Chapter 112: Precipice, Thousand Sky Crossing

“Bang!”

The two opposing palm forces, which should have clashed, were thrown off by Ji Ming’s distraction from the illusory sound, causing his strike to miss by half an inch and land solidly on the Zen Master’s palm.

The Zen Master turned his face, wearing a smug expression as he looked at Ji Ming’s palm, confident he could dodge it.

But instead, he saw a cloud of dust scattered into his eyes, driven by Crane’s energy, hitting them sharply, causing pain in his eyeballs.

Ji Ming’s left shoulder absorbed the palm strike, the force pushing him upward at least four or five feet. Bruises quickly formed where his palm was struck, accompanied by a slight venomous toxin emerging.

Ji Ming had no time to worry about his wounds. Seeing that the dust had blinded the Zen Master, he suddenly thrust both claws downward.

“Clang!”

“Clang!”

Though struck by the palm, only two metallic clangs rang out from the Zen Master’s body. Ji Ming’s expression shifted, surprised to find that this Tiger Horse Zen Master had mastered a secret protective skill.

The next moment, five large-headed Bhikkhu ghosts under the Zen Master’s control spread their arms, kicking with short legs, running vertically along the cliff toward Ji Ming.

“Stone Dragon, you’re not very smart,” the Zen Master sneered, clutching the cliff and commanding the five ghosts to seize him.

The five ghosts dashed wildly along the cliff. Ji Ming no longer attempted to push off the palm to ascend.

He knew that continuing this way would drain his energy until exhaustion and death. He had to triumph through cunning.

“My arms are itching,” Ji Ming frowned, unable to ignore the rebellious demonic mutation on his arms. Pressing his toes hard against the cliff, he leapt outward into the floating clouds.

“Suicide?” The Tiger Horse Zen Master was stunned. The five ghosts lost their target and circled on the cliff.

“There must be a trick.”

Just as the Zen Master prepared to recall the ghosts, he felt a force hit his body.

At first, relying on his protective skill, he was indifferent, but the force lacked any strength, sticking to him like glue. Then, suddenly, a massive pulling force surged.

Caught off guard, he was yanked over a yard beyond the cliff’s edge, falling into the floating clouds.

The terror of falling from such height overwhelmed the Tiger Horse Zen Master, who howled hoarsely, flailing like a frightened woman.

“Five ghosts, hurry, hurry!” he shouted.

At his command, the five ghosts merged together, forming a dark cloud that surged downward, cushioning his fall and greatly slowing his descent.

“Hah~”

Lying on the shadowy cloud, the Zen Master panted, his butt raised, eyes wild with fear.

---

“Madman, he must be mad.”

The Zen Master still felt the force clinging tightly to him, dragging him downward.

This was no innate energy—it was the Crane Control Technique of Mount Taiping.

“He’s planning to die with me,” the Zen Master thought.

He no longer concealed his skill, tossing the string of beads in his hand.

Sixteen jade beads scattered like a starry sky, each suspended in midair, glowing and spinning before shooting downward in a cluster.

Ji Ming severed the force binding the Zen Master and summoned his claws. Energy condensed into a protective wall around him, blocking the sixteen jade beads, which struck the “wall” but could not penetrate.

“Just mere magic tools,” Ji Ming thought, relieved.

Suddenly, his vision darkened. Opening his eyes, he saw the Zen Master rushing downward from the clouds like an arrow, aiming straight for him.

“Cough.”

Ji Ming coughed violently, spitting up much blood.

Looking down at his abdomen, he saw a single hand-shaped palm, like a dagger, piercing through the thick energy wall, its fingertips embedded deeply in his flesh.

“Haha, your energy is too scattered,” the Zen Master’s plump face twitched with joy.

“You can’t fly after all!” Ji Ming said.

“Hmm?”

The Zen Master was flustered by Ji Ming’s strange remark. He prepared to drive his palm deeper, when suddenly a circle of radiant light bloomed behind the boy’s head.

“Ah!”

The shock from the treasured artifact made the Zen Master scream instinctively and pull back his palm.

The radiant light swept across, instantly shattering the shadowy cloud behind him. Each large-headed Bhikkhu ghost dissolved, all five lost in the blink of an eye.

With the five-ghost transport technique broken, the Zen Master spat a mouthful of reversed blood.

Seeing the radiant light still sweeping, the Zen Master pressed his hands together and resolutely bit off a small piece of his tongue, spraying his tongue’s yang energy and hot blood to break the light.

Ji Ming’s formidable White Bone Heart-gathering Pearl was broken, shaking him deeply. Then, with a fierce gesture, he fully unleashed his demonic nature.

Feather sacs bulged on his arms, and from them, countless feathers swiftly emerged. In an instant, his arms were covered in feathers, and a pair of black wings spread open with a brush.

The airflow brushed over the wings, lifting them, which slowed his entire body’s descent.

With a “whoosh,” the Tiger Horse Zen Master and Ji Ming passed each other as they fell, the Zen Master continuously screaming with a mouth full of blood.

---

Seeing Ji Ming with glowing wings, the Zen Master begged for mercy incessantly.

Ji Ming flapped his wings steadily, also falling, but compared to the Zen Master’s speed, he was almost stationary.

Human wings differ greatly from the crow-birds of the upper world.

Luckily, Ji Ming had flight experience; otherwise, his sudden mutation—though it produced wings—would be ineffective at slowing his fall.

“Whoosh whoosh~”

The wind howled fiercely. Below, many talisman papers fluttered, brushing past Ji Ming’s body.

Looking down, Ji Ming saw the Tiger Horse Zen Master frantically pulling out talismans, but none could save him from the deadly fall.

“Stone Dragon, brother, I was wrong, I was wrong!”

The Zen Master’s pleading voice was carried by the roaring wind, followed by the crisp, clear sound of a watermelon smashing on the ground.

Ji Ming flapped his claws and wings wildly, desperately braking his descent, but still plummeted fiercely.

In the final moment, he gathered all his energy, his young face flushed, veins bulging, as his aura suddenly expanded in all directions.

In an instant, before the cliff, among wild grasses and shattered rocks, debris swirled as if stirred by a sandstorm.

Midair, Ji Ming resembled a massive wind ball wrapped in energy flow, inside which a figure with spread wings was visible.

The outward energy slowed his fall, allowing Ji Ming to land lightly.

Touching solid ground, Ji Ming’s soul still felt as if falling, not yet grounded.

After a long while, he collapsed with a thud, letting out a few laughs of survival.

He raised his pair of black feathered claws and wings, studying them repeatedly.

Then, looking at the unrecognizable pile of shattered corpse, the Heart-gathering circle of light behind his head spread and swept over the remains. The rapid chewing sounds echoed from his mind.

The surge of yang blood nearly caused his White Bone Heart-gathering Pearl to fall back into a magic tool.

Indeed, this heterodox yin treasure was most vulnerable to yang forces—this time, he suffered a great loss.

He sifted through the meat fragments, pulling out a storage pouch. Opening it, he found few valuable items.

It seemed everyone understood the rule that treasures should never be carried casually.

Ji Ming didn’t pause for a moment. He stamped two Horse Armor talismans on his aching, numb wings and flew toward the Hengshan territory.

His flight was erratic, sometimes high, sometimes low, occasionally plunging like a kite with a broken string, yet he stubbornly kept flying.