Chapter 11

His Internal Energy surged vast and mighty. Though three years of cultivation had only turned it into a small river, with two acupoints in the Ren Meridian still unopened, not even forming a complete Lesser Heavenly Cycle, the moment he practiced the Golden Bell Shield, that river-like Internal Energy actually transformed into the great Yangtze River, roaring as it struck one of the Twelve Primary Meridians. The momentum was incredibly fierce, but its follow-through was severely lacking—after all, his Internal Energy had originally only been the volume of a small river. Turning it into raging waves in an instant was basically draining it all for a single burst.

Normally, such an assault would have struggled to open an acupoint due to its lack of sustained force—it was not enough merely to force an acupoint open. Internal Energy also had to flow through the opened acupoint and stabilize it before it could truly be considered unblocked. Sure enough, the first wave failed to open it. But Bai Lang did not stop moving, and his breathing remained steady. Before long, Internal Energy flowed back from the acupoints and meridians he had already opened, gathering from nothing into another wave that began a fresh assault.

The impact was actually quite painful. The key was that this was not pain one could overcome by rubbing the sore spot; it felt as though his meridians were breaking inch by inch, yet he could only endure it. Bai Lang gritted his teeth and bore it, while forcibly reining in his mind and making himself focus on coordinating his movements with his breathing rather than the sensation of the acupoints being struck. The second wave also failed, but it hurt even more—and as his movements continued, the third wave had already formed.

The third wave succeeded. It blasted through the acupoint, opening the first acupoint of this Primary Meridian. Yet Bai Lang could not stop—because the Secret Manual said he had to complete the entire set of movements. So he continued through the pain. This time, the target was the final two acupoints of the Ren Meridian. Again, there were three waves of impact. The searing pain nearly distorted Bai Lang's movements, but the acupoints still would not open. Fortunately, he had completed the set.

Bai Lang concluded his practice and breathed slowly to calm the turmoil in his Internal Energy, controlling it bit by bit and guiding it back into the sea of Qi in his Dantian. By then, the sky was fully bright, and it was time to head back—grab breakfast, too. He still had to continue cultivating at noon and dusk, though those sessions were not as important as the morning one. Of the twenty-four hours in a day, Bai Lang spent half his time cultivating—movement and stillness alike consumed that much time.

With the rest of his time, he could browse online for information, wander around to relax, or even think of nothing at all and simply enjoy the daze of modern life—even spacing out was far better than being a thug for a broker's office in the world he had transmigrated from. No wonder they need those so-called Qi Strengthening Pills. Even with the level of Internal Energy I've already cultivated, it's like this. Wouldn't someone with no Internal Energy at all just be practicing for nothing? Bai Lang thought as he flipped through the Secret Manual.

As for the medicinal broth used for external training, it now seemed relatively unimportant—because Bai Lang had certainly used better medicinal ointment than that. The small jar of ointment distributed each month as a gang benefit was probably more effective than the medicinal broth recorded in this Secret Manual. Moreover, after three uninterrupted years of training, the ointment's effects had long since seeped into his bones and marrow, while his vitality and blood had been developed sufficiently. Thus, merely cultivating the first level of the Golden Bell Shield would not damage his body.

Looking at it this way, even the Qi Strengthening Pill was probably unnecessary. Bai Lang could cultivate perfectly well at his current level—the important thing was that the Golden Bell Shield really could open acupoints. It did not seem fake. Still, he had to be careful of cultivation deviation. But with Bai Lang's beginner-level Internal Energy cultivation and small-river quantity of Internal Energy, he probably was not even qualified to suffer cultivation deviation yet. There was another advantage to not needing those prescriptions: to Bai Lang, they seemed more like barriers to entry. Using expensive, even impossible-to-obtain medicines to stop practitioners—you fail to cultivate because you can't afford the medicine. Isn't that the usual trick of martial arts swindlers?

As far as Bai Lang knew, a hundred-year-old wild ginseng would probably have turned woody, with barely any medicinal potency left. Its price, however, would be outrageously high. As for tiger bones? Forget it. Better see whether cow bones could substitute for them. In Bai Lang's view, eating more meat was best for cultivating this technique.

It seemed the case truly had not implicated him. Logically, an assault like that should have meant at least three years in prison, but if they could not find Bai Lang, it could only become an unsolved case. Bai Lang spent the second day, the third day, and even the following months in much the same way, living a simple routine, causing no further trouble, and cultivating quietly. His progress was naturally quite decent.

He had opened one of the Twelve Primary Meridians, and only one final acupoint remained in the Ren Meridian. Once he opened it, his Lesser Heavenly Cycle would be complete—from then on, his Internal Energy would circulate without interruption, and his martial skill could be said to have advanced greatly. Only at that point could he call himself a member of the martial world. A martial practitioner who had not opened the Lesser Heavenly Cycle could only be called a thug. Bai Lang was therefore even more spirited, cultivated with increasing diligence, and had begun to grow accustomed to the agonizing pain in his meridians.

That day, he once again drew in a mouthful of Purple Qi at sunrise before beginning to cultivate the Thirteen Great Protectors' Adamantine Bell Shield. He endured the unbearable pain of his meridians being forcibly widened as the massive wave of gathered Internal Energy began striking the final acupoint in his Ren Meridian. Thanks to several months of relentless training, his Internal Energy had grown considerably. The Golden Bell Shield's method of cultivation from the outside inward had likewise strengthened his external martial arts, drawing a breath of true Qi from his muscles, bones, skin, and flesh to strengthen his Internal Energy—just like the Thirty-two Forms Long Fist he had first cultivated.

Thus, the massive wave formed from his Internal Energy now had two crests, one after the other. If the first wave failed to break through, it could add thirty percent of its force to the second, making it even stronger—and, naturally, even more painful. Bai Lang practiced the Golden Bell Shield's external fist and footwork methodically, while outside, a circle of idle men—or rather, martial arts enthusiasts—watched him train. Traditionally, that was somewhat taboo, but Bai Lang neither knew nor cared—if he practiced openly in the park, onlookers were inevitable. Otherwise, he could have simply practiced in his own courtyard, could he not?

He merely controlled the explosive force behind his punches, restraining his strength again and again so as not to draw more attention. It would be troublesome if some bored reporters came to interview him for a city feature—Bai Lang could not guarantee that the people he had beaten would not recognize him if he appeared on television. There were both old and young among the people surrounding him, seven or eight in all. Their numbers had gradually increased over the past few months, from one or two at first to these seven or eight now. It seemed they had not actively spread word of him.

Bai Lang ignored them for the moment. He had originally estimated that the day's massive wave would still fail, perhaps requiring a few more days. Yet unexpectedly, the first wave blasted open the final acupoint of his Ren Meridian. Internal Energy poured in, circulating once along the Ren Meridian. The intense agony instantly transformed into an indescribable, blissful comfort. His entire body felt light, as if he were about to fly, while every pore that had been sealed shut suddenly opened. Sweat streamed out in the blink of an eye, soaking his clothes. Steam rose from it, making him look like a freshly steamed bun.