Kill Me More Times, I’ll Become Invincible

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"Those inhuman creatures are indeed cunning. I am seriously injured and they stay up in the sky, ignoring me. It’s all in vain that I tried to persuade them."

Founding Emperor Yan’s determination lies within the Great Yan Imperial Court, and with the Great Yan royal family. For Elder Qingyi to give up this determination and abandon the family is like dancing in a danger zone.

"You want me to join forces with those inhuman creatures to kill the people of Jiu Province? They are underestimating me." Founding Emperor Yan looked at the Human Emperor Sword in his hand and said calmly,

"If one cannot show mercy, how can they be called a true king?"

The Human Emperor Sword was the sword he used in his early years.

Many years ago, when he was young and strong, when he rose up with the Human Emperor Sword in hand to fight alongside various heroes in uprisings, it was before he was known as the founding emperor of Great Yan.

He once held another title that was renowned in Jiu Province.

King of the people.

Founding Emperor Yan considered all the people in the world as citizens of the Great Yan Imperial Court, believing that a strong populace makes a strong nation. Even if someone surpasses him, he has the confidence to ultimately win in battle.

As the sword light flashed, Elder Qingyi’s entire body split in two, but the two halves turned into thin paper pieces, clearly a paper man.

The upper body of the paper man kept gazing at Founding Emperor Yan.

"Old Emperor, I have truly underestimated you."

"With honor, status, and face all lost, defeated by the enemy, it’s when you rebuild your martial arts spirit?"

"I must thank you for your guidance: victory and defeat are common in warfare," Founding Emperor Yan said lightly.

"Who hasn’t felt fear at times? But life is long."

Forty years ago, around the time of the Inhuman War, Founding Emperor Yan didn’t take action.

Thinking himself the only immortal in the human realm, the once invincible man from two hundred years ago witnessed the distinction between immortals and mortals.

The complicated emotions were not to be understood by outsiders.

In his prime, the first emperor of Great Yan would not bow down to the Nine Immortal Gates.

At over two hundred years old, the royal treasure of Great Yan chose to remain low-key.

And now, at three hundred years old, Founding Emperor Yan…

He lifted his big foot and thoroughly squashed the half of the paper man.

Even in old age, the spirit aims for far distances; for a martyr in twilight years, the strong heart persists.

After more than two hundred years without a single defeat, the first emperor of Great Yan, upon tasting bitter defeat, felt the urge to resist.

"Qiao Jin sees me as a mirror, why can’t I see him as one?" Founding Emperor Yan said to himself.

"The immortal’s journey is still long, let’s wait and see."

The six-hundred-year-old immortal Qiao Jin could set aside his elders’ pride to learn lightness skills from the Eight-armed Heavenly Dragon, swordsmanship from Earth Sword Immortal, and mysterious techniques from Martial Saint.

Why couldn’t he?

"Qiao Jin, you have your beliefs, and I have my pride."

Qiao Mu didn’t care much about the dynasty’s dominance, but in Yan Shenji’s eyes, this was his obsession.

"With the imperial palace undergoing such drastic changes, and having caused inhuman deaths with my own hands, Immortal Gate and Great Dao Sect will definitely take action…"

"Emperor Yonghe has passed away, now the most urgent matter is to crown a new ruler and stabilize the situation."

Thinking about this, Yan Shenji started to get a headache again.

The descendants of Emperor Yonghe? Although the prince had a group, with Emperor Yonghe’s favoritism, the princes he raised were actually not very useful.

…………………

When the sky was getting brighter, Qiao Mu and his group had already arrived at Dong Xinglin’ clinic on the outskirts of the Imperial Capital.

Inside the clinic.

"What? Dr. Dong went traveling? Why did he choose this time? He was here yesterday." Hai Siyuan was a bit impatient.

"When will Dr. Dong return?"

"The teacher didn’t mention when he would return. But before leaving, he did mention that if General Hai came looking for him, he would give him a gift that might help General Hai for another half day."

The middle-aged doctor handed a colorful box to Hai Siyuan.

Hai Siyuan hastily opened the brocade box, and upon seeing what was inside, his eyes widened in shock. He trembled and almost dropped the brocade box from his hand.

Qiao Mu stared at the embroidery box and saw a small piece of flesh the size of half a fist inside. It seemed to move slightly like a living thing, breathing in and out.

"Why are you so surprised?" Hai Wuya looked at his son with an unusual expression.

"Didn’t Dr. Dong tell you about this? Did he not mention his identity?"

"What are you talking about?" Hai Siyuan was confused.

"Is his identity related to the Wuji Association again?" Qiao Mu interrupted.

"I know about this. It’s a healing medicine from the Wuji Association called the Spiritual Meat Pill, used for treating physical injuries."

"But I didn’t know it was so miraculous that even someone like you, Hai Wuya, who is critically ill, could be kept alive."

"The Wuji Association’s Spiritual Meat Pill?" Hai Wuya shook his head.

"Ordinary Spiritual Meat Pill doesn’t have such incredible uses."

"But if Mr. Wu Qizheng personally crafted the Spiritual Meat Pill, it might be different."

Wu Qizheng?

Qiao Mu picked up the flesh in the embroidery box, carefully weighed and felt it, and came to a conclusion in his heart:

The original owner of this flesh had extraordinary qi and blood, although not as good as his, it was already equivalent to superb rank in martial artists.

Of course, even a superb martial artist with strong qi and blood cannot casually separate flesh and blood like Wu Qizheng does.

"Cutting your own flesh to save someone else’s life? What kind of living Bodhisattva is this?" Qiao Mu muttered.

This was due to Wu Qizheng’s special physique. Even Qiao Mu, who also practiced the Shape Changing Skill, could not do such a thing.

"Elder Lao, please keep this matter confidential." Hai Wuya smiled.

"Mr. Wu Qizheng has secretly left Wuji Association, he might be the only one who fooled the Martial Saint and escaped the seventy-two wise men."

"I understand."

"As for this bunch of Spiritual Meat Pills, it’s actually not very useful to me anymore, and I don’t mind losing half a day." Hai Wuya smiled and handed the velvet box to his eldest son.

Wu Qizheng’s Spiritual Meat Pills don’t mean much to Qiao Mu now.

After all, Qiao Mu also has Shape Changing Skill, and even though Wu Qizheng is a superb martial artist, his total energy and blood cannot compare to Qiao Mu’s. So, this piece of flesh is not very effective for Qiao Mu.

But for Hai Siyuan, it is a holy medicine for healing and extending life.

If used properly, it can save half a life.

Hai Siyuan understood Hai Wuya’s intention of entrusting him, so naturally he didn’t refuse.

"Hai Wuya, do you have any wishes left?" asked Qiao Mu.

Technically speaking, "Qiao Jin" was a stranger from the Qiao family who Hai Wuya was meeting for the first time, not someone he knew well.

But at this point, Qiao Mu stopped pretending.

When Hai Wuya heard this, he just smiled lightly and said:

"I have already had my wish come true."

His biggest wish was to see the "Human Path Sutra" come out, and now it had happened.

After seeing the "Human Path Sutra," his second wish was for it not to just be a martial arts theory, but to see strong people practice it to an advanced level.

So, Qiao Shuanggui and Qiao Jin, two generations of the Qiao family, started entering the royal palace.

Qiao Jin fought the founding emperor of Great Yan using ancient martial arts against the "Human Path Sutra" martial artist’s techniques.

He had already seen the result of this battle with his own eyes.

Now, he only felt that his wish had been fulfilled, and he had no regrets in life.

"The sky seems to be getting brighter, help me walk outside the clinic, Hai Wuya." Hai Wuya asked his eldest son for support and slowly walked outside the clinic.

Dong Xinglin’s clinic was located on the outskirts of Imperial Capital, where ordinary people without power or influence lived.

It was early in the morning, and on the streets outside the clinic, early-rising commoners were already walking in groups, preparing to go to the market.

These commoners lived far away from Imperial Capital.

The sudden events in the palace last night seemed unrelated to their lives, as they went about their day as usual this morning, busy and uneventful.

Hai Wuya silently watched this scene without speaking, his eyelids gradually getting heavy.

Hai Siyuan, who was originally standing by his side, couldn’t help but speak up at this moment.

"Father, have you been suffering all these years?"

"People in Imperial Capital say your name comes from ‘Learned Hai Wuya’, but your life story seems more like ‘Suffering Hai Wuya’."

This had been a question that Hai Siyuan had kept in his heart for a long time.

Since ancient times, it has been difficult to be both loyal and filial. At the age of twenty, he guarded a lonely city, and only left the desert after reaching middle age.

And his elderly father’s fate was no better than his own. He entered heavenly prison early and stayed there for a full thirty years.

Even before his death, he was captured by Emperor Yonghe, almost facing his third time in heavenly prison.

Hai Siyuan felt somewhat guilty in his heart.

"Study Hai Wuya? Suffering Hai Wuya?" Hai Wuya continued to smile faintly.

His life…

In his younger years, he was a scholar of the classics, pursuing the motto "Learn to be a worthy official." However, he failed the imperial examinations for many years.

Later, he met a young Martial Saint who advised him to go to Shaolin Temple to learn martial arts before pursuing an official career.

It was a quite complicated path to becoming an official. He had to set aside his scholar identity to focus on martial arts training, then join the imperial army after gaining recognition, and finally transition from a military official to a civil official.

Most people are not good at this.

But Hai Wuya, after facing many challenges, became a high-ranking official in his middle age, as a Minister of Rites.

Just as he started enjoying his new position, a war broke out.

When he entered the heavenly prison, he was a respected official, but when he left, he was an old man with gray hair.

Until this moment.

To outsiders, Hai Wuya’s life seemed busy and full of ups and downs. He held a high position, but didn’t get to enjoy it for long.

That’s why people called him "Sorrowful Hai Wuya."

"Others may say my life has been tough, but I don’t feel that way," Hai Wuya reminisced.

"When I was young, I studied the classics, dreaming of becoming an official. Eventually, I reached the rank of Minister."

"When I was middle-aged, I was in a heavenly prison, and I only wished to create the ‘Xumi Mountain King Sutra’, and later my wish came true."

"In my old age, with silver hair on my temples, reuniting with my son, witnessing the appearance of the ‘Human Path Sutra’, seeing the unparalleled masters who practiced it, surpassing the founding emperor of Great Yan."

"Everything I have sought in this life has been achieved with my own hands. At this point in life, what more is there to seek? What suffering is there?"

Hai Siyuan and the others listened silently as the old man talked nonstop, without interrupting.

His life is full of hardships, but who in this world is not facing challenges?

Hai Wuya, this is a fact that cannot be changed by wishes or attitudes.

With a determined heart, he saw no suffering around him, only contentment.

"Qiao Jin, Elder Lao. Let me ask you again, how far have you cultivated your ‘Human Path Sutra’?" Hai Wuya asked.

"The eighth level," Qiao Mu replied.

He started practicing the ‘Xumi Mountain King Sutra’ at the age of 60, and at 508 years old, he successfully advanced to the eighth level of the ‘Human Path Sutra’.

"The eighth level?" Hai Wuya muttered to himself.

"It seems like your physical body and energy have not reached a perfect and undamaged state yet."

"It seems that ‘Human Path Sutra’ has even more potential for progress than I initially expected."

He smiled slightly, watching the common people moving through the streets and alleyways, listening to their greetings and stories.

"The way of humanity will prevail," Hai Wuya said slowly.

"With me in the way of humanity, it will naturally prevail," Qiao Mu replied.

"The Qiao family members are always so spirited, generation after generation…" Hai Wuya’s voice grew lower and eventually faded away, his eyelids closing.

Outside the medical shop in the outskirts of the city, there was a new grave next to the apricot forest.

A gentle breeze passed by, causing the apricot trees to sway, and the apricot blossoms covered the ground like a sea, emitting a faint fragrance that floated in the wind.

The tombstone in front of the grave read:

Here lies the patriarch, Hai Wuya.n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

The epitaph reads: Embrace hardship and only through self-transformation.

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