The reason for closing one’s eyes during breath control and qi circulation is because many masters recommend it.

Strictly speaking, whether the eyes are open or closed, the effect on breath control is the same.

However, the reason for closing them is tied to focus and emotion.

With open eyes, one inevitably sees things, and that leads to emotions irrelevant to breath control.

Emotions affect the heart, and during the process where utmost concentration is required, mistakes or loss of focus can occur. That’s why—just in case—one closes their eyes.

To exaggerate slightly—

If a dying person were to suddenly appear before you, or you witnessed a moment that shattered your spirit, it’s possible you could lose your grip while carrying the heavy cart of internal energy. And if that cart happened to be on a downhill path, it could recklessly careen away. The place it crashes into would be your own meridians.

If the cart explodes, and your meridians rupture, that's Deviation of the Heart.

Many in Jianghu fell into Deviation of the Heart during breath control and were never able to open their eyes again. Through trial and error passed down from our seniors, most now seek enclosed places for qi cultivation and close their eyes there.

But I never closed my eyes when practicing the Zaha Divine Art at the summit of Mount Hua.

By now, open or closed, it makes no difference to me.

In fact, training with my eyes open became far more enjoyable.

On days I climbed Mount Hua early, I alternated between the Hundred Battles, Moonlight Cold Heart, and Golden Tortoise techniques. On days I arrived late, I trained Zaha Divine Art until dawn.

It felt like I was peeling off layers of violet haze that soaked into the heavens and earth and stacking them in my lower abdomen, one sheet at a time.

Some days I felt good. Other days, calm.

But fear, terror, unease, apprehension, and worry—those negative emotions had largely faded. Because they had faded, the chances of such emotions transforming into anger had also decreased.

Then... does that mean I’ve grown stronger?

Or have I drifted away from the mindset a fighting cock should inherently possess? As if the mindset itself had peaks and valleys, I had descended from the fighting pit back to a wooden dummy. In other words, it wasn’t just a continual climb—I began to notice the mindset of letting go as well.

Looking back, the Crazy Demon of my previous life didn’t accomplish much.

He simply survived.

I hated becoming weak in any mental state, so I trained the Zaha Divine Art with even more intensity.

As I focused all heart and will into the Zaha Divine Art—

Even while eating at Plum Blossom Pavilion—

I often missed what Eldest Brother and the Lecher were saying. Even while my eyes were open, eating rice, and drinking tea, I concentrated on observing what stirred within me. Fortunately, the two seemed to understand my state and didn’t mind.

Nor did I have the mental space to care about their training conditions.

Because fighting the Cult Leader—whether in my past or present life—was bound to be the hardest battle.

Moreover, time was limited.

By now, has Sambok reached the Cult?

Will the Cult Leader dawdle after receiving the report?

When exactly will he depart and arrive from the Cult? Because I couldn’t estimate that arrival time, I couldn’t afford to waste even a single day.

Whether the Cult Leader arrived early or late, I did everything I could.

In truth, the moment I learned the Cult Leader had protected Yoran, I let go of many things. The mere fact that a miserable young disciple was still alive had saved me in turn.

So the Zaha Divine Art became a gift I would give to the Cult Leader.

Strangely...

Though the Cult Leader and I were far apart, it felt as though we were sharing some thoughts.

If I turned out to be weaker, more pathetic, and worthless than the Cult Leader expected— 𝕗𝗿𝕖𝐞𝐰𝗲𝕓𝐧𝕠𝕧𝗲𝐥.𝚌𝐨𝚖

I had a feeling everyone at the Plum Blossom Pavilion would be dead. Because truthfully, the Cult Leader had already given me plenty of time.

If I ended up pathetic, it would be no different from breaking my promise.

So I honed the Zaha Divine Art as if polishing a treasured sword to present to him.

At times I wanted to kill the Cult Leader mercilessly with the Zaha Divine Art, and at times I prayed that it would make me a better martial artist.

Thus, even within me, night and day alternated.

Darkness would descend, then retreat before light. The light would flood in, then be stained again by darkness.

The human heart is unknowable like that.

Always changing—like twilight or early dawn.

By the time I became accustomed to practicing Zaha Divine Art with my eyes open, I had no idea whether it had been twenty or thirty days, or forty or fifty. There were times I slept in long stretches, and others when I spent three or four days sleepless.

I wandered between Mount Hua and the Plum Blossom Pavilion, forgetting time, day and night, life and death.

One day, the air felt so fresh that my body and heart tingled.

I noticed the flowers blooming by the roadside, waved to familiar children along the path, and wandered around Mount Hua with my hands clasped behind my back.

I tried to train Zaha Divine Art while walking, but it was futile.

It was difficult enough that I couldn’t predict when I might succeed. Still, there was no particular reason to give up.

Ultimately, I planned to attempt qi cultivation even in my sleep, though for now, my level was too low for that.

I wandered Mount Hua like a drifter.

Since neglecting my appearance felt improper, I occasionally washed in a stream and used the Muga Dagger to trim my hair and the shaggy beard that had grown out.

Mount Hua had so much to see that just walking around kept me busy.

After a dozen days of wandering, I finally realized that the place I often watched from afar was Mount Hua’s Lotus Peak. That meant the place I often trained was a location called the Southern Peak, and Lotus Peak was the western peak, slightly lower.

Only then did I cross the pale white rocks using light footwork and reach Lotus Peak.

Looking down from Lotus Peak, I saw pavilions and houses scattered in clusters.

As I looked closely...

Amazingly, I spotted Lady Cheolseom among the people. Though far away, I infused my voice with internal energy and called out.

“Lady Cheolseom, have you been well?”

Startled by my voice, Lady Cheolseom looked around in a fluster but couldn’t locate me easily. There was some fog that day. I waved my hand, scattering the fog, and looked down.

“Over here, madam.”

Lady Cheolseom, who had been scanning in every direction, let out a shout that echoed in my ears.

“...Is that you, Pavilion Lord? Pavilion Lord! Where are you?”

Soon, Lord of Yuhwagok and the White-Faced Lord came running from somewhere and began scanning the area before finally spotting me off in the distance.

Just the fact that we were meeting again after so long made me smile.

When I waved, the three of them shouted something and waved their hands repeatedly.

The distance was enough that we must’ve looked like ants to each other.

Apparently the White-Faced Lord had recovered some of his internal energy, as his voice reached me clearly.

“Pavilion Lord, come down!”

I called back to the familiar faces.

“No, I’m still training. Let’s meet later.”

“Pavilion Lord!”

They kept calling for me to come down, but I ignored it and leapt behind the cliff. After so many climbs and descents, walking down felt tedious.

So I jumped.

Though I had once ascended above the clouds, descending through them still felt unfamiliar.

There was no single leap that took me straight down Mount Hua, so I passed through the pale clouds, touched down on earth, and leapt again—repeating the descent. I engraved in my body the sensation of controlling my form in the air for extended stretches.

Each time I descended and returned to the Plum Blossom Pavilion—

Yesterday felt like today, and today like yesterday.

Having changed my training method, I gradually reduced the number of trips up Mount Hua. Instead, I began practicing light footwork during my walks.

In the past, I preferred wild, reckless running, but lately I focused on how to cover more ground with smaller movements. The key, naturally, was the combination of external and internal force—explosive power, ankles, feet, legs, waist, the entire body. With hands behind my back, I would suddenly launch forward and cover distance in an instant.

To ordinary eyes, it might look like I was using Shrink-the-Earth Steps.

But this was no Shrink-the-Earth technique.

It was a type of light footwork and step technique I learned through relentless struggle. Sometimes, I only took a single step—but that step held all the martial arts I’d learned thus far.

Truthfully, because my heart had softened compared to my Crazy Demon days—

I drove myself even harder through merciless training.

Back then, I was harsh toward others. Now, I was harsh on myself. Otherwise, I feared the essence of the Crazy Demon would fade away.

I was neither an ascetic nor a hermit.

I had no desire to reach enlightenment and turn my back on the world. Nor did I wish to become an immortal like the masters of old.

To avoid forgetting the essence of the Crazy Demon, the Pavilion Lord of Haomun, the inn boy, and Yi Zaha, I constantly kept watch over my heart as it turned more peaceful.

The Cult Leader is not my only enemy.

If I’m going to spend my old age slapping the faces of madmen, I must remain the Crazy Demon. One day, I realized the scenery of my daily walks had changed color—and snapped back to my senses.

Had the seasons changed?

Though I still hadn’t mastered qi cultivation while walking, I paused training the moment I returned to the Pavilion. People who train constantly eventually become fools—and I was already teetering on the edge of that.

With my hands behind my back, I was walking when I spotted Eldest Brother seated at a table for the first time in a while.

“Eldest Brother.”

He looked me up and down, then nodded.

“Welcome back.”

I sat beside him and looked around the Plum Blossom Pavilion.

“Has the # Nоvеlight # season changed?”

“Yes. And your training?”

“I think I’ll rest a bit now.”

“You were roaming around like a madman—this is enough.”

“Did I seem unstable?”

Eldest Brother nodded.

“I believed you would overcome it, so I didn’t interfere... but yes, you did look unstable at times.”

It must mean I wasn’t in a normal state, considering it had been so long since I’d even spoken with him.

While sitting with him, I turned to the Pavilion Lord and said:

“Pavilion Lord. The Demon-Slaying Sword...”

The Pavilion Lord went inside and returned with the Demon-Slaying Sword, handing it to me. I accepted it and said:

“Pavilion Lord.”

“Yes.”

“I’d like to see how your training has gone. Show me.”

Without a word, the Pavilion Lord walked to an open space, drew his sword, and demonstrated the sword technique he had shown before.

I watched quietly with Eldest Brother. Here and there, I could see movements that must’ve been corrected by Eldest Brother.

After one pass, the Pavilion Lord lightly bowed toward us.

At some point, the Lecher had come out and was also watching the demonstration.

After switching places with the Pavilion Lord, I walked forward, drew the Demon-Slaying Sword, and held it vertically.

I looked at Eldest Brother, the Lecher, and the Pavilion Lord and spoke.

“...Back then, at the Black Cat Pavilion, I once stabbed at falling petals and didn’t want to forget that moment. So I gave the sword art a name—Plum Blossom Sword Technique. And now I find myself at Mount Hua, and again, at a place named Plum Blossom Pavilion, performing it once more. Life truly piles on these amusing coincidences. But if you trace those so-called coincidences back far enough, you always find a mindset at their origin. Which means, in the end, none of this was coincidence. This is the Thirteen Plum Blossoms. If anything feels awkward, all three of you, point it out.”

The base form was the Pavilion Lord’s thirteen forms.

To that, I added the freedom I had contemplated since the Black Cat Pavilion. I swung the sword, hoping the laws would guide that freedom, and that the freedom wouldn’t deviate too far from the laws.

I returned my interpretation of the Thirteen Plum Blossoms to the Pavilion Lord.

I showed the sword technique to Eldest Brother and the Lecher as well, passing it on to them.

They had deeply influenced my life—they deserved it. Since it was an unfamiliar sword style, I repeated it many times. Even during repetition, I refined each move. In truth, sword techniques are simply variations of basic motions, and thirteen forms are not few.

With training, it could absolutely be used to fight masters of Jianghu.

I showed them as many variations as I could of the thirteen forms. When the three of them stared too intently, I stopped and asked:

“How is it?”

The Lecher looked at Eldest Brother, and Eldest Brother gave a big nod.

“It’s excellent—nothing lacking.”

The Lecher added briefly.

“It’s good.”

The Pavilion Lord kept nodding and said:

“Pavilion Lord, I’m doing my utmost to memorize it. Could you show more?”

Had the Pavilion Lord always spoken to me so respectfully? Whether he did or not didn’t matter. I nodded and said:

“I can show you as much as you like. This time, focus on the trajectory. More than rules or minute details, you must constantly accept the sword intent.”

“What is sword intent?”

“It means understanding what I’m trying to express through this sword technique.”

To make the trajectory of the Plum Blossom Sword Technique even clearer to the three of them, I stained the blade violet.

In the life I envision, there are no particular formalities. The moment the blade scattered large and small petals dyed in violet—

I took Sword Demon, the Lecher, and the First Sword of Mount Hua as my disciples.