From the moment he took her and Huang Xuemei, she knew.
He didn't care at all about the grudges between them.
He only cared about his own thoughts and desires.
A complete bastard.
If it weren't for the fact that this bastard wasn't fickle and hadn't abandoned her for Huang Xuemei,
she would have found a way to sever ties.
And when he said those words, she was certain this bastard would actually follow through.
If she angered him again.
She didn't want to be a caged bird.
So all she could do was grit her teeth in helpless frustration.
Li Daoqiang didn't care. His attitude toward Huang Xuemei and He Qinghua was naturally different.
It wasn't just about their personalities; it was also, as he had once said,
one was Xiantian, the other a Grandmaster.
The gap was huge.
The weak had no right to demand much.
That truth held everywhere.
He took out a scroll, tossed it to He Qinghua, and said calmly, "Cultivate well and stay put."
With that, he turned and left.
He Qinghua opened her mouth, reluctant to see him go so soon.
But she stubbornly said nothing.
Gnashing her teeth, she wished she could bite a chunk out of that bastard.
Two breaths later, she looked at the scroll.
*Lingbo Weibu.*
Soon, her eyes lit up, a smile spreading across her face, her fatigue forgotten.
"Bastard, at least you have some conscience."
She muttered, then focused entirely on the scroll.
Elsewhere.
Li Daoqiang headed back to Black Dragon Stronghold. There was no need to explain why he gave *Lingbo Weibu* to the three women.
He hadn't passed on *Beiming Divine Art* to them, not because he didn't want to boost their strength faster.
But after delving deeper into the art, he realized it wasn't something just anyone could cultivate.
First, it required abandoning one's original martial arts.
Huang Xuemei certainly wouldn't. She was already a Grandmaster, her foundation long set.
She wouldn't sacrifice the big for the small by cultivating *Beiming Divine Art*.
The art could absorb others' power, seeming powerful.
But no matter how much power one gained, control was essential.
Divine arts weren't easy to cultivate.
Especially *Beiming Divine Art*, which offered shortcuts. One misstep, and the sudden surge of power would control the cultivator,
not the other way around.
Then it would be death by qi deviation or a complete mental shift, becoming a slave to power, ultimately dying anyway.
In the original story, look at Wu Yazi. He didn't recklessly absorb others' power—was it because he didn't want to be invincible?
He set up trials before passing on his power.
Why?
And then there were Duan Yu and Xuzhu.
Dig deeper, and you'd see they both had no interest in martial arts.
They were kind-hearted, deeply rooted in Buddhist nature.
That's why they weren't controlled by sudden power.
Beyond that, even if one never lost control, *Beiming Divine Art* wasn't invincible.
Huang Xuemei definitely wouldn't cultivate it.
Of course, aside from the shortcut of absorbing power, *Beiming Divine Art* was also an orthodox Daoist divine art, cultivable step by step.
But if he gave it to He Qinghua, she'd definitely take the shortcut.
What would happen then, Li Daoqiang didn't know, but he wasn't optimistic and wouldn't give it to her.
Qi Fang was kind-hearted and had no great ambition for martial arts.
She could cultivate *Beiming Divine Art* and wouldn't take the shortcut to absorb others' power.
But after thinking it over, he still didn't give it to her.
Simply put, *Beiming Divine Art* was somewhat sinister.
It wasn't something to casually pass on.
If she didn't take shortcuts, giving Qi Fang another divine art was better.
If something went wrong, regret would be too late.
In short, most divine arts couldn't be cultivated casually.
The more wondrous the art, the greater the risk.
Like *Dragon-Elephant Vajra Art*, *Nine Yang Divine Art*, even Shaolin martial arts.
All had risks.
Mastering power was never simple or smooth.
Qi deviation wasn't just talk.
And the term "qi deviation" often accompanied profound divine arts.
Returning to Black Dragon Stronghold, he stayed a few days, handling some matters.
Then Li Daoqiang set out again, heading for Dali.
By the time he reached Dali's Wuliang Mountain, the drama was about to unfold.
On a small path.
A young girl was hopping along, a snow-white mink on her shoulder, exuding intelligence.
She wore a green dress, her round face adorned with a small dimple by her lips.
Her face was like morning glow, eyes like autumn water, skin like congealed fat.
Her constant smile radiated sunny vitality, bright and charming, incredibly cute.
An aura of spirit surrounded her, making anyone who saw her feel fondness.
As she walked, suddenly, a figure in black, masked and fully covered, jumped out.
Holding a long blade, his exposed eyes were lecherous, fixed on the girl.
"Hehe, what a lovely young lass. Today, you'll keep me company."
With a lewd laugh, he closed in step by step.
Startled, the girl quickly backed away, her cute face showing some fear but also curiosity. She stared with big, expressive eyes and said, "Who are you? Don't come closer."
"Hehehehe, who am I? You'll know soon enough."
The black-clad man laughed arrogantly, pressing forward, his intent obvious.
"If you come closer, I'll have my mink bite you," the girl threatened with a pout.
"Go ahead, then," the man said dismissively.
She pursed her lips, glared angrily, and patted the snow-white mink on her shoulder.
The mink, highly intelligent, shot toward the man with incredible speed.
But the man was prepared. With a precise palm strike, he sent the mink flying into the bushes.
"Ah!"
The girl cried out in worry, about to rush to the mink.
But the man pointed, sealing her acupoints, freezing her in place.
"Hehe, what a pretty little beauty. I'm in luck today."
"Don't—don't you dare! I'm the daughter of Zhong Wanchou of Ten Thousand Calamity Valley. If you touch me, my father won't let you go," the girl panicked, her voice trembling with tears.
"Zhong Wanchou of Ten Thousand Calamity Valley? Heh, a nobody.
And I don't care whose daughter you are. Even if you were a Dali princess, I'd still have you today."
The man laughed arrogantly.
The girl grew more terrified, her big eyes brimming with tears, ready to spill.
Ignoring her, the man raised his blade with one hand and reached for her with the other.
Suddenly, a cold, commanding voice boomed.
"What a lecher. You deserve death."
As the voice rang out, a golden light shot through the air.
In an instant, it struck the black-clad man's chest.
He spat blood, his body flying backward.
Just as the blood was about to splatter the girl, a tall figure appeared beside her, one arm wrapping around her slender waist.
Effortlessly, he lifted her, spinning to dodge the blood.
The girl's eyes were dazed, her small frame leaning against the broad chest, looking up at the somewhat stern face.
She hadn't quite processed it.
"Are you alright?"
A calm voice broke the silence, snapping the girl back to reality.
Her face flushed crimson.
Feeling the hot hand release her, she jumped back like a startled rabbit, shyly lowering her head.
Then she looked up again, curious and delighted at her rescuer.
Her expression turned innocent and bright, her voice sweet and soft: "I'm fine. Thank you for saving me."
Li Daoqiang's expression remained indifferent. "Just a coincidence."
The girl felt a pang of disappointment at his detached tone.
Glancing at the motionless, breathless black-clad man nearby, she couldn't help but wrinkle her nose and huff twice, looking adorable.
Then she stared with big, expectant eyes and asked, "My name is Zhong Ling. I live in Ten Thousand Calamity Valley. What's—what's your name?"
Li Daoqiang looked at her, then smiled faintly, as if amused by something. "It's better you don't know."
"Ah! Why?" Zhong Ling asked, puzzled and more disappointed.
"Go home safely. If we meet again, I'll tell you," Li Daoqiang said flatly.
With that, he turned and strode away, vanishing in a few steps.
Zhong Ling froze for a moment, then ran after him, but couldn't catch up. There was no trace.
Finally, pouting, she trudged back in disappointment.
Finding the unconscious snow-white mink, she hugged it tenderly, then glared at the black-clad man.
She ran over and kicked him twice.
After a moment's hesitation, she turned back the way she came.
Half an hour later, Li Daoqiang's figure returned to the spot.
Beside him, the black-clad man, who had been lifeless, suddenly sat up.
Pulling down his mask, he rubbed his face hard, revealing the face of Blood Saber Ancestor.
With a simple, honest smile, he stood and bowed. "Chief."
"Mm, not bad," Li Daoqiang praised.
"All thanks to the Chief's guidance," Blood Saber Ancestor immediately flattered.
Li Daoqiang raised an eyebrow, glancing at him. Blood Saber Ancestor caught on and chuckled awkwardly.
Eager to earn merit and make amends, he suggested, "Chief, why not press the advantage? Miss Zhong will surely fall for you."
"What do you know?" Li Daoqiang withdrew his gaze, looking toward the direction Zhong Ling had gone. "I want her person, not her heart."
Blood Saber Ancestor was puzzled. If you don't want her heart, why play the hero?
Why not just take her?
You're a bandit.
No one would say you broke the rules.
Li Daoqiang knew Blood Saber Ancestor didn't understand, but he felt like explaining.
Thinking there might be more such scenes in the future, and Blood Saber Ancestor was perfect for playing the villain,
letting him know a bit would make things easier.
So he said calmly, "You know I despise the rape and plunder of women, right?"
"Understood," Blood Saber Ancestor replied promptly.
But inwardly, he grumbled. What a hassle.
Everyone knows you're a lecher.
Troublesome and pointless.
Of course, on the surface, he showed no sign of dissent, listening obediently.
(Chapter 2, thanks for the support.) ······