Sun Clan Martial Arts School

Early morning.

Mist hung like a thin veil, and white frost gathered on the grass.

Outside the courtyard gate, an ox cart rolled slowly forward. Yang Lao San, the peddler from Yang Family Village, sat on a plank between the two shafts, flicking the reins in his hands. Two bulging burlap sacks filled the cart bed behind him. Beside them sat Yang Jing and Yang Lao San's son, another boy about Yang Jing's age.

"Grandpa, Grandma, Mother, Aunt, Brother An, I'm leaving. You can head back now," Yang Jing called, waving.

Yang An stood outside the courtyard gate, watching Yang Jing recede into the distance on the ox cart, his eyes filled with a mixture of envy and wistfulness.

Unlike the others, this was Yang An's first time seeing Yang Jing off.

He had once harbored some hostility toward Yang Jing, feeling that their grandparents favored him.

But now, for the first time, this younger cousin had made him understand what it meant for blood to be thicker than water, for the tendons to remain joined even when the bones were broken. However much envy, jealousy, and hostility he had felt before, once Yang Jing showed him goodwill, a sense of closeness rose irresistibly in his heart.

"Grandpa, Grandma, Aunt, I'm heading back first." With that, Yang An ran home like a wisp of smoke.

"That boy must be off to train using the routine Jing laid out for him again," Madam Xue said with a smile.

Yang Jing leaned against a burlap sack, thinking about the training regimen he had arranged for Yang An.

Although he could not teach Yang An the Mountain Collapse Fist, he had spent enough time training at the Martial Arts Hall to learn some methods to Temper Qi and Blood. The simplest, most brutal, and most effective of these was lifting rocks.

Starting light and gradually increasing the weight of the rocks would temper his blood and qi, laying a foundation for formal martial arts training later.

"Yang Lao San, heading into town again?"

Just then, a slightly shrill voice rang out, and the ox cart quickly came to a stop.

The voice sounded familiar to Yang Jing, and he soon remembered it. Turning toward the front of the cart, he saw a group blocking their path. Their leader was none other than Feng Lei, the thug he had met yesterday.

"Ah, Boss Feng! What brings you out here for a rest today?" Yang Lao San hopped down from the shaft and greeted Feng Lei cheerfully. Then he pulled a palm-sized cloth bag from a burlap sack and tossed it to him with a smile. "These are mung bean cakes from Crisp Heart Studio, the Fei Family's Eldest Madam's favorite. She has me buy plenty in town every month. They taste wonderful. Try some, Boss Feng, and give your brothers a little treat too."

The Fei Family was a powerful landed family well known throughout Wazi Township, no less influential than the Ning Family backing Feng Lei.

As a mere peddler, Yang Lao San could hardly have any real connection to the Fei Family's Eldest Madam. She had simply bought mung bean cakes from him once. Now he was draping himself in her tiger skin to frighten Feng Lei.

Feng Lei caught the little bag and tucked it into his robe. "Much obliged, Lao San," he said with a smile.

Then he gave a small wave, ordering his men to clear the road, while he walked over to the cart bed himself. His gaze settled on Yang Jing. "So it's little Jing. Off to train at the Martial Arts Hall again? If you ask me, you should give it up. What the hell will all that training amount to? Will it let you stop this casserole-sized fist of mine?"

As he spoke, Feng Lei raised his fist in a threatening show of force.

"I don't know whether I can stop your fist, Boss Feng." Yang Jing shook his head. Then his eyes lit up, and he said eagerly, "But I've arranged to have drinks at Hundred Flowers Pavilion tonight with a few senior brothers from my school. Why don't you come along and see whether my senior brother who's developed Inner Force can stop that casserole-sized fist of yours?"

The corner of Feng Lei's mouth twitched.

Although he did not practice martial arts, he knew of the formidable reputation of Inner Force experts.

Never mind him-even Master Ning, who backed him, would not dare offend an Inner Force expert lightly.

He only dared bully the Yang Family because he was certain Yang Jing would never develop Inner Force. From the rumors he had heard, on average, only one in twenty or thirty people with a martial arts Root Bone became an Entering Strength expert.

"No need. I prefer staying in the countryside. Off you go." Feng Lei chuckled, the heavy flesh of his face twitching and making him look even fiercer. Yang Lao San's son shuddered in fear in the cart bed.

"Since you're not coming into town with us, Boss Feng, we'll be on our way. Until next time." Still smiling, Yang Lao San flicked his whip and drove the ox cart onward.

"Wait." After the cart had traveled sixty or seventy feet, Feng Lei spoke again.

His gaze landed on Yang Jing, and he grinned. "Little Jing, when you have time, talk some sense into your grandpa. Wouldn't it be better to sell those two mu of farmland to the north for silver? You need money to practice martial arts, and you surely need money to socialize with your senior brothers too. Don't you agree?"

Yang Jing pressed his lips tightly together, his expression cold and grim. He ignored Feng Lei.

"I'll visit your house again in a month. Hopefully everyone will be doing well then. Hahaha, off you go." Feng Lei waved with a soft laugh.

The ox cart rolled farther and farther away.

Before long, it had left Yang Family Village.

Sitting in the cart bed, Yang Jing frowned slightly as a sense of urgency rose within him.

Feng Lei and Master Ning behind him now had their eyes fixed on the Yang Family's two mu of Grade-A Farmland north of the village.

Those were the last two mu of Grade-A Farmland the Yang Family owned, and they played a major part in keeping the family afloat. Yet Master Ning's offer was less than a third of the market price.

If they refused to sell those two mu of Grade-A Farmland to Master Ning, the consequences...

Time passed slowly.

At noon, the ox cart finally entered the County Seat of Yuhe County.

Yuhe County's County Seat was broadly divided into the Inner City and the Outer City, each consisting of numerous wards.

After entering the County Seat, Yang Jing parted ways with Yang Lao San and his son and headed alone to Chengping Ward.

Upon reaching Chengping Ward, Yang Jing followed the road past courtyard after courtyard, finally stopping before a pair of vermilion gates.

A rectangular plaque hung above the gates, bearing four large characters: Sun Clan Martial Arts School.

Yang Jing approached the gates and pushed them open with practiced familiarity.

Beyond them lay a fairly spacious courtyard. Rows of weapon racks stood along both sides, holding sabers, spears, swords, halberds, axes, poleaxes, hooks, and forks.

The courtyard also contained stone barbells resembling those from Yang Jing's previous life, each made from a long wooden pole with round stones fixed to either end. There were also stone locks, stone blocks, wooden dummies, plum blossom posts, sandbags, and other equipment for tempering blood and qi and honing martial skills.

At that moment, more than a dozen bare-chested men were training in the courtyard.

"Junior Brother Yang, you're back?"

A somewhat rough voice rang out.

Yang Jing turned to see a tall, dark-skinned man approaching.

Information about this tall man surfaced in Yang Jing's mind.

His name was Liu Maolin, and he came from a family that ran a Medical Hall. Warmhearted and honest, he had studied under the school's master for many years and ranked fourth among his formal disciples.

"Greetings, Fourth Senior Brother." Yang Jing hurriedly cupped his hands.

"Mm. You spent a little too long at home this time. Don't let it interfere with tempering your blood and qi. Go practice your fists. Come ask me if there's anything you don't understand," Liu Maolin said.

"Yes, Fourth Senior Brother," Yang Jing replied with a nod.

Liu Maolin smiled and nodded, then went over to guide another disciple.

Yang Jing removed his shirt and walked bare-chested to a pair of stone locks, planning to work his blood and qi first as a warm-up.

Whoosh!

Yang Jing slowly exhaled, looking at the two dull gray stone locks before him. His bronze-colored back instantly tightened. Following the method in his memories, he bent his knees and leaned forward, gripping the mid-shin-high stone locks with his rough palms. His fingertips whitened with exertion, and veins instantly bulged along his forearms like coiling dragons.

"Hah!"

With that low cry, he lifted the stone locks steadily. His waist and abdominal muscles contracted into hard ridges, as though every inch of muscle was exerting itself.

Time passed slowly.

As he continued training, sweat dripped from Yang Jing's jawline. His skin flushed red, steaming with heat, as though an invisible current surged through his body, rushing into every limb and bone whenever he exerted himself. Even his gaze grew clearer and sharper.

"Junior Brother Yang, you're finally back!"

Hearing a voice behind him, Yang Jing set down the stone locks and turned.

Two men and a woman approached. All three looked slightly pale, and compared with the others, the two men's steps were noticeably unsteady.

"Senior Brother Lu, Senior Brother Zhang, Senior Sister Zhou." Yang Jing's brows creased slightly before a smile appeared on his face, and he went forward to greet them politely.

All three were disciples with poor martial aptitude who made little effort to train. If they still failed to develop Inner Force after the half-year mark, the master would expel them, and they would no longer be allowed to conduct themselves outside under the Sun Clan Martial Arts School's banner.

There were many small circles within the Sun Clan Martial Arts School, some of high quality and others of low quality.

The body's original owner had belonged to the same circle as these three. Rather than train properly, he spent his days going out every few days to drink with these disreputable friends in the company of courtesans.

What left Yang Jing most speechless was that the original owner, despite being desperately poor, had repeatedly swollen his own face to pass for a fat man, offering to pay these senior brothers' and sisters' bills merely to get closer to them and secure a little help in the future.

"Junior Brother Yang, you've gotten much sturdier." Senior Sister Zhou's gaze fell on Yang Jing's firm, full, smoothly defined muscles. Her eyes lit up in surprise.

Yang Jing had possessed muscles before, but they had never looked so explosive or exuded such strength. Though he was still far from matching some of the hulking disciples in the courtyard, he was certainly much stronger than before.

"Maybe the training I did at home recently paid off a little," Yang Jing said with a smile.

That was indeed true. He had not been idle during his half-month at home.

According to the ability described by the System Panel, he only needed to train a martial art to its peak to break through without any bottleneck.

His most important task now, therefore, was to bring the Mountain Collapse Fist to its peak.

"Training at home?" Senior Sister Zhou sounded surprised.

They never put their whole hearts into training even at the Martial Arts Hall. Would Yang Jing really train on his own at home?

Senior Brother Lu, however, paid no attention to what Yang Jing had said. Unless a martial artist developed Inner Force, he would at most be a little stronger than an ordinary person. Given Yang Jing's Root Bone, even if he trained as though his life depended on it rather than slacking off as usual, his chances of developing Inner Force would still be vanishingly slim.

"Junior Brother Yang, there's a gathering at Drunken Immortal Pavilion tonight. Senior Sister Qi might attend. Come along," Senior Brother Lu instructed out of habit, as though allowing Yang Jing to join them was a tremendous honor.

"Senior Brother Lu, I have something else to do tonight, so I won't be coming. Have a few extra drinks and enjoy yourselves."

Yang Jing spoke with a smile, though inwardly he was rather speechless. On the way here, he had told Feng Lei there would be a gathering with his fellow disciples tonight, and unexpectedly, it had come true. Still, given the habits of the original owner and these people, gatherings over drinks were commonplace.

The original owner's little circle was led by Senior Brother Lu, Lu Yang, not only because he came from a wealthy family, but also because he was close to Senior Sister Qi.

Senior Sister Qi's name was Qi Yun. She was the second-ranked formal disciple of Sun Yong, the master of the Sun Clan Martial Arts School.

From the original owner's memories, Yang Jing knew that Lu Yang, Zhang Kehan, Zhou Lin, and the original owner had all fawned over Qi Yun, hoping to get ahead by following her. But Qi Yun thought little of either the original owner or Zhang Kehan.

Lu Yang and Zhou Lin came from wealthy families and could offer Qi Yun certain benefits. Zhang Kehan, who came from an ordinary family, and Yang Jing, who came from a farming household, offered her nothing at all.

In the memories Yang Jing had inherited, the original owner had volunteered several times to settle the bill after gatherings in hopes of making Qi Yun regard him more highly. He had run up considerable debts doing so, yet had not received so much as a polite word from her.

Often, Yang Jing wanted to curse the original owner. Nobody thought he would amount to anything, yet he had stubbornly failed to show any backbone himself!

"Hm?" Senior Brother Lu frowned. He had not expected this farm boy Yang Jing to refuse even after hearing that Senior Sister Qi might attend.