Remarkable Progress

"Cock-a-doodle-doo!" After the neighbor's rooster crowed three times, each higher than the last, Xiang Yang, lying naked beneath the bedding on the earthen kang, suddenly opened his eyes. With a carp's flip, he sprang to his feet, his lower half standing tall and proud as his rather magnificent little brother swung and trembled wildly.

"Damn it, I actually fell asleep. I wonder if I wasted the medicinal effect. Hell, that was all hard-earned silver."

Xiang Yang muttered to himself in frustration. Yet when he rolled his neck and stretched lazily, a faint crackling of bones came from beside him, startling him again. The feeling in his body was so strange.

In the past, Xiang Yang would wake each morning groggy and bleary-eyed, sometimes aching all over. But this morning was different. His mind was clear, without the slightest drowsiness or urge to go back to sleep. His body felt light and at ease, every inch of skin and every muscle as though someone had massaged him from head to toe.

"It worked." Xiang Yang's eyes lit up with delight, but when he glanced down at himself, his face flushed again.

Though he was alone in the room, his sense of shame still burst forth. He hurriedly dressed, picked up the Wild Goose Feather Saber resting at the head of the kang, but the moment it entered his hand, Xiang Yang sensed something different from usual. Its weight seemed off.

The Wild Goose Feather Saber was three and a half feet long, reforged with Iron Essence, and weighed around thirteen jin. With its scabbard, it came to roughly fifteen jin—nearly twice as heavy as the standard official sabers used by the county government office. Yet today, Xiang Yang felt that it was somewhat lighter.

"No, it's not that the saber got lighter. My strength has increased. Carrying fifteen jin is easier and more effortless now, which is why I had that illusion. The Iron Crotch Technique's effects are truly remarkable."

Holding the saber in his left hand and stroking his chin with his right, Xiang Yang thought joyfully. Of the Iron Crotch Technique's three great effects, increasing strength was what he cared about and craved most, because it directly concerned his future combat power and whether he could complete his missions.

To test his guess, Xiang Yang walked into the small courtyard, took a deep breath of the fresh morning air, set down the Wild Goose Feather Saber, then turned and retrieved two stone locks from the corner, tools specially used to temper one's strength.

Holding a stone lock at each side, he spread his legs into a horse stance and straightened his waist and abdomen. Xiang Yang began lifting the stone locks up and down. One, two—each time he completed a lift, he silently counted it in his heart.

At his best in the past, Xiang Yang could only manage fifteen in one breath. But today was different. As if aided by the gods, he had already done more than twenty in a short time, and still had strength left to continue.

With two thuds, Xiang Yang suppressed his delight and tossed the stone locks into the corner. Turning around, he picked up the Wild Goose Feather Saber, drew it from its sheath, and practiced his saber techniques.

His cuts were more powerful than before, his thrusts swifter, his guards steadier. Before the crimson morning sun had risen, Xiang Yang freely wielded his long saber in the dimly lit courtyard. He performed each of the eight saber methods in turn, running through the sequences again and again, while his arms remained as steady as Mount Tai, without the slightest tremor.

At last, Xiang Yang sheathed his saber and let out a long breath of stale air. Then he suddenly clenched his right fist and examined it closely.

It was still fair and tender, with a baby-like dimple of flesh at the end of his thumb, but the strength truly was different. Today's Xiang Yang far surpassed yesterday's self.

The most obvious change was the force behind his saber techniques. The same moves, the same proficiency, but with thirty percent more strength, their power had increased by far more than thirty percent.

In other words, if yesterday's Xiang Yang could kill two strong adults armed with weapons, today he could easily defeat five such burly men. With his current strength, becoming a minor constable in Anyuan County would be more than easy. If he performed well, becoming a head constable in the future would not be impossible.

"And this is only the beginning. Once I complete the remaining two missions issued by the Wordless Book, I can obtain the Basic Breathing Technique, cultivate internal force, and learn the Hu Family Saber Technique. My strength will increase by multiples then. If I keep rolling this snowball, I'll become stronger and stronger. One day, becoming invincible beneath heaven and a legendary myth won't be impossible."

Xiang Yang's thoughts surged. Leaving everything else aside, at his current rate of progress, give him two months and his strength would increase by a thousand or eight hundred jin. He would surely slaughter Hu Qiang as easily as butchering a dog. What the hell was seventy-jin Big Saber? When the time came, he would smash him to death with Li Yuanba's giant hammers.

But Xiang Yang quickly came back to his senses. Such a remarkable improvement precisely showed how weak the original Xiang Yang had been. Moreover, according to the Iron Crotch Technique, the first cultivation yielded the greatest gains in strength. As he continued practicing, the increase would gradually diminish until he could advance no further.

It was like taking medicine—the body gradually developed resistance. And the Iron Crotch Technique's cultivation relied heavily on the nourishment of medicinal soup's vital essence. Comparing the two, the Iron Crotch Technique could only serve as a short-term means of increasing strength.

"Still, it's not bad. According to what the technique records and my own estimate, someone with extraordinary talent can gain the strength of nine oxen from practicing the Iron Crotch Technique, wielding a hundred-jin weapon as easily as an arm obeying the hand. On Earth, that would make him a fierce general who could charge through ten ranks and break ten formations, sending a thousand armies scattering in retreat. Xiang Yu and Lü Bu were no more than that. I may not have extraordinary talent, but once I cultivate it to its peak, killing Hu Qiang shouldn't be much of a problem."

Right now, Xiang Yang thought of nothing but killing Hu Qiang. Completing the mission was one reason, avenging Xiang Da Niu was another. But because of his strength these past few days, he had not dared dwell on it. Now that the Iron Crotch Technique had proven so potent, Xiang Yang saw hope and his intention rose again.

He turned to the water vat, drew a basin of water to wash up, then went to the latrine to relieve himself. Soon, Xiang Yang's stomach began growling wildly. After thinking about it, he realized that from last night until this morning, he had only drunk one bowl of medicinal soup prepared for the Iron Crotch Technique. As for the two jin of pork used to brew it, all its essence and blood vitality had melted into the medicine. Xiang Yang had thrown away the leftover useless meat without touching a bite.

"Time to make an offering to the temple of my five organs. Father has already been buried too. It's time to report to the County Yamen, collect my official uniform, formally take up my post, and look for a chance to investigate the hidden hand that plotted against Father."

After some thought, Xiang Yang returned to his room, removed his mourning clothes, and changed into a set of black cloth garments. He only tied a white strip of cloth around his upper right arm to show that he was still in mourning.

Just as he finished tidying up, loud banging came from outside the front gate, accompanied by a rustic shout with a drake-like voice. "Brother Yang, come out quickly! I collected your official uniform for you!"

The instant he heard the voice, the image of a sharp-faced youth with clever eyes flashed through Xiang Yang's mind. This was Fu Da Chun, the young companion who had once worked alongside him as a yamen runner and helper at the government office.

Fu Da Chun's ancestral home was Xiuyuan County in Qingjiang Prefecture, several counties away from Anyuan. His forebears had also been old farmers, but beginning with his grandfather's generation, fortune had favored them. They came to Anyuan County, put down roots, opened a small tavern, and made some money.

By the time of Fu Da Chun's father, he had spent some money to secure a position as a yamen runner in the government office. Though the pay was not much, he at least ate the emperor's grain, and his status was far from ordinary. More importantly, the local ruffians and hooligans in the county town generally did not dare cause trouble at the Fu family tavern.

Ever since Fu Da Chun turned twelve the year before last, he had stopped attending school. Instead, he followed his father around the government office all day, where he met Xiang Yang, who was a year older than him. From then on, they became childhood companions and close friends.