Forbidden Medicine

In a corner of the training ground, a stomach-turning stench seeped through the wooden slats of the outhouse.

Chen Ping crouched in the cramped stall, utterly ignoring the filth around him, his eyes fixed on the pale blue light panel only he could see.

As he swung his palm through the air one last time in this secluded corner, the long-awaited line of text finally flickered.

Code
[Skill: Shattered Stone Palm (Perfected Realm 1/5000)]
[Effect: Splits rocks and cracks stone, penetrates force to damage organs, blends hardness with softness, unleashes and withdraws at will.]

A strange warmth enveloped his palms. The rough, thick calluses didn't disappear, but beneath the skin, his muscles and bones seemed to have been reforged through countless temperings.

Chen Ping tried clenching his fist lightly.

No knuckles popped. The grip felt smooth as flowing water.

This was the ultimate expression of power control.

"Perfected Realm..."

Chen Ping let out a long breath, the stone that had weighed on his heart easing slightly.

With this trump card, even against the Jin Family's endless underhanded tricks, he now had some leverage to flip the table.

Straightening his clothes, Chen Ping pushed open the outhouse's broken wooden door, slipped back into his cowering expression, and hugged the wall as he returned to the examinees' rest area.

The moment he sat down, a burly figure shuffled over.

Tie Niu's injured leg was still wrapped in thick white bandages, making him limp, but a simple, foolish grin hung on his face.

"Brother Ping, I just heard—that Young Master Jin is a real tough one."

Tie Niu glanced around, and when no one was watching, pulled a hot object from his chest and quickly shoved it into Chen Ping's hand.

It was a freshly boiled egg, its shell covered in fine cracks.

"My mom boiled it for me this morning. I couldn't bring myself to eat it. You're going up on stage soon—eat it, get some strength."

Chen Ping held the egg. The searing heat in his palm burned straight into his heart.

In a world where even coarse rice had to be rationed, an egg was the greatest sincerity a poor family could offer.

He didn't refuse. He lowered his head, peeled the shell, and swallowed it in two or three bites, choking until his eyes rolled back, but it felt like the best thing he'd ever eaten.

"Don't worry."

Chen Ping patted Tie Niu's rough hand, his voice low but carrying a cold edge.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the training ground, inside the Jin Family's awning.

The atmosphere was thick enough to drip.

Jin Zhenshan sat upright in a grand armchair, his gaze dark and predatory as he stared at his son.

"Shijie, that dirt-poor brat is a bit off. Even Ghost Hand Seven fell to him. This match—only victory, no defeat."

Jin Shijie's face darkened as he nodded.

A servant stepped forward with a brocade box, opening it to reveal a blood-red pill that gave off a pungent, cloying sweetness.

Bloodburst Pill.

A savage drug that drained vitality for a burst of explosive power.

Jin Shijie hesitated, but seeing his father's unyielding glare, he gritted his teeth, grabbed the pill, and swallowed it.

In just three breaths.

The veins on his neck bulged, writhing like earthworms. His once-clear eyes quickly filled with blood, turning a fierce red.

A violent aura erupted from within him.

"Clang—!"

The gong rang out, shaking the entire grounds.

"Quarterfinal match: Group D, Number Two, Chen Ping, versus Group A, Number One, Jin Shijie!"

As the announcement fell, the whole training ground erupted.

One was a poor nobody who'd scraped by on luck and dirty tricks; the other was a famed prodigy from Jinguang City's elite family.

To everyone, this was a slaughter with no suspense.

"Young Master Jin! Cripple that loophole-exploiting trash!"

"Show him what real martial arts mean!"

Amid the jeers and cheers, Chen Ping hugged his chipped Steel Saber, shrinking his neck as he walked toward the arena.

At the steps, an examiner in charge of weapon inspection stopped him.

Using the pretext of a pat-down, the examiner leaned close to Chen Ping's ear, his voice faint as a mosquito's but dripping with bone-chilling cold:

"If you want to live, forfeit the moment you step on stage. The Jin Family might still let you keep a whole corpse."

Chen Ping's body trembled, as if scared out of his wits.

"Yes... yes... this one understands, this one understands..."

He stammered a reply, his knees buckling as if he might drop to the ground at any moment.

The examiner snorted contemptuously and stepped aside to let him pass.

Chen Ping kept his head down as he climbed onto the arena, but his fingers, hidden in his sleeve, lightly brushed the hilt of his saber.

Do I understand?

Of course I do.

You want my life, and I'm no less eager to send you to your grave.

Across from him, Jin Shijie had already drawn his saber.

It was a gleaming blade under the sunlight, its body not the usual silver-white of common steel, but shimmering with an eerie blood-red sheen—clearly a weapon forged with refined iron.

Jin Shijie wasted no words, not even bothering with the customary fist-and-palm salute before a fight.

The drug rampaged through his veins, leaving him with nothing but a thirst for slaughter.

"Die!"

With a savage roar, the blue stone slab beneath Jin Shijie's feet cracked apart.

Fast.

Shockingly fast.

Chen Ping only saw a flash of blood-red light before the long saber was at his face.

Even with the heightened senses granted by Longevity of Pine and Crane, this drug-fueled strike was so swift it made his heart pound.

Chen Ping instinctively jerked his head back.

"Shiiing—"

A strand of black hair drifted past his eyes.

The razor-sharp saber aura grazed his cheek, leaving a stinging, bloody gash.

Had he been half a beat slower, it wouldn't have been just hair—half his skull would have been lopped off.

The crowd below erupted in gasps, already envisioning a spray of blood.

Chen Ping's feet slipped like he'd greased them, his body sliding away like a loach.

Light Body Movement Technique, pushed to the limit!

He no longer bothered to fake clumsy rolls; instead, he drove his movement art to its peak.

Like a startled rabbit, he darted wildly across the arena's confined space, leaving a trail of afterimages.

Jin Shijie slashed eighteen times in a row—every stroke lethal, every stroke missing.

Each blow came within a hair's breadth, either catching Chen Ping's sleeve or cleaving through his afterimage.

"This kid... is he part rabbit? Running that fast!"

"What impressive footwork! Is this really the same Chen Ping who only knew dirty brawling?"

The crowd's tone shifted slightly, mockery tinged with surprise.

The red in Jin Shijie's eyes deepened, twin plumes of white vapor blasting from his nostrils. The drug had peaked, and reason was being devoured by madness.

Failing to land a hit for so long had shredded his patience.

"Run? Where do you think you're running?"

Jin Shijie roared, his blood and qi roaring like liquid mercury.

He gripped his saber with both hands, raising it high. The blade's blood-light surged three feet, and the very air around seemed to be drained by the strike.

The Jin Family's ultimate technique, Golden Crow Saber Technique's killing move—Golden Crow Plummets to Earth!

The aura of this strike locked onto every escape route Chen Ping had.

The arena was wide, but there was nowhere to flee.

Chen Ping stopped.

He stood with his back to the sun, shadows covering most of his face.

Watching the fatal blow descending upon him, the panic in Chen Ping's eyes vanished in an instant.

In its place was a chilling ferocity.

If I can't dodge it.

Then I won't.

Chen Ping's right hand released the battered steel saber he'd been using as a prop. His five fingers clenched, and his once sallow skin took on a dark, metallic sheen.

Shattered Stone Palm at its peak.

Today, I'll use your blood, you scion of a noble house, to consecrate these iron palms!