Young Priest was stunned for a moment, then lowered his head to tidy up the bowls and chopsticks.

　　In Da Xuan, joining the army is not something you can do just because you want to.

　　Whoosh～

　　As he stepped out the door, a cold wind blew.

　　At this moment, the sky had already cleared, but the biting cold of midwinter was still piercing. Brian Smith couldn't help but tighten his clothes.

　　Whoosh whoosh～

　　In the courtyard, Old Priest was practicing his boxing slowly and steadily.

　　His movements were unhurried, his feet never more than a foot off the ground, and his punches never fully extended. Each time he was about to finish a move, he would gently shift, keeping the force within his body.

　　Brian Smith could tell that this was Xuangong Boxing.

　　It looked unhurried, but in fact, every move engaged all the muscles and tendons in the body. The training effect was no less than the internal martial arts he had learned in his previous life.

　　Brian Smith watched quietly as Old Priest practiced his boxing at a leisurely pace.

　　"Whoo!"

　　Old Priest let out a long, turbid breath, slowly stopped, and finished his routine.

　　"Master Master Brooks's attainments in Xuangong Boxing are rarely matched."

　　Brian Smith praised.

　　Anything, if practiced for decades without interruption, can reach a level unattainable by others.

　　After decades of practice, Old Priest's Xuangong Boxing had already reached a very high level.

　　It was far superior to the Xuangong Boxing he had learned from Young Priest yesterday.

　　"Young friend Smith, you flatter me."

　　Old Priest's face was rosy, sweat steaming from his forehead. "Speaking of boxing, a year ago, that elbow strike of yours nearly sent Old Taoist on his way."

　　Brian Smith showed no embarrassment at all and said with a smile, "That kick of yours, Master, is still fresh in my memory."

　　Although Xuangong Boxing is called boxing, its kicks are extremely fierce.

　　If Old Priest hadn't been old and his tendons and bones not what they once were, with that kick, Brian Smith wouldn't even have been able to use his elbow strike.

　　As they spoke, the old and the young exchanged a smile.

　　"Young friend, are you leaving?"

　　After their banter, Old Priest spoke.

　　"I've been out for a year. It's time to go back."

　　Brian Smith nodded. The journey had yielded nothing, and now that he had awakened his ability, he naturally wouldn't go elsewhere.

　　Compared to things that were intangible and uncertain, the ability he had awakened was a clear and extraordinary power.

　　If he wanted to survive, perhaps it would depend on this ability.

　　Looking at Brian Smith's calm face, Old Priest hesitated for a moment before saying:

　　"This past year, Old Taoist has consulted many ancient texts and medical books. Although there is no precedent for your illness, I did find an interesting record."

　　"Oh?"

　　Brian Smith looked at Old Priest.

　　"Do you know Adam Sullivan?"

　　Old Priest asked.

　　"Adam Sullivan? Master Sullivan, a grandmaster of his generation—of course I know of him."

　　Brian Smith was first taken aback, then nodded.

　　Three hundred years ago, when the previous dynasty fell and Da Xuan had not yet been founded, it was the darkest period in Da Xuan's history.

　　At that time, warlords divided the land, bandits ran rampant, and foreign powers coveted sacred artifacts. The people were in dire straits.

　　Adam Sullivan was born in that era.

　　It is said that Adam Sullivan was born with innate knowledge and was a martial arts prodigy. By his early twenties, he was already the top expert of his time.

　　He was indignant at the warlords' division and the people's suffering, so he gathered friends and traveled across Da Xuan, killing bandits, assassinating warlords, and even attempting to assassinate the leaders of foreign powers invading Da Xuan.

　　Unfortunately, no matter how divine his martial arts, he was still flesh and blood.

　　After more than a decade of activity, he was eventually surrounded and killed by warlords and foreign powers.

　　But his fame was immense. Even now, he remains a legendary figure in film and television.

　　The martial spirit of Da Xuan flourishes, in no small part due to his influence.

　　"Master Sullivan was a grandmaster, his martial arts already divine. It is said that on that day, he foresaw the encirclement by foreign powers, but because Fusang threatened the lives of an entire city to force him to go alone..."

　　"Facing those who tried to stop him, the master laughed, 'I, Gu, became famous in my youth, roamed freely in my prime, and die for my country in middle age—what greater joy is there?' Then, he went to his death with composure."

　　Old Priest remembered his predecessor with respect on his face.

　　"The master truly lived up to the title of grandmaster."

　　Brian Smith was silent for a moment and said:

　　"Now that more than half of Fusang has sunk, it can comfort the master's spirit in heaven."

　　Seventy years ago, a typhoon arose in the Western Sea, passed by Da Xuan without entering, and headed straight for Fusang.

　　That day, an earthquake and volcanic eruption occurred, and the typhoon blotted out the sky.

　　Though many nations aided and saved countless soldiers and civilians, Fusang ceased to be a nation, falling from a world power to the bottom.

　　"Old Taoist recently checked ancient texts and found a record..."

　　Old Priest pondered for a moment, then recited the record:

　　"Master Sullivan was born with innate knowledge, but was weak as a child, barely able to survive, and sought out famous doctors to no avail..."

　　"Weak as a child, barely able to survive..."

　　Brian Smith repeated Old Priest's words, pondering:

　　"Master, are you saying..."

　　"Master Sullivan was a remarkable man, and later generations have exaggerated and mythologized him. The records are half true, half false. Old Taoist doesn't know what to believe. Besides, after three hundred years, even if Master Sullivan's illness was the same as yours, what meaning would it have?"

　　Old Priest sighed. That was why he hesitated.

　　Telling him would only add to his worries.

　　Could he cross three hundred years to ask Adam Sullivan?