Duan Tianbao put away the white paper stamped with a red fingerprint, blew on the still-wet ink, carefully folded it, and tucked it into his clothes.
He turned to leave, but seemed to remember something. His footsteps halted. He casually pressed his empty hand against the table, using it to push himself upright.
There was a muffled thud.
The elmwood square table that had been used for years sank nearly an inch. A clear five-finger palm print was deeply engraved in its surface, every palm line plainly visible. The crack of splintering wood stabbed painfully at the eardrums.
Yet Duan Tianbao seemed utterly unaware. He merely straightened his clothes, did not spare Ye Qingxuan another glance, and strode toward the courtyard entrance.
Hu Jiudao and the Iron Pagoda-like burly man followed close behind. When he passed Ye Qingxuan, Hu Jiudao bared his teeth in a malicious, mocking grin and silently mouthed two words: "Next month."
The three figures disappeared through the courtyard gate. The light in the alley was dim and yellow, and the wide-open gate resembled a silent wound.
Ye Qingxuan still stood where he was, motionless, like a clay figure that had lost its soul.
Click.
The latch to the inner room was drawn back. Ye Caiwei ran out barefoot and threw her arms around his leg. Unable to hold it in any longer, she burst into loud sobs.
"Big brother... hic... big brother..."
The little girl's crying was heart-rending, brimming with fear and grievance.
Only then did Ye Qingxuan's body move. He did not lower his head or try to comfort her. He merely slowly raised his right hand and spread his palm.
Around his thumb, the ring of vivid red seal paste looked like a blood shackle, outlining the whorls on his fingertip with startling clarity.
What had this mark carved into him—submission, or something else?
He drew a deep breath. Air mingled with the scents of dust and sunset poured into his lungs, yet it could not disperse the knot in his heart. He turned and shut the courtyard gate, secured the latch, and only then crouched down and gathered his sobbing sister into his arms.
"Don't cry, Nannan. It's all right now." His voice was soft and steady, without the slightest ripple.
Ye Caiwei clutched his clothes with all her strength, burying her face against his chest as her whole body trembled with sobs.
"They... they're bad people... They bullied you again..."
"Big brother isn't afraid of being bullied." Ye Qingxuan stroked her back again and again. "They've already left."
Holding his sister, he walked to the table. Ye Caiwei's gaze fell on the deep palm print in the tabletop. Her little mouth fell open, and she even forgot to cry.
That handprint was like a branding iron, searing fear into the wood—and into her heart.
Ye Qingxuan reached out and gently brushed his fingertips over the edge of the palm print, feeling the roughness of the broken wood fibers.
What tremendous strength.
From beginning to end, Duan Tianbao had never revealed even a fraction of his true power. Yet that casual press had already possessed the force of thunder and ten thousand jun. If that palm had landed on a person, breaking bones and tearing tendons would probably have been nothing out of the ordinary.
The second Body Tempering layer, Meat Refining completed—its reputation was indeed well deserved.
He had now reached Body Tempering First Layer Perfection and achieved minor mastery of the Indestructible Vajra Body. He considered his strength far beyond that of ordinary people, yet before this palm, he was still no more than a firefly beside the bright moon.
"Big brother..." Ye Caiwei tugged at his sleeve, her small face filled with worry. "Will we... will we have to give them money again next month?"
"No." Ye Qingxuan withdrew his hand and held his sister a little tighter. "Big brother will handle it."
He took Ye Caiwei back to the inner room, let her lie down, and tucked the quilt around her.
"Go to sleep. Once you wake up, everything will be fine."
Ye Caiwei gazed at her brother, trust filling her reddened eyes. She nodded, closed her eyes, and left tears clinging to her long lashes.
Only after his sister's breathing gradually steadied did Ye Qingxuan quietly leave, gently pulling the door shut behind him.
In the outer room, the oil lamp cast his shadow onto the wall.
He walked back to the table and stared at the palm print for a long time.
Humiliation was like a dull knife, sawing back and forth at his heart. It was not the exhilarating pain of a sharp blade drawing blood, but a torment that wore a person down, burrowing into the marrow.
He slowly extended the thumb that had pressed the red seal and placed it at the center of the palm print. It was neither too large nor too small, fitting perfectly.
He closed his eyes. Duan Tianbao's genial smile and Hu Jiudao's contemptuous gaze surfaced in his mind once more.
"Monthly payment." His lips moved slightly as he uttered the two words.
"At most, one month."
"Then I'll make this Fierce Tiger Hall break its own rules for me!"
He did not roar out this oath. It merely transformed into a blazing fire within his chest.
For dinner, there was a pot of thick porridge on the table, along with two white-flour steamed buns.
Ye Qingxuan's appetite was astonishing. Bowl after bowl, he ate until the porridge in the pot had reached the bottom in moments. He picked up a steamed bun and swallowed it in two or three bites.
Ye Caiwei sat opposite him, cradling her small bowl and sipping her porridge in tiny mouthfuls, yet her large eyes remained fixed on her brother.
"Big brother, you... you can eat that much?"
More than half the porridge remained in her little bowl. Yet her brother alone had eaten the amount the two siblings normally consumed in two or three days.
"Practicing martial arts takes strength, so naturally I have to eat more." Ye Qingxuan swallowed the last bite of steamed bun, and only then did the hunger in his belly ease slightly.
Ever since achieving minor mastery of the Indestructible Vajra Body, he had discovered that he was like a bottomless pit that could never be filled. The more vigorously his qi and blood circulated, the greater his need for food. His sinews and bones were like a roaring furnace, requiring constant additions of firewood and coal.
That was no small expense, either.
"Then... then how many more days will our rice last?" Ye Caiwei set down her bowl, another trace of worry rising on her small face.
"It'll last." Ye Qingxuan ruffled her hair. "When we finish it, big brother will buy more. Don't worry. I won't let our Nannan go hungry."
After settling his sister, Ye Qingxuan barred the courtyard gate and carefully checked it once more.
He removed his shirt, went to the corner of the courtyard, and untied the burlap sack filled with fine sand.
The grains shimmered faintly beneath the moonlight. He drew a deep breath, grabbed a handful of fine sand, and spread it over his left arm.
Then he extended his right hand and, following the cultivation method of the Indestructible Vajra Body, began to slowly rub.
"Hiss—"
The instant the fine sand touched his skin and flesh, a sharp pain erupted, a hundred times more violent than the cloth bundle's. It spread throughout his body in an instant.
It was not pain concentrated in one area, but pain in tens of millions of points, like countless red-hot steel needles stabbing simultaneously into his flesh.
Ye Qingxuan grunted, his teeth clenched tight.
His hand did not stop. Instead, he pressed even harder.
The grains rolled and scraped beneath his palm, making a rustling sound. At that moment, the noise sounded like torture itself.
Before long, the skin on his left arm was rubbed raw, oozing fine beads of blood. Blood mixed with yellow sand and congealed into a dark-red paste clinging to his arm. Every rub brought a fresh round of tearing pain.
Pain.
Pain that pierced the heart and bones.
The palm print on the table surfaced in his mind once more.
That palm print was the rule Duan Tianbao had carved down, the law of this turbid, filthy world.
The weak could only submit to these rules and let others slaughter them as they pleased.
If he wanted to break the rules, he had to become stronger than the one who made them!
He increased the force of his hand by another three points!
He could no longer remember how long he had rubbed. He only knew that his arm had long since gone numb. The pain seemed to have drifted far away, leaving behind only a mechanical, repetitive motion.
When he completed one full cycle of the cultivation method, his entire body was drenched in sweat. His left arm was swollen and red, a terrible sight.
Just as he released his exhausted hand, the scroll in his mind suddenly unfurled with a boom.
A point of light flowed into it.
[Merit: +1]
Ye Qingxuan's movements stopped.
Breathing heavily, he focused and looked inward at the scroll.
[Name: Ye Qingxuan] [Realm: Body Tempering First Layer Perfection] [Martial Art: Indestructible Vajra Body (Realm: Minor Mastery, Measure: Two Inches, Merit: 3/45)]
Only one point of Merit.
It was not the two points he had expected.
Supporting himself on his knees, he stood and walked to the water vat. He ladled up a dipper of cold water and poured it over his head. The icy well water made him shudder, clearing his mind somewhat.
Why had this happened?
He lowered his head and examined his mangled, bloody arm.
Could it be... that the method was wrong?
He recalled the general outline of the technique. After cloth training came sand grinding. The method was correct.
Perhaps his body had yet to adapt after switching methods. Or perhaps the sand-grinding method was inherently harder to make effective than the cloth bundle method.
"Every inch of effort bears fruit; after hardship comes sweetness."
He remembered the true essence of the Heavenly Machine Codex.
Since he had gained Merit, it proved that this path was correct.
One point, then one point it was.
As long as this path could be walked, what did it matter if it was slower?
In this turbid, filthy world, the one thing it never lacked was patience.
He washed the blood and sand from his arm. Under the rinsing of clean water, the flesh began to heal rapidly, and the swelling receded considerably. After achieving minor mastery of the Indestructible Vajra Body, the resilience and recovery of his flesh were already far beyond that of ordinary people.
He did not practice any further.
The path of cultivation required alternating tension and relaxation. He had already reached his limit today. Continuing would only damage his foundation and accomplish nothing.
He returned indoors, changed into clean clothes, and lay on the wooden bed, yet sleep did not come.
He stared at the dark ceiling with his eyes open.
Moonlight seeped through the gaps in the window lattice, casting several pale patches of light onto the floor.
One month.
That deadline was the military order he had issued himself.
Fierce Tiger Hall. Duan Tianbao.
He chewed over those two names repeatedly in his heart until every single character was branded into the gaps between his bones.
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