t for the elders at home warning them that Wudang Mountain was full of all sorts of people, some of them highly skilled, and with Grace Miller hinting to her several times, Emily Parker would have already gone up and given Henry Bolton a beating.

Poor Henry Bolton had no idea he’d been looked down upon by the two beauties in front of him countless times in their hearts. He was still curiously sizing up these legendary women, secretly comparing different parts of their bodies to his own, concluding that women’s bodies were weaker than men’s, but their chests were much more prominent. “I wonder if their lower bodies are the same as men’s?” A strange thought suddenly popped into Henry Bolton’s mind. His eyes, out of control, drifted toward the part of a woman’s body she could least tolerate being stared at.

Emily Parker could no longer hold back her anger and stood up furiously. Grace Miller was also annoyed at the young Taoist in front of them and no longer tried to stop Emily Parker. Poor Henry Bolton was still debating whether to use his clairvoyant powers to find out the truth, when he suddenly sensed a murderous aura. Although this aura was nothing to someone at his Nascent Soul stage, Henry Bolton was still puzzled as he watched the younger, petite woman approach him with a fierce look. Having never interacted with women before, Henry Bolton actually felt a bit flustered as Emily Parker drew closer, and a faint blush appeared on his fair face.

When Emily Parker saw Henry Bolton’s slightly panicked expression, she thought he was feeling guilty and about to run, so she unconsciously quickened her pace, rushed up to Henry Bolton, and swiftly reached for his neck. Although Henry Bolton was inexperienced in worldly matters, he could still tell the difference between someone attacking him and someone trying to hug him. His body moved as smoothly as silk, drifting lightly with the force of her palm, easily dodging Emily Parker’s strike. The movement was as quick as lightning; to outsiders, it looked as if Emily Parker had inexplicably rushed up to Henry Bolton and then punched the air above his shoulder. Only Grace Miller and the young man in white knew that Emily Parker had met her match. The young man in white had some training himself, but Emily Parker had subdued him with just such a light grab earlier. Now, seeing the Taoist standing there as if nothing had happened, it could only mean that he was also a master.

Emily Parker had been certain of her move, yet the annoying Taoist in front of her had dodged it with ease and was even smiling at her, which made her feel even more frustrated. So Emily Parker changed her tactics and used the Zhao Family’s Eighteen Fist Techniques. The Zhao Family’s Eighteen Fist Techniques were created by her ancestor Zhao Kuangyi, and when mastered, could shatter even the hardest granite. Although Emily Parker had only reached the fifth level, still some way from the ninth, her punch could already break several bricks at once, which was already very impressive in the eyes of ordinary people. Unfortunately, today Emily Parker was facing a legendary immortal of the mortal world—and a very powerful one at that.