Palm Print Leaves Humiliation, Sand and Stone Hide Killing Intent

Duan Tianbao put away the white paper with the red fingerprint, blew on the still-wet ink, carefully folded it, and put it in his chest.

He turned to leave, but then seemed to remember something and stopped. He casually placed his empty hand on the table, using it to push himself upright.

With a dull thud.

The elm wood square table, which had been used for many years, had its surface indented by an inch downwards. A clear five-fingered palm print was deeply carved into it, the palm lines clearly visible. The cracking sound of the wood breaking hurt people's eardrums.

Duan Tianbao seemed oblivious. He merely straightened his clothes, cast no further glance at Ye Qingxuan, and strode out of the courtyard.

Hu Jiudao and the iron-tower-like strongman followed closely behind. As they passed Ye Qingxuan, Hu Jiudao grinned, revealing a smile full of malice and mockery, and silently mouthed two words: "Next month."

The three figures disappeared at the courtyard entrance. The light in the alley was dim, and the wide-open courtyard gate looked like a silent wound.

Ye Qingxuan remained standing in place, unmoving, like a soulless clay statue.

"Click."

The bolt on the inner room door was pulled back, and Ye Caiwei, barefoot, ran out. She grabbed his thigh and, unable to hold back any longer, burst into tears.

"Ge... sob... Ge..."

The little girl's cries were heartbreaking, filled with fear and grievance.

Ye Qingxuan's body finally moved. He didn't look down, nor did he try to comfort her. He simply slowly raised his right hand and opened his palm.

On his thumb, the circle of bright red ink, like a bloody brand, outlined the whorls on his fingertip with extreme clarity.

What was this mark engraving? Submission, or something else?

He took a deep breath. The air, mixed with the scent of dust and sunset, filled his lungs but couldn't dispel the knot of frustration in his heart. He closed the courtyard gate with his backhand, bolted it, and then crouched down, pulling his sobbing sister into his arms.

"Don't cry, Nannan, it's okay now." His voice was soft and steady, betraying no emotion.

Ye Caiwei's small hands clutched his collar tightly, burying her face in his chest, trembling as she cried.

"They... they are bad people... they bullied you again..."

"Ge isn't afraid of being bullied." Ye Qingxuan stroked her back repeatedly. "They've already left."

He carried his sister to the table. Ye Caiwei's gaze fell on the deep palm print on the table. Her small mouth opened, and she forgot to cry.

The handprint was like a branding iron, searing fear into the wood and into her heart.

Ye Qingxuan reached out, his fingertips gently tracing the edge of the palm print, feeling the roughness of the broken wood fibers.

Such great strength.

Duan Tianbao had not revealed any true skill from beginning to end. With just this casual press, it was already like thunder and lightning. If this palm had landed on a person, broken bones and snapped tendons would likely be commonplace.

Body Tempering second level, Meat Refining complete, truly lived up to its reputation.

He was currently at Body Tempering first level, peak, with Indestructible Vajra Body, minor completion. He believed his strength far surpassed ordinary people, but in front of this palm strike, he was still like a firefly compared to the bright moon.

"Ge..." Ye Caiwei tugged at his sleeve, her small face full of worry. "Are we... are we going to give them money again next month?"

"No need." Ye Qingxuan withdrew his hand and held his sister tighter. "Ge will handle it."

He took Ye Caiwei back to the inner room, had her lie down, and tucked her in.

"Sleep now. When you wake up, everything will be fine."

Ye Caiwei looked at her brother, her red-rimmed eyes filled with trust. She nodded, closed her eyes, and long eyelashes still held tear drops.

After his sister's breathing gradually evened out, Ye Qingxuan quietly withdrew and gently closed the door.

In the outer room, the halo of the oil lamp cast his shadow on the wall.

He walked back to the table and stared at the palm print for a long time.

Humiliation, like a blunt knife, sawed back and forth in his chest. It wasn't the sharp pain of bloodletting, but a grinding torment that penetrated to the bone.

He slowly extended the thumb that had pressed the red ink and placed it in the center of the palm print, fitting perfectly.

He closed his eyes. Duan Tianbao's genial smile and Hu Jiudao's contemptuous gaze reappeared in his mind.

"Monthly payment," he whispered, his lips moving.

"One month at most."

"I will make this Fierce Tiger Hall break this rule for me!"

This vow was not shouted, but in his chest, it transformed into a fiercely burning fire.

For dinner, the table held a pot of thick porridge and two steamed white buns.

Ye Qingxuan's appetite was astonishing. Bowl after bowl, the porridge in the pot was finished in moments. He picked up the buns and devoured one in two or three bites.

Ye Caiwei sat opposite him, holding her small bowl and sipping her porridge. Her large eyes were fixed on her brother.

"Ge, you... you can eat this much?"

There was still more than half a bowl of porridge left in her small bowl. Yet, her brother alone had eaten what they, as siblings, would normally eat for two or three days.

"Practicing martial arts consumes energy, so I naturally need to eat more." Ye Qingxuan swallowed the last bite of the bun, and the hunger in his stomach slightly subsided.

Since achieving minor completion in the Indestructible Vajra Body, he had discovered that he was like an insatiable bottomless pit. The more vigorous his blood and qi circulated, the greater his demand for food became. His body was like a blazing furnace, requiring constant fuel.

This is also a considerable expense.

"Then... how many days do we have left of rice?" Ye Caiwei put down her bowl, a hint of worry reappearing on her small face.

"Enough." Ye Qingxuan ruffled her hair. "When it's gone, I'll go buy more. Don't worry, our Nannan won't go hungry."

After settling his sister, Ye Qingxuan bolted the courtyard gate and checked it carefully again.

He took off his shirt and went to the corner of the yard, untying the sack filled with fine sand.

The sand grains shimmered under the moonlight. He took a deep breath, grabbed a handful of fine sand, and covered his left arm with it.

Then, he extended his right hand and, following the mental cultivation method of the Indestructible Vajra Body, began to slowly rub.

"Hiss—"

The moment the fine sand touched his skin, a sharp, piercing pain, a hundred times more intense than with the cloth balls, instantly spread through his entire body.

It wasn't pain in one area, but pain from thousands of points, as if countless red-hot steel needles were simultaneously piercing his flesh.

Ye Qingxuan grunted, gritting his teeth.

His hands didn't stop; they pressed even harder.

The sand grains rolled and rubbed under his palms, making a "shasha" sound. At this moment, that sound was like torture.

Soon, the skin on his left arm was abraded, and fine blood beads seeped out. The blood mixed with the yellow sand, forming a dark red paste that clung to his arm. Every rub brought a new wave of tearing.

Pain.

Bone-chilling pain.

In his mind, the palm print on the table reappeared.

That palm print was the rule set by Duan Tianbao, the law of this turbulent world.

The weak could only be at the mercy of others under these rules.

To break the rules, one had to be stronger than the one who made them!

The force in his hands increased by another third!

He couldn't remember how long he had been rubbing, only that his arm had long since gone numb. The pain seemed to have faded, leaving only a mechanical, repetitive motion.

When he had circulated the mental cultivation method for one full cycle, he was completely drenched in sweat. His left arm was red and swollen, a horrific sight.

The moment he released his grip, exhausted, the scroll in his mind unfurled with a roar.

A single point of light was injected.

[Merit: +1]

Ye Qingxuan's movements stopped.

He panted, focusing his gaze inward on the scroll.

[Name: Ye Qingxuan] [Realm: Body Tempering First Level - Perfection] [Martial Art: Indestructible Vajra Body (Realm: Minor Accomplishment, Progress: Two Inches, Merit: 3/45)]

Only one point of Merit.

Not the two points he had expected.

He pushed himself up by his knees and walked to the water vat, scooping up a ladle of cool water and pouring it over his head. The icy well water made him shiver, clearing his mind a bit.

Why was this?

He lowered his head and examined his bloody, torn arm.

Could it be... the method was wrong?

He recalled the general principles of the cultivation method: after practicing with cloth, came sand grinding. The path was correct.

Perhaps it was because his body hadn't adapted to the new method yet, or perhaps this sand grinding method was inherently less effective than using cloth balls.

"Every bit of effort yields results; hardship leads to sweetness."

He remembered the essence of the Heavenly Machine Codex.

Since he had gained Merit, it meant this path was correct.

One point was one point.

As long as this path could be walked, what did it matter if it was slower?

In this turbulent world, patience was the most abundant commodity.

He washed the blood and sand off his arm. Under the clear water, the flesh began to heal rapidly, and the redness and swelling subsided considerably. After achieving Minor Accomplishment in the Indestructible Vajra Body, the toughness and recovery of his flesh were far beyond that of ordinary people.

He didn't train anymore.

The path of cultivation required both exertion and rest. He had reached his limit today; further training would only harm his foundation and be futile.

He returned to the house, changed into clean clothes, and lay down on the bed, but he had no sleepiness.

He kept his eyes open, staring at the dark ceiling.

The moonlight filtered in through the gaps in the window lattice, casting several pale white patches of light on the floor.

One month.

This deadline was a pledge he had made to himself.

Fierce Tiger Hall, Duan Tianbao.

He chewed over these two names in his heart, again and again, until every character was branded into his very bones.