On Lingxi Peak, inside the Grade-B No. 3 Training Room.
After taking the Marrow Tempering Pill, Yang Jing felt a vast yet gentle surge of energy coursing through his body.
The internal qi in his dantian was like kindling set ablaze, instantly becoming fierce and abundant. Every circulation carried an unprecedented surge of power.
He drew a deep breath, expelled all the stale air from his chest, and slowly tensed his muscles, immersing himself once more in the cultivation of the Mountain-Splitting Seal.
This time, every move carried his determination to break through. He would ride this momentum straight into the qi-nourishing realm.
His figure darted and shifted across the center of the training room. His Fist Wind roared like thunder, the fierce force of his punches stirring the surrounding air into tiny vortices.
At first, his punches still bore traces of deliberate control.
But as his internal qi melded more deeply with the Marrow Tempering Pill's medicinal power, Yang Jing's movements grew increasingly fluid and natural. He became wholly immersed in the ultimate state of cultivation.
His gaze was sharp as a blade, fixed on a point in the empty air, as though that were the direction he meant to advance.
When he lowered his waist and settled into a horse stance, the bluestone slabs beneath his feet trembled faintly, transmitting tremendous force.
He spun and punched, his robes billowing like drums with a sharp crack through the air. His forceful Fist Intent seemed ready to burst through the training room's stone door.
The Mountain-Splitting Seal was no longer merely fierce and unyielding as it had been before. Its hard power now held a measure of seamless harmony.
Internal qi surged along his meridians. When it gathered at his knuckles, it no longer poured out without restraint. Instead, it