Warrior Traits

Seeing this, Yang Heng was slightly shocked.

He had not used his qi and blood to defend himself just now. Relying solely on the defense of his skin and flesh, the sharp stone had only left behind a white mark when it scraped across him. It was truly astonishing.

With skin and flesh this tough, he could probably use it to fend off blades and swords. Coupled with the protection of qi and blood, even an ordinary person armed with a blade would be unable to break through his defenses.

He could also withstand the attacks of an ordinary Blood Brave Disciple.

If a Martial Artist attacked with a blade, Yang Heng was not certain whether his tough skin and flesh could withstand it.

Blocking one or two strikes might not be a problem, but if there were too many, his life would surely be lost.

After all, he had never cultivated a defensive technique, nor was his body impervious to blades and spears.

Yang Heng guessed that his skin and flesh had become so tough for two reasons. First, it had much to do with the Marrow Cleansing Pearl's constant tempering. Second, cultivating the Vajra Fist to Minor Accomplishment had also tempered his body to a certain extent.

The two effects combined had allowed him to possess the defensive strength of a Blood Strengthening martial artist ahead of time.

The fist manual also recorded all sorts of wondrous traits possessed by Blood Strengthening martial artists.

First, their skin and flesh resembled cowhide—tough and difficult to injure with blades or swords.

Second, Martial Artist's Pressure had a powerful suppressive effect on martial artists below the Blood Strengthening Realm.

Of course, if someone had cultivated cowhide, they could offset this pressure, and their strength would not be diminished.

Third, they possessed enduring stamina. Climbing mountains, crossing rivers, and traveling a thousand li in a day posed no problem. They could also hold their breath underwater for a quarter of an hour.

Fourth, their vitality was immensely powerful. So long as they did not suffer fatal injuries such as a severed head or a shattered heart, no matter how grave their wounds were, as long as their qi and blood remained, a thread of life could be preserved.

The various records in the book about the traits of martial artists made Yang Heng's blood boil.

The vitality of martial artists was even more tenacious than that of cockroaches. It was simply unbelievable.

What freaks!

But Yang Heng hoped that he, too, could become such a "freak."

Once one became a martial artist, aside from fellow martial artists, it would be difficult for anyone else to pose a mortal threat to them.

After all, their vitality was simply too tenacious. They were practically not the same species as ordinary people, as though they had mutated.

The power of martial artists deeply shook Yang Heng's heart. He silently encouraged himself: he would certainly become a martial artist, and that day was not far away.

With an indestructible foundation, he would boldly smash through the gates leading to the Blood Strengthening Realm and stride into it with his head held high.

When a person immersed themselves in something, time often passed quickly.

In the blink of an eye, the sun was already setting in the west, and night was about to fall.

Seeing this, Yang Heng slapped his forehead, filled with regret.

He had been so busy cultivating that he had completely forgotten about renting a place to live.

After leaving the medicine shop, he no longer had anywhere to stay. He could not possibly sleep in the mountains every day, keeping nature for company.

The purpose of his cultivation was to live a better life.

Yet he had ended up living like a wild man instead. That would not do.

Yang Heng hurriedly found a hidden spot and buried his fist manual, most of his silver, and the medicinal herbs he had brought down from the mountain. Then he strode toward Qingyang Town.

He had to find a place to settle down before nightfall.

Hurrying along at top speed and even using his Lightness Skill, Yang Heng finally found a residence he greatly liked before dark.

It was a small courtyard with a single entrance. The house was covered in dust and clearly had not been cleaned for a long time, but Yang Heng did not care. He had chosen the courtyard entirely because it contained a large open space where he could practice martial arts.

Moreover, the courtyard was located in an extremely remote area, at the northernmost edge of Qingyang Town. The surrounding area was filled with abandoned earthen houses. Even beggars and refugees were unwilling to live here, simply because it was close to the Mass Grave. Living here gave people the creeps.

This completely removed Yang Heng's worries. Practicing martial arts in the courtyard would not be noticed by anyone, saving him the time spent traveling between his residence and the mountains, and leaving him with more time to cultivate.

In such a place, housing prices were extremely low. The rent for a year was only two hundred Copper Coins, not even as much as he spent on a single meal.

Without the slightest hesitation, Yang Heng signed a one-year contract and officially moved in.

Before moving in, he spent some money to hire several sturdy women to thoroughly clean the courtyard inside and out.

The four women worked for a full hour, and the courtyard was transformed completely. At last, it looked fit for someone to live in.

Night had fallen completely. There was no time to buy furniture or daily necessities, so he could only wait until tomorrow to go into town and purchase them.

There was a deep well and an old tree in the courtyard, near the wall.

The well water was clear and icy, refreshing to the heart and spleen. Yang Heng rinsed himself off, then leaned against the great tree and fell into a deep sleep.

The night passed without incident.

The next day, daylight blazed brightly, and the Red Sun rose into the sky.

Sunlight slanted through gaps in the leaves and fell across Yang Heng's face. Startled awake by the light, he rose and stretched. After washing up a little, he headed toward the center of town.

Whenever he went out, he used his qi and blood to contract his essence, changing his physique so that he did not look so outstanding and could blend into the vast sea of people without drawing attention.

After all, in the eyes of the medicine shop, he was currently a dead man. Though the news had not yet made its way back, he could not afford to let down his guard.

Moreover, he had delivered medicine outside the town many times and frequently entered and exited the town center. Many people recognized him. If he did not alter his appearance, he could easily be identified.

If word made its way back to the medicine shop, he would be in trouble.

To be safe, changing his appearance was the best choice.

The moment he stepped into Qingyang Town's most prosperous district, a familiar feeling washed over him. Looking once more at the crowds on the streets and the stalls by the roadside, Yang Heng had a completely different feeling.

Freedom!

Unrestrained and unfettered!

At that moment, everything Yang Heng looked at seemed beautiful. Even the air appeared to be filled with the fragrance of freedom.

To celebrate his freedom, Yang Heng deliberately ate ten large meat buns, leaving his mouth gleaming with grease.

On top of that, he wolfed down five bowls of hot tofu pudding in a row. Red chili oil was drizzled over the steaming, tender white tofu pudding, then topped with chopped scallions. The taste was simply heavenly, so fragrant that it felt as if he might swallow his tongue into his stomach.

Yang Heng was not satisfied yet and continued on his carnival journey.

He ate another two braised pig trotters and drank three bowls of sweet soup in succession before finally feeling full.

Yang Heng left the snack street in satisfaction and headed to the shops to buy furniture and daily necessities.

He spent the entire morning on these trivial matters.

Fortunately, the results were satisfying.

Yang Heng bought a large rosewood bed, silk quilts, and several sets of satin clothes in various colors. He also hired people to renovate the doors and windows, while professionals were brought in to repair every corner of the courtyard walls.

After spending an entire morning on it, the courtyard finally had the feeling of a home.

If there were a mistress of the house now, life would be perfect.

Yang Heng thought happily.

Considering that practicing martial arts for too long would leave his body tired, Yang Heng specially bought a rattan recliner and placed it beneath the old tree. Whenever he was exhausted from training, he could lie down on it and rest.

Gazing at the various furnishings inside and outside the courtyard, Yang Heng murmured, "This is life. This is the meaning of practicing martial arts."

His goal had always been clear. He practiced martial arts so that one day, he could live a wonderful life and enjoy himself.

He had practiced martial arts for so long—could he not enjoy himself a little?