Harmony Between Man and Nature

Sha Heming had no time to care for the golden dragon phantom in front of him and hastily turned around.

He didn’t see Chen Feng.

Instead, what met his eyes was a towering, golden Buddha, majestic as a mountain.

“What the hell is this?!”

The next moment, the Buddha’s palm came crashing down!

A chorus of sacred chants resonated through the air.

Ten Thousand Buddhas Paying Homage!

Before Sha Heming could even comprehend what was happening, he was slammed onto the stage.

The entire scaffolding of the stage then collapsed with a thunderous crash.

The audience and media reporters scrambled backward in panic.

Fortunately, the notaries were near the edge of the stage and only suffered minor falls, escaping serious injury.

Yang Honghui was the first to leap forward.

At this moment, he could only stare blankly at Chen Feng, who stood panting heavily in the center of the wreckage.

His mind reeled with shock.

“Another palm technique!”

“It must be a Heaven-tier supreme martial art.”

“And he’s mastered it to an incredibly high level.”

“The power of that last strike even surpassed his earlier Martial Dao Domain!”

“Could it be… Unity of Heaven and Man?”

“No! Impossible!”

As a Martial Arts Grandmaster, Yang Honghui immediately dismissed the absurd thought.

Unity of Heaven and Man was a realm one could only encounter by chance, not through cultivation.

It was a fleeting state achieved only under rare circumstances—specific environments and encounters—and nearly impossible to sustain.

Entering such a profound realm depended entirely on fate.

Chen Feng stepped out of the ruins of the stage.

By now, he was utterly exhausted.

His arms trembled slightly.

In that decisive moment, he had pushed himself to the limit, fully unleashing the Unity of Heaven and Man.

And he had even executed the ninth and most powerful form of the Buddha’s Palm.

That final attack had drained his vitality, leaving him completely spent.

Now, even walking felt unsteady, his legs weak beneath him.

Meeting Yang Honghui’s stunned gaze, he smirked and asked,

“President Yang! Does this prove I’m qualified to open a martial arts school?”

Yang Honghui nodded hurriedly.

“Yes! Absolutely!”

“Master Chen, may I ask… who is your teacher?”

Chen Feng chuckled faintly.

“It’s not that I won’t tell you.”

“It’s that I can’t.”

With that, he wobbled unsteadily through the crowd.

Yang Honghui sighed in exasperation.

“Fine, keep your secrets.”

But according to the Martial Arts Association’s regulations, to open a martial arts school, the headmaster must have at least one martial art mastered to perfection.

In truth, there was no requirement for vitality levels.

As long as one’s skill reached that level, they were qualified to teach.

After all, vitality depended more on innate talent.

Teaching required martial insight and experience.

Chen Feng’s abilities far exceeded the association’s standards.

The crowd instinctively parted to let him pass.

Once he was clear of the throng, Chen Feng immediately ducked into the nearest convenience store.

Bread and energy drinks—he barely waited to pay before wolfing them down.

Only after eating did he finally feel alive again, his strength returning bit by bit.

Back at the plaza in front of the Martial Arts Association building, the media and onlookers buzzed with speculation.

“What just happened?”

“I was too busy running when the stage collapsed—I didn’t see anything!”

“I saw a giant Buddha… it slapped the ground!”

“Damn it, my camera fell—I didn’t capture anything!”

“Check your footage! If anyone got that last moment, I’ll pay top dollar for it!”

…

In an instant, every journalist scrambled to find footage of that final, earth-shattering strike.

But with the stage’s collapse, the live broadcast equipment had been destroyed.

Online, chaos erupted across streaming platforms.

“Are you kidding me? Where’s the feed?!”

“Cutting off right at the climax? Unbelievable!”

“Was that really just a Martial Disciple-level fight?”

“Footage! We need footage!”

…

All anyone had seen was the Buddha’s phantom hand descending—then the screen went black.

Yet the impact of that moment left countless viewers in awe.

Xiang Jingpeng shot to his feet, his face a mask of disbelief.

He was certain—Chen Feng’s final move was another Heaven-tier martial art.

“A single man, wielding two Heaven-tier martial arts…”

“And his mastery is this profound?”

“But how is his vitality still so low?”

Before he could ponder further, the live feed flickered back to life.

What followed made his expression darken.

Yang Honghui appeared on-screen, stepping toward the wreckage.

There, Sha Heming lay unconscious, soiled and reeking.

Yang Honghui checked his pulse and announced,

“He’s alive.”

“But his dantian is shattered. His martial path ends here.”

Xiang Jingpeng hurled his phone to the ground in fury.

Though the War God Martial School had no shortage of prodigies, Sha Heming had been their brightest in years.

They had invested heavily in his training, aiming for provincial glory and a shot at the national top ten.

Now, all that was ashes.

Their resources—wasted.

This year, the War God Martial School stood no chance in the national rankings.

Meanwhile, Xiao Ruohan stirred groggily in her mother’s arms.

The first thing on her mind was Chen Feng’s palm strike.

“The Dragon-Subduing Palm… had an eighteenth form?!”

“That bastard Chen Feng! I trusted him, and he still held back!”

But it was too late for regrets.

She had already joined the War God Martial School.

Chen Feng would never teach her that final technique.

A bitter thought crossed her mind—her first martial art, incomplete.

Still, it didn’t matter.

The War God School had countless techniques and elite instructors.

Even without Chen Feng’s teachings, her talent would carry her to greatness.

“Ruohan, you’re awake.”

Her father’s voice snapped her back to reality.

Her mother helped her up.

Taking in the chaotic scene, Xiao Ruohan frowned.

Where was Chen Feng?

Why was the stage destroyed?

And where was her senior brother?

Why were her parents covered in dust?

“Mom, Dad… what happened here?” she asked, bewildered.

Her mother scowled.

“That Chen Feng’s doing, of course!”

“After knocking you out, he went and demolished the stage!”

“Your father and I took a nasty fall.”

“And that wretch even crippled your senior brother!”

Xiao Ruohan froze.

“Senior brother… was crippled by Chen Feng?”

“How?!”

“Senior brother’s a Martial Artist! Chen Feng’s just a Martial Disciple—there’s no way!”

She had no memory of the fight after being struck down.

All she felt was resentment—Chen Feng had robbed her of witnessing the climax.

In the hospital, Jin Youxi anxiously stared at the TV.

“What’s going on?!”

“Where’s Master?”

“If that War God School guy’s finished, Master must’ve won.”

“But where is he now?”

Frustrated, she scoured her phone, desperate for any footage of the final moments.

Even Liu Weiwei, still bedridden, felt a pang of urgency.

She needed to know how it had ended.

When she’d seen Xiao Ruohan struck down, an unexpected satisfaction had surged within her.

Without realizing it, her heart had taken Chen Feng’s side.

In the end, Jin Youxi had no choice but to call Chen Feng. Only after confirming that her master was safe and sound did she finally let out a sigh of relief.