The Legend of Immortality in the Nine Heavens Season 2: Boxing Champion Xiao Tieshan

Prologue - The Boxer In the Jiuxiao Continent, there are thousands of races, and immortals and demons stand side by side. In this vast land, there are people who practice swords and defeat all kinds of magic with one sword; there are people who refine elixirs and create fortune in one furnace; there are people who understand the way of heaven and reach the top once they have enlightenment. But there is also a type of people who don't believe in swords, don't refine elixirs, and don't understand any mysterious and mysterious principles of heaven. They only believe in one thing - their own fists. Fists don't lie. The fist will not betray. When the fist is punched, it can be seen in an instant whether it actually hit something or missed it. Those who practice boxing spend their entire lives doing the same thing: making their fists heavier, faster, and more stable, until that fist can tear through wind and rain, smash boulders, shake mountains and rivers, and use it to block things that were originally unstoppable. Such people are called body practitioners. The holy land of physical cultivation is Xuanyuan World. The sky in Xuanyuan Realm has a gray background all year round, which is the sedimentation after countless physical practitioners have tempered their bodies here, fought fiercely and fought here for thousands of years, and muddied the spiritual energy of heaven and earth. The wind here is stronger than elsewhere, the water is heavier than elsewhere, and even the rocks under our feet are three times harder than elsewhere. Everyone who steps into Xuanyuan World can feel the ubiquitous sense of oppression at the first moment - as if the land itself is silently urging you, urging you to keep polishing yourself until you are enough to match its tenacity that still stands after hundreds of millions of tramples and tempers. In the middle of Xuanyuan Realm, there is a huge mountain range that winds for thousands of miles, called the Dragon's Back Mountain Range. The mountain range is like a sleeping dragon lying on the earth. The spiritual veins on its back are criss-crossed, and the spiritual energy is so rich that it almost condenses into mist in the air. And under the main peak of this mountain range, there is an ancient family that has been passed down for thousands of years. That is the Xiao family. The ancestor of the Xiao family, Xiao Pojun, used his "Army-breaking Divine Fist" to defeat invincible opponents in the Xuanyuan world. He even defeated the demon generals from ten directions in the demon realm in the ancient immortal-demon war, which shocked the sky. Since then, the Xiao family has been based on boxing from generation to generation. From generation to generation, the boxing skills have become more and more sophisticated. In this generation, the head of the family, Xiao Wanshan, has pushed the Xiao family's boxing to the realm of "Indestructible King Kong", which is so powerful that no one dares to challenge him in the fairyland in all directions. The young head of this generation of the Xiao family is a young man named Xiao Tieshan. He is twenty years old this year. He is at the first level of the Martial Saint Realm. He has perfected his physical training and is in the Great Soul King Realm. At this age and with such cultivation, he can be regarded as one of the best young geniuses in the entire Xuanyuan world. But what really makes Xiao Tieshan famous is not his cultivation level, but his seemingly endless majestic brute force that he has been born with since childhood. At the age of three, he was able to break a black iron chain with his bare hands. At the age of ten, he smashed a blue steel stone tablet about ten feet high with one punch. At the age of fifteen, he competed with an uncle in the clan who was in the martial arts realm and was able to knock him back three steps with brute force. All the elders in the hall looked at the young man who had turned the training ground upside down, and they were all amazed, their eyes full of expectation. Xiao Wanshan even declared in public - "My son will definitely be the most outstanding genius in the Xiao family for thousands of years." However, I don't know when, Xiao Tieshan's face no longer showed the kind of open and carefree smile that a young man should have. The boy who once sweated profusely on the training ground and would grin after smashing the blue steel stone tablet with a heavy punch, seemed to have quietly disappeared one day, and was replaced by a taciturn young man with an inextricable tiredness always locked between his eyebrows. Three years ago, his sister Xiao Qingqing went out for training and was plotted by an evil cultivator. Most of her soul was refined by the "Sword Spirit Transformation" evil technique. Only a trace of the remaining soul was barely protected by the scabbard of a divine sword that contained powerful sword intent, so that it did not completely dissipate between heaven and earth. In the past three years, Xiao Tieshan has traveled to almost every corner of Xuanyuan World, looking for famous doctors, but he has never been able to find a real cure. Every time I set off with hope, every time I come back with disappointment, the once sunny face becomes more angular, and the eyebrows become more deep and depressed that is inconsistent with my age. At this moment, the late autumn wind passed through the pine forests of the Longji Mountains, carrying the last crisp breath before the vegetation withered, passing through the bluestone-paved courtyard of the Xiao family's ancestral residence. The moonlight was very bright, the kind of cold brightness that is unique before winter. It outlined the outline of the entire house very clearly, and even the hanging cobwebs under the eaves were clearly illuminated. Xiao Tieshan stood in front of the door of the practice room. He has been standing here for a long time, so long that the night wind has messed up the broken hair on his forehead, so long that the exposed skin of his shoulders and back has been soaked by the coolness of the autumn night, causing a layer of fine goosebumps. The moonlight fell slantly, dragging his long shadow on the bluestone floor, intertwined with the shadow of the closed wooden door. He never opened the door and went in, he just stood there, looking at the closed wooden door, as if he was looking through the door panel at a past that he could no longer go back to. It was quiet inside the door. That kind of silence is not the silence of an ordinary night, but a silence with a painful aftertaste like a sealed wound. Ever since Xiao Qingqing's accident, the door has been locked by something that no one said but everyone understood, like a crack in an old piece of clothing that has been touched repeatedly but has never been closed. No one explicitly prohibited entry, but no one pushed it away. It stands there quietly, like a silent silence, reminding everyone who passes by that something has passed and cannot be reopened. Xiao Tieshan remembered clearly the last time he pushed open this door. That was three years ago. He had just returned from the Ten Thousand Beasts Mountain Range, covered in blood, and holding in his arms the scabbard that contained the last trace of his sister's soul. He rushed into the practice room and punched the wall one after another until his finger bones were exposed and his flesh rolled, until the entire wall was covered with his fist marks. Until he finally fell to his knees, pressed his forehead against the cold ground, and suppressed the heart-rending sob deep in his throat. Since then, he has never opened the door again. It wasn't that he didn't dare, but every time his hand touched the door panel, he could feel the sealed pain still waiting on the other side of the door, like a beast trapped in a dark room. As long as the door was opened a crack, it would pounce out and tear him apart again. But tonight, he didn't open the door. He just put his palm against the door, feeling the cold touch coming from across the old wood, and was silent for a long time. The feel of that door was very familiar to him - he had gone in and out of this door no less than ten thousand times since he was five years old. He remembered every mark eroded by wind and rain, every depression repeatedly rubbed by his fingertips, and every piece of wood grain that had been polished round and smooth by the years, just like he remembered the lines on his own palm. His fingertips moved slowly along the concave textures, as if he were using his sense of touch to re-read a passage that he had read many times. Then he turned around and walked away step by step along the bluestone path in the courtyard. He walked through the familiar corridor, and the lanterns under the corridor were slightly swayed by the wind, lengthening and shortening his shadow, like a monologue being adjusted repeatedly. He walked past the old locust tree. A thick layer of fallen leaves had accumulated under the tree, making a dry and crisp sound when stepped on. He walked past the closed window of Xiao Qingqing's room. The pots of flowers and plants she planted on the window sill had long since withered, leaving only dry brown stems trembling slightly in the night wind. He walked past the lamp that was still on in his father's study. The orange light passed through the window paper and cast a warm spot on the ground of the courtyard, like the only corner of the night that was not soaked by the coolness. His steps were unhurried and unhurried, with each step being firm and firm. He was like a person who was having a conversation with himself, picking up and looking at things from the past one by one, and then putting them down one by one. When he walked through the red lacquer gate, he paused and turned his head to glance at the plaque on the lintel that was still hanging after all the wind and rain - the words "Xiao Family" glowed faintly under the moonlight with vigorous writing. It was written by his ancestor Xiao Pojun, thousands of years ago. He didn't look back, opened the door and walked out. The Dragon's Back Mountain Range was like a silent backbone in the night, stretching from his feet to the distant horizon dotted with stars. The night wind passed through the mountains, carrying the unique crisp breath of pines and cypresses, carrying his soft words to himself far away, dissipating into the boundless night. His voice was not loud, as if he was speaking to himself, but also to the mountains where he was born, grew up, practiced boxing, got injured, stood up and fell down, fell down and stood up again - "I will no longer be a shadow." The wind blew behind him, blowing the unclosed red door, making a small and dull creaking sound, as if to see him off. The mountain road stretched under his feet, and the ancient pines on both sides cast dark shadows in the moonlight, like silent monuments, marking every step he took. From then on, Xiao Tieshan left the Xiao family. The place he wanted to go was the vast mountains deep in the Ten Thousand Beasts Mountains that he couldn't even explain, but was always calling him. There are dangers he has never seen before, there are opponents he needs to defeat, and there are also what he is looking for - the direction that belongs only to him. He didn't look back. Behind him, the lights of the Xiao family's ancestral residence were still on, the leaves of the old locust tree were still rustling in the wind, and the practice room that had been locked for a long time still stood quietly in the moonlight. Everything was as silent and complete as usual, as if nothing had changed - but everything had changed. Because the person who clenched his fist finally no longer just punched for others, he began to find a direction for his fist that truly belonged to him, just like the light leaking from the crack in the door, crossing the threshold overnight, extending to the farther horizon, and never being closed again. Intention: Xianxia