A Beautiful Dream

The sea breeze whispered as the cannonballs struck Yang JingTian, the waves they spawned utterly annihilated Zhou Dongwei and his warships, turning even splinters of wood into dust.

No one was spared. Yang JingTian himself couldn't comprehend the astounding burst of power he displayed at that critical moment. All he knew was that the cannonballs must not hit the Fengshen, and that Bai Yun and Ziyan must remain unharmed.

Being hit by cannonballs was no trivial matter. Although Yang JingTian had shielded his body with his internal energy at the moment of impact, the explosive shockwaves still rendered him unconscious.

He drifted on the ocean, oblivious to the passage of time, as if cradled in a gentle dream within the embrace of the sea, lying there comfortably.

Just lying there.

Time was lost to him until Yang JingTian suddenly "awoke". He did not immediately open his eyes, as his mind was still shrouded in confusion.

It was all the fault of the ferocious cannonball, which had blasted him into unconsciousness.

Yang JingTian calmed himself, subtly guiding his spirit and internal energy through his body. His martial arts were not only intact but had become purer, more fluid, much like a rebirth through desire's fire.

Such a sensation was incredibly exhilarating. Yang JingTian felt his internal energy was intact. This was his most reassuring fact, as without his martial prowess, even life itself couldn't fulfill his journey to become a legend in the martial world.

Eager to embark on his epic odyssey, Yang JingTian opened his eyes to a gray wall and simple furniture within. He realized he was lying on a wooden bed.

"Where am I? What place is this?" Yang JingTian exclaimed aloud.

"You're awake," came a melodious voice as a girl of about fifteen or sixteen entered his field of vision.

"Ah!" Yang JingTian cried out in alarm when he saw the girl, for her face was entirely covered in pustules, red and swollen, a sight both shocking and dreadful.

Upon seeing Yang JingTian's reaction, the girl hurriedly covered her face with a cloth, apologetically saying, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to frighten you."

Observing the girl, Yang JingTian felt a pang of regret. Perhaps his reaction was too intense. Regardless of her appearance, she was after all his savior. It was far too unkind to have reacted so harshly, potentially wounding the young girl's feelings.

If judged solely by her figure, the girl was actually quite shapely and irresistibly enticing.

"Might I ask where this place is and why I am here?" Yang JingTian inquired softly.

"This is Haining Village. My mother and I found you by the seaside; we thought you might have suffered a shipwreck," the girl explained. After speaking, she picked up a bowl from the table and walked over to Yang JingTian, offering it to him.

Truly feeling peckish, Yang JingTian asked somewhat sheepishly, "How long have I been unconscious?"

The girl replied tenderly, "For a day and a night."

"A day and a night?" Yang JingTian was taken aback, pondering if he had been adrift at sea for days before being found, surely making it over three days of unconsciousness.

"The young master should eat something first," the girl suggested gently.

Uttering his thanks, Yang JingTian took the bowl and began to wolf down its contents voraciously. Within moments, he had devoured every morsel. Observing this, the girl handed him another full bowl, cautioning, "Eat slowly, be careful not to choke."

Realizing his manners, Yang JingTian slowed his pace, embarrassed, he confessed, "I'm sorry, I was terribly hungry."

"It's alright, have some more," she said as she filled another bowl for him.

It wasn't until after the sixth bowl that Yang JingTian finally felt full. The food she had prepared was indeed delicious.

"I'm full now, thank you, miss," he said to the girl.

Dark hair and a statuesque figure were marred by the scars and pustules on her face. Yang JingTian felt a twinge of sympathy looking at her.

A woman cherishes her looks above many things; for many, beauty is esteemed beyond even life itself.

After eating his fill, Yang JingTian got up from the bed, stretched his limbs, his tall frame and well-toned muscles a testament to his imposing stature. His skin glowed with a deep bronze hue from the sea breezes, a perfect display of health and strength. His shoulder-length black hair and distinctive facial features—thick eyebrows, large eyes, a prominent nose, chiseled cheeks, and slightly upturned rosy lips—gave the impression that he was always smiling.

When Yang JingTian smiled at the girl, she bashfully looked down, murmuring, "Rest if you need to, call for me if you need anything." And with that, she quickly left.

Yang JingTian, no longer wishing to waste the day in bed, dressed himself and stepped out of the room, finding the girl conversing with a young woman at the doorway.

Upon seeing Yang JingTian emerge, the girl stood and asked, "Why not rest a little more?"

"I've slept plenty already," he replied with a smile, introducing himself, "My name is Yang JingTian, a native of Jinsha Village."

Blushing slightly, the girl replied, "I am Meng Rui, and this is my mother Meng Lin." As Meng Rui spoke, Meng Lin turned to face Yang JingTian fully, and he was momentarily breathless.

She was stunning beyond his imagination.

Judging by Meng Rui's age, Meng Lin would be well into her thirties, but the woman before him looked no more than the early twenties. Exquisite and captivating with a beauty that could overthrow cities, her supple form and tender skin radiated the ripe allure of womanhood.

Her hair bound elegantly behind her head, stray tresses cascading like waterfalls beside her temples, her rounded face, arched brows, sparkling phoenix eyes, and rosy lips framed a visage both majestic and alluring. Her full limbs exuded the vitality of a mature woman. Her ample bosom seemed on the brink of defying the constraints of her garment.

Bathed in sunlight, Meng Lin radiated a charm that left Yang JingTian transfixed. Had not Meng Rui informed him otherwise, he would have mistaken her for her daughter's sister.

Every move of Meng Lin's was refreshing and enchanting. Her kindness reflected in her eyes, serene as still water, gentle, and pleasing. Her disposition, combined with her smile and those star-like eyes, was enough to lead one into sweet oblivion.

She embodied the idealized woman of a man's dreams: tranquil, graceful, and tender.

His heart racing, Yang JingTian knew for certain that this beauty was the very cause of the tempest within him.

The lure of this beauty captivated him deeply on his first day venturing into Central Plains.

As for the dangers and duels of the Jianghu, they seemed so trivial now in his eyes.