Chapter 340: Chapter 192: After All, How Many Truly Win the Deer, Unaware They Dream They Are Fish

Chen Kuang had promised the teacher of Freedom Mountain a poem in exchange for the opportunity to replace Zhang Zhizhou and enter the Pinggu Battlefield.

At this moment, the teacher came to claim that poem!

Chen Kuang took a deep breath and gazed at the boundless, tranquil sky.

Since returning from two thousand years ago, his understanding of this sky had completely changed... That unintentional sword of his had split the sky, revealing the scene beyond it, leading to a shift in his perception of the world.

And at the moment when he resonated with the Time Dao, Chen Kuang realized it was that very sword that caused the eventual downfall of the Daqi Dynasty.

Many involved in this matter may have known.

At the very least, Xi Mengquan undoubtedly knew, perhaps even being one of the orchestrators.

What about the others?

The current saints of this era, except for the Martial Saint, Mu Zhao, all seemed like scheming old schemers, hard to believe they didn’t know.

Especially this "teacher."

Three thousand students, a hundred generations of predecessors.

Although according to the experiences in the illusion of the Little Princess, the "teacher" did seem like an ordinary man from rumors, never displaying any cultivation, usually teaching with only a ruler in hand, relying entirely on his disciples’ protection, and even if he did act, his means were divine Spiritual Treasures.

—Just like now using this Sound Transmission Thousand Paper Crane, even ordinary people unable to manipulate Spiritual Qi could use it.

But to say the "teacher" truly had no cultivation, Chen Kuang would rather believe Mu Zhao had brains!

At this moment, what the other party wanted was not merely a poem.

And if Chen Kuang gave a poem, what he would gain surely wouldn’t just be praise or criticism, but... the teacher’s assistance!

Chen Kuang’s thoughts whirled for just a moment.

The punch from the Zhou kingdom’s Grandmaster had already landed, sweeping away layers of clouds!

The force seemed to carry a shadow of the Martial Saint, seemingly another "Outer Disciple" of the Martial Saint Pavilion who had once comprehended the Dao Transmission Stele.

Mu Zhao’s influence in Cangyuan was too big.

If a disciple of the "Martial Saint" died, the only one enraged would be the "Martial Saint." But if the "Martial Saint" died, the enraged would be far more than just hundreds and thousands.

Once today’s news spread, who knew how many would list Chen Kuang as a must-kill target.

Chen Kuang’s current state made it extremely dangerous to withstand this punch head-on.

But he surprisingly did not dodge.

Not only did he not dodge, he even stopped running, forcibly restraining his body, standing motionless.

The Grandmaster from the Zhou kingdom, though showing menace in his eyes, harbored a sliver of doubt in his heart.

This kid... looking to die?!

But it was only a sliver of confusion; his punch didn’t pause at all, carrying the power of a landslide, striking at Chen Kuang’s body! 𝙛𝓻𝒆𝒆𝒘𝙚𝓫𝙣𝙤𝒗𝙚𝓵.𝙘𝙤𝙢

Chen Kuang’s eyes flashed, controlling his body to hold perfectly still in an instant.

Then the bizarre occurred.

At the moment the Grandmaster’s fist touched Chen Kuang’s body, it seemed as though it was diverted by an invisible force, as soft yet irresistible as water, sliding aside!

"What?!"

The Zhou kingdom’s Grandmaster didn’t even react, his pupils contracting.

But his punch had already been thrown with full force, there was no pulling it back.

His whole body followed the force, flying out over a hundred zhang!

Chen Kuang smirked, seizing this momentary crossing, transforming into a stream of light, darting back a hundred zhang in the opposite direction.

This sidestep and return created distance between them.

It also bought Chen Kuang enough time.

What seemed strange to others, to Chen Kuang was expected, being the passive effect of the previously acquired "Wooden Man"!

["Wooden Man": When you remain motionless, others cannot launch an attack on you.]

If Chen Kuang remained still, others couldn’t act against him either.

But just now he’d moved, then suddenly halted, naturally leading to that bizarre event where the opponent’s attack was misdirected, missing him entirely.

Nevertheless, standing still wasn’t a long-term solution for Chen Kuang; he might stand still for a time, but not forever.

Those five Grandmasters were not the Zhou kingdom’s entire strength, and though Chen Kuang was unharmed, he couldn’t disregard those who stood up for him, willing to oppose Ji Chengtian.

He had to run.

Still, the bit of time he gained was enough to fulfill his promise with a poem.

In that fleeting moment, Chen Kuang thought of many verses befitting the "teacher" of Freedom Mountain, adhering to the virtues of a gentleman and instructing numerous disciples.

In all the rumors, some claimed he had no cultivation, some claimed he was the strongest of his time, some said he was a fame-seeker, others called him ambitious.

To Chen Kuang’s knowledge, he secretly dispatched disciples across various countries, just to find a wise king capable of unifying the world.

Almost as if seeking a chance to end the brutal world where the strong preyed on the weak.

Yet, upon seeing that sky, Chen Kuang knew this perpetual tumult would never resolve without addressing its roots...

So, Chen Kuang turned around, looking at the Thousand Paper Crane, at the chaotic crowd, and at this restless world.

Above the sky, snowflakes had begun to drift down without knowing when.

In just a moment, it became vast.

Chen Kuang reminisced about his past experiences, recalling his journey since traversing—once a stray dog, having his legs snapped by Li Hongling, to witnessing Mu Zhao transform into a brief, extinguished candle before his eyes.

In his mind, the renowned "Four Propositions at the Banks of the Luo" flashed by, but he quickly dismissed them.

To set the heart right for heaven and earth, to establish fate for the common people, to continue the lost teachings of the past saints, and to bring eternal peace to the world...

These were great and noble ambitions.

The "teacher" of Freedom Mountain surely deserved such words, maybe even pursued them as a lifetime goal.

But, that wasn’t what Chen Kuang wished to express to him.

Chen Kuang extended his hand, catching the paper crane, smiling as he spoke earnestly, word by word:

"This body, a simple hut in heaven and earth, worn by the vicissitudes of life, greying the temples..."

His voice nearly dissipated into the vast heights, yet as if carried far and wide by the roaring winds of the sky.

"Ultimately, how many truly gain the deer,

Unaware of spending the whole day dreaming of being a fish."

...

Freedom Mountain.

Peach blossoms like clouds, fallen blossoms scattered.

The world knew, even though the seasons swiftly passed in the human realm, the peach blossoms on Freedom Mountain never fell throughout the year. Countless students would plant a peach tree upon entering the mountain, adding vibrancy to this red cloud.

If a student dies, the peach tree withers and decays, turning into spring soil.

Who knows how long Freedom Mountain had existed, or how many illustrious figures had emerged, but the range of this peach forest barely ever changed.

Today, Freedom Mountain still resonated with the sound of study.

The teacher, sitting at the head, was a scowling, small, and thin old man, holding a Thousand Paper Crane, listening with lowered eyes.

Suddenly, he raised his head sharply, looking into the distance, and laughed heartily:

"Good! A true ’Ultimately, how many truly gain the deer, unaware of dreaming of being a fish all day’!"

The small, thin old man stood up, sighed, "Who gets the deer, who remains the fish, we shall soon see! If so, my staying hidden in this mountain becomes pointless..."

With a step forward, he appeared at the edge of Freedom Mountain’s peach forest in an instant.

Leaving many disciples looking at each other for a moment, mouths agape, revealing expressions of disbelief.

"Teacher... wasn’t the teacher supposed to have no cultivation?"

The small, angry-browed old man, standing at the boundary, slowly straightened his body, suddenly towering in stature.

Holding the ruler, without hesitation, he took another step forward.

With that step, the world itself shook, emanating the presence of a... Saint.

The teacher gazed down at his ruler, cherished it with a touch, then grasped it with both hands, snapping it forcefully.

"Crack!"

The ruler was broken.

Half turned into literary essence, the other half into honest righteousness.

The students of Freedom Mountain felt a shock through their Heart Spirit, all stood up, seemingly understanding something, bowing deeply towards the teacher’s departing direction.

"The students respectfully send the Saint out of the mountain!"

With the ruler broken, the teacher stepping into the world, was no longer the one teaching in the depths of the peach forest.

But a Saint.

Wen Sheng.